#whether or not that's rational i'm not sure

[apocalypticdemon]

for all i bang on about consumerism being bad i sure do like to purchase books, huh.

[mewtwo24]

You know idk if it's just me being oblivious af but mxtx sure does enjoy putting her protags through the trolley problem when it comes to her works huh /j

[trans-cuchulainn]

a tip for fellow nervous trans people is that the pre-christmas period is a really good time to buy that clothing/underwear you've been afraid to buy in case anyone gave you weird looks, because everyone will just assume it's a gift so you can spend all the time you like browsing the boxers or whatever to find the ones that have the nicest fabric and nobody will be like "why are you in the men's underwear section"

[diamondcitydarlin]

Just fair warning- I said on my personal post about this that I wasn't going to talk about Neil Gaiman anymore, but as it's becoming clear that him and his publishers and anyone else who makes money off of him is circling the wagons and trying to bury these allegations, as well as some fans still defending and trying to 'rationalize' this information, I feel like, actually, we need to keep talking about him (as much as I cannot stand him and feel physically disgusted now when I so much as see his face somewhere). Specifically, the fact that he's a liar, master manipulator and should not, under any circumstances, be given access to his fans like he has in the past. At the very least. (And if you need to blacklist his name or even unfollow me so as to not be triggered, I completely understand, but I will always try to tag these posts accordingly and I think it's crucial right now that the truth be put where people can see)

This post specifically is in response to those 'rationalizations' I've seen, some that have gone as far as to blame the young fans/groupies that hooked up with him for being 'golddiggers' or just making a mountain out of a molehill for something they now regret. It's not that simple, yall. (And, again, this requires some amount of completely ignoring the story about him extorting his tenant for sex under threat of eviction of her and her three young children, I'm not sure how you 'rationalize' that under the best of circumstances)

So let's be clear here. What we know is that NG has routinely, for possibly an upwards of 30 years, pulled sexual 'partners' from his fan groups, most of whom are 18-22 year old young women (though possibly younger, accounts are coming forward of 16 year olds having allegedly been inappropriately touched/flirted/propositioned by him, which ig is the age of consent in the UK but still?? 16 year olds!!). This wasn't one or two times in the course of three decades, this was a constant pattern of behavior for him and for a very insidious reason.

This isn't to try to infantilize those fans or young women/young people in general or try to suggest that they couldn't have consented to sex with an older person or famous person. In fact, the onus isn't on them at all. This is about an older guy with a lot of fame, power and wealth choosing to sleep with people that he had already conditioned to idolize him and using that power imbalance to coerce them into doing things they didn't want to.

Regardless of one's age or gender identity, it can be difficult to impossible to say 'no' to someone like that. After all, you've been 'chosen' by the chosen one, you're special and not like everyone else, and if you don't do what the popular person everyone trusts is telling you to do you could end up ostracized. Alienated. Or worse. And you know what? Gaiman knew that! He knew it when he was crafting his 'approachable dad' persona on tumblr. He knew it when he was cultivating a fandom of personality. He knew it when he was having huge meetups to try to ensnare more victims. I hate to even think it, but I'm starting to believe he knew it when he was writing children's books too.

It's been talked about again and again in separate issues, but needless to say something not being strictly illegal does not make it inherently, morally okay. It does not erase the fact that this man has been essentially grooming his fandom to feel safe meeting/speaking with him so he can coerce those he can snare into sexual acts they're not comfortable with. That is predator behavior, whether strictly 'illegal' in the eyes of a court or not (but ofc I think he should be criminally punished even if I'm not naive enough to think he actually will be, because this IS rape and rape should be criminally punished)

I'm not personally advocating for anyone to give up being in his related fandoms, but what I am personally advocating for is that people don't forget who he is and what he's capable of, especially when he tries to crawl back to where he was (I'm almost certain he will eventually, as I've said).

Again, at the very least, we need to use what little influence we do have to keep him from infiltrating fan spaces again. He should not be on tumblr yukking it up with young people, he should not be at public appearances hitting on teenagers, he should not be given the unrestricted access to fans that he's 'enjoyed' for the past 30+ years because he is not a safe person. While I wish there was more in the way of restorative justice that could be done, I think at very, very least we should do what we can to limit his proximity to people he could hurt in the future. Make sure no one forgets, because sweeping this under the rug means Gaiman gets to hurt more people.

Lastly, no one is the wrong for having been manipulated by him. Let's make that very clear. What we're NOT gonna do is blame ourselves, each other, the victims, etc, for evil acts that Gaiman chose to do himself, time and time and time again. It doesn't help the situation and it certainly doesn't protect future potential victims. We were all duped because we're human and we attach and a lot of us want to believe there are good people out there, particularly those who make art that means so much to us.

And there are. But let's also use this a teaching/learning tool about how much faith we place in famous people in the future, regardless of how 'approachable' and 'safe' they might seem. Let's remember to have a healthy suspicion of creators/famous people that are oddly immersed in fandom spaces- yes, even the ones you still currently like that seem fine, as difficult as that may seem.

At the end of the day, we don't know them or what they're capable of doing or what they might be plotting to do to us. Support victims. Amplify their voices. Don't forget.

[hareofhrair]

I wanted to put this one the previous post but it was long and this is a tangent but- In regards to the hypothetical "If House was my doctor I'd just tell him everything. Rip to all his other patients but I'm different."

The whole point of the show is that you wouldn't. Like a major theme of the show is about how the various shames and stigmas and habitual dishonesties that plague our societies both metaphorically and literally kill us. "Everybody lies" isn't just a cynical catchphrase, it's the shows thesis. Because of how we operate as a society, everyone feels compelled to suppress and hide things and that inevitably leads to suffering.

And there are plenty of episodes where this is obvious, ie "I cheated on my partner and gave them an STD." But there's also much more of "This little girl went through early puberty and because of the way our society stigmatizes women's bodies her single father never discussed puberty with her and she was so afraid and ashamed of her new pubic hair that she tried to shave it without telling anyone and mutilated herself, leading everyone to think she'd been abused and throwing off the whole case until House figured out her hormones were going crazy because she'd been exposed to her father's low T medicine, which he hid because of how our society regards masculinity, which he started taking because he began dating a younger woman (because of shame stemming from our society's unrealistic expectations wrt sex in relationships) which he was hiding from his kids, because of shame regarding our societies toxic views on monogamy."

A particular episode stands out as a really good example. S06E15 "Private Lives," which aired in 2010 but was fairly prescient about where social media was heading. The patient was a blogger who documented literally every moment of every day for her followers. She made it very clear she left *nothing* out, from her and her boyfriend's sex life to, eventually, asking for feedback from her followers on whether to get her heart valve replaced with one from a pig or a "vegan" plastic one. She handed the whole blog over to House as soon as he took the case and the team poured through the whole thing. Surely this is proof you're wrong about everybody lying, the team says to House. She's give us her whole life and you still can't find out what's wrong! Spoiler, it turned out the crucial symptom that allowed House to put it all together? Was the one thing she *didn't* include in the blog- Her bowel movements. Shame and stigma around talking about *poop* nearly killed this woman. It was also a detail that should have been picked up immediately by a normal doctor, who would have asked about her bowel movements as part of the standard checklist of diagnostic questions. But this woman was so confident that she'd laid out every relevant detail of her life in her blog, she wouldn't answer those questions, obfuscating what she was actually ashamed of underneath a pile of curated, rationalized, narritivized junk she could pretend was proof of a lack of shame and not simply a skill at creative writing.

When I say "I'd just tell House everything" is ridiculous, I don't just mean "well, because of the way the show works, you HAVE to be hiding SOMETHING." I mean literally, you- because you are a human being- are ashamed of *something.* And because you are a human being, the more info you try to give House the more deeply you will bury whatever it is you're actually ashamed of. And, because of the way the show works, that *will* end up being the key to what's making you sick.

[idiotmf]

omg please write a piece about reader getting fucked by a ghost i neeeeed it

Hey, anon! Fear not, I shall deliver. I wasn't sure whether you wanted afab or amab, so I went with the usual afab. I'm happy to rewrite it into amab, if anyone wants it!（＾ω＾）

Edit: Here is the amab version!

Feel free to send me asks and requests or little imagines, I'm always happy to expand upon it, it gets the creative juices flowing a little. ^-^

NSFW, Minors DNI, I can see you.

TW: dub-con

Anyway, enough talk. Here's Reader getting not-so-respectfully railed by a ghost:

When your grandma left you a house after she passed, you assumed your troubles would finally be over, and for a while, they were. When you moved in, things were amazing. You didn't have to worry about rent anymore, and the utilities were surprisingly cheap. It's like you hit the jackpot, finally able to live with a few less worries.

Obviously, when you weren't working or hanging out with the odd friend that came over, you spent your time at home, keeping yourself occupied, mostly by either watching something, playing something, or masturbating out of boredom.

Things continued like that for a while, until you found a rather cryptic note from your late grandma that explained in unnecessary detail how there was a ghost living in the house. She strictly referred to the ghost as "him" and mentioned he was fairly friendly, unless provoked, and even then he would only play pranks on you.

Being the rational person that you are, you chalked it up to grandma being senile and that she was just keeping herself entertained since she lived in the house all alone. It would have been fine if that's where it stopped.

One night, your old friend came over, and you did your usual routine of watching something, and then halfway through, you ended up fucking. That's where it really all began.

The next morning, things were on the ground, not like someone had ransacked the place, but it was noticeable enough, though of course you thought it must've been just your old friend who had knocked some stuff over while leaving in a hurry. When you went to bend over to pick some things up, you could feel something grabbing your ass, and without hesitation, you turned around, only to be faced with nothing. Maybe you were going crazy, you thought; it wasn't an awfully strong grip, so maybe it was something your body did.

This excuse became increasingly less effective as time went on. You felt hands everywhere and at the worst times. Caressing your arms and legs, tracing your stomach and back. Eventually it got to the point where you could feel a hand slipping into your pants, playing with your clit. Of course, you were scared at first. Something was clearly there, and it reminded you of the letter your grandma left you.

You began shouting at the ghost. Telling it to stop fucking around and leave you alone. However, the ghost didn't really care; you broke his one rule that he had agreed on with your grandma, and even if you didn't know, he was going to punish you. How dare you bring another man into his house and have the audacity to fuck him?

His touching escalated the more you allowed him. Eventually you noticed a mouth and a wet tongue licking your neck, tracing down to your breasts. It seemed strange, considering you were usually clothed when this happened, yet it felt like it was touching your skin directly. The licking felt nothing like what your old friend would do, although in truth the sex with him wasn't all that good and really just a way to get fucked every once in a while.

Before you knew it, multiple hands were all over you, joined by at least three tongues licking you. This made no sense; you wondered if there were multiple ghosts. It became increasingly difficult to even find the logic in this when you were constantly being groped and licked. One tongue had found its permanent place on your sensitive nub, flicking and sucking it with every move you made; one was carelessly sucking on one of your nipples, alternating with one hand that usually played with the other one. The third mouth seemed to like making out with you, its tongue constantly shoved in your mouth, wrestling yours.

Despite feeling all these ministrations as if they were real, when you looked at your reflection, there was nothing there. Your mouth was gaping, but nothing was in it; your panties were soaked beyond belief most of the time, yet nothing seemed to be there. But truly, the worst part about it all was that it wouldn't let you finish. Whenever you were just about to cum, the mouth disappeared before continuing its torture. It took about two days before you couldn't take it anymore, pleading with the ghost to let you cum. It didn't listen, though it did use more hands to restrict you when you went to touch yourself before shoving something inside of you.

It wasn't much of a sensation, and you felt it curl, so you naturally assumed it was the finger of another hand. “Please,” you began whimpering every other minute, your tone getting more needy with every ruined orgasm that he put you through as minutes began to feel like hours.

“I'll do anything,” you finally managed to choke out through tears as he played with your sodden pussy for what you could only register as an eternity again, bent over the kitchen counter, legs held apart, wrists gripped tightly by the ghost. For a moment, there was nothing but stillness; all the mouths stopped what they were doing, and most of the hands disappeared too, except the ones keeping you in place.

“Anything?” A shiver ran down your spine as you heard the noise that you assumed to be the ghost's voice. It sounded distant and more like the wind howling than a human voice, yet you knew immediately who it was. You nodded, the tears running down your face falling onto the kitchen counter, your twitching cunt trying to feel any sort of stimulation now that the mouths and hands were gone.

“Yes, anything.” The words came out before you could even attempt to stop them, accompanied by a howling sound, which made you wonder whether it was meant to be a laugh or not.

Another few moments passed before a loud noise forced itself out of your mouth at the sensation of something stretching you open. It was long and thick, covered in strange bumps, providing nothing but the most torturous pleasure as it thrust into your hungry cunt at a punishing pace.

Despite your mind still questioning whether this was okay and logical, your body was writhing against the kitchen counter, hands still held still by him, your legs forced apart as he fucked you from behind. No matter how much you attempted to stop it from happening, desperate, high-pitched mewling sounds escaped your lips at a rapid rate as you felt another orgasm approach, hoping this would be the one to finally let you cum after two days of torture.

“What a willing little slut,” the ghost taunted with his howling voice, making him sound distant yet all around you at once. The insults made you mewl louder; something about being used like this by a ghost made your pussy clench harder.

In a small moment of defiance, you glanced back at what might be behind you, but just as expected, there was nothing. Despite your pussy being stretched to an almost painful level, gaping around air, no figure was there to account for it.

Just as your orgasm threatened to spill over, something was shoved into your mouth, making your jaw hurt, before it found its way down your throat, drowning out your mewls and desperate groans.

“Be quiet, whore. I'm not done with you yet.” With those words, your eyes fluttered closed as you let this torture continue for another minute or two, pussy and throat both stuffed full with invisible cocks, bigger than any human's you've ever had. The thought alone was enough to trigger your orgasm, finally sending you over that sweet edge with a loud groan that only came out as a hum. Your body went limp from the impact, and you saw stars in front of your eyes, the ghost holding you up by your wrists as if it were nothing.

Without a word or even a moment to spare, he kept slamming into you, the bumps rubbing against your insides, making you feel like you were stuck in a never-ending orgasm for a moment before it did finally subside, though you could feel the cocks twitch, their movements becoming more erratic and aggressive. You tried to say something, but your throat was simply too stuffed to make any worthwhile noise.

Suddenly, you felt a hot sensation in both of your holes, almost making you gag and cry in pain, as the sheer amount of ectoplasmic seed forced its way into your womb and down your throat, spilling back into your mouth, even running down your chin. Before you could fully register what happened, you were dropped, the ghost probably leaving you to deal with the aftermath. As you lay there, the sheer amount of cum almost formed a small puddle on the ground, your fucked-out pussy leaking more as you desperately tried to swallow the remnants in your mouth.

[wizard-email]

I don't want to add god's longest addition to the would you survive an apocalypse?' poll, but I do actually have an absolutely fallproof plan for the zombie apocalypse. It doesn’t matter what kind of zombies there are & it has exactly (2) steps:

1. Drive to the nearest National Trust proparty

2. win

This is the result of a very lengthy (and completely serious) discussion with my sister so let me break it down for you.

Benefit 1: EVERYTHING'S THERE

For those of you who don't live in the UK (or don't have parents with exactly 1 idea for a family trip ever), all National Trust proparties are broadly speaking exactly the same.

There's a big rich person's house & the courtyard is always converted into a little picnic area containing a combination gift shop/booking desk; a cafe and a secondhand bookshop. The gift shop has like a 60% chances to contain basic gardening tools and a little section for seeds & bulbs.

I won't list their standardised cafe menu (that I do in fact have memorised), but it's pretty good & more importantly most of it is made or at least finished on site. If they rationed, a small group could live off National Trust cornish pasties, scones & gift shop fudge for a month or two I think <3

Here's a list of things that are might be there but aren't 100% guaranteed:

- Kitchen garden

- Fish pond

- Livestock (usually chickens, sometimes pigs or bees)

- Medieval armour (fuck ya'll with guns but I would take a pike over having to worry about ammunition any day)

- Horses and functioning stable

- Forests cultivated for the purpose of deer hunting

John McRichman's gun/archery collection

- Lake

Benefit 2: FUCKING!! CASTLE!!

??? Where do I start???

1. These things are so easy to defend it's laughable.

I'm sure we all know about spiral staircases being designed to maximise cover for a right handed person during sieges but it's more than that ??? 18th century rich people loved to make their estates look as big, impressive & isolated as possible & they did this by surrounded their houses on all sides with several hundred metres of flat, open grass with thick trees on the edges to block out the horizon.

- Nothing can see you

- No loud noises will be within earshot of anything close to civilisation

- Any zombies that DO somehow show up can be picked off at a distance whether they know how to run or not

- Litterally there are so many little towers & secret rooms & shit how do you even manage to fuck up enough to die here like I would actually be impressed

- ALSO the edge of the estate is usually also walled off and/or fenced & gated, so there's no chance of anything wandering in by accident

2. All the older infrastructure is designed pre-electricity so you'll still be able to have a shower when the power grid inevitably explodes or something

3. You get to sleep in one of those huge 4-poster beds with all the fun embroidery and silk pillows

4. Idk the massive lawn can be converted into a farm if the apocalypse goes on long enough

Genuinely I think my quality of life would actually improve?? and that's just with what's already there - if there was time to pick up some supplies beforehand me & my buddies would just be hanging out. literally what apocalypse im eating scones xoxo

[the-travelling-witch]

𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝: 𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍

Character Choice: Leviathan x Fem! Reader

Stats: nsfw/ minors dni, jealous/ possessive! levi, cream pies, monster/tail fucking, mean dom! levi, levi with two cocks, degradation/ name calling, marking, double penetration, unprotected sex (stay safe everyone!), hint of/ alllusion to exhibitionism towards the end

Profile: It’s not fair! Why do his stupid brothers get to hog your attention all the time? He’ll make sure you’ll pay attention to him and only him. You’re not leaving his room for quite a while; there’s lots of fun stuff Levi wants to try with you. And when you do limp out of his room, his brothers will certainly get the message.

this is a repost because i'm moving my nsfw works onto this blog!!

obey me masterlist || sfw version

You had been playing video games with Levi for a while now, comfortably sitting in his lap with his chin resting on your head. And so far, everything had been super relaxed. That was until the credits rolled and Levi’s focus started to drift from the screen to you, inhaling the comforting scent of your hair products.

Just for the stench of his brothers to fill his nostrils, clinging to you just as stubbornly as the actual demons. It made him livid, imagining Asmo hanging off your arm, Satan holding you close as he read to you or Belphie using your lap as his personal napping spot. You should be spending time with him! 

Before he knew it, pure jealousy was coursing through his veins and his form shifted. Coral-like horns perched on his head like a crown as a scaled tail wrapped around your ankle, slowly winding upwards. His hands, which had held the controller up until now, gripped your hips tightly as he tried to control his breathing.

You’d felt Levi’s envy often enough through the pact linking you two together. Whether it was losing the bid on a figurine he wanted or seeing someone else with the character he tried to get, the feeling wasn’t new to you. But this time, the sensation was overwhelming, his pact mark on your body searing with his jealousy. Normally, you could console him easily enough but right now you weren’t so sure. 

“Levi? Levi are you alright? What’s wrong?” you questioned, one hand coming up to thread into his purple locks as you tried to shift so you could face him. Only to be stopped by his iron grip. You could, however, get a glimpse of his orange-flashing eyes, pupils merely slits. “Levi, I’m worried-”

“Oh, now you care?” His tone was cold and sent shivers down your spine, rare determination falling from every word. “What’s wrong, you ask? Maybe it’s the fact that you’re always so busy cosying up to all my brothers. Even that scumbag gets more of your attention than I do.”

Levi knew deep inside that wasn’t true. You always spent plenty of time with him. Then, Lucifer’s cologne tickled his nose and he lost all sense of rationality, thoughts only fueled by his sin. When he spoke again, his words were like pure venom dripping from his fangs. “Did you have fun? Letting them get their grimey hands all over you?”

“No, Levi, I-” You interrupted yourself with a sudden gasp as sharp teeth sank into the column of your neck, not deep enough to draw blood but enough to leave a nasty, very visible mark. Still, you couldn’t help but grind yourself back on him, feeling his prominent bulge against your ass. You almost drooled at the inhuman size of him, mind wandering to how good he’d stretch you open on that.

“Enjoying yourself?” He hissed while pressing you down harder, rubbing himself against your clothed pussy. Searching for something to ground yourself with, you reached back and dug your fingers into his hair as you rolled your head back to give Levi more access to your neck. “Look at you, you’re actually getting off to this. You’re so easy, no wonder demons like you so much.”

Much to your embarrassment, you could feel the arousal staining your panties at his harsh words. There was no use denying it, this side of your usually timid Levi was heavily turning you on, so much so that you could feel yourself pulsing against the straining material of his sweats. Somehow, that realisation just made you squirm against him more, searching desperately for any sort of friction.

It came in the form of his tail flicking forcefully against your core, not enough to seriously hurt you but definitely hard enough to mix pain with pleasure. Levi took advantage of your moan to tip your head back and shove his forked tongue down your throat. At the same time, his clawed hands roughly groped your breasts over your RAD dress shirt, certainly leaving red marks for you to find later. Apparently that wasn’t enough for the demon though, carelessly ripping the material apart and making buttons roll over the floor of his room.

Your bra was next. Although he didn’t destroy it, he merely pulled it down enough to where your breasts could spill over the cups, further driving home the point that this wasn’t about you. This was only for him and his pleasure.

As his fingers meanly pulled at your nipples, tweaking the little buds and rolling them between his digits, his tail had stopped prodding at your slit and instead slithered under the waistband of your bottoms. With it pressed against your body like that, it really had no option but to rub over your clit as it reached for your undergarments.

Just when you thought Levi would really have you ruin your clothes, he pushed them off your legs to give his tail free reign to work. As the appendage curled around the seat of your panties to pull them off as well, it grazed your folds and you lightly jerked in your demon’s hold. 

Said demon had gone back to biting and licking at your neck, his eyes following the string of arousal sticking to your underwear with rapt attention. The fact that he could reduce you to this state so easily was definitely an ego boost but he was nowhere near satiated with just this.

“I think it’s time I remind you who you really belong to,” he snarled, voice bitter as he could still smell them on you. “Once I’m done with you, nobody will ever forget it again.”

Without so much as a warning, Levi plunged the end of his tail into your soaked core, earning something between a shriek and a moan from you. The initial clamp down of your walls around his scales drew a shaky groan from him in return, squeezing your tits harder in his palms.

His tail was curling and uncurling inside of you in unreadable patterns as he stretched you out gradually. The texture of his cold scales was something you never grew used to as they scraped against your warm walls, the tip effortlessly hitting spots you never knew you had.

In record time, Levi had you writhing and squirming in his lap and he chose to make it worse by slipping one hand down your front to ruthlessly tap your pulsing clit. The noises you made drove him nearly insane with lust but he willed himself to patience, as far as that was still possible.

“That’s it, you’re gonna cum,” he all but ordered, fingers and tail pressing down on the same spot on opposite sides of your walls. “And your orgasm is gonna be all mine, you got that?”

“Yes, Levi,” you whined, eyes screwed shut and fingers tightening around his wrist and his purple locks.

“Then do it,” he spoke directly against your ear. 

You straightened in his hold as lightning shot up your spine, the thicker part of his tail keeping your legs nicely spread while he flicked his fingers harsher against your clit. 

Then, your bones turned to pudding as you weightlessly leaned back against Levi’s clothed chest, feeling your release leak around his tail. You tried to control your breathing with little success. A hand swept sweat matted hair out of your eyes while a second one ran up and down your side to provide a familiar comfort.

But soon, your world shifted as you fell forward, your fall only cushioned by a hand on your chest before your cheek met one of Levi’s many pillows, which had previously not laid there. Behind you, the demon rose to his knees as well, his thighs colliding with your ass. 

You whined as the movements of his tail started again, much slower than before though. He shushed you almost gently, yet when you pushed yourself up on weak arms to look back at him, one hand firmly pressed your upper back onto the floor again.

“Be good and behave.” Levi’s cold voice made you shiver in the best way possible and this time he could feel the way you clamped down on him at his command. “Seriously, I thought between us I was the perv but seeing you let me use you like this without any resistance makes me question that.”

There was rustling of clothes to be heard and you almost protested the withdrawal of his tail but the pressure of his pre cum leaking cocks against you shut you right up. No matter how often you two got frisky, you wondered every time how they were supposed to fit.

As much as Levi wanted to see you choke on his cock while attempting to wrap your hand around the other, he was far too impatient. He needed to stretch you open now.

Aligning the head of his upper dick, he heaved a sigh before pushing in. Just feeling your heat around the tip made him lightheaded but before he could get carried away, he remembered why you two were in this position in the first place. 

In one single thrust, the demon filled you to the brim, knocking all air from your lungs as you were shoved into the pillow. Despite having two members to work with, taking just one was still quite the challenge. It hurt but at the same time it felt so good.

With his demeanour that night, you thought he’d set a ruthless pace from the start but he surprised you with tempered and measured thrusts, aiming for depth rather than speed. Your shoulders tensed up when you felt his tail return, this time however circling your other hole.

“Levi-“ 

“Don’t tell me you don’t want this, I can feel that messy cunt of yours gripping me even tighter.” And he was right. Just the imagination of Levi using his tail, which was still coated in your previous release, to prepare you for what was inevitably to come had you bounce your hips back on him. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. You’re supposed to be my master, yet you’re acting more like a bitch in heat, already going dumb on my cock.”

Apparently now it was time for your bra to leave the scene completely as Levi fumbled with the clasp for a second before carelessly throwing it somewhere into his room. 

The fact that he was still fully clothed whereas you were completely nude made you feel excitingly exposed, fire burning through your body at the thought of Levi just having your way with you like this.

It should have been embarrassing how your pussy squelched with his cock inside, how fast you were approaching another orgasm, but with Levi leaning more of his weight onto you as he seemed to reach deeper in both your cunt and ass, you were more concerned with trying to sustain your lungs with enough air.

Well, it wasn’t like you had to tell him you were close anyway. The way it got harder to move in and out or the way your legs started trembling gave you away. With his cocks hitting your g-spot and clit on every forward motion as your walls were sandwiched on both sides between him, it was clear you’d reach your peak sooner rather than later.

Your high pitched moans echoed around the room and Levi’s guttoral groans soon joined as he starved off his own release to fuck you through yours. At this point, your vision turned hazy but you couldn’t help but want more. And more you should get.

Through the fog of your mind, you barely registered the moment of emptiness and Levi’s biting words were drowned out by your own heartbeat pulsing in your ears. What you did notice was the sensation of two cocks stuffing you to your limit, both heads throbbing with a desperate need to just stuff you full of his cum.

The view of you on your elbows and knees, back arched and fingers a death grip on his pillow rushed directly to his head and to his dicks. He was the one who had reduced to such a pathetically fucked out state, unable to speak any coherent sentences. Not his brothers.

“Do you just whore yourself out to everyone?” Sharp claws were dancing up your spine, the layer of sweat reflecting the blue light of his room. The thought of his brothers getting just a glimpse of you like this made his earlier rage flare up again.

“N-No,” you whimpered meekly.

“No? Just the demons you know?” His still clothed chest met your back as his hands held your hips in an iron grip, no doubt leaving bruises in their wake. His fangs were grazing your skin again, searching for a new spot to leave his mark on. “If Mammon were here, would you let him fuck this messy cunt of yours, hm? Would you gag on Belphie’s cock like a slut, yeah? Let him push your head down as he pleases?”

You didn’t answer this time, not that he really expected you to. Normally, Levi might have intertwined your fingers or pressed a sweet kiss to your temple. But not on this day. 

“C’mon, you can be louder than that, slut.” Purple coloured nails tangled in your hair and pulled your head up. “Let everyone in this house who’s fucking you this good.”

Nothing he had to tell you twice. You felt so full, every sensitive spot you could think of and all those you didn’t know you had were being abused over and over again. 

What had you screaming and scrambling for purchase was the pain of his fangs piercing the skin of your shoulder as his tail wrapped around your middle, the tip resting dangerously close to your sensitive clit after dragging through the slick mess staining your thighs.

“You’re close again, right?” That was when his tail started circling your pulsing nub and your eyes flew open as the knot in your stomach started pulling you into opposite directions once more. “That’s right, you're just a little toy for me to use, aren’t you? Just an obedient cocksleeve waiting to get stuffed.”

To emphasise his point, your expression was reflected back to you on one of his shiny consoles, eyes fluttering open and shut as your tongue lolled out and drool dripped from your lips, head still pulled back.

“Fuck, you look so good like this,” Levi cursed out of breath, cocks twitching against your walls as the slapping of skin picked up in speed. Letting your head fall forward again, both hands gripped your hips tightly, nails nicking your skin.

“I’m so close, please I can’t—“ You couldn’t decide if you were begging to cum or to rest.

Your demon made the choice for you. He drew quicker circles on your abused clit, pressing his scales down harsher, which had your toes curling and your hips trying to wind away from the assault. 

“Stop squirming!” Pulling your hips back to meet his strokes, you weren’t sure if Levi was trying to make you cum again or if he was just selfishly chasing his own release with all means possible. “I’m gonna fill you up and you’ll be a good human and not waste a drop. Once we’re done, you’ll only smell like me!”

Mindlessly nodding your head, you fell over the edge with a scream of his name, shuddering and jerking as his pace didn’t slow at all. Maybe it was because you were so out of it but you could swear you could feel his cocks swell before his hips stuttered and he painted your walls white with a throaty groan.

There was no chance you could ever keep all of his cum inside, no matter how deep he shot it. You were pretty sure no human could ever cum this much. 

For a few minutes there was nothing but panting to be heard before he finally pulled out, the bite marks on your shoulders pulsing as the adrenaline wore off. Levi stared as his cum leaked out of you and ran down your trembling thighs, collecting the drops with the tip of his tail before pushing them back into you. You moaned weakly at the clench of your overstimulated walls around the appendage but just as you were wondering whether you could handle another round, the chime of your phones echoed through Levi’s room.

Satan @ House of Lamentation (New): Dinner in 5, get down here

Just as you were about to push yourself up on shaky arms, Levi’s hand on your upper back kept your chest on the floor.

“What are you doing? We don’t have time, we need to get cleaned up,” you protested.

Without a word, Levi wrangled your ankles into your panties again and slid them back up your thighs. Snapping the waistband, he gave your clothed cunt a final slap and innerly gloated at the way your combined release was soaking the already ruined fabric.

With widened eyes, you looked back over your shoulder to see if he was serious only to find him staring at you with a fierce look in his eyes, daring you to challenge him.

“I told you, I’ll make sure everyone knows who you belong to.”

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[zepskies]

Hi, how are you?

I was wondering if you could write something like "Dean reads you wrong" but with Sam Please

Hey, lovely!

I'm doing well, thank you. 💜 I hope you are too! Hmm, I'm still working through my current bank of requests, but since "Dean reads you wrong" is so fresh, it got me thinking about how Sam would go about this...

Pairing: Sam Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: It's hard for Sam to admit he wants you...when he thinks you might want his brother.

Song Inspo: "If You're Gone" by Matchbox Twenty

Word Count: 1,600 Tags/Warnings: Fluff, angst, fear of unrequited love, mutual pining

Imagine: Sam reads you wrong.

When Sam falls for someone, he's...well, what he would call self-aware.

But also cautious.

He knows his own track record with women. He knows the life he leads, and has resigned himself to giving up most kinds of normalcy or domesticity.

And maybe, a part deep in the back of his brain has given up on the idea of love.

That's why it's so damn confounding...how you've managed to take him by surprise.

He's always been able to rely on you. Whether it's sharing the brunt of the research with him when Dean loses focus, or staying up with Sam on late nights, sharing mugs of tea and quiet conversation, bonding over familiar tastes in books, and '90s grunge music, of all things.

You also confessed to him, late one night, that you have a growing collection of mugs, fuzzy socks, and vinyl records, despite the fact that your record player has collected more dust than the bunker's old storage room.

You're wonderfully weird.

And you're unfailingly loyal to who you consider "your people." And Sam thinks (knows) he's fortunate enough to be included in that small circle.

Sam also knows, deep in his gut, no matter how much he tries to "rationalize" it away, that you're special. And special to him.

You've managed to do more than just slip under his skin. When he thinks too hard on it, he can admit it (just to himself). You've infiltrated all four corners of his heart so deeply, he doesn't have a prayer of scooping you out.

Some days, it's all he can do not to reach out while you're chatting away, filling the silence.

He can picture it like a scene in his mind: of interrupting your mouth with a gentle hand on your cheek, tilting your face up to his and showing you, with or without words, that he wants you...

And yet.

He can't help but watch how you are with Dean.

You two tease each other, bicker and gripe over coffee grinds left in the coffee pot and who ate the last of the leftovers. You fight with Dean over the remote on movie night (once, damn near smothering him with a pillow).

But you also dote on him, making sure Dean has one of his favorite desserts every time you go out to buy groceries. You swap his beer out for water when he's not looking. (And though Dean frowns and grumbles, he doesn't argue with your raised brow and imploring look.)

It's not quite flirting, but it's not quite platonic either—at least in Sam's eyes. You and Dean seem to have something.

And sometimes, your playful banter with his brother makes Sam sick to his stomach.

Like today, when Sam’s sitting at the kitchen table reading while you're making a cup of tea. The silence between you two is amiable, like usual.

Sam steals a glance at you and has to smile.

"Going with purple polka dots today?" he asks.

You look over with knitted brows of confusion, until you follow his gaze. You laugh sheepishly and wiggle your toes through your fuzzy socks.

"The floor is cold as hell," you defend yourself.

Sam's smile deepens a fraction as he turns back to his book.

"They're cute," he adds.

You turn your face to hide your blush. The mild thunder of heavy boots announces Dean's presence as he pops into the kitchen.

"Oh good, you're cooking. What's for dinner?" he asks. You turn to give him a familiar narrowed look.

"Who says I'm cooking?" you counter.

"Well, you're doing something on the stove..." Dean peers over and catches a whiff of the concoction you're brewing. He grimaces. "Second thought, I'm good. That smells like ass, whatever it is."

You roll your eyes at him. "It's just green tea, Dean. You know, health?"

He levels a deadpan expression at you as he opens up the pantry.

"I see your 'health' and I raise you...Doritos," he says. He digs his hand into the bag he's just pilfered and crunches a mouthful in your face. You can't help but splutter a laugh and push Dean away.

"You're ridiculous. If you catch a heart attack at 50, don't come crying to me."

"Hey, at least I'll die happy."

"Oh, right. A silver lining there. I'd hate to see what your arteries look like," you tease.

"Has anyone told you that you're unsavory?" Dean asks, continuing to crunch with an open mouth.

You smirk. "Is that your way of calling me sweet?"

He snorts. "Sure, sweetheart. We'll call it that."

"You know, I'm not your sweetheart," you point out.

Dean discreetly glances his brother's way with a sly glint in his eyes. Sam doesn't see it; by now he's trying his damndest to keep his eyes in his book and ignore the way his stomach is clenching, chest tightening.

Dean shifts his attention back at you and reaches down to brush your chin with his thumb.

"Not yet, but you could be," he says, in a flirtatious edge that he's never quite taken with you.

You're wide-eyed for a moment. In the end, though, you choose to take it as teasing. You push his hand away and give him an annoyed look.

"God, you're such a clown. Order a pizza if you're that hungry," you rejoin, and you pour two mugs of freshly brewed tea. "I won't even bother offering you one."

"Nope," Dean says, popping the "p." He walks out of the kitchen, giving Sam a firm slap on the back. Sam coughs and shoots his brother a frown.

Dean has the gall to wink at him before he walks out. Like he's having his own little private joke.

Well, Sam isn't laughing. He stares down hard at his book. He tries to ignore everything he just heard and saw out of the corner of his eye.

It becomes too much. He takes up his book and heads out of the kitchen.

He just doesn't see the way you frown as he walks away. There you stand, left holding two mugs of tea for you and him.

Sam returns to his room for a while. He's not hiding. He's...reading.

There's a knock at his door, and if it's Dean, he swears he's going to open his mouth and tell his brother to leave him the hell alone, like he's some kind of moody teen.

But it's you.

"Hey," you greet, after the door creaks open. Sam softens.

"Hey," he says, clearing his throat. "What's up?"

"You," you reply. You bring him his hot mug of tea and set it down on the desk where he sits.

"Thanks," he says.

You nod and place your mug beside his (Lord of the Rings themed, of course), and cross your arms as you lean against his desk.

Sam turns toward you in his chair. His hands rest on his thighs. His gaze travels back up to your face as he tries to keep his neutral, but welcoming to whatever you want to ask him. (He buries his heart deep, as he instinctively does whenever you're near him.)

"You okay?" you ask. Your brows furrow the longer you gaze down at him. Just staring, like you know he's hiding something. Like you can see straight into him, into the shadows where he keeps most of his thoughts of you.

This is perhaps the only area of his life where he's a coward.

"Yeah, I'm good," Sam replies, in a tone that suggests, Why wouldn't I be?

You quirk a smile. "Why don't I believe you?"

Sam swallows. For once, he's not sure what to say to you.

"You know you can talk to me, right?" you say softly. You take a subtle step into his orbit, almost between his open legs. Your demeanor says that you'd gladly listen, do whatever he asked of you. Because you're just that kind.

Sam's mouth twitches upward. "I know. I'm fine, really."

"You're fine, or you're Winchester fine?" you raise a brow.

Sam chuckles then, showing a flash of his smile. It lightens you.

"Maybe a bit of the second one," he admits.

You smile and inch closer, resting a hand on his shoulder.

"Yeah? Tell me," you say. Your voice is soft, but not quite a whisper.

It leads Sam to sigh. He grasps your hand where it lies on his shoulder. For a moment, he debates internally. He realizes then that Dean's antics earlier might've been more than just teasing. Maybe it was a subtle nudge—to stop wasting time.

Damn it, just do something, Sam thinks.

When you squeeze his hand back, it's just the small push he needs. He glances up at you.

Then he takes your hand and holds it between both of his, with care. He tugs you forward, surprising you as you step forward between his legs. Your mouth parts in soft surprise when he reaches a hand up to your cheek.

You still look surprised, blushing up to your ears, but you're not pulling away. In fact, your widened gaze moves from his eyes to his lips.

Sam smiles. He tugs you down to him and enacts a living daydream, finally kissing you with everything he has. Everything he’s had locked inside.

You respond to his mouth in kind; the subtle gasp of breath against his lips sharply cuts off as you sink into his kiss. Your trembling hand comes to his cheek, grazing the dull prickle of stubble. When your fingers dive into his hair next, it’s his turn to take a deep breath.

With each new kiss, he explores more of you. His hands find your waist, and he gathers you against his chest. You find purchase on his strong shoulders and give into the opportunity to straddle his hips, sitting in his lap while he continues to make your heartbeat wild in your chest.

Sam slows the kiss, only because his brain is starting to catch up with his heart. He wants to see your face, to make sure this is what you want.

He finds that and more when he looks up at you.

He brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, tenderly brushing his thumb against your cheek.

"Does that answer your question?" he asks, with a soft laugh. You join him and press your forehead against his.

"I don't know,” you tease. Your eyes are dancing, both with amusement and relief. Because your heart has wanted this for even longer than Sam's.

You lean back in to whisper close to his lips. “Maybe I need a little more clarity."

Sam takes you at your word.

AN: It's been a long time since I've written for Sam! 💜 I got in another request for him a while ago. I may dust that one off soon... Until then, let me know what you think of this!

(And don't worry. I didn't forget about the Soldier Boy imagine I promised. That will come out at the end of this week, most likely!)

Read Dean's version: "Dean reads you wrong."

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[joelsgoldrush]

swore i heard you whisper that you preferred us like that

joel miller x f!reader / 5,8k words

summary: you ask joel –the quiet, distant joel– to teach you how to ride a horse. they say the eyes are the window to the soul, and it must be true, because when he really sees you, it´s like he finally understands what you feel for him.

warnings: smut 18+ let’s pretend joel never left jackson, porn with plot, no use of y/n, age gap (reader is in her late 20s, joel is 56), grinding, oral (f receiving), fingering, masturbation, pet names, unprotected p in v (don't try this at home ok), dirty talk, soft!dom joel (sort of???), a bit of angst/feelings, joel gets all babygirl around reader, ellie appears for like a minute, mediocre attempt at recreating joel's southern accent (sorry in advance)

a/n: hello??? well this is my first fic ever so bear with me, i'm still new to all this. also english isn't my first language so i'm afraid there may be mistakes (mostly when it comes to collocations bc i hate them and they confuse me), buuuut i'm learning obviously and if you find anything that should be corrected PLEASE TELL ME thank you :) i'd appreciate if you told whether you liked this story (idk what to call it tbh) but if you don't it's more than fine! anyways thank you so much for reading if you come across this fic, i hope you like it! i've spent a week writing it bc finals season is killing me &lt;///3

here's my masterlist in case you want to read my other works :)

"Oh, my drunken southern star / How you tried to hide in darkness / Slipped from orbit / Now you’re dangerously close / Come out, come out from all your hiding out / We’ll dig in our heels, salute the battlefields / Where our broken hearts were born."

What is it that he has?

You used to ask yourself that question every night as you went to bed. On some occasions, you couldn't manage to come up with an exact answer. There were too many reasons that disclosed why a man like him lingered on your mind, even in those moments that were supposed to be for you and only you. Sleeping more than three hours a day was definitely something you needed tremendously, but still, the not-so-rational voice inside your head kept on bringing his name up without fail, disturbing your rest.

Joel Miller. Was it possible to feel like this? Like you knew somebody without having exchanged more than five words with them? Sure, there wasn't a single person in Jackson who wasn't aware of his existence. From whispered rumors in the streets to stories that intended to give his reserved personality an explanation, Joel became a real talking-point among those in the commune. Years ago, when the world was still just a floating ball in space, he would’ve frightened you, being the kind of person your parents used to warn you about as you started to grow older.

He walked a certain way, as if he were holding the suffering of many lives in his hands. Always on guard, prepared to fight those who defied him. Hidden knives in his pockets, a gun between his fingers, the trigger too tempting to be pulled at any time given. His hair was a mixture of brown and gray, and you swore that the latter was only becoming more prominent as days went by. 

Suddenly, your pillow felt too uncomfortable, your hands fisting the fabric of your t-shirt while you kicked the blanket resting on top of your bare feet. A sigh escaped your lips, the taste of something you couldn't even distinguish on your tongue, your unsteady breath being the only sound to be heard in that noiseless night. 

You were having a hard time figuring out how you felt about Joel (if there was anything to feel in the first place, since he barely remembered your face and there you were, fantasizing about him instead of sleeping.) Maybe you liked how he presented himself, how bossy and persistent he looked the times you caught him patrolling around the zone. Or perhaps it was his character what charmed you in the first place, and the fact that, deep down, a different side from him remained completely unseen.

He was handsome, too. Tall, broad shoulders, aquiline nose. His arms looked majestic in every single piece of clothing he wore, his tanned skin shiny enough to reflect the very same sun. And his legs… you were sure they were muscular like the rest of his body, because of all the physical effort he did. You had  heard that he worked as a contractor before the pandemic, which made a lot of sense. Once or twice you had paid attention to his hands and–

Then, a familiar feeling sinked in. Warm began spreading through your belly, your thighs involuntary clenching together. “Fuck,” you muttered in a low tone, keeping your hands glued to your sides. Another motive not to think about Joel: he made you feel… things. Certain things that you hadn't felt for anyone in a very long time. You preferred to think that it was probably due to the fact that you were touch-starved, and not because you found yourself deeply attracted to him. Never had you ever been a sexually active person, so why now? Why did the mere image of Joel in your mind turn you on? 

He’s strong. I’m alone. I feel the need to find someone who’s willing to protect me. That’s it. No other reason.

Your internal monologue was lacking in arguments, but it was definitely something you could work with. As if on cue, you found it hard to keep your eyes open, your limbs not feeling as if they were yours anymore. Next thing you knew, you were asleep.

That night, you dreamt with Joel.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★

In a small cabin, you taught children how to paint and draw. Maria believed it to be helpful for their psychological development or something like that, and you had agreed to do it. A good way to spend your free time– that’s what it was. Plus, you liked children; some would even choose to include you in their drawings, and that small gesture just warmed your heart.

There, you met Ellie, a teenager whose basic vocabulary consisted mostly of profanities. 

And boy, you loved Ellie.

It was hard not to, actually. She was like a breath of fresh air, with her jokes and instant charm. You two became attached in a short time, and she reminded you of a younger version of you, just a lot braver. Although in this world it brought her benefits, you sometimes wished she wouldn’t have gone through all that shit. Those eyes, which squinted as she laughed if you tickled her sides, were the cemetery of many buried memories. You wondered how she managed to put a smile on her face despite her past and the horrible things she had seen, hoping it was genuine and not a mask.

“Look!” her voice brought you back to reality. Blinking in her direction, you realized the amount of paint you had dropped onto the floor, a red stain already forming on the carpet. “Are you okay? You seem off.”

“I’m fine! Just a bit sleepy today, that's all,” you got closer to where she was lying down, her fingers moving the brush you had gifted her in different directions. Squatting a bit, you placed a strand of hair that didn’t make it into her ponytail behind her ear. “So, what are you painting?”

She smiled warmly, and her teeth catched her lower lip momentarily. “It’s not finished, okay? Don’t freak out. I know you’re a perfectionist.”

“I’m not…” you tried to explain yourself, but ended up choosing to be defeated. “Maybe you’re right. Anyway, may I see it?”

The canvas was in your hands a few moments later. Ellie spoke beside you, her words mixing together in a sign of embarrassment. “It’s for Joel. Figured I could do something nice for him, you know? I don’t– I think I need to start over. His eyes look kind of strange, don’t they? They’re so close he looks like a cyclops.”

“Don’t say that, kiddo. This is… it’s beautiful,” your index finger traced the lines framing his jaw, the shades of his skin perfectly achieved. You held the painting even tighter, afraid of breaking it for a second. He wasn’t frowning like he normally did; Ellie had painted him smiling, and the crinkles by his eyes matched his age. Surely you must have spent more time than necessary staring at it, ‘cause then Ellie continued talking.

“Well, you know what they say: The student has become the teacher.” 

You handed the canvas to her, a smirk taking place on your face. “Yeah, I guess I’ll stop teaching you if that’s the case.”

An hour or so later, someone knocked on the door. As both of your hands were occupied (a more formal way to say that they were dirty with paint), you screamed “Come in!”, and Ellie covered her painting with an old, muddy curtain you used to clean the tables in which the children worked. You were about to ask her why she had reacted in that way, until you turned around and saw him.

Joel was there, as every other Wednesday. In your cabin, standing right in front of you. And you didn’t even look presentable. His hair looked messy, a couple of locks stuck to his forehead with sweat. “Hi,” he said shortly, meeting your gaze and attempting to shake your hand, but you avoided contact.

Showing him your hands, you held your palms in the air as an indication of the still fresh paint on your skin. “Sorry. If I were to accept the gesture, I’d leave you a stain.”

He retrieved a bit, adjusting his glove. “It’s okay. Safety first.”

That was supposed to be a joke, you noticed tardily. The silence in the room persisted until Ellie appeared from behind your back, already putting her coat on.

“You were supposed to pick me up in half an hour, asshole.”

His mouth snapped shut for an instant. “I missed you too. How was the class?” 

Ellie lifted her shoulder in a half shrug, looking in your direction and proceeding to jerk her thumb toward Joel. She didn’t want him to see the painting. “Fine as usual.”

“Can I see what you’re–”

“No fucking way!” she accentuated the word fucking, drawing him closer to the door. 

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not done.”

“But–”

“No more questions, Joel. Let’s go! Say bye!” Ellie handled him like a baby, which made you giggle.

Though you saw Joel raising his eyebrows, so you stopped laughing. 

Soon, they left and the cabin returned to its familiar quietness. A sigh erupted from your chest, and you allowed yourself to fall on top of a chair.

At least you could say you had actually talked to Joel for once.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★

It didn’t surprise you that you wanted to see him again.

Not in the “you-turn-me-on” way, but in the “you-seem-interesting-and-i-need-to-find-out-why” one.

He had something. Something so magnetic and indecipherable that kept pulling you towards him. Something that made you look for his presence in every crew, and not sensing what it was only made your wishes to dissect him grow bigger. There was a tiny probability that he was an idiot with a pretty face. Who knew? You definitely didn’t, and that needed to change. You deserved to know if pining over that man was worth it or not.

That chain of thoughts led you to look for him the next day, almost trembling with eagerness as you asked him the most stupid and unexpected question you could have imagined.

“Would you teach me how to ride a horse?”

He looked at you as if you were out of your mind, opening his mouth a few times and then closing it before he actually replied to you. “You’re tellin' me you don’t know how to ride a horse?”

“Tried it a few times, but failed and now I really want to learn to do it properly,” you swore his eyes were trying to decipher if you were saying the truth or not. “Ellie told me that you could probably make some time to teach me?”

“So Ellie's in charge of my schedule, I suppose?” you froze on the spot, and he must have noticed it because then his expression dulled. “Sorry, sweetheart. It was a joke. I've been told I'm not the best humorist.”

Sweetheart. You could’ve died a happy girl.

“Look, why don’t we meet up tomorrow after lunch? I'm sure it won’t take us much time. Not a difficult task, y’know?” he stroked his beard, apparently thinking you understood what he was talking about. 

“Sure. Thank you, Joel. My name’s–“

He didn’t let you finish. “I do know your name,” and before leaving, he repeated: “I’ll be here tomorrow. You know where to find me.”

To say that you slept without interruptions that night was an understatement. Each hour seemed to become longer the more you glimpsed your watch. Your heart drummed inside your chest violently, and you feared that someone else would be able to hear it if they got close enough to you. 

After having lunch in the same spot as every other mundane day, your legs took you to the stable. You took a shaky breath, expecting him to appear out of thin air, but fifteen minutes went by, and there was still no sign of Joel. Pressing your forehead against the wooden door, you wrapped your arms around yourself. “What was I even thinking?” 

“Hey.”

You looked to your side and– there he was, already getting inside the stable and inviting you to follow him. Joel petted one of the horses, clicking his tongue. His fingers caressed the animal’s back, and when he shot a glance at you, he didn’t ignore your disturbed expression.

“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of horses.”

“I’m not afraid of them,” you laughed awkwardly, eyeing the horse, which stared at you with those big and strange eyes. You raised your hand to mimic Joel, but that just made the animal move further away from you. “I guess it’s mutual. We don’t like each other.”

Joel smirked, guiding you outside. “It’s a damn horse. I don’t think you can tell whether he likes you or not. You gotta change that attitude of yours,” he murmured as he got on top of the horse, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Treat him well and he’ll be nice.”

At first, Joel taught you the basics: how to position yourself for balance, get your legs in the right position, hold the reins properly. A little bit of help coming from him was needed for you to mount the horse. He got down on one knee, patting it as if it were a mounting block. “Come on. Step on it.”

No need to ask me twice, you thought as you did what you were told, and once you were grabbing on those reins for dear life, you observed him with curious eyes. “Now what?”

“Now…” he pressed his hand into one of the horse’s sides, and afterwards, the horse began to fucking trot and you cried out, a high-pitched shriek slipping from your mouth. Joel laughed maliciously, almost hypnotized by the scene. “Now is when you learn how to ride a horse!”

“This isn't funny!” you screamed, the horse still very much entertained with the way you were jerking on top of him. “Stop!”

You couldn't believe how he kept… cracking up. Joel touched his stomach, shaking with laughter. “You’re a natural, can’t you see it? I’m havin' the time of my life here.”

“What I can see is that you’re an idiot! Cut the cackle and help me!”

But he didn’t move a single muscle. Instead, he remained still, that smug look never abandoning his features.

The bastard. “You’re gonna make me beg? In this situation?”

Crossing his arms while teasingly grinning at you, he added: “Wouldn’t hurt to try.”

“Joel Miller, will you help me? Pretty please?” your hair was getting in the way, and you could taste it as you insisted. “Is that enough for you?”

It was, actually. He helped you get down from the horse, his thick fingers digging into the mushy skin of your waist. It shouldn’t have felt that good, but it did. You were supposed to be angry at him for setting you up and still, by touching you for a microsecond, he had transformed you into something malleable.

Sadly, that feeling didn’t last much longer. “Didn’t know you were a man of manners. Should’ve told me beforehand.”

“Didn't know you could scream like that. I hope you didn’t freak anyone out.”

The two of you continued to practice until nightfall. A thing you also learned, apart from horse riding, was that Joel was a determined man. Everytime you tried to quit, he stopped you, making it impossible for you to rest. You stared at him, rubbing the back of your sore neck with a grimace. “I’m tired. Can we go back?”

“One more time.”

“Joel–”

“Trot a couple of meters just one more time, and that’s it for today. Can you do that for me?”

You tried not to pay too much attention to his choice of words, although it was basically non-viable. He looked sinful, and you longed to shut him up with a bruising kiss. Again, a hopeless option. Your hands itched to touch him, to feel his stubble, rough and coarse under your thumbs. How could you stay focused when the man you had been daydreaming with for the last couple of months was bossing you around? 

Despite your inability to clear your head of any of those thoughts, you managed to accomplish what he had asked you to do. “Well done,” he offered you his hand to dismount the horse and you accepted it, sighing as you stretched out your arms. “We should take him back to the stable,” Joel suggested, giving you the impression of being pleased as you told him you were coming with him.

Inside the stable, he relocated the horse into one of the many stalls. Unbelievably, the place didn’t smell like absolute shit, which was what you were expecting from a barn. “Thank you for the lesson,” you told Joel once he was done with the horse.

“Anytime,” he scratched his jaw, the dim light making his dark eyes look, if possible, even darker. “It wasn’t that bad, was it?”

“No. You were right,” your heart thrummed with every word that he blurted. His presence was addictive. You were never the one to have any bad habits, but deep down, you recognized that he easily could develop one. “I thought you were less talkative.”

“So did I,” for an instant, he pressed his lips together, forming a tight line, as if he had said something he shouldn’t have in the first place. “I think I didn’t ask you this before: but why now? I mean, why did you wait so much time to learn how to ride a horse? Everyone in Jackson seems to know how.”

You cleared your throat, his piercing eyes peering at your movements. “I guess I thought it wasn't necessary back then, before all this. It's one of those things that you don't even consider until it becomes inevitable. I used to believe I had a lot of time left when I was younger,” you had never talked about this with anyone else. There was something so intimate about this conversation, how Joel stood seemingly tongue-tied in front of you, as if he were taking notes of what you were confessing to him. “I remember being a kid and not wanting to use my toys sometimes because I kept waiting for the right moment. But then…”

“You realize there’s no such thing as the right moment,” he finished the sentence for you, and you bowed your head. “Life can end at any moment, especially in a world like ours. That’s why you always gotta do what you wish to. We never know what’ll happen tomorrow.”

“Live for today, hope for tomorrow? That’s your creed?” you tried to mock him, the tension in the stable far from evident, but he didn’t move.

“It’s the way I try to live my own life. I don’t like being left with the desire to do somethin’ I could’ve done earlier. Too old for that.”

Maybe you were gradually losing it. Perhaps just a little. It couldn’t be a coincidence, right? Had he noticed how you acted around him? Were you that obvious?

“So, you would advise me to just…”

“Do whatever you feel right, sweetheart.”

That raspy sweetheart made you give in.

His eyes. His penetrating, gleaming eyes scrutinized your face at the same time you closed the distance between your bodies. From there, you were able to see every freckle, every small detail that you hadn’t previously acknowledged. He parted his lips, as if to speak, but no words other than your name came out. One of your hands made its way up to his cheek, cupping it, feeling the warmth his skin radiated. His head immediately leaned into your touch, like a moth into a flame. 

You kissed him, unable to keep waiting. It took him what felt like ages to kiss you back, his fingers tangling in your hair. He absorbed your whimpers, pressing your back against the nearest wall. Maddening– it was the perfect word to describe how being kissed by Joel felt like. When you thought he was going to draw away from you, he just held you tighter until your lungs implored for some air. Your knees had never felt this weak, and you found yourself grabbing onto his shoulders, already feeling the places where his stubble had left its trace in flames. 

“Joel…” you mumbled against his lips, detaching your mouth from his. Your erratic breaths seemed to sync together like a melody, and you tugged at the collar of his jacket. 

He knew, could see it on your features. “Wanna go to yours?”

Joel took you home. The moment you set foot in the cabin, he closed the door behind him, his hand lingering on the handle as he contemplated you from a distance. You took your coat off first, starting to unzip your pants. There was silence long enough to hear crickets in, the moon up in the sky being the only bystander of your meeting. His eyes roamed the newly exposed skin of your legs and you observed him gulp. 

“Did something happen?” you asked him, a flush crepting up your face. Taking a step forward, one of his hands came to rest on top of yours.

“No, it’s just that– Are you sure you want this?”

Crinkling your nose, you uttered: “Why wouldn’t I?”

“I’m just too old for you,” he warned you, running a knuckle down your cheek. “You should be with guys your age, y’know? Not with an old man like me.”

“I want you,” reassuring him, you got rid of your t-shirt, and the fact he was still dressed up from neck to toes lit some kind of fire inside you. His calloused fingers fiddled with the strap of your bra until it slipped off your shoulder. “This is what I want. Please, Joel.”

It turned out that Joel Miller certainly was a man of manners.

You couldn't help but moan as he grabbed you by the waist, dragging you to the couch by the window and straddling his lap, his hard-on finding its place beneath you, pulsing and in need of more. His tongue brushed yours ever so often, and your eyes rolled to the back of your head as his teeth latched onto the skin of your throat. Joel groaned, the sound, low and primal, having its desired effect on you, your hips involuntarily grinding against his in a delicious but tormenting rhythm that already had you on the verge of tears.

“Joel, please,” you managed to plead, not knowing precisely what you were asking for. His hands cupped your ass, imprinting his fingerprints on the soft flesh, forcing your hips to go harder and harder. The harsh fabric of his pants was definitely going to leave a mark on your cheeks, and thinking that helped you realize that you were the only one –almost– naked. You reached for the buttons of his denim shirt, your lips hovering over his. “Take your clothes off?”

He did the rest himself, throwing his jacket to the floor. When he got to his jeans, he cocked his head. “Why don’t we move this to the bedroom, if you’re so goddamn needy?” The few guys you had been with had never been very talkative during sex; there was even this one specific boy who had asked you to not make a sound while he fucked you. 

But Joel wasn’t like them. It was just starting and you had already realized that he had a dirty mouth, an expectant look on his face every time he waited for your reaction to his words. “Now you’re quiet, huh? Thought you wanted me to fuck you, darlin',” one of his fingers pressed down on your clit, stimulating it through your underwear. He sighed, stopping his movements and pressing the damp pad of it against your lower lip, urging you to taste yourself. “You’re wet, baby. So fuckin’ wet. Have you been like this all day? Bet you would’ve let me take you right there in the forest.”

“Oh my God,” you whined next to his ear, your whole body trembling with desire. “Take me to bed,” you begged him, and next thing you knew, he was grabbing you as if you weighed nothing and heading towards your room. 

Not knowing how, you kept your hands to yourself until he placed you on top of the bed. Joel shoved his jeans down and you didn’t think twice– you stroked his length, the fabric of his boxers only making the slow drag of your hand more satisfying. His long fingers circled your throat, and you moaned as you kept eliciting exquisite noises from him. “Let me take care of you,” his dilated pupils carved holes in your being, his grip doing nothing to cease the ache between your legs. “Please, baby. I need to make you feel good. Been thinkin’ about this for so long.”

“What?” you slowed down your pace, looking up at him through your eyelashes. “You wanted me?”

“Why do you think I began to pick Ellie up from your classes, huh? Because I’m a good, generous man?” Joel parted your knees, getting closer to where you required him the most. “I’m sorry to ruin this, but I’m far from good. Just wanted to see you and your pretty face. Didn’t know if we were on the same page until you came lookin' for me, askin' me to teach you how to ride a damn horse,” you hadn’t noticed your bra was missing till he cupped one of your breasts, flicking your nipple between his fingers. “I’m sure there were many other people you could’ve asked to teach you, but you chose me, didn’t you?”

“Don’t want anybody else,” your lips chased his, a drop of sweat already rolling down your temple. “I didn’t– didn’t know you noticed me.”

“How could I not? If you could only look at yourself like I’m doing right now… You’re a sight, sweetheart, all spread out for me,” removing your panties, he kissed the skin where your inner thighs met, his tongue darting out to draw imaginary figures on your flesh. His mouth was just inches away from your cunt, and you had to tell him.

“Joel?”

“What’s wrong?”

“I’ve never– nobody has ever done that for me.”

He seemed to understand what you were referring to. It made you tense a bit, despite the fact that you were completely naked in front of him, basically begging him to tear you apart. Still, the realization that you weren't as expert as him hit you out of nowhere. Yeah, it was all fun and games, kissing and touching probably the hottest man you had seen in your almost three decades of life. But said man was a lot older than you, and he had lived his best years in the real world, not this fucked up version you grew up in. You were sure he had been with many different women, which wasn’t a problem– you two were nothing.

“Nobody has ever tasted ya’? That’s what you’re tryin’ to tell me?” you nodded quickly, shoving a strand of his graying hair back away from his eyes. Joel chuckled languidly, squeezing your hips. “Do you want me to? It’s okay if you don’t. We can try somethin’ else.”

“Please,” you’d have time to embarrass yourself later, thinking about the amount of times you had repeated that word. But certain moments were to be lived only once, and though you hoped it wasn't the case, you had to take the chance. “I want you to.”

Four words. It took Joel four words to disappear between your legs, licking a hot stripe up your folds. You nibbled on your bottom lip, a loud moan filling the void of your dorm. He drew sweet patterns in your cunt, discovering a part of you that no one else ever had, and you couldn’t help but to grind against his face as he dipped the tip of his tongue into your entrance. Breathing wasn’t a necessity anymore. You felt as if all the air in the world was being punched out of your lungs, the knot in your belly growing tighter the more Joel spent his precious time keeping you entertained.

At some point, he focused his attention on your clit, circling it over and over again, making you shudder. Suddenly, the pad of his middle finger tested the waters, and he slowly slid it into your cunt, earning a strangled whine from you. Burying your hands in his hair, your glossy eyes looked for him for a second. You shouldn’t have done that, because as you took in the sight of Joel with his own eyes closed, browns knitted, your nostrils flared, and you wondered if it was even possible to want somebody that much.

“Joel, wait, I’m– fuck,” your jaw went slack and you scrunched up your face, two of his thick fingers nudging that spot that made you see stars. “I’m close.” 

“That’s a good thing, sweetheart. Don’t know why you say it in such a dry tone,” his mouth curved into a smile, his chin and stubble shining with your slick. 

Your chest rose and fell with rapid breaths. “I don’t want to come yet.”

“But you will.”

A thing you also learned, apart from horse riding, was that Joel was a determined man.

“Joel–“

“I’ll make you come with my mouth, and then with my cock,” dizziness was starting to blur your vision, your eyelashes fluttering with every hard thrust of his fingers. You glanced up to the ceiling, tears filling your eyes. “Think you can do that for me, be my good girl and come twice?”

You bobbed your head. It was official: he was going to make you come.

Drawing in a long breath, you could feel the unbearable pressure in your core. His name sounded like a prayer on your lips, chanting it in the same way some people expressed their devotion to a certain God. You had your own personal deity, whose tongue accomplished to push you to the limit, licking every drop of your release as if it were a special kind of forbidden elixir.  

Your shoulders sagged and you relaxed under him. Joel kissed you, an open mouthed and filthy kiss crowning that moment as you panted. Through the cotton fabric of his boxers, you felt his hard-on poking your thigh. Shoving his underwear down, you took him in your hand, hot and just big, stroking him for real this time. You twisted your wrist at the tip, and he slumped forward, almost crushing you with his entire body weight, his breath dampening your neck. “Wanna fuck you, baby,” he croaked, his hips chasing your touch.

Out of all the scenarios you had ever imagined, none of them included being split open by Joel. You had a very vivid imagination, but no amount of creativity would’ve prepared you for what his cock would feel like inside of you. He bottomed out, his arms shaking where they rested on each side of your head. Joel’s breath quickened as he pulled out, just letting the tip, and then thrusting into you again.

“Fuck,” you didn’t recognize your own voice. It was even hard to decipher if you were still alive or dead from how magnificent he felt.

“So good, sweetheart. You’re so good, such a good girl,” he groaned, fucking deeper into you. His cock pulsed inside you, your cunt squeezing him. “Can’t believe how– how tight you are. You’re gonna make me lose my f–fucking mind.”

It was just too much. You hadn’t even recovered from your last orgasm before Joel started pounding into you like his life depended on it, the obscene sound of skin slapping skin ringing out in the room. 

“You gonna come, huh? Gonna make a mess?” you could sense he was also close, his pace faltering as seconds went by, words slurring together. He pressed his forehead against yours, clenching his fists and taking in a sharp breath. “Fuck. I’m not gonna last much longer, baby.”

Come inside, you wished to tell him, to feel his seed dripping out of your greedy hole, painting your walls. But you weren't on the pill; it was also the first time you were sleeping with Joel, and you didn’t know how he would take the… suggestion. “Close,” you yelped instead, tears shimmering in your eyes as Joel’s body hovered over you like the most perfect eclipse. 

His thrusts became more frenzied, if possible. “That’s it, darlin’. Come for me,” your gaze fixated upon him, his eyes flickering with hunger. “Wanna see you when you soak my cock.”

Your body went limp, your orgasm hitting you like a truck. Soreness took place in your throat as you moaned his name through the aftershocks, fireworks exploding behind your eyelids. Going rigid, you let go of Joel’s shoulders. He pulled out, mumbling something you didn’t quite catch. You fisted his cock, trying to give him the release he so yearned for. Joel kissed you, messy teeth and saliva taking part of it. Heavy on your hand, his dick twitched as you squeezed the base, roped of his warm cum splattering your belly. The scene reminded you of a painting; he was the talented painter, and you his blank canvas, waiting to be signed with his name.

It was the turn of silence now. None of you said anything for a while, until Joel used his boxers to clean up his cum from your stomach, smiling apologetically at you. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” your fingers delicately traced the contours of his chest as he reclined, enveloping you in the embrace of his strong arms. “Will you stay?”

Please say yes.

“Only if you want me to.”

Moral of the story: learning how to ride a horse can actually be nice if your teacher happens to be Joel Miller.

[lennjamin-o7]

Gosh, I'm sure I'll get some discourse on this, but I'll just delete it if I do-

I feel like people forget that L'manburg tried to kill Technoblade.

Like, when they talk about the Tommy/Technoblade betrayal, some people act like Technoblade should have just walked away and shrugged off that Tommy joined the people who tried to murder him. And who still WANT to murder him. Like, remember, after the failed Execution, Quackity talked about how they needed to put killing Technoblade on the back burner because Dream was a bigger threat, but they still VERY MUCH WANTED TO KILL TECHNOBLADE.

Did Tommy know all this? No, he couldn't have known it. He wasn't there. And I think Tommy choosing to go back and make amends with Tubbo was the correct thing to do for himself. I don't think it was the best choice to abandon Technoblade in a crater surrounded by enemies that want him dead, but I do think that Tommy NEEDED to reconcile with Tubbo. That was always a step he needed to take. That's his Tubbo.

But, like, why does it seem like some people just wanted Technoblade to shrug and give Tommy a pat on the back and let him keep the axe? What kind of rational person hears "Actually, now that they'll have me back, I'm going to rejoin the group of people that dropped an anvil on your head! Their companionship is more important to me than your safety" and reacts positively?

Did Tommy say that, word for word? No. Again, he didn't know about all of the hurt L'manburg caused Techno. But that's the message his actions send. Tommy chose Technoblade's would be murderers. Tommy chose the people that would definitely try again to murder Technoblade.

Why would Techno take that positively? Why wouldn't he be angry? Why wouldn't he feel like Tommy doesn't see him as a person, only a means to an end? Whether you think his reaction of blowing L'Manburg up was correct or not, how could you expect Technoblade to be anything less than hurt and angry at that?

It confuses me.

[borderlinereminders]

The Six Levels of Validation:

Listening/Paying Attention: Focus on listening to the other person. Stay in the present moment, and hear them out. Even if you don't agree with what they're saying. Let them have the floor.

Perhaps they're upset with you because you cancelled plans because you were sick.

Restating: Focus on what the person has said, and then re-state and ask something like "is that right?" Make sure to be non-judgmental. You might think their feelings aren't rational, but that doesn't change the fact the other person is feeling them.

In our example, this might mean "I understand that you were very excited to see me and then disappointed when that didn't happen. Is that right?"

Observing: This is where you observe, including the things that are unspoken. Make an educated guess on what is not being said, based on body language. (I'm personally not a big fan of this one because it can be tricky if you interpret something wrong and mention "you seem really angry because you feel betrayed" and that may upset someone. It also isn't easy to read body language. My point of this is that you are valid if you can't do this step, or don't want to. You can still validate someone.)

You might notice your friend's eyes are watering and they keep swallowing. "You seem really hurt and are maybe thinking I don't care about you because I cancelled on you."

Assessing:

Focus on what history tells us and maybe use this to point out how your friend's current response is not effective. Communicate whether the person's behaviour is understandable or not. You can use past experiences to communicate this.

Using another example, maybe your friend skipped a test because they were anxious about it. You might say "It's very normal to be anxious about tests, but you won't have a shot at passing the test if you don't take it."

Compassion

Show compassion for the other person. Even if you think they're completely wrong, treat them as an equal person with their own feelings and experiences. They are a person with their own strengths and weaknesses. Try and believe in them and that they are capable of change.

Say you have a friend that is anxious to go somewhere because her ex might be there, you might say "It is very understandable you are anxious. A lot of people would be in your situation."

Validation is so important in relationships. Even if you don't "get" someone's feelings, it doesn't make them less real to that person. The feelings that person is feeling are very real, regardless of whether they make sense.

Often, people aren't looking for advice or problem solving unless they say it. Validation is a fairly good response if they don't specify what they're looking for.

[pastanest]

Spencer Reid x gn!reader

A/N: been gone for a hot minute due to personal circumstances but just wanted to drop a lil something (that anyone who watches Doctor Who will be able to tell I started writing a BIT ago given the references here lol) to let you guys know I’m still kickin it <3

warnings: slight hint at an age gap but nothing specific

A Smile

You can imagine the rest of the team would be floored to hear that Spencer has actually exchanged texts with you on a multitude of occasions, outside of professional settings. Numbers were swapped on your first day, naturally, and to begin with you only dared text Spencer if you had absolutely no other choice (if another member of the team could text him, you’d busy yourself to ensure they would, rather than ask you, to save you the embarrassment). But, ever since the first occasion that you texted Spencer a random question out of hours - regarding trivia you definitely hadn’t spent a concerning amount of time deciding on before you sent it to him - you have formed a bond that’s unspoken beyond typed words.

You: so, are you looking forward to the 60th Anniversary? :P

As you hit send, you roll onto your bed, grinning giddily down at your phone. In no more than a few seconds, your screen tells you that your beloved genius is already typing back to you, and within a minute, you receive the paragraph you’d anticipated.

Spencer: Absolutely. The revival of Russel T. Davies’ era, coupled with the return of Murray Gold’s legendary scores, are sure to ignite the spark of nostalgia that the show has been missing for some time. In particular, I am looking forward to seeing how Russel will format this new regeneration of the Doctor, and how many references to his predecessors will decorate the anniversary episodes, especially. I take it you are excited for the anniversary episodes, too, hence the question?

His formality and enthusiasm being conveyed in a way that is so distinctly Spencer, even over text, is enough to have you giggling. You know by now that if you ask something about one of Spencer’s interests, whether it be facts, statistics, generalized trivia, questions, literature, Star Trek or, in this case, Doctor Who, there is no way he can downplay his excitement.

You: knew it! :D and yeah, I'm super excited!!

Mostly, you are thrilled by the thought of discussing the episodes at great length with Spencer for weeks after they’ve aired, but you keep that safely in the subtext of your conversation.

Spencer: Of course you knew. Perhaps we could share a live commentary on the anniversary episodes, if we’re not otherwise engaged with a case?

Only Spencer Reid can make your heart stop with a suggestion like that. Before you can consider any consequences, you are frantically typing back to him.

You: I’d love that! will the commentary be by text or call?

He is typing the moment your message reaches him, his ability to read at what you consider to be the speed of light making for a wonderfully speedy texting partner in every conversation you have.

Spencer: Either is fine, but if we aren’t away on a case, I must admit the idea of experiencing the episodes together in person would be most preferable. It eradicates the risk of our viewings not being synced up or our call connection potentially spoiling the immersion. What do you think?

And just like that, he’s stopped your heart again. In fact, you truly have to consider whether Spencer Reid has figured out a means of reaching through his phone to yours, to snatch your heart right out of your chest. As though he hadn’t already stolen it on the day you met.

You: I think you’re right, like always, Doctor Reid :P

That’s a rational reply, you think. Not too eager. Not the resounding ‘yes’ that every fiber of your being is screaming. In the chess game that is how-to-text-Spencer-Reid, you have marked yourself as the queen. He’d tell you that’s not how chess works, but he’d probably also agree.

Spencer: I’m far from right “always”, but I very much appreciate that you think so.

You’re about to reply, when another text appears on your screen.

Spencer: (:

Doctor Spencer Reid has double-texted you. And, not only that, he’s sent you a smiley face. This is unprecedented. Your jaw drops.

You: omg you did not just send that

Honestly, your life is flashing before your eyes as you lie on your bed. Is this the power of your influence? Could you truly indoctrinate older men into sending emojis? Could this really be you?

Spencer: I most certainly did. I’ll even do it again.

Spencer: (:

He had to send it as a separate text. He couldn’t just add the smiley face to the end of his original message. No, of course he couldn’t.

You: omg who are you!!

You’re laughing now. Actually, properly laughing at the ridiculousness of this situation. Wait until Penelope hears about this.

Spencer: I don’t think these suit me very much, but they are fun. What about this one - 🙂

This is going too far. You’ve played God. You’ve flown too close to the sun. You’ve created a monster in the form of Spencer Reid using emojis while still being so formal. Still, you can’t deny that this is perhaps the funniest conversation you have ever had, with anyone, specifically because it perfectly demonstrates the unique humor shared between the two of you.

You: woah! careful! don’t push it, genius!!

And, in response to that, Spencer Reid is left with a philosophical question he has never before pondered: how does one convey sincere laughter via text? This reply takes him the longest, because he has to consider it very carefully. He wants it to indicate how funny he did find your message, and does find you, in general. He wants it to be obvious in its intent and impossible to misunderstand. So, after four minutes, you receive a text that has you laughing so hard you very nearly fall off of your bed.

Spencer: Haha.

Sometimes, that’s simply how your text conversations with Spencer end. While he does, generally, prefer a more traditional ending in the form of a goodnight text (that he actually makes the effort to sign off with a “- Spencer x”, like it’s a handwritten letter), he enjoys the nuances of an open end, on the basis it means a conversation with you doesn’t have to end. Only has to pause, temporarily, until one of you picks it back up again. There is something poetic, Spencer thinks, to the notion of you being his constant both in metaphor and literally in a text conversation that isn’t formally closed. That door is left open to you, much like the door to his heart is.

And that night, he closes his eyes with a smile on his face at the thought of you, everything you are, everything you make him feel. Everything that makes you, you, and how that makes you everything to him.

A text could never truly convey the heaven that you bring to him by existing, but just like proposing plans to watch Doctor Who with you, it’s a good place to start.

[ryomens-vixen]

Yandere!Gojo Satoru -Drabble?

❤️‍🩹 CW: Gojo is a Warning, Cheating, Slight NSFW, Yandere Tendencies, threats, dub/noncon?

❤️‍🩹 Word Count: 🤷🏾‍♀️girl idk...no wc today.

❤️‍🩹 Author's notes: This was COMPLETELY out of no where, I was bored and instead of finishing this Toji fic I randomly decided to write Yandere Gojo. So enjoy and don't ask me to write for Gojo 🙄 this is a one time thing...

I don't think y'all understand how TERRIFYING yandere Gojo could actually be- like I'm not a Gojo girlie, but I pay attention to him enough to know this nga is real deal terrifying. Like let's say you and him had a bad break up and he pops up at your house after you blocked him on everything, trying to explain himself and you close the door in his face. Now the RATIONAL thing to do would just be to leave. But Satoru? Chile his only rational thoughts are he either hollow purple the house or simply teleport inside and continue where he left off. Cause what the fuck does he look like letting you go?

Nah, he'll teleport in the house and of course scare tf outta you- and whatchu gone do about it? Nothing, you can't even touch this man. Like yeah you can scream, shout, throw shit at him all you want, but it's not like you can touch the nga. You gone hear him, you gone listen to every word he has to say and even if you do decide to reject his advances he WILL stay in your house, all up in your face, all up in your bed, eating your food, etc. He's gonna make you take him back whether you like him or not, but you not leaving him. Whatchu gone do? He's the strongest, nobody can step to him except Suguru, but where is he? Nobody knows. So really all you can do is deal with him being there, annoying you, trying to talk your panties off, the mood swings I mean really you have to watch what you say to him cause his cheerful mood can switch to unhinged so quick and you know exactly how bad he can get so it's better to just play along with him until you're no longer mad at him.

I mean just the other day he told you he loved you so much but you- you clearly forgot who you were dealing with and slipped up saying you didn't love him. Now why would you slip up and say that to him? Now he's all eerily quiet and you were standing there washing the dishes like you didn't just piss off a monster? Next thing you know he's got your head in the dish water and his dick buried in your pussy, His blindfold restricting your hands, every now in then he feels you pushing your head against his hand he pulls your head up from the water only to ask you in a serious tone of you love him or not. Now... There's a right answer for everything so even if you didn't love him it would be very.. Wise to say you do- unless you want this blue eyed, white haired demon to drown you?

Or the time he caught you swiping on tinder? Are you out of your mind? You have to be- ain't no way you forgot who's in your house. Gojo had half a mind to trap you in his infinite void for a second, but listen- he's trying, he's trying to not be so impulsive, trying to communicate better, trying to not show you how weak you are compared to him. He tried to communicate to you how much it hurts him to see you on tinder, and what did you say to him?

"We're not together so it doesn't matter, Satoru. "

It's something wrong witcho dumbass like do you just forget how much danger you're in fuckin around with Gojo? THEE strongest? The Six Eyes? Head of the Gojo Clan? Now you're sitting here wondering why you can't breathe and seeing stars. He literally took you're phone and shattered it, now he's knocking the Sonic Rings out your pussy. Do you still wanna keep playing with this man? Because after this you're sure as hell going to watch what you say or do around him now.

Only after you get done getting the Chaos Emeralds knocked out your pussy. I mean he is ruthless, turning your ever which way but loose, knees always behind your heads while he's quite literally bullying your cervix, but the way that you're a babbling mess underneath him turned him on even more, but I guess that's you're fault you should have watched what you said, and now here you are getting stuffed to the brim with his cum, those bright blue eyes, that crazied smile stretched across his face, forcing you to make eye contact with him. Gojo enjoyed seeing that expression you were making, he knows he's the only only who could ever fuck you like this, his dick is the best you've ever had nobody could compare to him no matter how mad you were.

"That's right baby, you're my girl, aren't 'cha? Mine, Mine, Mine. You.. Fuck.. You and this pussy mean so much to me!"

"Say it, Y/N, Say you love me baby, say it, say it, say it!"

"Fuck- This pussy s'good, s'good baby, just for me."

"You'll t-take me back, be a family again, you'd like that wouldn't you? Putting a fuckin baby in you- wouldn't you?!"

Out of everything he said that's the only thing that caught your attention, your panic? You were never ready for a baby- But what were you gonna do? Deny him? You've already fucked up denying him a relationship, Yeah he cheated, but in your current situation was it really ever that deep? He never showed his crazy until now and too be honest it was scary and arousing at the same time. But you had to come back to earth before he ACTUALLY baby traps you. Maybe tricking him into giving you a break? You had just the idea, asking him in strangled moans to let you ride it, damn near begging.

Surprisingly- it did work, you were engaging with him instead of fighting against him, Gojo thought to himself as he sat up pulling you on of him. His demeanor seemed a bit more cheerful than deranged like earlier. But now that you've come back to your senses and realized who you're fucking with.. It was time to play along, maybe even reason with him. Once you were on top of him finally able to catch your breath- your fingers interlaced with his, impatient as ever he bucked his hips up into you making you plead with him to wait a second.

*Pant* "Sa- Satoru wait, just a second lemme talk!"

He looked so annoyed, so irritated with you, but way not he'll bite.

"Fine, what more important than me putting this fat cock in your stomach?" Oh that devious look only his face.

"Satoru, you're right, I do wanna get back together, I was just being jealous, Toru- I wanna fix us before we ever consider having a baby, okay? Please?" God he loved the way you pleaded with him, even saying please? Man it made his dick jump, but it also mad him so happy, you wanted to be with him again.

You watched his facial expressions in worry since he hadn't said anything yet. That was until he bucked his hips into you again ... Repeatedly. But at least he had on his usual joyful expression- he seemed happy now. Nothing could ruin it just as long as you were cautious about the things you say or do. There's no use in being petty or angry with him because will always without missing beat show you his crazy.

But you should be glad you don't live in an apartment, because babeh.. The noise complaints y'all would be getting right now, I mean the headboard is literally banging against the wall. Your screams were nothing to talk about either you two were being so loud right now, you were his again and even though he didn't respond to your statement beforehand, his actions would surely speak for him. Like instead of his baby trapping you Gojo pulls out cumming all over your stomach and himself.

"My Girl.. Now how about we try for a baby when you move in with me tomorrow?" He said so cheerfully like it was nothing.

"HUH?!"

Yeah... Gojo Satoru was insane and you're the only person that has EVER seen this side of him. You're stuck with this monster now, but at least his dick is good, right?

Tags: no tags this time we'll see what the algorithm does with this and again do not bother asking me to write more Gojo I literally hate this dude. 💕

[lucysarah-c]

Not in season? Pt. 2

Summary: Winter had settled in, and the scouts were busy training and preparing for the prospects of spring, still far away, to retake Wall Maria. Despite the snow accumulating outside, the building was freezing cold, and the world had secluded itself until the temperature rose. So, why was Captain Levi boiling in his own body? Something felt off, but his mind was quickly slipping into insanity as he tried to find a rational explanation.

Part 1!! Author note:: I've had this idea for so long… Omegaverse is my guilty pleasure, and I decided to treat myself with it. I'm self-conscious about my smut, so… practice makes perfect. That's it. In case I forget any warning or tag, feel free to remind me. Pairing: Levi x fem! reader. Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha Levi Ackerman, Top Levi Ackerman, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mating Bites, Mating Bond, Possessive Levi Ackerman, Possessive Sex, Possessive Behavior, Knotting, Dubious Consent, Rough Sex, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Multiple Orgasms, Smut, Breeding, Forced breeding, Biting, Breeding Kink, dubcon, Unplanned Pregnancy, Pregnancy Kink, Forced Pregnancy, Unsafe Sex, Nurse reader, Alpha Levi x Omega reader, Captain Levi Ackerma, Captain Levi x Nurse Reader, Dirty talk, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Alpha Hange Zoë, Alpha/Omega, Alpha Erwin Smith, Alpha Eren Yeager, Alpha Jean Kirstein, Alpha Mikasa Ackerman. Omegaverse. Word count: 10.8k You had been warned lmao

Tags!: @nmlkys @jimoonbeau @fictiondrunk @notgoodforlife @nube55 @justkon @i-literally-cant-with-this @darkstarlight82 @thoreeo @quillinhand @humanitys-strongest-bamf @levisbrat25 @angelofthorr @aomi04 @s0meb0dy-0nce-t0ld-me @fxnnyackerman @trashblackrainbow @secretmoneybearvoid @b4rb3qu3 @vickybeexd @mindfulsreposts @blueeclipsepaperstudent @vegetasgirl2799 Wanna join my tag list? Here!

Time—time was needed, whether it be a refreshing shower or a bucket of snow from outside the building thrown at him. Anything that could pull any part of his consciousness back to work. As her lips moved and the sounds of her mouth echoed softly, his mind wondered if she was truly awake or if it was unconscious spasms. He sat on the mattress, eyes fixed on her features, waiting, expecting anything. 

Carefully and delicately, he crawled out of bed, like a mother leaving a baby in a room without waking it up. When his feet touched the floor, he almost tripped on something. His eyes surveyed the mess, and he fought every inch of his body not to go on a cleaning rampage. The only reason stopping him? She moved, flexing one leg up for more comfort, and he swore he didn’t mean to stare. His attention moving on its own over her body, focusing on the mating mark—his mating mark—most impressively, his own release between her legs. 

Pulsations in his head, frowning as the pain appeared. That was the reason stopping him from tidying up the room, each breath triggering demands like “one more” and “just one more... to be sure.” He needed to scratch every skin cell with bleach if necessary, with the coldest water and the sharpest brush. Her scent, the aphrodisiac almost cloying aroma her body expelled, clouded his judgment. He picked up the crumpled sheets at the edge of the bed to gently cover her frame. 

So that was exactly what he did—locked the door, turned on the rushing water without waiting for it to warm up, and jumped straight in. Regrets filled his mind; he had never behaved this way before. Alphas unable to control themselves, using heats or ruts as excuses, were something he despised. Perhaps even more than he hated MPs. The consequences were obvious; he had claimed her. Between Alphas and Omegas, a claiming mark was more powerful than any wedding ring. 

‘What if...’ his consciousness brought up once again as he quickly tidied up his appearance. Dark locks swayed as he shook his head forcefully, erasing the thought. ‘We will cross that bridge when we get there.’ Once rational thoughts replaced the arousal haze, anxiety kicked in. It felt loud inside his head, too many worries in such a small period.  He wasn’t sure what was worse at this rate. 

Blessing any existing god out there, his bathroom and the drawers with clothes were tidied up enough to find objects quickly. The dips of his hair dripped water almost everywhere. On other occasions, he would have waited until it dried a bit before anything else, but his mind was clouded with one priority—being in the room when she woke up. The idea of her waking up alone in his twisted sheets and undone bed, feeling used or discarded, was like a stab to his own morality. 

Heavy with water, hair fell into his face. He pushed it backward as his hand ran through his locks while searching for a shirt to wear. A pair of sweatpants was on, and this time, he was wearing underwear—the first garment he put on as the idea of his nudity made him uneasy. The Captain tried to put the uniform on, perhaps to finally go back to work after so many days, but he felt sensitive in places that would probably make him ashamed to confess. Tight white jeans were the last thing he desired right now. 

Gripping the edges of a simple white shirt to push it over his head, turning around and resting on the chest of drawers as he did. Pushing down the fabric, only to find two half-lidded eyes looking at him. Frozen in place, as if he waited for the bullet to pierce through his forehead. Slow blinks as he noticed her trying to gulp, her eyes focusing on him. On other occasions, he might consider how endearing and sexually appealing she looked while sleepily laying on her side, with the sheet sticking to the curve of her waist.  Suddenly, the edge of the sheet was pushed upwards, clinging to her body as she sat down erratically. 

‘Here we go,’ mentally preparing himself. 

“Levi?!” The confusion in her tone, the desperation in her eyes judging him across the room. “What- What happened? What is this?!” 

His lips parted softly as if he gathered what he could possibly answer. Her feet became exposed as she kept tugging on the sheet to cover her body. “Where are my clothes?” 

“I—” Levi murmured, his voice sounding rough and raspy as he hadn’t spoken for a good couple of hours while his eyes searched on the floor for any piece of garment that didn’t belong to him. “I don’t know.” 

“What time is it? What day is it? How—” 

“Look,” one of his hands raised as the other gripped the edge of the furniture behind him, grounding him to reality. “I’ve as much information as you.” 

A hiss of pain pierced through the room as she frowned deeply. Her hands instinctively reaching backward to her nape as the other tightly gripped the sheet against her chest. Confusion palpable in her face as, with drawn-together eyebrows and parted lips, she admired leftover blood in her hand from a wound that was probably repeated over the past few days. 

“You... you marked me?” her voice sounded distant. “But... I’m a beta.” 

Quick was him to add, “Yes, about that,” as if this was the only question on an exam’s sheet that he knew and was eager to answer. “No.” 

Her accusing eyes were back on him, not looking very pleased. “What do you mean? I’m 24 years old, I can’t present now. I’m a beta.” 

“Yeah,” he repeated this time less sure, “No…” 

She scoffed, offended that he doubted her word. “You’re saying you know more than me about myself? Than doctors? Than my own enlistment sheet?” 

Levi clicked his tongue and softly shook his head, “I ain’t no doctor, I’m just stating the shitty facts I got, and those are that alphas can’t claim betas,” his words seemed heavy with the weight of his own thoughts. “And betas don’t trigger a fucking rut of days into me. You got both.” 

His lips pursed together, head tilted downwards, and looking to his right. Being subtle and diplomatic with his words wasn’t what he was known for, and therefore he was trying his best to control his sharp tongue. She seemed obviously confused and scared. Society had certain implicit rules and expectations learned after presentation that Alphas and Omegas learned across the way as they grew. Himself had taught Eren when he presented that the brat couldn’t go around baring teeth and sniffing around if there was an Omega, to get a hold of their instincts. Couldn’t even imagine how it felt to find out about it so late in life. 

“Are you implying this was my fault?” Her eyes appeared reflective, and he hated that. 

“No, that ain’t what I said,” He quickly restored, involuntarily getting defensive. “Look, let’s—” his right hand raised once again trying to get his point across. Now presented, he could perceive her uneasiness in the air. 

“Don’t you dare to tell me to calm down,” the way she spat each word and the anger in her tone caught him off guard. 

His unwillingness to add to the issue made the hand that was reaching out softly switch to the right, pointing to the door as he spoke. “Let’s take a shower,” he rearranged his statement, “I bet the water warmed up already. Why don’t you take a shower while I clean this pigsty?” 

While the uneasiness in the room lingered as the stale air, the hostile undertones seemed to withdraw slowly as her attention focused on the bedroom’s floor, allowing Levi a moment of freedom from her demanding glance. “I— I’ve nothing to wear when I come out.” 

As the soldier he was, ready to break from the shock and jump into the battlefield, it snapped him. Turning around to quickly gather the first pieces of garments he could find and handing them back to her. “There are towels in the bathroom.” 

Y/N grabbed the pile of clothes and carefully put her feet back on the floor as she descended the bed, taking the sheet with her as if it could provide any sort of protection. Once the door was shut close, Levi let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. It hadn’t been easier than he anticipated. In reality, he had anticipated nothing, so her not snapping him across the face was already a win. 

Though he dedicated himself to picking up the remaining food and belongings scattered on the floor, the bitten loaves of bread, now growing mold, made him grimace uneasily and blush slightly in shame. Images of him hastily consuming the food until crawling back to bed played in his mind. Being reduced to such an animalistic state brewed a self-absorbed shame that was hard to explain. Perhaps it felt akin to the last time he had experienced a rut, despite not being with an omega—back in his early to mid-twenties, nearly a decade ago. The closest feeling that mirrored his shame was as if he had regressed to bedwetting or, more accurately, having to wash sheets after a wet dream. While it was natural for alphas to suffer ruts twice a year upon reaching adulthood, the years without them left him feeling wrong. 

Opening the window, he noticed the early morning glow in the sky. Inhaling fresh breaths, he felt a chill like sinking into frozen water. Both the office and bedroom windows were open, creating an airflow. Finally, out of his bedroom, he surveyed his suspiciously tidy office. Despite his hazy state, he seemed to have confined himself to lurking in his bedroom. A thin layer of dust, perceptible only to him, hinted that more days had passed than he anticipated. "There you are," he murmured, his eyes fixed on two pieces of clothing strewn on the floor—a nightgown and a cardigan. Picking them up, he folded them together. 

The sound of the bathroom door's knob opening caught his attention. Instead of leading to the bedroom, she emerged from the entrance that connected to the office. Uncertain, he stood still as her presence appeared again, holding folded bedsheets in her arms. The grey trousers and black turtleneck sweater she wore belonged to him. Their eyes met again; she seemed not to expect this encounter. 

"Uhm... I'm going to my room," she muttered, avoiding eye contact. "Your sheets." 

Levi extended his hand to accept her offer and handed her the folded clothes. He tried to engage the part of his brain responsible for social interaction to come up with an appropriate response. She took her clothes, mumbled a "Thank you," and left. Standing there, looking at the closed door, he felt confused, ashamed, and doubtful. Should he have said something? Done something? Well, in his mind, he had done enough—more than enough. 

‘Perhaps she needs time,’ he tried to rationalize the situation, but the painful short stabs in his body were something he wasn’t used to. His body wasn’t happy that he had let go of his mate, his perhaps pregnant mate. Instincts demanded once again; she may be carrying his offspring, and he just let her go—undefended, unprotected, to God knows where! ‘I know where, to her shitty room,’ he muttered under his breath as he argued against himself. 

Slender fingers scratched the back of his head, searching for mental peace. The growl of his stomach gave him an answer to the roaming question in his mind—what to do now? Search for food, apparently. The coldness of the air coming through the open windows made him shiver; feeling something other than scorching heat was refreshing. The walk of shame down the halls to the higher-ups' kitchen was reduced slightly by the early hours and its lack of people around. Continually sighing while thinking that anything inside the kitchen would be devoured. If it was from anyone else, he would apologize later; right now, he felt as if he had gone out and gotten pissed drunk the night before—overwhelmingly starving. 

“Well well well, look who finally came out from his bunker,” 

Levi did a quick side-eye contact as he bit on a piece of bread with cheese on top while he cooked himself breakfast, unable to wait until the actual meal was finished. Groaning an acknowledging reply to Hange as he had his mouth full. 

“If it wasn’t for the very loud awkward noises that came from your room, I would have declared you dead already,” the mischievous smile was even perceptible in their tone as they wrapped an arm around the man’s shoulders. 

“I’m not in the mood, four eyes,” the captain muttered once he had swallowed the food. 

“Unbelievable, you are the lucky bastard who had been getting laid for almost twelve days straight, and you’re in a bad mood?! Nothing can make you stop being grumpy, isn’t it?” Hange said clearly entertained, but their words made Levi’s eyes sparkle. 

“Twelve days? What day is it?” 

Hange began to chuckle before replying, “18th of November. You owe me one; I had been training your squad and doing your paperwork for two weeks.” 

Uneasy groans of complaint echoed in the small kitchen as he stirred around the eggs with the bacon. His deadly eyes met the other squad leader, “Owe you? You should have kept everyone out of my room! You realize what I’ve just done?” 

Hange raised both of their hands in the air, “Wow wow, slow down! How is this my fault?” Their loud complaints were quick to arrive as Levi muttered bitter replies under his breath, “How was I supposed to know she was an omega? And even if I found out, you would have ripped my arms off just for the sake of mating with her.” 

“Yeah... you’re fucking right, goddamned it,” Levi accepted it resigned. 

“Where's your baby girl?” Hange’s cheeky personality was quick to return. “Making breakfast for your wifey?” 

“Don’t call her that,” Levi spit out, “In her room, she left.” 

It was the squad leader’s time to groan uneasily, “You let your newly presented and bonded mate leave? And you call yourself a high breed Alpha?” 

If it was even possible, Levi frowned more deeply. “What was I supposed to do?” he dragged the words as he muttered them under his breath, putting his breakfast out of the pan. “Kidnap her in my room?” 

Hange, who grabbed a piece of bacon from the plate to eat, owned a tired dead gaze from Levi, only to see him roll his eyes as the squad leader complained about it burning their fingers and being hot while they tried to eat it anyway. “Well,” they chuckled with their mouth full, “You kidnapped her there for twelve days, one more one less wasn’t going to make a difference.” 

The captain tiredly sighed echoed as he grabbed his plate and tugged it away from the other alpha before they devoured it all. Carefully putting the dishes in a tray with a tea set for the rest of the morning, ready to find solitude in his chambers again. 

“By the way,” Hange added again, “When do you think the due date is? Erwin and I have a bet on who is going to be cool uncle.” 

Levi stopped midway as he was about to leave the kitchen, raising an eyebrow as he turned to face the brunette. “Why the hell were you and Eyebrows talking about that shit?” 

The other alpha simply shrugged and then commented, entertained, “It was hard not to talk about it. You two weren’t particularly hush about it, you know? We’re entitled to talk about it after enduring almost two weeks of hearing you two mate like wild animals.” 

Uneasy groans mixed with his ashamed grimace at the mere thought. It didn’t help that the titan lover kept going, “You know, we both concluded that we can’t believe we thought of her as a beta.” Their comment, made with the same unbothered attitude as Hange was known for rambling about topics, didn’t match with Levi's shift in attitude. First, the confusion surpassed his previous shame, only to then demand an explanation with his fierce, sharp eyes. Hange began to chuckle nervously as they thought that, perhaps, they shouldn’t have said that. “Well... you know...” they muttered, feeling the short man’s anger, “… it’s impossible that was a beta’s ass.” 

Two alphas, closed in a room talking about his omega’s ass. It’s the best ass in the walls, don’t get him wrong, but he’s the only one allowed to make that observation... at least publicly. 

“Ugh,” Hange complained loudly as they walked down a hall. 

Erwin looked at the squad leader confused and highlighted, “I saw Levi’s window open; he’s finally out?” then added, “Are you alright?” 

“Levi kicked me,” they replied as they caressed their butt. 

Shaking his head slightly and sighing as if he were dealing with children, “I told you not to tell him anything weird while he still had a cocktail of hormones inside him,” the commander simply reproached them. 

The thud of the forehead impacting with the harsh oak wood of the desk, the deep breath that came out as a scoff, fogging up the surface, the subtle sleet hitting the windows’ glass behind before turning into snow once again, dark locks tangling as they fell forward graciously, and the clock in the office announcing it was almost midnight. ‘I survived.’ Those felt like accurate words despite his line of work; his body felt as if he had been grabbed by a titan and snapped against those big trees. His body felt in better shape when he came back from an expedition, and he wasn’t lying. Not even the best intentions and the hardest mental strength could force him to go to training with his squad; the kids had been annoyingly supportive of hearing him feel better from his “cold.” 

The muscles of his legs twitched involuntarily, and the muscles of his body felt like jelly; his brain fogged with tiredness. Blaming it completely on the drop in hormones that forced him to be on top of his game, now he felt as if he was suffering withdrawal. Any mix of substances that his body produced in excess during his rut to secure the stamina to endure the mating, the strength and sharpness to be ready to fight for his breeding right, and also to protect him and his mate during the period the pheromones could have driven someone into their nest had fulfilled its role. Now, without them and the tiredness of the aftermath of forcing his body into them, it had left him feeling as if someone had smashed all his bones. Adding to that, his instincts didn’t cease to remind him to stay close to his mate, whom he hadn’t seen all day. In normal situations, newly mated couples would have nested until both felt back to their usual selves and, more importantly, until the claiming mark settled and marked forever their bond. 

If he had three surviving brain cells after everything, two were completely dedicated to reminding him that whatever they should be doing as mates, he simply wasn’t doing it. Gritting his teeth as his instincts having power over him was starting to drive him nuts. It’s not that he didn’t want to talk to her, but he also wished to respect her space. Tired eyes, half-lidded, looked through his dark and dense eyelashes as he checked the clock after it began to announce midnight. The only few times he had left his chambers to pick up and deliver paperwork and during meals to check on his squad, he hadn’t seen her. And from what he subtly asked, nobody else had either. 

This anxiety and uncertainty in him weren’t normal; he was usually decisive. The tip of the fountain pen hit against the paper, leaving little dots as he pondered the idea of checking on her, trying to decipher if it was his instincts talking or actual rational thoughts. 

“Fuck it,” 

White rice with butter and cheese in a bowl, carried on a tray, sliced apples, chamomile tea. Were the rumors true that omegas felt nauseous during post-mating syndrome? He wasn't sure, but he wasn't going to take risks. Had he overdone it? His anxiety replied positively. His lack of security wasn't something he enjoyed, and his knuckles hesitated to knock on the infirmary's door that led to her personal chambers inside. Forcing himself, one, two, three knocks resounded too much for his liking in the middle of the night. 

Time seemed to move slowly, and he seriously considered leaving the food there. Then the door creaked, and her tired eyes observed him from the gap. 

"I-Uh... I brought you some supper," Levi mentioned, slightly raising the tray as if the metal piece with food on top wasn't enough indication. 

The heavy dark circles under her eyes, the reflection in them, and her uneven look. She had seen better days; they had seen better days. Her silence gnawed at his sanity, and he seriously considered that interacting was easier when they were both intoxicated with their own hormones. Plus, his awkwardness and lack of social skills made him conclude that, perhaps, his body was right, and the only way he could engage in producing offspring was clouding his judgment completely. 

"Everything smells very strong, makes me nauseous," her voice, subtle as the flight of a moth in the middle of the night, murmured as her hands gripped the edge of the door, resting her face and weight on it. "It's very overwhelming." 

Levi readjusted his weight to the other leg and gave it a thought. "It's natural; you'll get used to it," he replied shortly, "and learn to kinda switch off your brain to not pay attention to every piece of nonsense." 

He, for example, could perceive it all. She was like an open book, her distress, confusion, and now subtle tints of happiness that he tried to attribute to her body reacting positively to the proximity of him as her mate. It was, in a sense, a bit endearing how she wasn't able to control her pheromones yet. 

Y/N's soft chuckles caught his attention as the air turned sweet, and she smiled softly. "You know a lot," she replied. Unconsciously, it boosted his pride; her body reacted positively and relaxed in his presence. 

"I presented when I was 11, an early bloomer. I remember wanting to rip off my shitty nose from my face," his comment made her chuckle again, and it made him wish he had something else to say to earn another smile. 

She let the door adorned with a small brass plaque that simply read "Infirmary" slide open and stepped to a side as a subtle indication he was welcome in. Levi had been there too many times, none of them for himself but usually because Jean and Eren fought again. As one entered, the scent of antiseptic greeted them, mingling with the faint aroma of old wood and polished linoleum floors and hers that it took all his willpower to fight against. If his body was trying to return to its normal working system, her uncontrolled liberation of pheromones was like a punch in the gut that he tried to hide. 

The walls were painted in a soothing, muted colour to create an illusion of calmness, while the tall, narrow windows allowed slivers of nightlight to filter through dusty curtains. Rows of narrow iron beds lined the room, each neatly made with crisp white sheets and thin, worn blankets. A wooden cabinet filled with basic medical supplies, from bandages to cough syrup, occupied one corner, its glass doors revealing caramel bottles with remedies. 

A small desk in the corner held a register where ailments and treatments were meticulously recorded with pen and ink. A single, dim lamp illuminated the desk, casting a pool of light in an otherwise subdued room. One small door that mimetite with the walls, led to her personal chambers. They were very similar to his, slightly smaller and with a small round table probably to fill up the lack of an office. And, of course, a bathroom with two doors, one leading to the infirmary and another to her room. He left the tray on the table, and his eyes did a quick check on her room, mostly out of curiosity. 

It was tidy, not to his standards but nice. The bed was made, and the sort of femininity that the place radiated made him giggle or nervous from inside. Perhaps it was the crochet table runner, the bed's scarf, the small pots with plants on the window frame, the body lotions next to the bed. The attention to details that he, despite living in his own space for longer, hadn't thought of buying, and she had insisted on making the place her own despite the lugged bags still being around as she hadn't been done unpacking yet. It all made him wonder when the last time had been he had been at a woman's place; the life in the scouts really makes nights lonely. 

Not wanting to overstay his visit, he was ready to leave. But as she sat down on her small table, her hand reached out to grip his forearm and look up to him. "Stay; it makes my mind so calm and quiet when you're around," she said without any restrictions. 

"It's the bond," Levi murmured, but he sat down anyway. Trying to disguise how mentally peaceful himself was now that they were close, his possessiveness of "what if there's another alpha around when I'm not there? What if she lets another alpha claim her to change the mark when it's still too fresh?" quickly subsided. 

She took quiet and slow spoon feed portions of the rice, and he tried to glue his eyes on anything else to not make her feel observed while eating. Her loud tired sighs filled the extremely uncomfortable silence, "you know... my life was way easier when I was a beta." 

Levi hummed in appreciation, "I bet," he added without much to say. 

"It's a very weird feeling, bittersweet perhaps," Y/N murmured while she slowly ate. She chuckled softly, as if she remembered something funny. "I had this very silly crush on you since I joined, and you helped me clean the infirmary. I accepted that we would only be friends because," she stopped, and he looked at her, shocked. "Well, because you're a high-breed alpha-" 

"I've never actually cared about those shits, not like I'm some banker's brat that needs to secure an heir," Levi quickly added, interrupting her. 

"Huh?" Her face turned to the left to look at him as his statement made no sense, raising an eyebrow in confusion. 

Words weren't his strength, so he decided to spit out anything in his brain. "That I didn't care you were a beta." 

"Are you implying you had been flirting with me before this?" 

He scratched the back of his head and murmured slightly offended, "Yeah, for the past two months. Thank you for finally noticing." 

Despite his soft words, she remained confused “That was you flirting?” 

Levi scoffed, offended. "Fucking excuse me, usually, we flirt with scents and mark territory — both things you didn't notice until now." 

Perhaps then, pieces fell into place, the sense of calmness she experienced each time they had tea at his place. The subtle citrus, lavender-scented with a musky undertone had always been him, trying to convey his intentions in the only way he knew how. Or, maybe, all the opposites—his body reacting on its own, even at the prospect of her being a beta, trying to provide a sense of protection and calmness to the place, showing his willingness to a potential mate. 

The only reply he got was a few shallows, quiet chuckles before she continued eating a little longer, a soft smile on her features. "And the bittersweet part?" Levi insisted, picking up where she had left off. 

"Oh," her memory recalled her comment, and she blushed heavily. "Well... apparently mating with an alpha is harder than being stepped on by a horde of Titans," she explained, grimacing uneasily. "I've bruises everywhere, and I can barely move." 

"I usually behave more... I'm not particularly vanilla, but I'm a bit more civilized." As the air lightened slightly, and it felt as if both were finally addressing the elephant in the room, Levi tried to force himself to be a bit more talkative. "If it makes you feel better, I feel like shit too." 

"You? What could you possibly be hurting from?" 

"I would like to see you topping for twelve days straight," Levi snorted back, his pride hurt that she wasn't taking his part of the job seriously. 

"Fair, fair." Giving in just for the sake of it, she picked up a slice of the red apple and ate it casually. "You know..." she thought of commenting but then, "nevermind." 

"What? Just spit it out," Levi's harsh nature stepped in, especially insisting as he observed her face turn red. 

"I was just thinking that... Maybe this explains why," her voice grew hushed and embarrassed, "I always felt like something was lacking with my beta ex." 

An entertained scoff left his lips, mixed with a cocky side smirk. He felt as if his inner alpha was kicking out of happiness. Alphas are competitive, possessive, and jealous creatures by nature; they may even feel jealous of the pillow their omega hugs while asleep. Being delighted with the idea that there’s no other that could provide the strength they show while mating is like a big pat on their back. 

Levi didn’t want to press the matter too much, letting her come and talk things out at her own pace. Her brows drew together as she felt the pain pulsing again, her hand reaching backward to softly caress the mark on her neck. “This hurts horrendously,” she admitted through clenched teeth, “I put numbing cream and-” 

“Don’t put anything on it,” Levi quickly interrupted. “Your body may react more because it feels that you may be trying to reject it.” 

Her eyes opened, locked into his, the frown still present. “Was biting me this hard so absolutely necessary?” 

“If I had any power over my actions during a rut, do you think we would be in this situation? Where there is a high chance, I got you knocked up?” 

Levi’s words pierced the night like a cannonball does from the top of the walls to a titan’s neck; she looked at him uneasy and confused. Nobody dared to even whisper; not even the sound of a mouse was perceived. Her expression of anger softly switched, as she averted his gaze looking in another direction. Maybe she preferred not to think about it, but Levi has always been a man that faced reality as it was given to him. 

“Maybe...” she started to suggest, breathing deeply. “Maybe it didn’t take,” 

Levi slightly contorted uneasily, taking a subtle deep breath to steady himself. “What?” her ignorance in certain dynamics was something he had to constantly remind himself. He knew she didn’t do it with harm, “I just came out of a two-week rut, my body has more hormones at the moment than a fifteen-year-old brat... try not to say straight in my face that I didn’t breed you properly because you’re only triggering another round on me.” 

“I’m just saying that I know that some low-breed omegas can’t get pregnant by high-breeds that easily. “ She insisted, giving it a rational thought “Maybe the reason I didn’t present is that I’m closer to a beta than an omega by being low breed.” 

While her explanation seemed logical in her mind, Levi heard her with a deadpan expression. “Didn’t you hear me? Two shitty weeks, no fuckin’ way you’re low-breed.” 

Perhaps that had been the consolation she had been running with the entire day, and the weight of the matter began to hang on her heavier than before, which didn’t help Levi to feel less concerned and uneasy. Her attention lost somewhere, and for once, Levi wished he could be subtle and charismatic, perhaps to have something to say. The confession she had made a few minutes ago held in Levi’s mind longer than he liked to admit, and he tried to wrap himself around it to initiate his response, waiting first for a bit for her to add anything else. 

“Ehm-” he cleared his throat as he drew attention back to him, sat down around her small round table in the corner of her room, “maybe we jumped a bunch of shitty steps in the dating process or whatever, but I don’t mind trying to make it work if you want.” 

His right hand dubiously reached out thinking of creating physical contact for comfort. First reaching for her left thigh but reconsidering deeply, while pressing his lips together, he moved it upwards to her forearm and gave it a gentle squeeze. “And I’ll back you up in any decision you take about it if it turns out you’re knocked up.” 

Her drained voice, perhaps due to tiredness or fear, whispered, “Really?” 

“Huh?” Levi seemed slightly confused, “well, we are already bonded, so at least we could give it a try...” 

“No, I mean the other. You really don’t mind anything?” her voice was barely above a whisper. 

The washed-out memory of his own mother popped into his mind for a brief second before replying seriously and with no doubt on his face, "Well... I won’t be the one pregnant for nine months and neither the one who is going to be giving birth, so what I prefer doesn’t really matter," Levi said unfazed. "And I know I’m not a fucking sunshine, but I’m not that shitty to get you knocked up and leave you to face it alone." 

While nothing was written in stone, and the consequences of it were still too soon to be sure, there was a soft sense of tranquillity that washed over her. A soft smile cracked on her face. "Thank you," she murmured. 

At the beginning, it felt conflicting going back as if nothing had happened. Drinking tea at his office while both worked on their respective paperwork, nobody wanted to press the matter further. Though Levi would hear whispering gossip between his own squad, the Captain tried his best to let her process what had happened and allow himself to do it. 

Keeping the scouts under strict rules of not letting it escalate was easy; a death glance from Humanity’s strongest soldier was enough to make all the curious cadet and squad leaders keep themselves in line. Humanity’s strongest soldier, that’s who Levi was. "Worth an entire army," whispers as the scouts pass by, the only one that people recognized enough for those "Wanted" posters while they were fighting the uprising a few months ago. The person people put their dreams and hopes in now that they were planning the retake of Wall Maria. 

"MH..." hummed sounds echoed in her throat as her delighted eyes admired the pastries in the showcase. Levi has taken his squad to pick up groceries downtown, and she had insisted on going, breathing some fresh air and sending medical reports. "I’m really craving something sweet," it was more of an inner monologue than something meant to be answered. 

Though her eyes full of desire caught Levi's attention as he was waiting for the provisions given to him, analyzing it with second thoughts. But he wasn’t the only one with curious eyes; the baker admired the scene behind the counter. The madam was an omega, and, while her years of fertility may have already passed, she had been involved in too many dynamics and had enough kids behind her to spot a freshly mated couple from a mile. 

"Ah! The hazelnuts one, please!" Y/N had finally made up her mind on her little treat, pointing with her finger across the glass at the small cake. The old woman nodded in agreement. Another coworker was putting the big flour white bags on the rustic cart they had brought to take the provisions as Levi supervised both. When the baker was handling the smaller purchase, Y/N was about to handle her payment, but Levi was quick to offer the money first with the military coupons for the food provisions. 

"Hey," she looked at him complaining but not completely mad. "It’s mine; I’m paying." 

Levi clicked his tongue, "Don’t be stupid," he insisted and grabbed the paper bag to hand to her. While he didn’t reciprocate the soft pouting, she did at him, the shop owner simply took his food coupons and smiled as she regretted the money. 

"It’s on the house," she quickly added, and Y/N checked the inside of the bag, and there were also extra treats and cookies. Levi didn’t seem convinced about it, but the old woman, with her white apron covering most of her dress and her hair out of the way, smiled interestedly and asked, "When is the due date?" 

Older women and their audacity; colours quickly dropped from both, only to raise back harder as blood rushed to their cheeks. 

"Ehm, it’s too soon yet," Levi quickly added, trying to smooth out the situation, shortly spitting out the answer. 

The surprised gasp, and then "Oh, I thought... well, it’s hard to tell with all the layers during winter," she insisted. Y/N smiled awkwardly, as, after receiving the gift, she didn’t want to just leave. "So, is it recent?" 

Levi’s eyes did quick checks on the cart, praying it would get all the provisions faster so he could slip himself from this social situation, "Yeah," he groaned out. 

"Weird... it’s not mating season," she commented, pointing out something that Levi had probably seen coming; he had to hold back a sigh. 

"Yes, well, thank you very much," he replied faster as he noticed the cart was loaded, and he was more than ready to leave. Y/N thanked back too, gathering any left in her to give a sort of friendly grimace before walking away with him. 

The uncomfortable silence as they walked across the rest of the shops, Levi’s squad taking care of different tasks, and some of them even shopping for themselves. "How?" she began to question unsure while adjusting her scarf that covered the mating mark. 

"The scent," Levi quickly replied, already knowing where the conversation was going. "I come here very often; she probably noticed the change, and you smelling as a mated omega put two and two together." 

Humming a mix between an understanding but confused reply, she wrapped herself better in her coat as the weather was still very harsh. "I still get confused about the aromas thing," the nurse confessed. "Sometimes it feels like teenagers get it better than me." There was a sort of defeat with shame in her tone. 

"When you’re mated, you can say that you stink less. After all, there’s no point in dragging attention any further," Levi explained. "Think of it as getting a cheap, shitty perfume; you still smell like you, but less intense." 

Her attention was drawn to her left as he explained it out for her, both resting on the edge of the cart as they waited. Blaming the cold on her cheeks, softly blushing as she smiled at his understanding. After this, she was thankful that her trips to the downtown were very scarce because the rumor spread faster than any winter flu. Levi could barely walk down without getting congratulations, presents, cheerful words from older women and young mothers. Some gifted him wood for the baby, treats for his mate, the proud pats of older alphas telling him that "good for him, it was time already for getting a proper mate." 

Even the Reeves sent him meat under the excuse that "pregnant women need more iron." His face always tried to hide the unpleasant social moments that came with this, but Hange insisted that he was not nailing at faking being happy about the public celebrations. 'It’s too soon,' he would insist, but 'you’re a high breed and so is she, both young, everybody is sure it will take.' 

"Perhaps it’s bad timing," Erwin commented, trying to hold back a mischievous smirk. "But Nile and Zackary send their congratulations." Levi dedicated his beast dead glance across the office as they were in a meeting. Hange didn’t even try to hold back a loud laugh while Erwin tried his best not to chuckle in the captain’s face. "Don’t look at me like that; I didn’t tell them... they found out on their own." 

Fingers doing pressure on the bridge of his wrinkled nose, "Fuck me," he cursed under his breath. It’s not that he wasn’t "sure"; it had been almost two months, and she hadn’t come to him with any "news," which meant that any passing day was more of a confirmation than a negative. She seemed reluctant even to mention the topic, and since both seemed to be improving the quality time together, Levi didn’t want to risk asking too much. But the uncertainty was starting to grow on him. It didn’t help that her pheromones sometimes gave him clues when they were alone that she was interested in perhaps moving a bit further than just sharing teatime together. His scent quickly matched, giving away that he was more than willing to get tangled in bed once again, this time both consciously. 

But... she never noticed, never made a move, and after what happened, he wanted her to take the lead. 'It’s her body reacting,' he reminded himself, which was both arousing to know her deeper instincts wanted him, cute that she couldn’t control it yet, and frustrating to know that it wasn’t voluntary. He wasn’t sure if it was because he had never been mated before, obviously, and being around his mate triggered it more. If he had gone so many years without it that after getting laid again, he started to crave it more. But he felt the necessity. 

So, there she was, sat down on his desk, legs swinging as she ranted about how her day visiting her friends had been. Until the unsure clearing of her throat caught his attention again from paperwork. "I was... wondering if perhaps you could spare me a couple of clothes?" 

That had definitely caught him off guard. "My friends from my nurse’s hostel, most of them are omegas, so they almost threw me a welcome party," Levi hummed understanding, wanting to know where this was going. "They mentioned that perhaps my insomnia may be due to... nesting? That my body feels uneasy, and perhaps having my mate’s scent would help? Sounds very stupid, I know-" 

"Sure," he quickly agreed and blessed his well-known stoic face to hide his disappointment. His own mate preferred a bunch of scented clothes over being with him; his inner instincts were kicking in anger, almost throwing a tantrum in the floor of his mind like a spoiled brat. Being rejected by your bond is not something alphas took easily, and he had to clench his teeth holding back the imperious necessity to mark territory again. He was better than behaving like a wild animal, he knew but yet. 

"Give me a minute to finish this report," he replied between clenched teeth. 

"Expedition Wall Maria?" She asked, somehow trying to keep the conversation alive. He hummed positively. "How are the preparations going?" she insisted, pushing the topic further. 

"Good." 

Her lips pressed together; her eyes never left the back of his head as he curved over his desk to write endless reports. Then, "You’re going to come back, right?" pierced the room, followed by "...you’re not leaving me to deal with this alone, right?" 

The pen stopped moving as his fingers left it to rest after it had run out of ink, his back straightened up to look over to her as she remained seated on the edge of the desk, the desk where he had undressed her. Coral light filtering through the window’s glass landing on her. The training was over only an hour ago, and he tried to advance paperwork before dinner. It was still early, and the bustling of the building hadn’t ceased yet. Despite it all, Levi felt as if the silence was overwhelmingly loud. 

The doubt in her eyes was almost tangible; therefore, he said the only thing that crossed his mind. "I’ll come back walking if I have to." 

Fast short scoff as her cheeks raised in a tender smile, Levi was tempted to push the idea further. He took it as a confirmation somehow and wanted to know it all, at least what she knew so far. But before he knew it, she was descending from his desk, and the intentions of leaving the place were written all over her face. 

"Let me finish this, and I’ll give you the shirts," Levi insisted, the disappointment on his face was hard to disguise until her hand grabbed his armrest for support, one leg then the other. It was so simple, but his legs tilted sideways, and he could feel how his blood dropped to pump downwards as she sat down on his lap. Instinctively tilting his leg outward, making space, parting legs. 

The scent passing thought his nostrils, soaking in his brain, making him be aware of his fangs before he could notice. It wasn’t like a heat, of course, not but inviting enough. Receiprocating almost immediately, on full will and not so much too, seeing how with each breath her cheeks blushed more and her eyes turned transparent. Ass on his knees, making him wish she had moved forward directly over his bulge, to feel the sweet pressure of her body over his dick.  

"I don’t think I want the shirts..." She murmured, somehow quickly breathless, as her right hand reached forward to cup his face, “I’ve one and it doesn’t smell like you,” her eyes turning transparent as the pheromones sank in, remembering the clothes he had borrowed her the morning after “You smell divine,” 

His hands moved instinctively, quickly rubbing her sides lightly, cupping her hips before gripping and try to push her closer, “How is this fucking fair?” he said hoarsely, trying to keep his voice level despite the fire raging through his veins “You had my clothes and I was here, like a teenager trying to recall how your slippery cunt milked me dry,” 

The shock ways shivering down both of them, forcing a soft gasp out of her parted lips as Levi buried his face on the crook of her neck, feeling his mating mark. Recalling with pleasure it had been him who had claimed her, she was all his and nobody else. Shameless tongue running through the mark with closed eyes and scoff of aphrodisiac reassurance, he could feel the pheromones in her skin. Both bodies reacting to each other as if they were made for this. Her hand gripping his dark locks as her neck suffered the attack. 

Softly rocking between his parted legs, she could feel the outline of his hardening cock almost painfully twitching against the white trousers of the uniform. Crumping upwards the skirt but a strong push of her hand against his chest got him resting on the desk’s chair. Dusted cheeks, sassy smirk, her neck glistering under the tangerine light of the afternoon, “I want to suck you, Captain,” 

He couldn’t make his mind in which he liked more, the memory of her in-drunk state of pure heat’s submission, becoming a pliant hole for him to fuck rough or her assertive cock drunk self. But he couldn’t mind it less as her hand palmed the front of his trousers before grasping his length to start to pump it through the fabric. She straddled Levi, hand on his shoulders before kissing him desperately, Levi kissed her back forcefully.  

The early afternoon had turned excided as one of his hands gripped the back of her neck to kiss her deeply, hips gridding against each other. His hand kneeling her ass through the uniform dress with content. Head switching to the sides as he pried her mouth open, saliva dripping to the sides. The sound her lips parting echoed in the office, and he couldn’t help but smirk at the view of her reddish pumped lips. A low growl rumbled in his chest as he imagined her on her knees, those full lips wrapped around him. 

His hands tightened around her ass cheeks, before giving it a good smack that made her jump slightly in his lap. Loud gasp as he pulls her closer and he leaned towards her ear again “Eager for it, huh?” 

“Mhh-” Nodding enthusiastic while humming positively. 

“Good girl,” Levi smirked, caressing her ass once more, squeezing it tightly before slapping it again. Burning sensation crossing though her body only to feel it tingling with the afterglow heating sensation of the hit, “On your knees. Suck me dry, baby girl,”  

Straighten up slightly on his seat as she pulled away to get on her knees to unbuckle his belt. Raising slightly to rip his trousers and boxes as down as they could go with the harness on. Uncomfortably staying on the middle of his thighs and Levi quickly concluded that whoever designed the military uniform didn’t get laid frequently or, at least, they weren’t thinking in getting fuck on their desk’s chair. Exposing his hardened cock fully, it stood erect and throbbing as the tip glistered with pre cum. On top of his balls, the base was slightly engorged as it prepared for the knotting at the correct time. 

Half lidded eyes admiring as she hovered with her forearms on each side of his legs to softly, almost ghostly, run the tip of her tongue through his thick, pale shalf. The action alone, the teasing, made him want to thrust forward and leak precum thought the tip. Big eyes looking up to him through her eyelashes. Smirking playfully as she collected the dropping with her tongue, only to then roll down the foreskin, revealing the tip to wrap her lips around the darkened head and suck directly from the exposed slit. 

His hands gripped the chenille of the chair tightly, his knuckles turning white as he tried to keep himself from thrusting into her mouth. Clenching his teeth as she kept teasing him, giving subtle little kitty licks to the sides, sucking directly from the tip without going down. Barely toughing him. 

“Fuck,” Levi cursed as he could feel the smirk on her lips, moving up again to the head. His hands gripped her head firmly, guiding her towards his aching member. "Suck me," he growled hoarsely, his voice filled with hunger and desire. Forcefully pushing her downwards this time, feeling the vibrations of her complain around his cock. 

“There you go,” Levi groaned. Her lips wrapped around his cock, sucking hungrily on it as she continued to stroke him firmly. Slender fingers ran up and down around her hair before make shifting a ponytail to keep the hairs out of her face, admiring the view better. Her reddish lips, struggling around his cock, watery eyes as she tried to take a bit more each time she went down, the hollowing of her cheeks, the velvety sensation of her tongue against the pulsating vein of his cock each time she bobbed upwards. Delicate hands gripping the side of his thighs for support as she began to bob her head with favour. Her hand continued to stroke him rhythmically, matching the pace of her mouth movements. 

“Fuck,” Levi's eyes rolled back in ecstasy as she took him deep, her warm, wet mouth engulfing his entire length. His hand tightened in her hair, holding her head firmly as he began to thrust into her throat, fucking her face roughly.  

"That's it, girly," he praised, his voice hoarse with desire. His mind kept reminding him he should have got his sooner, remind her who was his alpha and get it. Fucking her throat roughly, his hips bucked wildly, each powerful thrust pushing deeper into her throat. Her hands dropped to his legs, fingers digging into his thighs for balance, hearing her struggle to take him all in. 

“MHH!” Her chocking sounds mixed with the whines as he kept forcing her head all the way down, the saliva dripping through her mouth corners. As she deep throated him, gagging, Levi's grip on her hair tightened, pulling her head down harder against his member. His mind kept reminding him he should have gotten a mate sooner, priving himself from this was unhuman. To have an omega, to fuck her silly, to enjoy the tightest warmest cock-drunk cunt each time he wanted. Submissive pretty little thing, to mount and breed at least once per year. 

“What’s the matter? Not used to the thick fat cock of an alpha?” the smirk on his face could almost be heard through the pants that left his lips, “Don’t worry,” he mocked with faked condescending, “I’ll teach you how to be a proper omega,” 

Half lidded eyes looking back at him as she sobbed while letting Levi use her mouth, droll dripping down her chin. 

The feeling of her throat contracting around his length was unlike anything else he had ever experienced, sending waves of pleasure coursing through his body. His hips bucked wildly, thrusting harder and faster, his balls slapping against her chin as she continued to suckle hungrily. 

"That's it," he growled, his voice low and husky. Her moans turned into high-pitched whimpers, mixed with the wet sounds of her mouth working over his cock. “That’s my good girl,” he praised before finally pulling her head off with a loud pop. Quickly she crawled into his lap, straddling him. 

His fingers unbuttoned the front of her uniform, yanked down the sleeves to a side so he could have direct access to her chest. His fingers traced the delicate curves of her breasts through the fabric, feeling her nipples harden under his touch. He leaned forward, capturing one of them between his lips, sucking greedily as his hand cupped her other breast, kneading it roughly. 

“Ahh- Levi!” her soft moans echoing in the room mixing with the tale-tell of his lips licking her bud. His tongue circled her nipple, teasing it before finally taking it into his mouth, suckling on it hungrily through the fabric. The inner part of her breast turning a dark shade as he sucked the valley of her chest. Meanwhile, Levi’s freehand moved to gather her skirt to her waist.  

Levi's hands grabbed her ass, squeezing and kneading it roughly, his fingers digging into the soft flesh beneath her skirt. He couldn't resist the urge to taste her again, suckling greedily on her nipple as he thrust his hips upwards, grinding their bodies together. His tongue continued to tease and suck on her nipple, alternating between gentle flicks of his tongue against the sensitive bud and deep, forceful sucks that left marks on her skin. His hips rocked rhythmically beneath her, grinding their crotches together, seeking more contact. But it wasn't enough. He needed to feel her wetness, to know for certain how much she wanted him. 

As soon as his fingers brushed against her entrance, she let out a soft cry, arching her back into his touch. Her hips bucked subtly against his hand, inviting him deeper inside her. And so, without any further hesitation and incapable of waiting any more, Levi pushed her underwear to a side and slid two fingers into her core, moaning softly at the slick warmth enveloping him. 

"So fucking tight," he groaned, his voice hoarse with desire. His thumb rubbed against her clit, circling it in a slow, deliberate motion. "You were made for this," then he insisted, “You got it all fucking wrong, you’ve always been made for this. To cramp down my fat knot,” 

Levi couldn't help but feel a surge of pride as he heard Y/N’s soft mewls, her body responding eagerly to his touch clinging to his fingers like a vice. "You like that?" he murmured; his voice thick with desire. "You want more? You want me to breed you again?"  

"Mh," she moaned, arching her back further as his fingers delved deeper. Her hands gripped his shoulders, holding herself steady as waves of pleasure washed over her. "Fuck yes..." 

Hair falling backwards as she arched over him, continuing to fuck herself on his fingers, Levi could feel the tension building within him. He wanted more—needed to be inside her, feeling her tight heat surround him completely. But there was something else driving him, too—something primal and possessive that made him crave the act of mark her as his own, to make sure everyone knew she belonged to him. 

“Yes! Ah- Yes, Levi!” Y/N mewled pleasantly, milking the digits. 

It was a strange feeling for him, this possessiveness over another person—but at the same time, it felt right. Like something he had been missing all these years without even realizing it. 

"Wanna get my knot again? Mh?" He chuckled darkly, almost coaxing a confession out of her. "I'll fucking remind you how I got you knocked up," he promised. Her body clenched around his fingers, a silent plea for more, and Levi didn't disappoint. 

"Tell me," He growled, his voice low and husky. "Admit it, you want my knot inside you." 

As if she had been waiting for this moment, Y/N’s eyes locked with his, filled with a mix of lust and submission. "Yes... I need it... give it to me..." 

"That's my girl," he growled, his voice low and gravelly. "Take every inch of me, just like your tight little cunt was made for this." 

He pulled his fingers out of her, savouring the sound of her whimpering protest. His hand reached down between their bodies, grasping his own painfully hard cock, which was now leaking copious amounts of precum onto his stomach. With one swift motion, he positioned himself at her entrance, lining up his head with her tight hole. Her hand gripped his shoulder and slowly sunk on it. 

As Levi felt himself sliding into her tight heat, he groaned in pure bliss. Her walls squeezed around him, milking every inch of his length as she slowly lowered herself onto him. His fangs ached with the need to claim her again, but he resisted the urge for now. 

“N-Ngh,” she mewled, “Ah, so big,”. He had just put it in, and she could feel the head of his cock already prodding her cervix. The fullness and tug of her own body trying to fit him all in was aphrodisiacal, if it wasn’t that they were already bonded, she would have promised to never fuck a beta again. Levi’s dick was so impossible thick, it didn’t help that he pressed a hand on her belly to feel himself there. To feel himself filling her up to the brim as she wiggled her way down to be fully seated.  

His hands gripped her hips tightly, helping her to ease up and down his cock as he fucked her roughly, their bodies slapping together noisily. The scent of her arousal filled his nostrils, making his fangs ache with the need to mark her again. She was riding him as her life depended on it, mouth hanging open, drooling as her eyes rolled backwards each time his cock plugged all the way in, hitting all the good spots. 

"Fuck," Levi hissed, gasping softly as he admired with delight her well-fucked face. He could hear the wet sounds of their bodies coming together, see the glistening sweat on her skin as she moved against him. 

"Fucking— Shit," he growled breathless, thrusting harder into her depths. "You like that? You love swallowing my cock?” 

“YES! Ah- yes!” shamelessly moaning as she sat down completely, gyrating her hips before going back to bounce. 

Momentarily closing his eyes, pushing his head against the back of the seat as he felt his cock squeezed, sucking him in the best cunt he had ever had. “God- Yes, keep going,” he urged. Levi could feel it all the base of his cock inflate, her slick dripping down his balls. He gripped her hips tighter, pulling her ass cheeks apart for better access to her hole. His breath came out in ragged gasps, his voice interrupted for heavy inhales and satisfied groans. 

“Fu-fuck, enjoying that dick?” Levi growled satisfied; his voice weakened with desperation. 

Positive mewls vibrated on her throat as he thrusted upwards hard enough to make her wince each time. 

"You're mine," Levi growled, his voice hoarse with desire. "Mine to claim and fuck whenever I want." His hips bucked harder, driving deeper into her tight channel, hitting all her good spots mercilessly. 

The sound of their bodies slapping together filled the room, creating a rhythmic beat that matched their shared heartbeats. Sweat dripped down both of them, mixing on their skin in a sticky mess. He could feel himself nearing climax, his balls tightening up as he prepared to release inside her. 

"Cum for me, Y/N," he commanded, his voice rough with need. "Let go and let me fill you up again." 

She let out everything shamelessly; mewls, whims, load moans of his name as she sank down one last time. Using his shoulder to leverage, gripping his uniform jacket with her fist, tugging him closer. Crying in pleasure as she came all over him. Levi gripped her hips harder, pounding upwards with everything he had, chasing his own release. 

“Nng- Ah-” she complained slightly as his swallowed base teased to finally pop inside. Levi gritted his teeth painfully as he kept gridding upwards, trying to finally put his knot. 

Levi couldn't hold back any longer, reaching forward and biting her harshly over his claiming mark once more. Painful gasp left her lips as she twitched over him. With one final powerful thrust, he buried himself to the hilt inside her tight channel, groaning in pure ecstasy as his climax crashed over him once his knot pressed against her entrance and managed to slip in. His cock twitched violently, spurting hot seed deep within her womb, filling her up completely. 

"Ah- yesss!" he cried out, his voice cracking with pleasure. "Fuck, you feel so fucking good." He kept jerking himself against her, pumping in in vain, unable to pull out, as he kept coming. He held onto her hips tightly, thrusting weakly against her even after he had finished, savouring the feel of being buried inside her. His heart pounded against his chest, and he could feel his breath hitching in his throat as the aftermath washed over him. 

Body slacked against the chair, collapsing on it. Hair sticking to each other's face as both panted heavily trying to catch their breath, chest rising and falling rapidly. Her head buried on the crook of his neck. Then she tilted lightly to the right as his hands softly caressed her face, pushing the sticky locks out of her features. She smiled softly with blushed cheeks and half lidded eyes in satisfaction. Leading forward, sharing a couple of sloppy kisses as they came down the peak.  

The once warm light that came through the window had turned coldly as the night slightly slipped in.  He felt exhausted yet satisfied, but an uncomfortable whine followed by a hiss left his lips as he felt her move. “Don’t” he warned her, his hand gripping her hips to hold her in place. His knot still locking them together and his cock twitched in overstimulation. 

Y/N groaned uncomfortable, “How long does this take?” 

“The more you move, the longer it will take,” He said, “Half an hour at least,” 

“I’m hungry,” she complained. 

“Well... that make two of us,” Levi replied. 

[assortedshrift]

Normalized Yandere/Yandereverse au - Twisted Wonderland

Everything is the same except yandere behavior is both common and socially acceptable. It's fine to keep a shrine to your loved ones. Stalking is just a habit some people have. Does your SO occasionally leave marks when you hold hands because of how tight their grip is? That's totally normal.

I'm pretty sure yandere-daydreams did something like this years ago. I don't remember the exact scenario but I think it was like the majority of people had yandere tendencies and the rest are normals trying to survive. 

I’m torn between whether or not there's a huge gap in the Yandere to Darling ratio. On one hand it offers us the chance for a harem scenario but with a bit of danger to keep things fresh. On the other hand there's no way I can rationalize society not crumbling if the Crazies have too much of a majority.

I think true yanderes are in the minority, but they’re a vocal minority who managed to strongly influence modern culture (The Great Seven probably had something to do with this). Due to this people who might have been otherwise normal end up developing yandere tendencies because that's what their society prompts.