#zeke jaeger x you

[mochimooon]

DTF Only (DTF) - zeke jaeger x reader 18+

pairing: Zeke Jaeger x afab! Reader summary: You can't expect every match to want to take you out, but Zeke's more than happy to give you some backdoor action. word count: 4k notes: Part 6 of DTF Only. Zeke is a wee bit scummy here, not too bad. warnings: smut, explicit content, explicit language, mild alcohol consumption, vaginal fingering, anal fingering, anal sex, masturbation ☻ masterpost☻

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 18+ !!

“Hmm…he’s handsome. The beard’s kept neat, could be a sign that he manscapes.”

“That’s what I’m thinking.” You set your phone down and tap the speaker option. 

Ymir, on the contrary is less sure about him. “Are you sure you want this guy to sodomize you?”

Another date tonight, although, you’re not sure if you’d call this an actual date.  

You had gotten a message from Zeke earlier in the week. Unlike the others, he’s older by eight years, and more forward with his intentions. 

I’m a busy man, but on Thursday I can be all yours.  What do you say? You want to be all mine for a night?

You had just agreed to meet up with Reiner that Monday, and because it was further down the week, you confirmed your interest. 

Perfect. I want to be clear again, I’m a busy man.  Casual fun only. 

Of course, this wasn’t a problem. Little did he know that you were only on this Tinder venture to whore yourself out. Before you got a chance to let him know that another message slipped in, and compared to your previous matches, he’s the boldest.

I like to fuck in the ass btw

Well…now that changes everything.  

You’re not even bothered that Zeke didn’t offer to take you anywhere. Despite his age, he’s to the point with zero effort.

You weren’t going to hold that against him. Fine by you, because anal sex was something you’ve been curious to try for a long time. Therefore, it was enough incentive for you to agree to Zeke’s conditions.  

You had purchased a silicone plug a year ago for beginners, even practiced with it a few times. Although you and Colt never had the chance to try anal sex, the plug was mostly forgotten in the depths of your sock drawer.

To prep for tonight, you reacclimated to the toy all day, keeping it tucked in your asshole until you saw Zeke.

“Okay…Ymir…” Pinching the bridge of your nose, you try to bleach that phrase from your mind. “It sounds pervy when you say it like that.”

“Do you have cataracts? He’s the embodiment of pervy."

Pieck chimes in, always a saint to play devil’s advocate. “Just because he’s a little older, doesn’t make him perverse. Unless that’s what our friend wants.” She teases.

“He’s pushing forty, and yet he’s too much of a cheapass to take you on a real date? Sucks for you ladies; men get lazier with age.”

“I already knew what I signed up for,” you say. “Besides, I’ve been out all week. I’m fine skipping to the sheets tonight.”

“Alright, fair enough,” Ymir concedes. “You were already spoiled by Horseface the other night anyways. What time is he picking you up?”

You stand before the mirror, smoothing out your dress, checking the reflection for any creases. “He’s already sent an Uber, it’ll be here in a couple of minutes.”

A sharp laugh rings out of your phone, startling you.

“So, what are you a pizza?” Ymir cackles. “He placed an order for you on Tinder?”

“Ymir…” Pieck sighs, but you’re not deaf to the telltale humor in her tone. “It was your idea that she got on Tinder.”

“I’m just saying.” Ymir manages to stifle her laughter. “This guy is literally zero effort.”

“Well, like you said before, I don’t need to find my next boyfriend there,” you drawl, rushing to get your heels on. “Doesn’t matter. I’m a busy person, and so is he.”

“Sure,” Ymir says. “Well, for your sake, hope that the anal sex is on some cosmic level. Because this man…it’s no wonder he’s still single at his age.”

“I doubt he cares honestly.” You check your phone to read a new message from the man himself. “I got to get going, he said the Uber should be arriving in a minute. You have his address, just in case.”

“Alright, this is it,” Ymir says. “Next time we hear from you, you won’t be a backdoor virgin anymore.”

“Have fun!” Pieck sings. 

…

The Uber drops you off at 8pm at an impressive home. The property is brand new, modern, in a fancier area in the city. 

Walking up the steps, you hear a light whistle from the doorbell, which you press. 

Zeke appears behind the door, glass of whiskey in hand, sweatpants and no shirt. 

This man really is low effort, you muse, biting back the urge to roll your eyes; somewhat regretting the lingerie you have on under your dress. 

Taking a sip, his lips curl into a smirk. “There she is, even prettier than her pictures.” Behind his glasses, he gives you elevator eyes before he steps aside to invite you in. 

The inside matches the modern architecture outside. The foyer floors are pristine white, that lead in several directions. To the left, a sitting room that looks more like a museum with abstract, contemporary artwork hanging on the wall and cool-toned puffs that serve as seats. 

Zeke leads you past that room and the staircase that faced the door, footsteps muted with fluffy slippers while your heels echo along the tile. 

“This way,” he says over his shoulder. “Let me get you a drink.”

Trailing behind, you admire the muscles in his back, equally as taut as the curve of his ass hidden away in his sweatpants. Moreso, you delight in watching him walk before you with a careless, confident swagger, a king in his castle. 

The open-concept kitchen space bleeds into a humble living room. Like the rest of the house, the finishes are polished and modern, yet more homey than the foyer and sitting room. 

He comes around the long kitchen island where the bottle of whiskey rests. He gestures his glass to point at you. “You look like a champagne gal.” 

You lean against the island’s marble countertop, giving him a flirty look. “You’re right, I am. But I’ll have water tonight.”

He arches a brow. “Water? I can pop some bubbly.” He breathes a laugh when you blink at him. “To celebrate. Two souls finding each other to consummate a special occasion.”

You lick your lips, unsure how to respond. He’s really eager to fuck you in the ass. “Water…thanks.”

Zeke shrugs. “Fine, fine, I only have the sparkling kind.”

He would…

You take the glass he’s offered, sipping the bubble water as you wander the space between the living room and kitchen. It’s big and a bit lonely. You recall the details of Zeke’s profile.

An entrepreneur who runs a few private businesses. It makes sense why he’s shacking up in such a nice home, and it also makes sense why he prefers a booty-call. 

You finish the glass of water and set it down on an end table by the plush couch. 

“Well, do you have a surprise for me?” Zeke’s tongue pushes into his cheek, sipping in the sight of you. 

You do the same, letting your stare dance along his muscled chest before they climb back to admire the strong, bearded jawline. He might lack any effort to woo you properly, but he’s got an allure that most older men tend to have. 

“Maybe…” you tease. 

Zeke grins, a man ready to take a bite out of you. He slides his glasses off, setting them aside. Within a few steps, the distance closes between you both. 

His hand finds the small of your back, tugging you closer to him so that he can bear his darkened gaze upon you. He looks just as good without the glasses, in a way you prefer him without. It gives you a chance to soak in the primal look in his eyes. 

He rubs your back, and had you been naïve, you would have thought it was affectionate. But you’re an adult who came here for a reason and that reason slides from your back to palm your ass. 

“Oooh…” Zeke murmurs. His touch ventures elsewhere, greedy hand sneaking up your dress to sample your bare flesh. “Very nice—” He lifts up the side of your dress, a finger hooking into the garter belt. “Very, very nice. A classy woman, getting dolled up for me.”

His hand continues to explore with purchase, sliding along the curve of your ass, stopping at the center. He’s found what he was searching for. 

Zeke’s eyes light up, and you feel his fingers pull the plug gently. 

Biting your lip, a whine escapes anyways when Zeke pushes the plug deeper. 

He leans forward, delight in his voice. “I’m going to ruin you.” He kisses you, finger pushing against the plug again to swallow your whimper. “Going to have to get used to this, baby. I’m much bigger than your toy.”

A sharp smack lands on your ass cheek, and another. 

You do up an act, wrapping your arms around his neck, to give him a hooded stare. “I think I’m ready to take you.”

A sharper smack lands on your backside from Zeke’s excitement, fingers pulling against the plug and ramming it back in. “Let’s not waste any more time.”

He downs the rest of his glass, hissing from the burn. “Are you sure, you don’t want anything to drink? First time may sting. I don’t want to scare you.”

Butterflies flutter around in your stomach, tickling your nerves that for a second you do consider the offer, but ultimately decide against it. “I’m sure.”

Zeke takes the hint, pulling you in with a tight squeeze on your ass and slotting his mouth over yours. It’s scratchy and heavy with whiskey, an exhilaration between your legs, overshadowing the nerves. 

Setting the glass aside, Zeke takes your hand, leading you up the stairs until you reach his bedroom. 

The size of his bed is comical. California-king, dark red velvet sheets with a plush headrest and mirrored closets. It’s like walking on set of a porn film.   

He turns around, whiskey kiss scratching your lips again. You two make out, a slow build as he walks you back until your legs hit the end of his bed. 

He releases you, backpedaling to admire you in the dress. “Show me what’s under there, sweetheart. Give me a show.”

The room heats up fast, charged by the sexual tension and also from the pressure of Zeke’s gaze. Both have you leveling him with bedroom eyes, lifting your hands to drag the straps of your dress off your shoulders. 

They fall away like petals plucked from the stem, revealing the thinner straps of your lace bra. 

Zeke doesn’t move, still like a statue. You’re quick to look away from his eyes and steal glimpse elsewhere. 

He’s hard, dick visible behind his sweatpants. The sight encourages you to keep going, peeling away the dress in a slow strip tease to unveil the rest of your lingerie. Light blue, Colt’s favorite color. 

The dress pools at your feet and you step out of it, running your hands along the intimate lace. You begin with the push-up bra, cupping your breasts, feeling your hardened nipples there. Fingers travel to your sides, slipping past the bra down to your ribcage to stroke along the matching garter belt at your waist. 

Zeke remains still, eyes fixated on your hands pouring onto the straps that connect to your stockings. It’s only when you bring a hand at the center of your thighs does a stuttered breath bring Zeke back to life. 

“That’s a beautiful set you have on,” he says like he’s talking to your body. “Light blue, very delicate. Can’t promise that’s how I’ll be.” He palms his cock over his sweatpants. 

You bristle at his intent, reaching a hand out to his chest. He finally looks up with a lidded gaze. “I don’t mind if it hurts a little.”

Zeke’s jaw unhinges, a dark moan rushing out. He heaves a laugh to collect himself, but you feel his heart racing beneath your fingertips. 

Taking your hand, he kisses your knuckles, a lecherous smile spreading along his beard. “Get comfortable, baby. On the bed.”

You turn, feeling the drag of his eyes as you crawl atop his bed. Throwing a coy look over your shoulder; he’s eye-fucking your backside. 

You crawl until you’ve reached the center, turning back again when he tuts.

The globes of your ass are in both his large hands, groping you with more pressure than earlier as he spreads you out. 

Zeke tuts again. “Although I knew it, I’m still disappointed that this isn’t as pretty as you are.” There’s a push at the plug. 

You wince, squirming forward, but Zeke catches you by the waist. 

The room whirls, the air pushed out of your chest as you land on your back. Zeke crawls on top of you. 

“I can tell you’re a rookie at this.” He settles between your spread legs, drinking you in. “Just because I want to take you by the ass doesn’t mean I don’t want to look at your face. Or…”

The hands that roamed your lower half explore your chest, groping and squeezing your breasts with calloused fingers. 

“These…This is why I love anal sex. I can see everything…” His gaze drifts, voice dripping with glee. “Including your pussy.”

Pushing your thighs further apart, Zeke openly stares at your pussy, bare, and dripping. A finger pulls at the strap on your thigh, letting it go with a loud snap before his hand paws at your center. 

You shiver.

“Lace, crotchless panties, plug in your ass…Good girl, dressed and ready for me…”

He’s on you suddenly, swallowing your mewl of surprise, no longer restraining his hunger to devour you. His tongue moves with passion and authority, hands running up and down your body, focusing on the lace of the garter belt and bra. 

“Fuck—you’re so—fucking gorgeous—” He frees your mouth to scatter rough kisses along your neck. “Every part of you— ” He’s breathless, though he doesn’t stop showering you with attention. There’s a squeeze on your breast, then a pinch through the fabric. 

Your back arches and Zeke pinches again, sharper. 

“You enjoy that don’t you sweetheart?” The words burn into your clavicle, hot and wet. “And this?” 

Teeth sink into your skin, a wonderful sting that travels down to your pussy, you’re unable to stop your hips from bucking up. 

He laughs. “I hear you.” Pushing back, Zeke leans on his haunches, hands settling on your hips in one long stroke. “Lace looks amazing on you.”

You’re pleased that he appreciates the lingerie. The last time you wore anything this risqué was for Valentine’s Day with Colt, much earlier in your relationship. It’s a shame, you didn’t have a chance to give this set the mileage it deserved. Until now.

Your mouth falls open, pussy sucking in Zeke’s finger, having not paid attention to his wandering hand. 

He fingers you in a trance-like state, mesmerized. You slide down, hoping to fuck yourself on his touch, but the man rests his hand on your stomach. 

“Easy, sweetheart. I couldn’t resist. This fucking lingerie, this fucking pussy—” He slaps your clit, burying two fingers this time deep inside of you. “I’m being greedy.”

You can’t even think of a response, relishing in the stretch of his fingers, dragging against your walls, you forget why you’re there in the first place. 

But Zeke reminds you, retracting his fingers and sliding off the bed. 

On your back, you watch him move around the room, hopping out of his sweatpants in a hurry. 

You lift up on your elbows to watch him rummage through his dresser drawers, swallowing down a groan at the sight of his bare ass, toned just as you suspected. 

He whirls around, holding something in his grasp, but you’re not paying attention to that. 

His dick, thick and hard with a few more inches than average, snares your focus. It’s sizeable, though not as big as Jean’s dick was. Still, you’re dosed with nerves again, imagining how that’s going to fit inside your ass. 

Approaching the end of the bed, Zeke yanks you forward by the ankles unceremoniously. Your ass hangs just shy over the edge. 

Zeke slots himself between your legs, the tip of his dick leaking onto your thigh. “You’re plenty wet already, but…got to be a gentleman.”

You realize it’s a small bottle of lube Zeke has.

He’s quick to remove your plug, not giving you a moment to acclimate to the hollow feeling. You whine as it’s pulled out. 

The same fingers that pumped inside your pussy now enter your asshole, slick and much warmer than before. 

“Ah—” Your ass twitches from the sensation as Zeke stretches you out. 

“You like this?” he purrs. “For her pleasure. Told you, I’m a gentleman.”

While gradually you ease into the feeling of your ass getting stretched out, inwardly you roll your eyes at his self-affirmations. A gentleman that had a driver drop you off like some hooker. 

You digress, adjusting to his fingers in your ass, making your pussy gush. 

Zeke flits a look up. “Still a tight little asshole, but you’re ready for me. I’m fucking ready for you.” The tip of his dick ghosts your ass cheek, and you prop yourself on your elbows again. 

“Wait.”

Zeke looks to you with grit teeth. “What is it?”

“Condom?”

Zeke blinks, eyes glazing away elsewhere like he’s running through what to say. He’s avoiding it, and you rein in your annoyance. Where did the self-proclaimed gentleman go?

“Zeke,” you say. “Put on a condom.”

He huffs a strained laugh, peering up at you with wide eyes that are impossible to look innocent when they’re sullied with lust. “You won’t get pregnant.”

You don’t know whether to laugh or scoff. This will be fodder for your friends later. “That’s not the point.”

“I’m clean, baby,” Zeke insists. 

“Great, so slip on a condom. I should have one in my clutch.”

“Don’t you want your first time getting fucked in the ass to be memorable? It’s best enjoyed raw.”

This time you do laugh at that. If not for the beard, the stature, and the impressive home, you would have thought Zeke was in his early twenties not inching towards forty. 

“It’s my protocol, or I’m getting dressed.”

Zeke’s eyes widen a bit, and the distress of you leaving him with blue balls has him blowing out a long-winded sigh. “Fine, fine.” He sighs again, looking away for a beat, then back up, mustering as much charm into his pearly whites as possible. “You sure?”

You shift to sit up, but Zeke urges you on your back. 

“Okay, okay, wanted to make sure.” When he returns with the condom, his spirit to argue is gone. 

He drags you forward, nudging your ass with the tip of his dick. He spasms at the contact and you brace yourself. 

Zeke hooks your knees over his arms, and he leans over to kiss you. “Deep, deep breaths, sweetheart.”

A second after the preamble, Zeke pushes in. 

You bite your lip, brows pinching together, but you don’t want him to stop. Your eyes connect for a moment, and you nod to encourage him to keep going. 

The stretch stings, but it’s nowhere near painful. Doing as instructed, you take deep breaths, watching Zeke. 

His mouth is open, lidded eyes watching his dick slip in. He pulls back slightly and pushes back in, stretching you out a little more. 

You spread your legs wider, and he keeps you like that, using the hold on your legs as leverage to go deeper. 

The sensation is foreign, much like when you had tried your plug for the first time. The more you take of Zeke’s cock, the more comfortable it’s becoming. The fullness in a different part of your body is intoxicating, your head swims in fervor, reaching your core. 

“Someone’s pussy is getting jealous,” Zeke breathes a laugh. 

He’s not wrong. You’re dripping even more than before despite that area being neglected. 

He bottoms out with a long groan. “Shit…” His head is thrown back. “Give me a minute. If I move now, it’ll be over too soon. I’ve never felt such a tight asshole before.”

That minute flies by and Zeke bucks his hips in a thrust. You mewl, clenching around him. 

“Fuck—okay…” His restraint is withering.

“Zeke…” you hum. 

“Yeah, baby?” he grunts, pulling back again. 

“Move.”

He rams back into you with a snap of his hips, setting a pace that leaves you breathless.

Gasps spring forth after every thrust, reveling in the new feeling, finally stroking that fantasy you’ve never gotten to entertain. 

Zeke folds your legs closer to you, perching a foot on the edge for more control. “I’m fucking delirious baby—you should see yourself. Laying pretty on your back with your cute—lingerie while daddy fucks you dumb—”

You don’t have time to register what he’s called himself. The thrusts get sharper, pointed and desperate. Your pussy flutters, an ache to be touched there too. 

Zeke takes notice. “Play with yourself.”

You grunt, but your hand drips down your stomach, fingers playing with your clit. 

“Finger yourself,” Zeke adds. “I want to see both of your holes filled.”

Two fingers slip inside your entrance while your thumb toys with your clit. 

A tidal wave of heat engulfs you, stimulated in the best ways. The fullness of Zeke’s cock in your ass, your fingers pressing into your walls, and the pad of your thumb swiping at your clit, you’re so close to falling apart. 

“Just like that, fuck you’re gorgeous like this,” Zeke grunts, syncing with the twitch of his dick. 

You play with yourself, the taste of nirvana dangles so close, your fingers cramp up, but you push through the stiffened muscles. 

“Want to see you cum,” Zeke says from above, hips turn sloppy. “Please—let me see you cum.”

Your hooded gaze soaks in the needy expression that tells you he’s about to come undone. Rubbing your clit with more vigor, you keep your eyes locked to the heavens, imprisoned by the gaze of a devil, and you cum. 

You don’t stop touching yourself, back arching to ride out your climax, desperate to bask in every second of it. 

Zeke moves faster, hips smacking against your ass cheeks as he groans out his release.

Your back settles on the mattress, your fingers orbit your center lazily, twitching from the overstimulation. Zeke ruts inside of you, pace dialed down significantly until he’s milked every last drop. When his dick softens, he pulls out. 

The mattress dips at your side and you bend an elbow to lean on as Zeke does the same. 

It’s another good look on him; sweaty, panting, eyes glossy, head planted in his hand like a porn actor at the end of a shoot. 

“Not bad for your first rodeo, huh?” He grins. “You’re lucky, baby, you matched with an all-star.”

You roll your eyes, though it’s lighthearted. Whether Zeke really lauds himself as some God at anal sex, your verdict for now is that it’s something you’d do again in the future.  

Now that you’ve gotten a moment to readjust to the emptiness, your ass does feel a little sore, however. That’s something you’d have to get used to. 

You use the last of your reserves to hop off the bed on wobbly feet. 

Zeke does the same. “Why don’t you stay the night? We could have round two in the shower. Though, I stress that it’s more comfortable without a rubber.” He purrs, reeling you in for a sloppy kiss, playing with your stretched out hole. 

You whine, wincing from the tenderness.

“Shit—you’re going to make me hard again. One more round, c’mon.”

You don’t stay the night, firm in your choice, but thank him for the fun. 

He relents, calling you an Uber and sending you off, with a promise that he’ll be in touch. 

It isn’t until you’re back in your apartment, undressing for a shower that it dawns on you. 

You forgot your plug at Zeke’s house.

☻ masterpost☻ taglist: @moonmalice @daisynik7 @theragethatisdesire @squidalapobre @arlerts-angel @shepnicolo @porples-blog @jeanboyjean @fictional-d-supremacy

[girlunknownsblog]

How long did it take him to kiss you for the first time ?

• ᣞ ˳ ꒪ ۫ ⁎ ♡⃝ ˳ ꒪ ۫ ⁎ ᣞ• ᣞ ˳ ꒪ ۫ ⁎ ♡⃝ ˳ ꒪ ۫ ⁎ ᣞ

Eren Jäeger : He waited about 1 month after becoming his gf/bf. I think he waited to make sure you were sincere. The kiss was passionate and sincere.

Armin Arlet : We all know that Armin is very shy. You kissed after 3 months of relationship, he was all red and embarrassed. His kisses are tender, shy and sincere.

Jean Kirschtein : Jean is a passionate boy, he cares about you like his life. He is so in love with you that you kissed after 1 week of relationship. His kisses are passionate and languorous.

Levi Ackerman : Levi has big trust issues that's nothing new. He kissed your cheek then after 5 months of relationship he finally kissed you on the mouth.

Erwin Smith : Erwin is very confident, but a gentleman. He kissed you after 2 weeks together, that was gentle and sincere.

• ᣞ ˳ ꒪ ۫ ⁎ ♡⃝ ˳ ꒪ ۫ ⁎ ᣞ• ᣞ ˳ ꒪ ۫ ⁎ ♡⃝ ˳ ꒪ ۫ ⁎ ᣞ

Hello, little note to revive the imagination.

The continuation of the series on marriage is coming very soon.

[jjkeremika]

Hi, how you doing? I love how you write, so, csn iirequest some Zeke x fem!readerslight smut? Its been a while since i read something about him. Thank you ❤❤

hello, my friend ! thats so nice, thank you <3 you absolutely can request Zeke Jaeger x fem!reader light smut! i hope its okay.

here's what im thinking...

with Zeke, there's always some sort of implication. whether it be bland and simple, or soft and sexy--it was always there, hidden and exposed: a hanging question; an additional thread.

maybe it was in the look he cast you: stern apart from an insinuating brow; steely except in the swirling and suggestive whirlpools of his irises; stoic despite the flickering, mischievous fluorescent light off the glasses.

an unspoken suggestion revealed in the slightest twitch of his lip to an upward curve. in his lingering admiration.

"yn, shall we..." his deep voice was always steady and smooth, collected yet drawn out like an overplayed, hardy record. "move somewhere a little more..." his eyes ambitiously twinkled like the sun's reflection on wet snow. his tone intimately laced with an emotion no vernacular could relate. "comfortable?"

the expecting look, the feather touch of his cool fingertips against warmed skin, the soft sway of his beard as he spoke, as you couldn't take your eyes off his lips, as you swore he was leaning closer--as he tiptoed around the implication like an amateur intruder avoided spotlight.

imperfectly.

"like a couch?" a soft palm graced your exposed thigh, slid easily under the flimsy skirt fabric like it wasn't even there. he leaned close to your ear, the soft yet prickly facial hair barely brushed against the sensitive skin of your neck and cheek. "or maybe a bed?"

obviously.

Zeke pulled away slightly, allowed himself to indulge in the sight of your parted lips and astonished, accepting eyes. you stopped breathing as he hogged the hot air. your reflection boldly cast across the glasses. "just anywhere horizontal, really."

he smirked at your audible inhale, practically a choke. his hand twitched in a looming threat to tighten around the limb.

"why only horizontal?" you were capable of only shallow breaths, unsatisfactory to the indiscernible mess of emotions flooding your gut, caving into your pelvis. despite the intense blood flow, restrained the overbearing need to jump on him, you matched his locked gaze and managed out, "we can have fun vertically too."

you were entranced with the rapid dilation of his pupils, noticed the slight tension encompass his neck and shoulder muscles as he took a controlled breath.

the large hand stretched around your thigh and followed the natural curve, right to the intimate plush of a cheek that so easily contorted under his grip, so willingly accepted his outstretched palm.

the clasp of his fingernails into the fatty skin evoked a sharp exhale—distracted you long enough from preventing the air from desperately escaping captivity, from stopping Zeke from resting an arm against the wall and closing in.

he pounced at the opportunity, collapsed his forehead against yours and needily pressed his lips to yours. took advantage of your open mouth and dipped his tongue inside, licked around like collecting melting ice cream on a cone. dropped his second hand to your cheek, stepped in further and kept you close.

close enough to feel the heat radiating off his larger body, condensing into the tickling sweat along your hairline, seeping into the pounding vessels and arteries running through your body. close enough to feel his shoulders contorting over you, bending down to kiss you deeper. close enough to feel the solid, huge erection at your waist, to feel the throbbing pulse vibrate through the fabric against your abdomen.

Zeke’s second hand joined his other, quickly adapted to the home of your bum and suddenly swept you off the ground, roughly fell into the wall. you didn’t even notice the pain from the wall due to the adrenaline in your blood, because of the insistent grinding of your clothed clit against his hard erection as he rubbed you between himself and the paneling.

he kept his mouth on yours, swallowed every single gasp and sound like he was starved. muffled each moan like it was his dream occupation and he was gunning for a lucrative promotion.

your brain flicked through each feeling like a slideshow: the fondling and squeezing of his hands against your cheeks and upper thighs; the electricity and friction where your crotch met his; the sloppy and wet meshing of your lips with his; the cold and stubborn wall scratching against your hot and flexible spine.

the soft and quiet noises still flooded the room, concentrated into a building ringing in your ears deciphered into one simple word—easily summed up in a single desire. and with Zeke, it was always more. more and more and more.

[justanobodywriter]

Mirror Sex

Zeke Yeager

Cw: gender neutral reader (penetration but non specific body parts used), mirror sex, soft dom/sub dynamics, use of pet and kitten, orgasm for both, no protection, let me know if I missed any

~500 words

Zeke loves watching himself fuck into you over and over again. He loves the look that you get when you look up and see your pretty self getting fucked.

He puts mirrors up on the ceiling, walls, doors, wherever he feels the need to. He wants to be able to watch you from any angle he can. He wants you to be able to watch yourself from every angle with him.

"Just like that, love," he cooed. "Look at how well you're taking me. Such a pretty sight, isn't it?"

You couldn't help but let out little whimpers. Seeing yourself be rammed into, along with Zeke's soft words had you reeling. All you wanted was to let go, but you knew better.

"Such a pretty little pet," he continued. "Tell me what it is you want."

"C-cum, please," you managed out.

He shook his head, "Kitten, you know better than that. You have to use your words."

"Please, I nee-need to cu-cum," you finally got out through hiccups and whimpers.

He chuckled, "Not yet. I don't think you've earned it."

You pressed yourself against his each thrust. He let out a groan at your sudden assistance in him fucking you dumb.

"That's it," he chuckled out.

With each thrust, you both were moving your hips, watching your each move.

"Don't you love how you look when I fuck you, love?" he asked, gripping your head and forcing it forward to look at yourself.

His piercing eyes gazed back at you with such love and lust. You forced yourself to look at your own reflection. Your fucked out expression with his gaze being too much. You pushed yourself over the edge.

"That's right, you earned it," he grunted, only going faster.

You rode out your own orgasm, slumping forward slightly. He held you up until he found his own release only a minute or two later, and who could blame him with how you clenched around him so wonderfully.

He lifted your legs spreading your now full hole to the mirror, "Look at that, kitten. Isn't that a sight to see?"

You moaned again, forcing yourself to look at your dripping hole.

"Think you can take some more?" he asked, chuckling at your expression as the words left his lips. "So eager to please, aren't you, pet. Ok, I can give you some more."

And just like that he was back inside of you, thrusting his own seed deeper inside of you, trying to give you more of what you and he both wanted.

[glitteryvioletpomegranate]

❌ Black Mail

WARNINGS: fem reader, nonconsensual, baby trapping, creampie, aggression, manhandling,  oral, blackmail, Virgin, bi reader, canonverse, degradation, semi-breeding kink, light fluff

WORD COUNT: 7.7k

NOTE: This is my first fanfiction. I may rewrite this fic. I have never been much of a  writer and am typically not really into fiction. (Aot is a rare one!) I have always been into royal history. And there are so many biographies dedicated to the sex lives of like Henry VIII and Julius Cesar, Catherine the Great, etc. 

SYNOPSIS: (Y/N) is a sexually repressed noble Marlyean girl. Who struggles with the guilt of her sexual desires and prejudice beliefs. She takes up new interests out of boredom and desperation and gets more than she bargains for.

 Her mother always told her she was too curious for her own good. She was always sticking her nose into others' business. (Y/N) couldn't help herself. Like many other women who grew up in the aristocracy, she was bored. Aristocratic parents had their daughters receive the same education as their sons. However (Y/N) knew she could not fully use her education to its full potential. (Y/N) family had intermarried within the Marleyan royalty for over three thousand years. as a result, she was gifted with a life full of excess and privilege. It made many things too easy for her in life. Too much excessive time on her hands. She had developed a different interest to subside her boredom.

 (Y/N) loved history and research; she spent many days and late nights researching and reading the history of her people and nation.  She aspired to be a researcher and historical professor; however, that dream would never transpire because of her sex and status. High-ranking women are destined to be a woman of great virtue from birth to death.

The first duty is to make a tremendously prestigious marriage. Secondly, manage a sizable luxurious estate.

And most importantly, to spend the rest of her birthing years having as many heirs as possible. 

The thought of her future never interested her. Only her guilty pleasures kept her interest. She had another love, another guilty pleasure she dared not tell a soul. The nobility of Marley was an incredibly tight, neat circle.

Everyone knew everyone. (Y/N) loved hearing the gossip and scandals of the other ruling families. The most salacious rumor at the moment spreading around the court involved a prominent Marlyean Duke. It was alleged that he had a bastard child with every Eldian woman he hired at his estate. His wife was forced to bear the humiliation that came with each and every child. These types of relations frequently happen. Prominent Marleyan men took willing and sometimes unwilling house servants as mistresses, over half of them being Eldian. (Y/N) had hardly ever been around many Eldians. She knew many of the Marleyan noblemen had children outside of marriage. It was an open secret. 

Most prim societies choose to turn a blind eye to such relations. However, there was unfortunate hypocrisy for Marleyan aristocratic women indulging in the same activity. (Y/N) had once heard a story about a great Lord's daughter having an adulterous affair with an Eldian man. She was engaged to an Earl at the time of this forbidden engagement. As a result, She later gave birth to an illegitimate daughter. The child had a slight eye infection when she was born, and the doctors did a complete health examination, including a blood work test. And the truth was discovered. The Lord's daughter, who received the most lenient punishment for those all involved, was sent to an asylum for shaming her family and husband. Her Eldian lover was tortured along with sentence to death. As for the baby, there are only rumors about what happened to her. Most likely killed as well or, if lucky, dropped at the gates of the Eldian internment zone. The Lord's family station throughout society suffered as well. Her father was shunned, and his other children lost excellent marriage prospects. The poor woman was seen as a whore nothing but damaged goods.

Not only did the Lord's daughter lose her virginity outside of wedlock, but an additional level of shame was placed on her for fornicating with an Eldian demon. Y/N) pitied the Lord's daughter. She was left to rot in an asylum. Many who went into asylums were never seen or spoken about again. Sexuality scared (Y/N). It could lead to a woman's ruin. But late at night, she could not help but try and please herself. She had never once made herself fully orgasm. She'd take her finger and do small laps around her hard clit. . She had somewhat learned how to please herself through romance novels. (Y/N) knew if she were caught reading such filth, she'd be punished. She couldn't help herself. She throbbed at the idea of being filled by a man. (Y/N) could only imitate with her fingers. She wanted so desperately to be touched in such forbidden ways. She was 20 and still unmarried. She was a high asset in the marriage market.

 Her parents kept her unmarried to secure the best possible match for her. (Y/N) knew she would be sold to the highest bidder. What if she was forced to be engaged to a man 30 years her senior? It was a common occurrence. Giving her all to a man possibly edging on erectile dysfunction displeased her. Why should that matter, she thought. Sex was only meant for reproduction anything else is a sin. She did not know what her fate would be, but she did know she was tired of waiting. Was the Lord's daughter tired of waiting, too, (Y/N) wondered. The Lord's daughter was not the only woman in high society who had lusted after an Eldian man. Once at a ball (Y/N) had hidden in a closet to take advantage of their drunken state and over here all the scandalous things they would say. 

The group of women had a reputation for being distasteful. (Y/N) had even heard that they practice witchcraft. She was so excited to hear about their mystically depraved lives, but she heard something different. Sex!

 Each woman went around and announced a man they'd wished to bed. Some admitted they wanted to bed each other's fathers, brothers, and husbands. Every man the woman named was forbidden. 

"I'd love to have mad passionate sex with Willy Tybur," one woman admitted

 (Y/N) could not help but shudder in disgust Ew. That man looked like a snake!

 "Oh, so you would have sex with an Eldian?" Another woman said, shocked. A third woman chimed in

 "I absolutely would fuck Zeke Yeager." 

Most of the women couldn't help but agree. Zeke Yeager, the beast titan ?? How could they be attracted to such an Eldian demon? She had never seen Zeke in human form but once witnessed his titan. It was nothing short of someone's worst nightmare, evil red eyes. Eyes like a devil ! she thought.

"I wonder how large his cock is"

 "I think the strongest man in all of Marley has to have a large cock” a woman said as she slurred her words due to being drunk.

The women erupted in laughter. "He must get so much pussy” 

"I actually heard he’s quite a  prude and aloof." 

"Oh, Boo!"

 "I'd suck his cock any day." 

Regardless of how much she thought these women's fantasies were hedonistic and vile! Her pussy could not help but throb. Since she was a teenager (Y/N  had always felt constantly aroused. While growing up, she befriended maid girls around the same age as her. (Y/N) would convince the girls they had to "practice" with each other to prepare for intimate moments with their future husbands. She loved fondling the maid's girl's breast as she kissed their soft lips. (Y/N) had even convinced them to play with themselves in front of her. Unbeknownst to the girls (Y/N) would also be under the sheets playing with her wet cunt. (Y/N) adamantly had convinced herself this was all for her future husband. She liked to tell herself she was not enjoying this but practicing. She was a great lady of the house by offering to teach other girls. She wasn't compromising her virtue in any way. She'd only have her husband be the one to touch her in her sweet private parts. Soft whimpers, moans, and their sweet wet spilling pussies the way they kiss her neck while they circle her little nums.

She "constantly" reminded herself she was not into any of that. These girls were just helpful, and she was equally beneficial back. Using all she knew from her Romance novels about how to "practice," She had helped three maids throughout her teenage years. The Last one is an Eldian girl. (Y/N) was curious. The girl, adorable, will probably be a mistress to an aristocrat in no time. At first, when she heard that an Eldian had been hired at her parent's estate. She was naturally disgusted. How could they let such a wench be employed and in the same room as her? In all her 18 years, she had never encountered an Eldian person. Other than when she laid eyes on that beast, Zeke Yeager. She vowed to stay away from the girl. This girl may have been beautiful on the outside. She was probably just as evil as the rest of her people. 

As time went along, (Y/N) boredom sprung up again. This girl was sweet and gentle. This Eldian girl's lips were just as tender as others. Her breasts felt just as soft, and her pussy worked in all the same ways. And when (Y/N) sucked on her nipples, her moans and whimpers sounded similar.

For the next two years (Y/N) had started to doubt what she had been taught about the Eldians. She later concluded that maybe it was just the men who were cruel, forcing their poor wives into submission. Marleyan men, too, could be so abusive to their wives. An Eldian man's treatment probably far outweighed the cruelty of that of any Marleyan. That made the most sense to (Y/N). But if that were true, how could the noblewoman sent to the asylum have such a passionate love affair with an Eldian man? Was she starved for affection? Did she become desperate enough to become lovers with an Eldian man? What had made Eldians and Marleyan such bitter enemies for centuries anyways?

 She knew that her family, for over three millennia, had been enemies and rivals with the Fritz clan. 

Her ancestors had written first-hand accounts of the Eldian royal family passed down through generations.

She wanted to know the truth! Were Eldian people devils? or was that all just lies? 

 (Y/N) spent her time deep in her ancestor's stored archives studying Eldian history and literature. They had such a vast, rich history. She never knew she could love history and research on people who were supposedly devils. 

 Eldian people were just people like anyone else, men, women, and children. (Y/N) concluded. 

She chose to focus more of her studying on the Eldian monarchs. Their cruel kings had forced them into centuries of violence and terrorism against the world. They were the true devils! 

The Fritz family had been oppressive, ruling all with an iron fist. They even tortured and subjected their own people. She learned they would take mistresses from all over the world, whether the women consented to it or not. These Kings were only allowed to take a mistress if he could fully provide for all her needs. Back then, Eldian society had thought a woman's orgasm was imperative for conception. These kings were cruel yet remarkable at pleasing a woman in all her needs. 

(Y/N) was brought up believing that sex was for the man's pleasure only. Sex is basically considered a necessary evil to make heirs. Women were not meant to enjoy the intensity of sex but to lay back and do their duty for their country. (Y/N) jaw dropped when she realized the stark contrast in sexual relations. 

In her mind, she thought of the Eldian kings as Hedons. She did not realize she was incredibly turned on. (Y/N) wanted to know more about these murderous, animalistic, lustful Eldian kings. She had to learn more! 

The remaining accounts were, unfortunately, locked in a library in the Eldian internment zone. This Library had been closed to the public for over a hundred years. She wrestled with herself. She wanted so badly to go. The true danger would be in the Marleyan soldiers. She knew she'd have an easier time coming in than leaving. She decided then and that night to go to the Eldian internment zone (Y/N), snuck out, and took a late-night train. She looked out of the window, leaving the environment where she grew up. The train began moving faster, passing the most beautiful modern neoclassical architecture and mind-blowing Georgian landscapes. 

As the train ride went on, the buildings became less and less stellar. It took over an hour to get across Libero. Till she finally reached the interment zone. The sky looked a bit cloudy. She noticed as she stepped out off the train. She looked over at the gates. Officers were guarding every corner of the entrance. It would be a scandal if she were to be caught going in. A High society Marleyan heiress conversing with the lowest of society. She had stolen her maid's armband and unique permission papers that granted her access to leave the internment zone. As she showed the soldiers her paperwork, she could not help but notice their faces of discontent. She was let in without a fuss. The weather betrayed her, and it started to rain.  

After about an hour, she found the Library. There was a small window that (Y/N) snuggled into. It was dark and dusty. It looked as if many of these books had not been touched in decades. She passed multiple genres. Till she finally made it to the history section. (Y/N) found the area dedicated to Eldian Monarchs. She didn't know where to start. She glanced over hundreds of book titles until one caught her eye: Oral History: of The Sex Lives of the Eldian Kings. She pulled the book out of the shelf. It was covered in dust and cobwebs.

She started to open it when suddenly a large hand above her snatched the book out as soon as she opened the cover. 

"These archives have been closed to the public for over 100 years, and trespassing is highly illegal and may even warrant a death sentence," A man's voice said from behind her.

 (Y/N) turned around, a tall, broad-shouldered man stood in front of her. She was shocked; she couldn't even say a word. (Y/N) thought she was the only one here.

 She didn't even hear this man come behind her. She noticed the man was wearing a tan Marlyean military uniform. Of course, a soldier, she thought, someone trained in espionage. 

"Do you have special permission papers to be here? He glared down at her with only a foot space between them.

 If so, I need you to show them to me before you proceed any further," He said with authority. 

"Well, I," she trailed off, noticing his eldian armband. 

It wasn't yellow like the others but red, so he must be a warrior, a titan shifter. She grabbed his arm for further inspection to confirm what she was seeing. She looked up at the man. He stared back at her with annoyance waiting for her to speak. She could not help but notice an oval face with high cheekbones and a square-shaped jaw. His mid-sized muscular frame. He had golden skin and hair. And his eyes were large & blue. He is exceptionally handsome. This must be him. This must be the beast titan. She expected to see a devil, but she could only see a beautiful, alluring man staring back at her. He had such a sweet mouth that she could not help but admire them. She was in disbelief. As a result, she reached up and placed her hand on his thick lips. He interrupted her deep thoughts. 

"Can I have my arm back now? 

 

She was still holding a tight grip on him.

Are you going to speak or just stare at me all day?" he said in a low, threatening tone. 

The utter embarrassment had finally pushed her to speak. 

"Yes, hello, I'm a university student, and I was just doing a little research here. I am sorry I did not seek your permission before looking through the Library," (Y/N) said with a very shaken voice. 

He studied her face. "May I ask what you are doing here as well?" she asked. 

 "I'm a part of a particular unit in the military. I was granted special access to these archives to study ancient titan history to improve Marlyean warfare." 

He had a moment of silence, gathering his thoughts. 

"As far as I know, I am the only person who has been granted permission to be here. Let me see your papers. "He had his hand out.

She pulled out her previous Eldian maid's papers and handed them to him" He smirked. 

"You really expect me to fall for this? Do you think I am an idiot?" he chuckled slightly."

 "Give me proof of your real identity, or I'll be forced to turn you in to the authorities, or I'll have to personally punish you myself." 

Frightened about what could happen, she took out her actual Identification. And handed it to him. He let out a burst of roaring laughter.

"A Marleyan trying to lie about their identity and break into the Eldian internment zone! Usually, it's the other way around!  I should have known. You even had your armband upside down! I thought it was because you were crazy! "

He found her amusing and kept humoring himself with her presence. He bent down inches to her face. 

"What is a little rich girl like you doing here in the interment zone? Trying to get up to trouble?"

 God, she had been hoping her prominent family's name would get her spared for trespassing. She felt exposed and incredibly vulnerable in front of this large man. 

"No No I am no troublemaker! Just a student. 

Why was she so nervous (Y/N) thought. 

 I really want to be a researcher. A real one! Without any unbiased beliefs, I'm just here to find books about the relations between Eldia and Marley. I dedicated an immense amount of time and research to the history of Eldia. It’s been a true passion of mine for the past two years. I hate that I was lied to my whole life about  Eldians”.

She gasped and covered her mouth. Did she just commit treason? Will he think she’s a revolutionary? Why can’t she control herself around him?

“And” Zeke said toneless

“ Ummm, judging by the red armband."

She stammered through her words.

" You're a titan shifter; you must be Zeke Yeager. I know the other warriors are very young, but I've read the beast titan is almost the same age as me, so you must be him  Am I right?" 

She said, rambling with anxiety.

He backed away from her and looked into her eyes, carefully studying her thinking and what to say next. 

"So you've heard of me," he said casually. He seemed arrogant and used to the praise.

 "Of course, everyone has heard of you! You're Marley's wonderboy."

 He grabbed the top of her soaking dress and pulled her so close their chests almost touched.

 "I am not very impressed with flattery." So did you come to gawk at the devils like you're in a zoo? A girl like you has probably never even been this close to an Eldian man in your life. Well, take a good long look. This is what a devil looks like," Zeke stated in a sharp tone. 

He seemed like he could care less about being polite. 

"I have never been close to any man like this. Honestly, I completely sympathize with the Eldian commoners" He pushed her back.

 "Sorry, I didn't mean it like that. There are Marlyean commoners too! Her racism had lessened over the years, But her classism did not. Her word vomit continued. This was awkward, and she could not help but feel utter embarrassment in front of this beautiful man. 

"Follow me," Zeke cut her off. (Y/N) was quite unsure about going any further with this man. She stood there, looking at him, unsure what to do. Even being alone with a man was considered to compromise one's purity. She looked out the window, and it was thundering and hailing. She had zero chance of getting home even if she wanted to. He chuckled, 

"You've gone mute again, I see." 

Before she had time to respond, Zeke grabbed her hand and began taking her with him. 

His basement was cozy. It looks as if Zeke had set up this room as his home away from home.

 "you must be freezing. I'll start the fireplace." Afterward, Zeke started to hand her books and papers. The books, reports, and letters were priceless information. 

She sat on the couch and Zeke at the table. She noticed he had a mini Library. 

"Thank you so much! You're being so kind to me. Why?" (Y/N) said 

 "It's always a pleasant surprise to meet an unbiased researcher. You seem inquisitive and empathetic. We need more people with attributes like you in society," Zeke stated softly. 

"What do you mean"

 "Most people walk around like sheep believing everything and anything said to them." Zeke's complement could not help but make her quiver 

His personality seemed to do a complete 180. He was warm now. Had he been testing her before? (Y/N) started looking through the books and documents he laid out for her while Zeke pulled out a Whiskey bottle. 

 Then handed a drink to her.

"Hmm, it tastes like top-shelf Whiskey, Yeager. You have great taste."

 "Ah, you're not as innocent as I thought." he chuckled. Zeke got up and disappeared for a second. He returned with a towel and shirt.

 "You probably want to put on dry clothes right now, and it looks like you won't get back home tonight. This is all I have to offer." 

(Y/N) began to unbutton the top part of her soaking dress, Zeke could already feel his male member hardened, and she had not even revealed herself yet.

 As she pulled down the front of her dress. Zeke did not mind seeing, but he wondered, was she this innocent? She probably only grew up around maids and nannies. He assumed she was probably used to changing and showing her body to her female household. She had no idea how to act in front of the opposite sex. His oversized shirt reached right above her thigh. Zeke could not help but look at how cute (Y/N) looked in his clothes. He noticed she wasn't wearing a bra. 

Zeke could see her nipples were hard. He knew it was wrong but could not look away, and Whiskey started taking his mind to other places. In all his 20 years, Zeke had not wasted his time on trivial love pursuits. And that included sex. It was hard. But he did not need even the slightest chance of himself producing a child. And the last person he could ever get involved with is a wealthy heiress from a Marleyan family. 

He knew the past of both Reiner and Annie. Both are a product of an illegal affair between a Marelyan and an Eldian. He knew Annie had been abandoned. Additionally, Renier's father wanted nothing to do with him, and his mother used him as a means to an end to get back at her lover and to receive an honorary Marlyean status. He felt nothing but deep remorse for his mixed raced comrades. It was already a painful life being Eldian, even more so being a child of royal blood or mixed race. 

To Zeke being a royal-blooded child meant to be used as a tool, a weapon even more so than the typical Eldian. He thought being a product of mixed-race relations only ensured abandonment by one or both parents. He use to not get how people could purposely conceive unwanted children.  He later realized people had primal instincts and needs that sometimes could not be completely controlled, even when the relations were detrimental to one's self.  Zeke had started to have a taste of it himself. 

Ever Since Zeke made a name for himself, All kinds of women and some men threw themselves at him. Whenever he'd be in different nations, he'd have secret light sexual encounters. It began at seventeen. He started by making out with women who were desperate for him. He did it more out of curiosity than pleasure. Well, that's what he likes to tell himself. 

Over the years, it has only progressed into touching below the belt; finally, last year, he had his cocked sucked for the first time. It felt warm, wet, and intense. The feeling of a woman's mouth sliding up and down his shaft at the right speed. He loved becoming more sensitive and cumming in her warm wet mouth. Some of him loved the sensations; another was scared and reluctant to take the next step. If he were to impregnate someone, all his morals and life's work would be compromised. 

"What inspired you to be into history and research (Y/N) asked. 

"The previous beast titan devoted his life to research. He was like a surrogate father to me. Well, I continued his research to honor him." She sat on a thick blanket in front of the fireplace, reading each book's synopsis. 

(Y/N) lifted her head to look at him, giving him a soft, reassuring smile. "That's incredibly sweet; oh, so that's how you acquired those historical documents on the Titans and the Fritz family," her speech became louder as she worked on her second glass of Whiskey. 

"Well, yes, some from him and the others passed down through the generations of my mother's family. "I am surprised Marely didn't force him into battle like all the others." She rudely interrupted. 

"Ah, he said his battle sheep was useless. "That's very shocking. You have managed to become Marley's number-one warrior with your abilities. I even heard you can turn Eldians into titans." She said somberly, 

"Honestly, I think he used that as an excuse not to be on the battlefield."

"You don't sound impressed by my abilities ?." 

"Being turned into a mindless titan is mental agony, well, from what I read." 

A slight pang of guilt hit him. "Do you remember being a mindless titan"? Zeke brought a chair over in front of her. 

"No, it all happened so fast" He wondered what type of information this girl had and where she got it. Zeke quickly changed the conversation. 

So what kind of information are you trying to learn about these kings, like how they fucked? Her face lit up.

"There's, umm, a lot of important information in there.

 "Like what? Learning what it's like to deep throat" He chuckled

 as he ran his hand through his golden wavy hair. 

"This is not the history of economics or medicine. It's about sex!" He exclaimed. He liked teasing this innocent girl.

 "No, and I'd never be so amused with such a depraved act!" she said defensively. 

"At Least try it first before making assumptions. 

"So, have you ever done that thing ."

 "Well, some parts of it."

 "Sex is only for reproduction, Zeke!." 

"Sweetheart, that's the last thing I would EVER want to do! Zeke said in between laughter. 

"Stop laughing at me. I'm serious. It is a woman's use in this world." 

"So much sexual shame. I understand why you think this way. Marriage for people like you is all about business and contracts, not sex or love. I should have guessed you're a Marelyan prim and proper princess, so of course, you'd be Prude" It's okay; I understand what it's like to be you somewhat."

Zeke stood up and began to pour himself another drink. 

What do you mean? (Y/N) ran over to him in haste. 

She was starting to feel the Whiskey.

"Your environment, your parents, feeding you propaganda so they can exploit and use your body for their own gain. I was reluctant, just like you, until I realized having sex is almost just like eating and sleeping you don't have to feel shame for your body and desires (Y/N)." 

"Why are you judging me" she felt exposed.

"Aren't you doing exactly what you are accusing me of?" Letting others exploit and use you, why else would you be a warrior.?Sounds hypocritical to me.”

"Turning things around on me does not invalidate my argument.  Have you ever even touched yourself?"

"NO"

He could not help but burst into laughter. Zeke could tell she was lying.

“Well, if you had, that makes you a hypocrite too.”  Is this how most Maelyan princesses are? 

I have committed many sins, and I still don't know whose life is worse, yours or mine."

She grew annoyed and angry.

"Well, what? You probably had sex with over 100 women, huh? I bet you’re a  man slut, just like your ancestors Zeke  (Y/N) said while laughing.

 "What do you mean" His eyes began to widen. "Zeke, I know what blood can turn Eldians into titans. My ancestors constantly referenced your people and their abilities in their private letters. You know, all those eldian kings had bitches. They fucked all over the place," she giggled. 

The alcohol had started to hit. Zeke's face turned to a frown. "I lived a life full of poverty and discrimination. If I had royal blood, don't you think I'd be living just as well, if not better than the Tyburs, maybe even you?".

" You're right, but I know the royal family hid after the great titan war. She threw back another glass of Whiskey. The drunker she became, the more her language and movement became uncouth. 

" You hid, right? God, that all must have been very sad for your family.  I feel awful for your parents being sent away," she said somberly. 

Zeke's eyebrows lifted. "So you've been studying me too?"

"Just a Little bit. I was curious," 

He smirked  “ (Y/N) I have no idea where you came to all these conclusions. You're drunk!"

 She laughed. She had begun pouring them more drinks. 

“You should lay off the booze,” Zeke stated 

 

“What ever you say, your majesty,” (Y/N) giggled. 

He scoffed

“ You don't believe me? Really? Of course because a poor eldian commoner usually always has not only priceless but even dangerous information if it falls into the wrong hands about the world's most influential family for nearly 2000 years. (Y/N) said sarcastically. 

 "The Blond hair, the blue eyes, you have your lineage written all over you!

 He smirked and took another sip of Whiskey. 

" Ahh, we both spoke too much tonight, didn't we? I am surprised that you are an actual researcher. Damn, you got me.

 He started to light up a cigarette. His eyes bore into hers.

 (Y/N) noticed he had become slightly angry again. He studied her every move like he'd do to an enemy on the battlefield. He then paused before speaking, strategizing what to say to her next. 

"Based on that book you picked, I thought you were only interested in how eldian kings fucked their bitches."

 "So you are not just a little fucking slut!" She didn't know what she had said to piss him off. She walked right over to him as he sat on the couch.

 "How could you perceive me as such a dishonorable woman? She snarled. 

She didn't care that he was Marley's most powerful man. She had to stand up and protect her virtues.

 "I was looking at this book because there was a crucial part to my research that had NOTHING to do with the sex life of a man, not only just a man but an Eldian devil!" She was doing her best to lie. 

She was so stupid. Why did she have to open her big fucking mouth?

 Zeke smirked. 

"So you just happened to be looking at a book about the Eldian royal family. And you, by coincidence, happen to meet one of their last descendants?? The only one left on Marley. You expect me to believe this ?"

He started to corner her against the wall. 

"Are you a spy?"

She went silent 

 "Are you a fucking spy?" he said a little louder. His voice was not loud, but it still was intimidating.

 "Of course not."

 "Okay then, so if you're not a spy, you must be some kinky bitch with a race fetish."

 He successfully managed to corner her back to the wall.

 "Did you come all this way so I could fuck the shit out of you, right? That's what you want. You want to be conquered by an eldian king and fucked against your will, huh? That's what most kings did to those women. I guess you are not a sweet virgin Marleyan princess after all." 

"No, that's not it at all. I had never even met an Eldian man before you, and I found you scary," I swear all of this is just strange coincidences." 

He walked away from her, not saying one word. He pulled out an expensive bottle of Champagne. And handed her a glass. "Cheers to us for cohabitating in the same room without wanting to hurt each other like our ancestors did for thousands of years." 

There's no way he was just over something so easy is this a trick, she thought. 

"I'm sorry for anything I said that could have offended you. I am a naive girl who doesn't know what she is talking about," she said.

 Zeke threw back all his wine. And looked her up and down. "You didn't say anything that offended me. Remember, I'm a warrior," He said while closing the distance between them and lifting her head with one hand. "I have killed many people, honey. It takes much more than some nosey bitch to affect me."

He kissed her like an animal. His mouth tasted of wine and cigarettes. Her body went into shock. She didn't and couldn't kiss him back. Her "practice" with the maids did not prepare her for a Man's taste. The girl's lips felt soft and sensual.

In contrast, this man's mouth felt built up of raw carnal desire. His strong arms began to squeeze her perky ass. Please," she said. "I'm sorry." 

 Her entire body came alive at his touch, both gentle and threatening. His hands fell away from her. They both struggle to catch their breath. She grabbed her wine and took a large gulp. He pinned her against the wall again. (Y/N) unconsciously kissed back.

She couldn't let this man ravish her. 

 "I'm sorry,”  in between kisses.

 She could feel his rock-hard cock against her And couldn't fight off his strong arms holding her hips in place. 

"I could never forgive myself if I gave away my maidenhood before marriage. While gasping for breath. 

"I could ruin everything my family has worked for" He looked down at her.

"What else am I to do then?"

The question caught her off guard. 

"How about this? Let's make a deal. You've got two options "one, I either kill you, or two, break you in?" 

She knew he wasn't lying. 

“ hm, why no, uh,” she said softly, unable to form a sentence. 

He's technically a mass murderer. Before she could respond adequately, He put a finger in her panties and then lightly on her lips. Zeke began to chuckle. 

Aww, you're already soaked down here. Maybe you want me to the fuck the shit out of you (Y/N)."

She could only just stare into his deep blue eyes. (Y/N) felt conflicted and ashamed of herself. 

She felt more shame and fear for how horny she felt than the actuality of losing her virginity to Zeke and not her future husband.

Before she could answer, he shut her up with a passionate kiss. And proceeded to take off her clothes. And pushed her back onto the couch. He laid on top of her nude body. While still having his warrior's uniform on. He went back to feverishly kissing her. She groaned indirectly with desire. He forced his tongue down her throat. She was struggling not to instinctively dry hump and kiss him back. 

His body was so much larger than her feminine frame. Zeke continued to lay kisses down her body. He then finally made his face toward her part. He glared at her sex. 

He took a finger and gently felt her lips. He stuck two fingers in her hole. When he took his fingers out of her, they were incredibly wet. How could this be her body betraying her?

Zeke slowly began to rub her clit. She begrudgingly let out a small moan. He began to speed up through her broken soft cries. 

"Why are you doing this to me, Zeke?" she moaned.

 "Why," Zeke said as he continued to play with her cunt. 

Zeke knew he'd have to resort to all sorts of morality crimes the moment he inherited the beast titan; taking advantage of a woman was not one of them. He had to do it, he reasoned. 

It's too late to jeopardize everything he worked for. 

Zeke came to her ear as he continued pumping his large hand in and out of her warm pussy. "If word were to get out about my lineage, I would be forced to breed like cattle and watch my children being used as weapons of mass destruction." 

"uhh," (Y/N) could not help but let out a pleasurable moan. I got you intoxicated, so you opened up to me, and I could figure out your motives. I don't think you're a spy (Y/N); you are just a naive virgin slut” "I'm sorry (Y/N). He forced his fingers in and out of her.

 "So you're blackmailing me then ??!!" she let out a whimper. Zeke ignored her. He then sat (Y/N) on the couch in a regular position. He dropped down to his knees and pulled her lower body towards the opening of his mouth.

 "What a sweet, obedient girl," he purred. He was delighted that (Y/N) opened her legs wide just for him. Zeke began teasing her, returning to her thighs and giving her great kisses. (Y/N) was so cute and sexy as she looked down nervously with desire. He wanted to show her good oral affection. Zeke gently and slowly kissed her labia.  Then lightly licked her clit.

She had no idea what he was doing. She never imagined having a man's face in her crotch. It was mortifying. mouths and genitals? Good lord, how would she ever get past the shame around it? what was the purpose of this? She pees down here!

(Y/N) embarrassment and confusion started to vanish. 

She let out a giggle. It tickled.

 He buried his face into her crotch. Flickering his tongue around her throbbing clit as slowly as he could, he was in no hurry. Zeke was determined to make this situation as sexually pleasing for her as he could.

 He pulled his face up to look at her. She was all over him “

(Y/N) your pussy taste so fucking good.”

 She could not help but feel incredibly turned on by that remark. Zeke was no longer pinning her against the couch; she could get up and try to run. The tickling sensation was warmth and wetness. As his licking progressed, it felt heavenly. (Y/N) looked down and made eye contact with Zeke.

"fuck"

(Y/N) had begun to feel light butterflies in her stomach. Her first orgasm came unexpectedly. Her head fell back with immense pleasure; Zeke began to speed up the pace. 

She threaded her fingers in between his golden locks. Zeke began to use his fingers once again. She tried her hardest to muffle her moans. She didn't want him to know she was enjoying every minute of him pleasuring her. He then began to tongue fuck her tight pussy. (Y/N) did not understand what was happening to her. Such a large amount of liquid began to pour off her cunt, down her legs, and onto Zeke's face. Who knew this could feel so amazing. 

Zeke would moan as he continued to make out with her sweet cunt. She bucked her hips for more. She was going to keep fucking this smug bastard's mouth until she could not anymore. Her build-up continues to get higher and higher. At this point, she could not cover up her sweet moans. . Zeke could tell by her whimpers and moans that her climax was soon. Sucking and licking her, savoring her taste. (Y/N) let out a scream. 

And released her cum all over Zeke's face. She struggled to catch her breath. She looked at Zeke in between her legs. He smiled and then started to take off his uniform Till she could see everything about him. Tall, muscular, and with plenty of abs. He stood right in front of her as she sat in the same position on the couch.

 "Come to the edge of the couch," he demanded. She was to face Zeke's dick. Huh, those ladies had been right about suspecting it was big, she thought, "Suck on it" She was too far in and obliged to his command, 

 "the head. Slowly circle with your tongue (Y/N)" The tip is very soft. She licked lower, beneath the head, down one side of the shaft, and then the other. "Grab my shaft tightly with your hands, push back and forth while sloppy sucking my head. She liked having his part in her mouth too.

" He knew he had to instruct her. He grabbed her hair and made her look up at him while in action. He started to buckle his hip fucking her mouth. He moaned, "You like it, huh? you like being my little concubine, my whore! "

Stop," he said. Had she done something wrong, she thought, "Lay back down on the blanket in front of the fireplace and spread your legs." He demanded. " (Y/N) nervously did as Zeke commanded. 

Zeke lay on top of her. He could not help but feel aroused by feeling her petite body underneath his large frame.  He grabbed her face. “You are hardly putting up a fight (Y/N). It surprised her as well. Zeke pushed himself in between her legs fully. He lined his rock-hard cock to her cunt. . "Please pull out once you're finished. 

"Why?" he said with lust in his eyes. 

"Because I could get pregnant."

 "Maybe I want to get you pregnant." 

He pressed against her hymen and shoved himself in her all at once.

 Their sloppy, sweaty bodies connected to someone for the first time. Zeke slowly thrust himself all the way into her wet warm tight pussy. He let out a deep sigh and slightly lowered himself. "Fuck, you feel amazing," he said in a low, breathy tone had barely been inside and felt he could spill himself at any moment. He began to thrust in and out of her. (Y/N) wrapped her arms instantly across Zeke's shoulders. "Oh my god, "she said in a low, breathy tone. 

She could feel his long shaft hitting up her G spot. (Y/N) could not help but look Zeke straight in the face as he demolished her cunt. His facial expressions turned her on. The more Zeke shoved, the more her juices burst out of her. She began whimpering. Zeke enjoyed fucking and conquering this sweet innocent little girl's pussy. He could feel her walls clenching around him and started to climax 

 "I'm gonna cum," he said. 

“Pull out, please.”

He kept pumping her pussy. The panic on her moaning face satisfied him. "Beg more." 

Zeke never wanted to get anyone pregnant; however, he'd do anything to reach his goal. Well, that's what he told himself. It felt too good. He didn't think he could be stopped. 

“Oh my God, it's coming again,” (Y/N) moaned. She climaxed 

His thrusts became more frequent and uncouth, and he let out his large load in her pussy. When he looked down and saw his milky white cum and blood in between her thighs, Zeke was still inside her, exhausted from their excursion.  He secretly loved successfully spoiling this girl for the rest of her life. 

Zeke stood up, got a wet-washed cloth, and wiped both of their private parts. He picked her up, laid her back on the couch, and then disappeared for fifteen minutes. Y/N) really hated to admit it, but it was incredible. Her body felt amazing during and after sex. 

He brought in a warm cup of tea and a large blanket. She looked worried. (Y/N) looked up at his soft gaze.

" We are even now okay. You don't have to worry anymore." Zeke said quietly

She looked up into his eyes. “ Was I as good as the others?’ 

Zeke couldn't help but laugh. He assumed she'd be distressed about losing her virginity instead.

“ You are amazing (Y/N). I have to go now. Please remember to stay out of trouble. He stood up and kissed her forehead, and left. 

[lostinwildflowers]

I'm going through hell week in school so how about a modern au Zeke x reader? Like, Zeke is either a year older or they're the same age, and he helps the reader with homework. Idk I just need fluff from monke boi. Tenchu 💜💜

Studying, or Something

Zeke Yeager x Reader

Your fingers drummed on your already pounding forehead, your mind running away from any thought of logic. You had been at your physics homework for hours.

You knew that cramming wasn't effective, but how else were you going to learn this all before your quiz tomorrow afternoon?

"Babe, I hope you're ready for our date tonight~" came your boyfriend's unusually happy trill. Zeke comes swinging into your dorm room, his hair styled in the waves just the way you liked, dressed in a deep red button-up and some khaki pants.

He slides into the door frame, leaning up against the wall as he takes a good look at you, and his happy, goofy mood immediately drops. There you were, hunched over your cluttered, small desk, fingers repeatedly carding through your hair.

A sigh falls from his lips when he sees you're nowhere close to being dressed, let alone done with your homework.

When you hear his voice, your eyes immediately snap to the calendar just above your desk, and your stomach drops when you see your handwriting scrawled out: "date<3".

Your (colored) eyes flash to him, panic written all over your features as your pencil falls from your hands and your calculator slips out of your lap onto the floor.

In an instant, you are completely overwhelmed and stressed, and you can't help the tears that well up in your eyes and start sliding down your cheeks.

Zeke lurches forward and drops to one knee, his hands coming up to cup your face and brush the tears away. His gaze softens as he looks at you, disheveled and obviously overcome.

"Shh, shhh, sweetheart," he chides as he tried to get your gaze on him, "It's alright, it's al-right." You finally look up at him, hardly being able to see him through the tears in your eyes.

"I- I'm so sorry I- I forgot about our d-ate," you hiccup as you sob, "I- I'm just so dumb and I don't know how-" "Stop it," he cuts you off, his voice stern.

"I could care less about the date now, sweetheart," he states, shifting onto both knees to kneel in front of you. One of his hands drops to yours, grabbing them gently and caressing them.

"Okay, yes, I was very excited about our date tonight, but my main concern is always you," he murmurs, wiping away a stray tear from your cheeks.

You sniffle and nod, not having the energy or bandwidth to argue with him. He sighs through his nose as he asks, "Now what's making my sweet girl so stressed?"

You look down at your lap and grumble, "Stupid physics." You see, math, particularly physics, was not your strong suit. But your engineering major boyfriend was a genius.

"Sweetheart, why didn't you just ask for my help? I could have been here hours ago," Zeke asks, his brows knitting in concern. You shrug and mumble, "Didn't want to bother you."

Zeke just looks at you in thought for a second before he replies, "We can talk about that problem later, alright? Let's just take a study break, get some water, and then I'll help you, m'kay?"

You give him a small nod, and he gives you a soft smile in return. He gets up with a small "huff", and pulls you to your feet. He immediately draws you into his chest, forcing you to look up at him.

You sniffle again and whisper, "Thank you." He bends down, brushing his nose against your own and he chuckles, "Don't thank me yet, honey. We still have to make it through your homework."

You groan and he just chuckles at you playfully but reaches down to give you a sweet kiss on your lips. When he pulls away he jibes, "You're gonna have to take me out to dinner after you ace that quiz tomorrow, it's only fair."

You roll your eyes and lean into his chest, wrapping your arms around him. He reciprocates, pulling you into a tight hug.

"It's a deal."

[adalz]

Lacrymosa - part 6

pairing: Zeke x Reader ー Priest!Zeke x Angel!Reader ー Angel!Levi / Angel!Reader

chapter warnings: mention of violence and blood, mention of death and wounds, mention of war / sacrilege tw, yada yada

world count: 6.4k

a/n: Levi. That's it.

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Someone was calling your name. 

Only no one upon these lands could have imitated its distinctive sound. Not in this way. There were only a few people who called you like that. Only one voice calling you with this intonation.

A familiar language that you had once dreamed of hearing on these lands. A voice that had resounded thousands of times on opaline surfaces and in too pristine halls. Now it echoed beyond the treetops, throughout the entire sky. It was calling you. That voice, so warm, so far away. Silver gleams already shining everywhere.

He was coming. 

You could feel him, souls trembling from being so far apart. 

He was coming, from the depths of the world. 

And all you could feel was him, deep in your bones. It was pulling at your insides, like the ocean draining away the waves before a tsunami. Inexorably drawn in, subject to a force too violent, that would engulf everything. You could hear his voice, loud in your head. 

He was coming, and as his wings struck the Surface sky, snow started to fall upon forgotten lands. 

He was coming, and with him, eternal winter.

Everything he saw, you saw in turn through his eyes. It was as if you were guiding his steps, as if you were the only one who could show him the way, towards the fire, towards the blood-soaked lands, towards destruction. As if you were the only one who could call him to you.

You could see the scenery flash before his eyes. As familiar landscapes appeared before him, you recognized them - you knew them from a dream. You knew them, but not from so high up in the sky. Then, you saw a mountain, you saw a cliff, edged by pines. From above, you saw the path, the one going towards the house. You saw traces of steps, hundreds of them, as engraved in the ground. 

Great wings beating hard, shattering the opaque air - everything was denser, darker that you knew. The world was bathed in an acrid smoke, which clung to the eyes and embedded itself inside the lungs. And when his eyes fell upon where the house was supposed to be, there was nothing but a raging fire. There was the shape of a house, there were memories of what it used to be. 

And the fire was burning everything. The stone walls had exploded under the weight of the burning old frame, sending huge embers crashing down. There was no floor, there was no roof anymore. Fire devoured everything. 

He knew. 

He knew it was here that it all took place. He could feel it as well, the pain enfolding, the distress coming from deep within his soul. He stayed there, above the blaze, staring at the flames, before closing his eyes for a moment, trying to focus.

“This way…”

His eyes glanced towards the forest. 

Silver wings started beating harder the air all around, making the treetops tremble and blowing the dust off the ground. There was no pain, all movements smooth and natural. Only stinging in his chest, sorrow, devouring and insidious. Only a voice, pulling from inside. 

Carefully, he set a foot on the Surface’s grounds. He took a step - and you could feel the dirt under the sole of his feet as if it were you who had walked. 

He was not frightened. He was not lost and confused as you once was; he moved forward, head high, wings wide open, invested with a purpose. And perhaps, in his walk, a certain habit emerged, that of treading the dust of the Surface. He started walking towards the forest, through the path of those woods you knew too well. And behind him, the blaze ran out of steam, the scorching flames suddenly feverish. The embers died slowly, devoid of heat. Frost already absorbing everything.

And with him, the world plunged in winter. 

Everything was still. Everything was immobile. Yet, there was a thing luring him forward, hasty and restless. A silent cry guiding him towards a familiar soul, towards a missing piece of himself.

And as he walked, the world died quietly. 

Through the trees, he passed by the mortals and their torches and their guns. Everything was still. The moment on hold. He passed by them, and their torches went out as he walked. He passed by them, and their bodies collapsed on the ground. 

That was the cost for laying eyes on a child of Ymir. That was the cost, for considering spilling their blood. He kept on walking, and as he did, lifeless bodies fell onto the ground, skin cold and death freezing on their lips.

Finally, he stepped into a clearing.

And as he walked upon the Surface, he recognized it, just like you did when you first saw it. A Temple to Ymir. The colonnades were still there but enclosed by walls. It was washed from its vivid colors, stained-glass shattered into a million pieces. 

He had always thought they all had been destroyed, all those centuries ago. That none of them still stood on their ground. But it was here, it was real. The last piece of the puzzle. - hidden away and forgotten. 

His eyes eventually fell on the shape of a body, lying in the high grass.

It was dressed in black, elongated limbs squeezed into a movement, twisting a body too tall. And only as he got closer, he saw the opaline face framed by light hair. 

At the sight of the face, something arose in him. Powerful, too raw for him to contain. It tasted like anger. Like a senseless hatred clouding his own judgment. A mirror to your emotions, mixed with his. It took him a moment to collect himself. To suppress it all.

As he stood there, he observed the mortal, the bloodstains on her untidy clothes. There had been a struggle, her collar had been tugged until it was torn. Her arm was stretched out, a broken wrist, reaching towards something. A little further away was a gun.

It was a cursed soul still throbbing in a broken body.  

He closed his eyes. You felt the sigh on his lips as he turned away from her.

And snowflakes crashed against the bruises on her face. Her breath died in the cold.

“This is it,” he thought. This was the cost they had to pay. The sweet liberation of death.

And as he walked closer towards the Temple, the pulling at his chest became stronger, like a pulse, pounding harder with each step. 

He abruptly stopped. 

All around him, late autumn flowers were stained in red.

Another body laid there, at his feet. 

A boy, he saw, his eyes closed, corners still wet from tears - they had marked his face in such a delicate way, wet trails, drawing sinuous paths on his dusty cheeks. Yet the fragility of the moment did not capture what was really on the young face. It was the pain engraved on the features. This was a boy, only a boy.

His white garment was pierced in a single place, right below his heart. From there, life had escaped, in a wake of blood, thick arabesques. A single shot, a fatal wound.

There was nothing there. A fragile life already gone. But there, against his clothes, were feathers. 

And so, he knelt beside the boy. Carefully, he brought his hand to the cold face. 

He didn’t know what compelled him to do so. He couldn’t fathom why there was such sorrow, why it made him sick to just look at him. Why it angered him so much. As his fingers skimmed over his frozen skin, he took away the grief and the pain from his soul. Freed him. When he finally stood up, his hands were shaking.

Time was ticking away dangerously. The seconds hanging in the hourglass, flowing dangerously to the bottom. His power was waning, quivering on his forgotten land - like a torn fabric, letting the grains of sand of an endless desert creep in. There was no time for grief, no time for mourning. It was here, so close. But there was no one else in the clearing. Yet he knew what he was looking for. He knew you were here. 

In the grass, under his feet, stains of blood. Blood everywhere. He followed it, and with each step, the sole of his feet turned scarlet. He walked in the shattered glass, towards the Temple. It had to be there. 

The facade was decrepit, the limestone ancient and stained by time. There were a few steps leading to a stoop, dug by the weight of the millions of feet having one day climbed the stairs. He stopped in front of a door that had been left ajar. It creaked as he pushed it open.

A few seconds passed, for his eyes to get used to the darkness. For his mind to capture what was inside. Pews, and dust floating around. An altar lit up by the sky. There was a gaping hole in the ceiling. The light coming from the sky was gray, the pale sun of the Surface hidden by dark clouds.

On the marble floor, footprints led behind the altar. 

He took a few steps, his own heart pounding harder than ever.

There, there was a shadow, the shape of bodies tangled together on the floor. Step after step, he walked towards them.

He discerned a mortal man. His back to him, body bent - every bone in his spine showing through his bare skin. It was a vulnerable position, to the slightest blow. His head was low - resting against the body in his arms, and his forearms were covered in blood. His face couldn’t be seen, only the strands of flaxen hair falling on the side of his face. He was holding someone tight, covering their face with one hand, as if trying to stop the blood from running away. 

It hurt. It was agony, just to look at the scene. The despair in which he was lost. The preciousness of the one within his arms. How willing he was to give everything away for a fragment of life.

And as he stepped closer, the attraction suddenly snapped within him. 

In his arms, there was you.

Finally, you thought - and it echoed in Levi’s mind.

“Finally, I found you,” he said.

“Finally, you came,” you said.

And you watched as he knelt down in front of you.

You watched what he saw. You heard what he thought. That mortal, blood spilling and spreading over his fingers. That impudent man, daring to touch you. That insolent creature, doomed for eternity for having laid his eyes upon you. 

But all you could see was a broken man, trying to make sense out of the chaos. A man, trying his best to survive. A little boy turned into a soldier, still believing that life was something to protect. A boy, trying to heal a wounded being. All you could see was Zeke. Zeke holding your dying body in his arms. All you saw was the distress on his face, the tears on his cheeks. Your Zeke, alone in the darkness. Losing everything all over again. 

You would have liked to reach out to him, to his body, to his skin. You would have liked to hold him tight, there, against your heart. You would have liked to cry out, to mourn the justice of this world. But you were a mere spectator of the horror, a messenger of a destiny about to collapse, the witness of a last moment. And Levi's hands remained still at his side. 

“He never should have touched you,” Levi said, and you couldn’t see his face as he spoke.

All you could see was Zeke. 

And if it was not love that you saw, you were the most miserable being in this universe. Because it was in the way he was holding you, so dearly, when there was no hope. It was in that pain, a gaping hole that you could feel resonate everywhere.

When Levi eventually made a movement, his hands came to you. Abruptly, he tore you out of his arms, out of his embrace. Zeke's body remained there, kneeling and broken, as if petrified, while you were already moving away from the warmth of his arms.

He carried you towards the altar, where the light was coming from the sky. There, he could almost feel the wind on his face.

“That’s where I fell,” you murmured in his mind.

“I searched for you everywhere,” he whispered. “I searched in every sea, every ocean, in every bottomless abysses. On every battlefield I went, and among the bodies of dead soldiers, I was looking for you.” 

“I waited for you to come. But you never did.”

Through his eyes, you watched as Levi looked at your face, as if for the first time. He looked at the wound. He may have winced. You understood the fire and the blood covered world. You understood that she had aimed at your face. 

With the softest caress, he touched your forehead. 

And then, like a song played in reverse, he watched as the wound healed by his touch, as the blood flowed in reverse and as your skin closed under his skin, like sand blown by the wind. He waited, for what seemed hundreds of years, until your mind would let go of his.

He felt it giving in. He felt your skin getting warmer under his fingers. He watched as you opened your eyes. 

The prettiest eyes he had ever seen.

And when you opened your eyes - heavy, so heavy - Levi was here, before you. 

It was him, truly him. His face so real - and the joy of finally remembering washed over you. All the memories came back, as if you had run after them after they had started to evaporate. It was like chasing the birds in the sky, like cupping the butterflies in your hands before they were to flutter too high. 

You sighed with ease.

“But you’re here now,” you whispered.

And his eyes, that silver color that always made you feel safe, suddenly closed. Long and dark lashes, drawing shadows on his cheeks. 

When he opened his eyes again, they were shining bright. His jet black hair, always carefully tucked behind his ears, were falling on his cheekbones, hiding the sight of him.

“I thought I had lost you.”

You didn't let go of him while he told you, you had to hold him, always, never letting him go. He stayed like that. He talked. He talked, talked to himself. You listened attentively to a somewhat incoherent monologue, without importance. As for you, you listened to his memory starting up, apprehending hollow forms that made sense only for him, if you considered the memories ones to the others - like a game with lost rules.

You had waited for this for so long. So long, to hear the sound of his voice, the sweet ricochet of your names on his tongue. He said it again, and again and again, to make sure that it was true. That it was real. That you were real. 

It was real.

All of this was real. And it hit you, like a slap across the face. That it was all real, that outside, there was nothing but blood under the snow-covered world.

Your eyes suddenly snapped back towards Zeke. There, his body still in the darkness, frozen in time. 

Before you could say a word, Levi mumbled against your shoulder, “Let’s go home.”

Home. 

You had dreamt of those words. You had dreamt of it. 

There had been so many sleepless nights. So many questions, so much anguish. What if no one ever comes? What if they all forgot about me too?

But then had come the truth. The sacred texts and the strange beliefs. Then came affection and warmth. And with that truth, came peace. 

It was impossible. You could not leave everything there, not like that. Not yet. 

“I can’t,” you said.

Levi’s head jerked up, to stare at your face. 

“What?” His face was stoic, only the furrow of his forehead betrayed his thoughts.

“I can’t go back, after being here for so long.”

“Yes, you can.”

“No, Levi, I can’t.”

Suddenly, Levi stood straight. For a moment, you looked into each other's eyes. 

“What do you mean?” he asked, and his eyes were fixed in yours, looking for a sign, for an explanation. The weight of the words hard to grasp. “Is it because of me? Is it because I couldn’t find you?”

And you wanted to tell him it was all right, that it was not his fault. But that would have been a lie. If he had come sooner, things would have been different, perhaps. If you had known the truth, all along, things wouldn’t have been the same. It was not his fault, neither was it yours. It was just the world you were born in.

Carefully stroking the side of his face, you said, “I can’t leave him there.” 

And with these words, you slowly parted from his body. You walked around the altar, in this moment suspended between those two worlds. You knelt down in front of the man that had held you, the one that had kept you alive. The one that swore to protect you. 

Zeke’s face was imbued with such great despair. His sweet face, stained with blood and loss. And you wanted nothing more than to hold him in your arms, for eternity. To make sure he was safe, and that life was treating him fairly. That those wounds he had suffered wouldn’t kill him. That nobody would hurt him more than he already was. 

“I can’t leave him like that,” you whispered.

Selfishly, you would have thought that he would understand. Surely, he would understand. Surely there was hope. You looked up at Levi.

But his eyes were shining with something dark. All these emotions on his face, they were all new. 

He had stood up from where he was. He took a step. And as he walked, his face lowered dangerously. Snowflakes slid slowly behind him, across the ceiling.

“What did he do to you?” And his words were nothing but a deep whisper. A warning.

You stayed there, knees against the cold stone, in this Temple forgotten by time.

Some part of you wanted to rush towards him, to grab his hands. Words formed on your lips, around your tongue, excuses, only excuses - trying in vain to find something to say. Something to make him understand, quickly, something to erase that look of pure disgust. Something to bring him back to you. Something to make sure he was the same, and you were the same, and nothing had to change. Anything.

Nothing but the truth came out of your mouth.

“He saved me. He saved me when no one else did.”

He was getting closer, eyes dark. Inside your chest, you felt your heart for the first time in forever, pounding too hard.

“I gave him everything I had because he was the sole reason I was alive. Because he was torn and fragile and he showed me love like no one else ever did-...”

One syllable, filled with rage. It echoed everywhere. A beast’s roar. He yelled, a single word.  In denial.

At that very moment, you thought “So it’s all true.”

Not only Zeke had been right. Humanity was.

Because you saw something in his eyes. Something so violent, so sharp, you felt it piercing through your heart. You saw it all, glimpses of things you would have never imagined running upon his face. He was looking straight through you, and all you could see was it - the violence of his stare.

So you led in, caught Zeke’s body, brought him against your chest. Your hands tightened around his shoulders as you looked back at Levi. 

But before you were nothing but these silver eyes. Gleaming back at you, casting a gloom over the world all around. In his back, glorious wings, stretched open, so wide, wider than you could even remember. Taking all the space between those walls. Hiding away the sunlight. 

Those wings, taking him places you could never have imagined. Always, always shining so bright. But the truth was covered in blood.

Humanity had been right all along. Their stories might have been different from the ones you’d been taught, but they were right. All you knew was nothing but fabricated lies.

It was true, yet very violent to fathom. But as you stood there, kneeling in front of this man, you suddenly understood.

What they meant, all this time.

That Levi was the Angel of death.

It was a stranger standing before you. It was a threat; it was an enemy. All that you could see was death in his eyes. It was hatred and disgust. And you never really knew him. 

You never really knew anyone. Because they kept on lying and lying and lying to you, about the Surface and the world and Mankind. You weren’t even sure that you could fly nor that the pristine halls of Paradis ever existed. 

Seconds went by, and you were nothing but a mere child under his stare. You could have cried, pleaded, and begged, but did none of it. You felt sick in your stomach. On the verge of dying.

It was as if you had forgotten how to breathe. As if your own life was running through your fingers. As if he knew everything, every fragment of your soul and your deepest desires. And under his stare, there was nothing, nothing, you could do. Those eyes you remembered so full of affection were long gone. Standing before you, a man you’d never seen before. There was so much to ask, so much to confront, the contradictions and the lies. But you were quick to realize, at this moment, that the Goddess never made gentle children. 

All of you were sinners, as your once humanity cursed you to be. 

Savage brothers and sisters.

Five words echoed in the Temple. Through his gritted teeth, spitted out like venom, he pronounced five words, enough to ground you back into the world.

“I will slice his throat.”

And there was no such thing as pity in his eyes. His jaw was set, the joints of his fingers going white around the grip of a blade - a weapon you suddenly remembered him wielding. Long and sharp, beveled blade. Holy weapons, called to their bearer side by their will only, granted by the Goddess Herself to Her children.

It all came back to you. The day of the attack. What happened before the fall. 

You remembered coming out of a stupor when the first blow sounded against the doors, echoing in the empty and quiet halls. Before you knew it, you were standing in front of them, so massive, your spear in your hands. 

You remembered fighting with your own weapon. Sharper and deadlier than an arrow. Piercing the flesh, nailing the bodies to the ground. All of it, so vividly, the blows knocking them down. It was something you knew how to do. It was something engraved within you.

In your back, wings started fluttering painlessly. You raised your head to him, ignoring the blurred world all around you. And instead of the shaking words you thought you'd pronounce, there was a raging shout.

“Then I’ll kill you.”

His wings began to beat, blowing the dust and flakes into your face. But instead of keeping your head down in front of him, in front of his power and strength, you stood up, Zeke's body heavy in your arms. There, right up against you. Where nothing could ever take him away.

“I'll bleed you with my own hands on those cursed grounds if you take one more step.”

Levi was staring at you, his disgusted eyes everywhere on you, glaring at the man in your arms. He took another step. 

You imagined it, his blade slicing Zeke’s throat. His life over forever, and being the one responsible for it. Not fighting for what you wanted, for what you deemed right, was out of question.

“I said stop!”

And it was more than a shout this time. It almost took you aback, the sheer force of it, the vibrant and unbreakable words. 

An inexorable command to which every being would yield.

And Levi stopped dead in his tracks. The beating of his wings suddenly lagged, bringing to a halt the storm around you. Immobile in turn, in this in-between plan of the universe which seemed to be his alone. 

Every muscle on his face was twitching, betraying an anger so great that his forced stillness couldn't contain. He was fighting it, trying to break free from you. Struggling to even speak. In his hand, the blade of his weapon was trembling imperceptibly under the pressure of his fingers.

But you were no match before him. He was pure strength and determination, and you knew that whatever prevented him from hurling himself at you, would soon break. At any moment, the imposed balance would shatter. At any moment, he would win the fight. Soon, he would be on you, deadly blade slicing loved fleshes.

And you, you had to remember how to fight. You had to remember how to use the weapon the Goddess once gave you. You just had to call it.

You looked down at Zeke in your arms, his face still, his sorrow engraved behind his closed eyelids. There was no surrender. There was no acceptable ending where you were to leave him. There was just no path where you didn’t live to love him. You weren't giving up on him. 

Slowly, in your mind, you remembered the touch of it, the touch of your fingers against the wooden handle. That weapon of yours, light and piercing. A spear like no other. You remembered yourself, your childish hands turned towards the Goddess, in which She had placed a weapon too big, too heavy. Too deadly. You remembered the naturalness of its throw, the extension of your arm. You remembered the bodies collapsing under its whistle, the sharp, vivid rip in the air.

You could almost feel it in your hand. Its weight, its sensation. It was almost there, crawling under the skin of your hand.

You tried, you really tried. You thought you could do it. 

But nothing came when you called.

Your eyes snapped open at Levi’s voice breaking the silence.

“You don’t know what you’ve done.”

At your side, your hand remained empty. 

And there was no reasoning with him. You could read it all upon his face. He had already tipped over somewhere unreachable, abandoned to panic and disgust. Fighting to get the upper hand - trying to break whatever compelled him to remain immobile. 

What you had done, no one could ever understand. Not even him. That love he once had for you - was not for the one standing before him, brave and desirous. It was for the child you used to be, lost and drowsy by eternity. What you had done could be drowned by excuses, but would never be enough for him to understand. 

“I lived,” you answered him, and it all came out like a river in spate, “I tried to live! And you are not allowed to blame me for it. I wanted all the things I thought I never needed, all the things of which I had been deprived. I only wanted my life back, that’s all I ever did. I denied it all for so long, but I had to fall, didn’t I? I guess I had to fall, to find my place among the ashes.”

His face twisted into a wince, his whole body shaking with rage. “You let this swine corrupt you,” he snapped back at you. “For what? For the fleeting feeling of being alive? You let him touch you, you let him-…"

"You don't know a hundredth of what we've done! You don't know anything!”

“Oh, but I know everything! I know what you have done, you idiot!”

“Why does it matter to you? You all thought I was dead! Would have it been better if I were dead?”

“Our fleshes are sacred! Ymir made us who we are so we could watch over this world, not to get our hands dirty with it!”

“And yet she let it rot!” you shouted, and as you spoke, you held Zeke’s body tighter. “She let her own children die and suffer in wars so old they forgot why they even fought in the first place. You think because she saved a handful of us, thousands of years ago, she is a fair ruler?”

“Look outside! Look at what they did to you! They are the ones to blame for all of this.”

“Are they really?”

Were they really to blame, while abandoned by the goddess for millennia, they had to rebuild a world gone up in smoke, growing up upon lands stained by blood. This hatred, like a heritage of a godless people, was not making any sense.

Yet everything had emanated from her.

Ymir, the Mother of all things, was the starting point of everything; the world’s creator, its protector and its only Goddess. 

But she had chosen to destroy it, while Mankind, jealous of her eternity and power, had defiled the ground of Paradis. She was the one who had cursed them, who had turned the verdurous lands of her own world upside down and made the oceans spit fire. She was the one who had torn the sky from the surface, promising forever to watch her children kill each other on once fertile lands. 

She was the one who taught you how to fear and how to hate. She was the one who showed you how to kill. She had been the one responsible for destroying everything, and eventually - for cursing them.

“Do you think the diluted hatred in their blood is truly theirs? Can’t you see that this,” and you waved at the world around you, at the ruins of this temple, at the corpses in the grass, at the smoke in the sky, “is not our legacy? 

“This is the cost they have to pay.” The gravel of his voice. Everywhere. Embroidering under your skin. 

“And I refuse to stand there as she keeps on murdering the children of her children. I refuse to remain silent in the face of her atrocity.”

A grimace of pain flashed on his face as he said, “She made you who you are. She gave Her own life to have you live.”

“And how many did she make you take?” you spitted. “How much did it cost you?”

His face fell. For the first time, he looked at you in disbelief.

Because he knew that you weren’t supposed to know. He knew those heavy secrets kept away from you. And that his mere purpose in this world was one of them.

“How-...”

“Would it be easier? Tell me, Angel of death, would it be easier to hide it?”

“Don’t call me that, you don’t know-...”

“What else must I know to understand? Don’t you dare tell me about this goddess of ours. Don’t you dare tell me she has been fair to you.”

“I accepted my duties. I didn’t do it to help Her. I did it to survive.”

“Or else what?” And you watched, you watched as he stood there, looking for an answer, looking for the words that would sound right. 

You would never have known, never, all the power that truth contained, how it could turn the game around, until you held it in the palm of your hand.

“She would have gotten rid of you, Levi. Like she got rid of me.”

“No.”

“She would have made your wings wither and exiled you to the end of the world, where the bloodthirst of Mankind is as great as on the first day of the Holy Wars. She would have ripped away your memories and stifled your cries for help.”

“This is not what happened.”

You were here for a reason. Because she knew that no one would ever come here, as all of you had forgotten about this place. Because this was nothing but a punishment. The only one of her children who did not know how to fly, fallen from Paradis. 

“What happened then? Has she not shaped this world with her own hands? What could have happened for a goddess to forget about her own child? So tell me, Levi. What was her purpose? How could the master of all things have failed in her duties without ever alarming us?”

You straighten yourself up, spreading your feet below your hips as you adjust Zeke’s weight in your arms. In your back, wings shrugged, waiting for an answer that never came.

“She’s tired of this world,” you said, slowly, “bored of her creation. There is no blood anymore, no prayers, no mourners pleading her name. Mankind has evolved. They kill themselves with weapons she could never have given them. 

Can't you see that she is no longer amused? She doesn't need it anymore. She created mankind for her pleasure, for her own pure enjoyment. And while the gods never get bored, she got bored with the suffering of her playthings. 

She’s trying to get rid of it. She enslaved her most powerful children, sending them to kill themselves in cruel and aimless labor - while the useless ones she abandons to the edge of the world. She turned the most powerful of them all into an obedient little soldier, while the rest of us went numb in hollowness. This is only the beginning - it takes time to erase and start again. The only purpose she has been pursuing was to get rid of this world. And whether you like it or not, we are part of it.”

And right as you spoke, the balance broke.

Except it was not because he fought back, because his power had broken the weight of the order. It was because he surrendered. 

He flinched back.

Behind you, all around you, the deafening sound of something shattering sounded. It was coming from the sky, from deep within the earth. Your eyes snapped toward the gaping hole in the ceiling, and from there, you could see immense cracks tearing the gray sky.

“There is no time left,” Levi said, and your eyes snapped back at him. He sounded so flat, as if none of it was affecting him anymore.

It was about to break. This quiet word you were all plunged in. Soon, the winter was to be over. 

“Just let me go,” you said in a whisper, voice suddenly quivering.

His eyes were turned towards the destroyed ceiling. He wasn't looking at you anymore, anger and disgust gone. On his face, only deception could be seen. And as he spoke, his eyes remained fixed towards the gray sky.

“I won’t leave you here.”

“You can leave us here, you can forget about me!”

But he was not listening anymore. He was not fighting back. 

“Come home with me,” he said.

“It’s not home. It never was.,”

“Stop it. Please,” he said, and his eyes fell to the ground between the two of you. Something in his voice was urgent. And in his back, his silver wings resumed their flutter.

“I’m begging you, just leave me here,” you were shaking your head. You were pleading. 

He took a step forward.

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can!” you shouted. Zeke’s body was tight against your chest, the warm scent of his life against your skin, “Just leave me here, as if you had never found me!”

His wings flared out.

It was like witnessing the return of spring, the moist heat rising to your cheeks, the world suddenly overflowing, full of scents, too much heat. It was like watching the world regain its colors, after being plunged in the dark for so long.

Only it was terrifying. It was the last grain of sand in the hourglass, about to be swallowed down. It was not a rebirth of any kind. It was the return of something that meant the end. It was the bodies outside that would finally die, where the winter had taken everything. It was the end.

He didn’t answer, sweeping a cold stare across your face. So heavy of meaning, the disappointment palpable. Under it, you slightly flinched, its weight more meaningful than a thousand words.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

And suddenly everything around you was pitch black. All that was to be seen were his two silver eyes. Transfixed on you. 

You felt it coming, dryness drawing on your eyes. 

Everything was dark, and he was everywhere, silver eyes shining so intensely that you couldn't take your eyes off, a too brutal attraction. It was like being dragged against your will into lands too far away to ever imagine. A rapture that meant the end. You were not to blink or it was over.

Don’t close your eyes. 

In your arms, Zeke made a movement. His body was coming back to life, warm and clammy.

You felt him regain consciousness. Then, you heard the sweet sound of his voice. A mumble, his weight adjusting, trying to straighten up. You felt his hand, sliding down your shoulder. He called for you, his voice exhausted. He whispered “love?" against your neck.

And yet you could not take your eyes off death.

When you leaned in, grabbing his face with one of your hands, your eyes couldn't avert the unyielding silver colored eyes. He was getting closer. It was too late. 

"Listen to me, Zeke. Listen to me carefully."

Not yet. Don’t blink.

You tried to resist, but all of it, it was too strong, swallowing you whole, towards unescapable halls. There was nothing, nothing you could do.

“You have to swear,” you said, voice broken, echoing faintly, “Swear that you will keep your eyes closed.”

Or it’s all over. 

Before you, only the blade of his eyes. There, so close, inevitable. Already engulfing everything. And it hurt, hurt so sharply, eyes burning from resisting, from standing up against him.

You would have liked so badly, one last time, to see the blue of his eyes, the tempestuous color of the ocean. To lose yourself in their vastness.

There was no ending of your story where you were to leave him.

“What you will see will only kill you.”

[l1zk4]

Can someone, please, recommend me some #zeke yeager x reader fics? It can also be one-shots, some headcanons you find interesting, anything. Preferably something without smut or if there is some, it's not the main focus of the story. I'd really appreciate it, thanks :))

[girlunknownsblog]

What would your dress be if you went out with the SNK boys ? MODERN WORLD

✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･*✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･*❃.✮:▹　◃:✮.❃

Eren Jäeger :

Armin Arlet :

Jean Kirschtein :

Levi Ackerman :

Erwin Smith :

Reiner Braun :

Berthold Hoover :

Porco Galliard :

Zeke Jäeger :

✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･*✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･*❃.✮:▹　◃:✮.❃

Hey i hope you are doing well all the photos are from Pinterest ❤️

Take care of you all. Luv ya.

All of the pictures come from ✨️ Pinterest ✨️

✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･*✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･*❃.✮:▹　◃:✮.❃

[jjkeremika]

AoT men confess their love for you

i.e., how i think they’d tell you they love you

reader x Eren, Jean, Armin, Reiner, Porco, Erwin, Levi, Zeke, Bertoldt

*unspecified gender reader*

Eren - blurts it out during sex and you can’t convince me otherwise

You and Eren weren’t really dating, per se… more like… hooking up behind your best friend’s back. The fact that Mikasa was his sister and your best friend was enough to keep both your urges at bay for a few months, but when she left for summer camp and he stayed behind, leaving just you two to keep each other company… well… things took on a life of their own.

So for the whole summer you and Eren gallivanted around the districts over, going on unlabelled dates and hiding from those (Armin, Jean) who just might tell Mikasa about the tryst, because maybe telling her was just too fast or too complicated for the easy and noncommittal situationship.

Which felt like exactly that… until you were bouncing on his cock in the back of his car, his mouth attached to your neck and your fingers curled in his hair. He thrusted upwards, evoking a loud moan from you, when Eren suddenly blurted out, “I think I love you,” with a hearty breath, his hips never stuttering as he kept the motion, his mouth compensating for the words by pressing to your neck.

Maybe it was time to call your best friend.

Jean - it slips out and he tries to deflect it but you already knew

You met Jean during volunteer community service, where you and the awkwardly-tall brunette would leisurely walk around the districts and collect litter. The first day everyone was set off in pairs, you two randomly assigned to wander the same district, and you both actively decided to group together every time after that.

Your conversations were rarely of any importance, mostly letting it serve as either a way to pass time or to express feelings and opinions about people the other doesn't know. At first, he talked an awfully lot about some woman who you weren't sure from his stories if she even knew he existed. Over the months of service together, he stopped bringing her up and started talking about this other person of interest instead.

His cheeks and ears turned bright pink whenever you'd ask about how he met this person, usually providing some vague and nondeterministic answer that honestly left you more confused than before. Some stuttered-out answers and a few too-similar-to-your-own interests later, you had a deep suspicion and debated how to delve it out of him.

It wasn't very hard. One week before the holiday break you two were wandering around, discussing future plans with friends and family for the upcoming holiday. "Are you excited for the break?" you asked, nudging his side with your elbow. "Huh?" he responded curiously, "Oh, I... Yeah, I guess." You snorted in response, "Sounds like it. C'mon, the holiday is a time for being with your love ones! Isn't that exciting?"

"But I only see them not on break, during volunteerin--" It was almost like he'd forgotten who he was speaking to, and his entire face erupted in various shades of pinks and reds, maybe even a light purple from the lack of breathing. He was internally kicking himself, berating himself for being so loose and stupid around you, for always struggling to think around you. He was oblivious to the smile on your face. "I, uh, because, I... love volunteering... so much."

Armin - tells you he's in love with you because you've changed his life (he’s poetic without meaning to be)

Armin was unusual from other men you’ve dated. Height aside, he was very in touch with his emotions, intelligent, and capable; but he tormented himself with baseless insecurities and unfounded truths until all of his perks were equally weighed down by his shortcomings. He’d bring himself down until he was impossibly low, until his opinion of himself couldn’t get lower.

He was depressed when you first met, his friends warning you that maybe it was beyond you, that it wasn’t your responsibility anyway. You knew that, of course, but it was Armin, and it’s difficult to watch sunshine be forced behind endless seas of clouds. So you’d remind him as much as possible to be kinder to himself, to speak to himself positively since he’s the only one who he will spend forever with.

It wasn’t a surprise when your relationship advanced; the effort and care you put in him nurtured feelings beyond friendship. The warmth spread inside him like a wildfire from a lit match in dry brush, and he found himself favoring you over any form of logic or reason.

It was a random weekday when he pulled you aside, trying to make time for a brief 5 minute date between lessons. He seemed nervous, which wasn’t necessarily odd, but he’d become significantly more comfortable around you over the years. “I, uh,” he started unsurely, hesitantly, “You mean so much to me. I can't imagine this life without you. I..." He crossed his forearm over his stomach as he anchored his shaky hand on the inside of his other arm's elbow, holding it tightly to stop his body from shaking as he angelically stared into your eyes. "I’m in love with you. And I don’t mean that poetically or sexually or theoretically or logically or figuratively or ideologically or any of that. I mean it literally. I am in love with you.”

Reiner - tried to act like he didn’t care but he was really invested in your response

You had been casually dating around when you first met Reiner, the tall bulky blond with the bordering-arrogant demeanor having approached you at the bar while your date was in the bathroom. He had a confident smirk plastered across his cheeks as he said, “You know, my wallet has been itching to buy the most stunning person in this room a drink, and, well, I think I’ve found them.”

It shouldn’t have worked but you’d had a few drinks already and a new heat burned in your abdomen and he was significantly more attractive than your current date, so you accepted his invitation to buy you a new drink and take the seat. A second first date of the night, completed with a quick fuck in the bathroom and at home.

Your relationship progressed smoothly from then on, with a heavy positive emphasis in the bedroom. And while neither of you ever clarified the relationship and asked if it was official, your eyes and lips and privates were so glued to each other there was no peripheral for any one else. Which was why, while Reiner never explicitly stated how he felt for you aside from daily comments--"My god, baby, you are so sexy,"; "Mmf, you make me feel too fucking good, darlin', fuck,"; "Sexiest person alive, yeah. you already know I'm speaking about you and your smart sexy ass,"--you were never really that worried anyway.

So when you two were laying on your backs in the bed, side-by-side, chest heaving to catch your breaths, and the words slipped from his mouth post-coitus, "Fuck, darlin', I love you," you were shocked, and a, "What did you say?" slipped from your mouth before you could process. He bit the inside of his lip and felt a nervous weightlessness erupt in his stomach. Reiner shrugged and sat upright, blocking his face from your view with his back. "Huh? Didn't hear me?" Reiner asked, forcing his voice to remain confident and steady, and turned to look at you briefly before stirring to stand up. He shrugged, the inside of his cheek rough and chewed up like a dog-toy. "I just said I love you. It's not a... big deal."

Porco - says it like a joke so you aren’t totally sure if he means it

Galliard was your best guy friend, joining you anywhere you didn’t want to go alone and cracking jokes to lighten the mood. He was really good at that, making you laugh, and he couldn’t deny that the sound was like music to his ears, magical notes strung together to create the most beautiful song he’d ever heard.

It was exactly because of how close you two were that both of you feared doing exactly what you wanted the other to do—make the first move. And because it was the other one, every flirty touch or suggestive comments were stripped of all intention, because there’s just no way the best friend would ever be into them too. Instead, it was personally replaced with sarcastic or playful undertones and purposeful reminders of feelings that didn’t exist.

You had convinced him to go to the lake with you, which your friends conveniently bailed on so that it really was just you two. Porco had hopped into your kayak from the dock, taking you by surprise and fearing a capsize. “Porco!” you screamed, giggling, holding onto the edge of the kayak, “What’s wrong with your own kayak? Desperately trying to get close to me?”

You watched the adam’s apple bob in his throat as he swallowed intently, like he was carefully choosing when to breathe and what to say. “Haha, yeah,” he settled on, forcing himself to chuckle lightly, his voice littered with nuanced feelings he couldn’t bring himself to say confidently, “because I’m definitely in love with you…” You noticed Porco’s lack of eye contact, that he was now looking far off into the distance. “Or something like that,” he joked nervously, wiping his sweaty palms against his thighs as he sat down behind you, hoping you couldn’t see through his charade.

Erwin (age gap) - planned it out but everything didn’t go to plan

After six months together, Erwin already knew how strongly he felt towards you. You were everything he could’ve hoped for and everything he’d waited for. He already knew he wanted you as his future spouse (eventually, he knew you weren’t ready to marry). And so he wanted the moment he told you how he felt to be special to you, to be as special as you were to him.

Erwin had your six-month anniversary date planned out to the T: first, a leisurely walk around the park; second, a quick stop at a couple of your favorite shops nearby to browse and buy you a gift (or gifts, really, he’d buy whatever you wanted); third, stop in at the new bistro you’ve been dying to try—“Ooh, Winnie, look, look! We have to go there!”; fourth, walk around and watch the stars until your feet were sore and he could carry you home.

A sudden rainstorm ruined the walk, forcing both of you to run for cover under some trees for quite some time until it passed. Once the rain finally stopped, it was too close to the dinner reservation time to stop in at the shops, and he shuttled you to the bistro. You were both sat next to a loud family with screaming children, barely able to hear the other speak the entire time, staring at each other with morose smiles while munching on mediocre food. The stars hid behind thick dark clouds as you both walked home, and Erwin felt too defeated to ask to carry you because you were finally enjoying that brisk walk.

At your doorstep, when he profusely apologized for ruining your anniversary date—“Ernie, seriously? Stop apologizing! You can’t control the weather! And the restaurant was my idea anyway.” The frown lines on his face deepened and twisted in morose. “No, that’s not…” he sighed, upset that nothing had gone to plan, “I wanted everything to be the perfect night for my perfect person, a wonderful night solely for the one I love…” he added in a whisper, “…and I messed it all up.”

Inviting him felt like the only way to reverse his thoughts, to make him realize that, despite everything he considered so wrong, it was all so correctly wrong to you it may as well have been perfect.

Levi - thinks it should be obvious since he’s still with you

It was about subtlety when dating Levi. At least, that’s what you’d figured out in the year you’ve been together. His face was relatively expressionless, so you’d learned to read his body language, but you honestly worried you’d never be fluent, because you still questioned the presence or validity of his feelings for you on some days.

He said it once, that he felt deeply for you on the day he asked you out. He repeated it on your six-month anniversary, when you asked if he still felt that way and he answered with a monotoned, “Well, yeah. Obviously. I thought it was implied since we’re together and all.”

Your favorite version of him was when he was sleepy, when he was too tired to keep his protective walls up, because he was cuddly and cozy and craved nothing but your presence and warmth and actively showered you with soft kisses.

It was when his guard was down like this that you asked him, on your one-year, if he still felt the same—shielding the fear of his answer by joking that you’ll ask him every six months—and he rolled his eyes playfully and chuckled, wrapping his arm tighter around you, kissing your cheek, and muttering, “Yes, love, and I’ll give you the same answer six months, six years, and six centuries from now.”

Zeke - writes you a love letter (unlike armin he tries to be poetic)

Zeke was into you well before you even started to reciprocate those feelings. There was something so enigmatic about you, a light airy aura that made him feel buoyant, that unchained him from the burden of his father’s wants and wishes. In his eyes, you saved him.

For a debt he felt he could never repay, he always brought you flowers and sweets and gifts; he wrote long poems detailing that your beauty was beyond all beholders, that you put the sun to shame, that you were the spark to start his supernova; he sent you good morning beautiful and sweet dreams baby texts, hoping you started and ended your day with a smile.

After a couple months of exclusive dating, he wrote you a love letter, expressing the extent of what you meant to him—the burning shape of you etched permanently in his heart—, handing it to you with a deep red stretched across his face and asking you to read it privately, to share it with no one.

My dearest beloved, I write as I know my tongue will fail me, reminiscent of all previous attempts where my lips part and only whimsy air escapes. Remember those moments, my dear? How you'd don a concerned expression and question me in my flustered state. Oh, how futile the intention feels when my spiritual body abandons me, rendering my physical body utterly useless in translation as my stoic invulnerability precedes me. Oh, how I yearn for you the way broken skin stitches itself back together, the way fibers of a wire stretch to hold on, to come together and remain as one. Oh, how you complete me the manner punctuation consummates these phrases, embedding the lines with a flourish no words could elicit. All your self-proclaimed flaws are null to the universe, your soul culminating as the true embodiment of pure perfection with flavorful cracks in the profile, cracks that you've offered to my pitiful soul, pristine ledges to hold on to as humanity crumbles from your grace. Oh, how if what you provide me with is god-like pity, how I want nothing more than for that bliss to fuel my burning heart, to further engulf my being with this feverish love, to only be quenched by your will.

Bertoldt - he’s shy, so his friends tell you for him

Look, really, no offense to Bertoldt, but, well, he never said a word. Which, like, what the hell? You could tell—or rather, you were pretty sure—he was into you by the way he tensed up when you were around, by the longing glances he’d cast your direction when you were nearby.

Holding conversations was difficult in an endearing way, because he was shy—painfully shy—around you, making small comments with a smile and pink cheeks, stuttering out small compliments and avoiding eye contact like he’d crossed a line (honestly you wished he’d crossed more).

You were starting to lose hope after months of talking led to little improvements, him still awkward around you, still not telling you how he really feels, if he likes you in that way. And like, how could you really be sure that he did if his hints were shit?

One day you receive a video message from Reiner, in it depicting Bertoldt and Porco sitting on a leather couch and talking—well, Porco wasn’t. Bertoldt was talking. A lot. About you. Talking about how you make him so nervous he freezes, how he finds you so attractive his body doesn’t know how to react, how he gets goosebumps on his neck at just the sound of your voice, how the secret love he had for you took up so much volume in his throat he couldn’t even speak or breathe near you.

[darkestescapes]

Sweet Temptation

Synopsis: Your Step-brother! Eren can't seem to get enough of you.

Pairing: Yan! Step-brother! Eren Jaeger x Fem bodied! Reader. (All characters are 21+).

Warnings: STEPCEST!!!! Eren is obsessed with you 🥺. Non-con. Dub-con. Oral (F receiving). Fingering. Penetrative sex. Unprotected sex. Daddy kink. Voyeurism (hehe you'll see). PWP. MDNI. Don't read if you're uncomfortable.

Before dinner was served, you decided to hop into the shower for a quick bath after returning from the gym. The way your gym clothes hugged your figure made Eren lose his mind. Your breasts perfectly outlined and so tempting all he wants to do is to suck on your nipples and make you cum. Your tight pants showcasing your ass and how your gymming is paying off.

Of course he shouldn't think like this about you, you're supposed to be family, but to be really honest, Eren never considered you as that type of family, not even once. So can you really blame him if he gets hard seeing your cute little ass peek out from below your shirt when you try and grab the cookie jar to soothe your midnight snack cravings. Can you actually blame him for almost cumming in his pants when you take the first bite of the chocolatey delicacy and close your eyes, your face contorting in pleasure and almost moan out loud at how good it tastes?

Can you really blame him for breaking the lock of your bedroom door from outside just so he can hear your soft moans when you try to masturbate using your cute little fingers while he touches his cock, imagining how cute you'd look sucking him off?

So naturally, when you excused yourself before dinner, he knew this was his chance to take you. Slipping away from the gathering in the living room, Eren made his way to your room, slowly entering and closing the door, making sure to latch it shut. He only broke your lock for a reason ;)

He sighed when he heard you still showering but not a moment later the water shut off. Knowing you, you have your music on while you shower and that music doesn't stop till you're ready to leave your room. And boy is he glad that when you come out, wrapped in just your towel, he can easily push you against the wall and cover your mouth with his big hand to prevent you from shouting in fear. Shhh.... He motions with his fingers, mouth stretched in a smirk, your eyes wide with fear.

Tearing his hand away, your chest heaving from breathing heavily, " Eren what the actual hell?", You ask.

"You are so beautiful.", He says shamelessly checking you out with his dark eyes. Wetting his lower lip he suddenly leans forward towards your neck, sniffs your scent and starts to become hard as the familiar feeling of wanting you takes over his brain.

Holding your wrists in place he pulls away chuckling, amused to see your scared expression, like you aren't his little temptress who keeps making him hard by merely existing.

" You smell nice. Why are you so scared? I'm only Eren. Your Eren." He says tucking your hair behind your ear. Gripping your towel, he tears it off your body in one go, leaving you fully exposed to him.

When you try to gasp his hand wraps around your mouth again. Your free hand tries to pry his strong hand away from your mouth but it's of no use. "Shh... I know you want to scream and fuck..., even I want to hear you scream for me really really bad, but I don't think we can afford that right now, can we? You're a smart little girl aren't you? Hmm"

Nodding in agreement, you take a breath of relief when his hand falls. You gasp softly when his lips kiss the top of your left boob. His tongue comes out to lick your nipple that is already protruding from coming in contact with the cooler air in the room. Engulfing your nipple in his mouth he begins to suck on it to his liking, his other hand coming to play with your right boob. You wrap your hands around his neck to push him away, but him being a lot bigger and stronger than you literally makes you weak.

Detaching from your nipple, his kisses proceed to go down your stomach, your hips, and finally they reach the treasure he's been longing for for so long. He stands up before doing anything more, smiling as he looks down at you. Taking your hand sweetly, he pulls you toward the bed and nudges you to lay down. Knowing Eren, not listening to him never ended well. Hesitantly, you sit down at the edge of the bed, legs pressed together to stop your embarrassment a little. Kneeling down near your legs Eren clicks his tongue in disapproval and taps your knees and pushes them apart. Turning your face away from his, you oblige.

He is in awe when he sees the sight in front of him. You're wet from just a few kisses, did you want him just as much as he wanted you too?

"So pretty for me" he says, his right thumb coming to play with your folds and to find your clit. When he flicks your clit your body jolts and a surprised gasp leaves your mouth. Temptation gets the better of him and he leans forward with his tongue stretched. He drags his tongue from your clit to your entrance, effectively pushing you onto your back in the process and he keeps eating you till your hands come to pull at his hair. Rubbing his face into your pussy he starts to get drunk in this experience of finally having you to himself.

"You're so small baby, I gotta stretch you out for me." Before you can process his words, he inserts his middle and ring fingers inside you at once. Moaning out loud you involuntarily rock your hips into his hand. You can't help but want more, why is he so good at this, you wonder taking and twisting your nipples in your fingers. Eren continues to fuck his fingers into you, eventually adding a third finger and also rubbing your clit. The juices gushing out of your pussy are being collected in his palm.

"Eren...." You warn him, moaning his name, saying that you're close, but of course he knows that, having watched you cum undone so many times. He captures a mental picture of you like his, at the mercy of his fingers, crying for him to make you cum. You bite your lip and arch your back when you finally cum, pushing through the high and trying to close your legs with Eren in between them.

Quickly he undresses himself. Using his cum stained hand, he pumps his cock, lubricating it with your juices. Hovering on top of you, he bends down to capture your lips in a kiss. The sweet sensation of your lips on his is something he knows he can never get used to. Placing his left knee on the mattress, he slowly penetrates into your entrance, swallowing your moans and cries from the stretch in the kiss.

Eren pulls away and groans loudly, feeling your walls around his full cock. God he knew you are perfect, but he didn't expect you to be perfect like this too. Eren is like a drug, you always want more of him. Making grabby hands at him you beckon him to come closer to you. He smiles as he leans down till your chests are touching. "Aren't you just perfect?" He whispers, more to himself.

He starts to move his hips, his cock fucking into you so good you can almost feel him in your stomach. With a dazed look you look into Eren's eyes, begging for him to go faster. Smirking, he obliges and starts to fuck you faster, the sounds of his thighs slapping yours being masked by the music from your phone. You wrap your hands around his shoulders, pulling yourself up to his chest, back arching every time the head of his cock grazes your spot.

" Fuck Eren... Harder... Fuck me harder... Daddy please!" You whine out to him. Somehow his eyes become darker with lust and with every thrust you feel your high approaching. This is the first time you'll be cumming twice in the same session.

" Yes FUCK.. Fuck me... Fuck me... God yess... Daddy... Daddyyyy" you moan loudly finally cumming for the second time, squeezing his cock and also his body as tightly as you could.

"Fuck...." Eren moans pulling his cock out and painting your stomach and chest with his cum. With both your chests rising heavily, you hear a knock on your door.

" Dinner's ready Y/N..... And Eren." Zeke says from outside the door.

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

Zeke's POV (Skip if uncomfortable)

Sighing after being disturbed by his mother, Zeke stopped his reading and unwillingly climbed up the stairs to call you down for dinner.

Before he could knock he heard you moan so loud he had to look around to make sure no one was there.

Leaning his ear onto the door, "Daddy please!" Gasping in shock he pulls away from the door.

This is wrong, he shouldn't be affected by you like this. Yet here he is, his cock getting hard after hearing you moan. Checking the surroundings once again, he palms himself and starts listening again. His shock increased when he heard his brother's moans as well coming from your room.

" Fuck" he groans. He should've been the first to take you. But at least he has something to masturbate to tonight. Once he isn't able to hear any more moans from your room, he calls you both for dinner. Of course that is what he originally came to do.

[mrswint3rs]

Can you do a Zeke one?

𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲 ᯐ

pairings- Professor! Zeke x Fem! Reader

a/n- i love this man with all my heart // not proofreading bc if i do i’ll cringe and delete the whole thing

cw- Teacher x Student relations, fantasizing, some mentions of guilt, public masturbation, age gap (reader is early 20s / Zeke is mid 40s), unprotected sex, use of praise as always ❦

➽────── ──────

In all his years of teaching, he’d never had a student quite like you. Never had he even considered looking at one of his students as anything more. Then you came along. Or rather, he did.

It was good to start a clean slate every now and then, to get a chance at doing something new. So he decided to take a sabbatical leave, temporarily parting from his home country.

It wasn’t the first time he had traveled to the states, but teaching there was a different story.

Seemed phyc was a more common course to take for a GPA raise rather than it was important. Most students didn’t take his teachings all that seriously, handing in the most atrocious attempts at an essay.

No one engaged in his lectures, even when he made an effort to make them more interesting and interactive. They all just lifelessly sat through each day, like his words went in one ear and right out the other.

Only you seemed to be interested in actually learning, laughed at his dry humored jokes when none of your other peers did. It was his only motivation to get through each day. He considered going back to his roots. It all felt sort of pointless, like he wasn’t getting through to anyone.

Sure his lessons and theories were a little old fashioned and boring at times, but he didn’t think he was all that bad. It was what he worked so hard through his youth for. He was pretty confident in all his knowledge and wanted nothing more than to provide his insight which you finally gave him a chance at.

You never skipped class, always turned in assignments on time, and you actually participated. Every question you’d be the first to raise your hand, most times you’d be the only one to do so. You even went out of your way to speak with him after class ended, either questions about the lecture or just to talk to him in general.

He knew he shouldn’t favor his students, but really he couldn’t help it.

You put so much effort into studying, and it showed in all your test results. Exams were a breeze for you because you actually heard him when he spoke. Always front row.

He looked forward to seeing you there, probably more than he should. And he absolutely despised seeing you talking to your other teachers. He could only hope he was your favorite.

It was that jealous build up that made him realize just how much you started to cloud his thoughts.

He started to favor you so much he could hardly see your faults. Any mistakes on your papers, he’d ignore, just to see you beam at his approval when it was handed back. Not that he needed any excuse to praise you, you were without a doubt at the top of your class even without his foul play.

In no way did you try to provoke him. You were a humble girl, just trying to get your credits. Yet he couldn’t help but wish it was something more than that.

The way you looked at him, as if waiting for something. He couldn’t resist the feeling of wanting you. And that want was gradually shifting into a need. No woman in his age group ever got him that needy. Only you and your possibly yearning gaze.

He grips his cock, stroking to the thought of you like a mad man after class. Nobody came into his office after lunch hours anyway.

He cusps his freehand over his mouth to silence his pathetic groaning as he fucks into his other one, closing his eyes tight and imagining you at the front of his class. Just sitting and listening to him so intently. You were so innocently enticing.

Just the thought of you doing something so normal was enough to make him lose himself.

It was so morally wrong and he knew that deep down. It only made it feel more thrilling, making him shoot spurts all over the underside of his desk.

God, he was a sick man. Completely thinking with his dick as if he was a teenaged boy again. He felt like he needed to be baptized or something.

But even with the aftermath guilt, his need for you was unwavering. He just didn’t know how to get closer to you. You probably didn’t see him that way. He didn’t think he fit the role of the ‘sexy professor’ that all the girls fawned over. He was just a dorky middle aged man trying to be what his parents wanted him to be. It was more than likely that you only saw him for what he was.

It was normal to have at least one teachers pet. You just tried harder than most to be successful. If you want something, you have to earn it.

You knew that all too well. Which was the real reason behind your commitment to his class.

Sure, you needed those credits and a straight grade, but those weren’t your main concerns. The second you stepped foot in that room and laid eyes on him, he became the whole focus point. He was beautiful and not in a self absorbed way, which was so rare. It was like he didn’t even realize how appealing he was, and you wanted nothing more than to show him.

Anyone could take notice of how awkward his lectures were. When he tried to interact and joke around and they were all so blandly silent. You felt bad.

Soon, you started putting yourself in front of him as much as you possibly could, becoming one of the only ones to make an effort to engage with the poor man. It was clear he was trying his best.

And he was an excellent instructor. You weren’t all brains, and his lectures made more sense than any of the previous. To you, everything he taught just clicked. You were fascinated by his witt, even his profound opinions. It was the only class you didn’t feel obligated to attend.

At first he was just eye candy. But over time you grew to actually appreciate his unique personality as well. He wore his heart on his sleeve more than he probably realized. You could read him like an open book. And it was especially clear how he felt in the way he looked at you, and that lopsided greeting smile when you looked back.

He seemed so happy every time you’d approach him after class. It was clear he was lonely. No one appreciated him the way you did, and you couldn’t understand why. It was beyond pity. You just wanted to see those blue-grey eyes light up, and for his smile to actually reach them.

And him in general.

You could hardly sit still at the sound of his voice going on about the ‘hierarchy of needs’. Well he was leaving out a major one.

You clench your thighs together tighly, shifting like you’re uncomfortable just for the friction from the seem in the crotch of your jeans, gnawing on your inner cheek like a dog with a bone. The last thing you wanted was to let a moan slip in front of everyone. Even you realize how desperate you were behaving. The man was just talking for fucks sake.

It was always so easy for you to take it in before, but now you’re not following what he’s teaching at all, only focusing on the rasp undertone of his voice. Imagining how it’d sound if he was buried deep inside you.

You orgasm so easily, making a mess inside your pants. You just hoped no one took notice of your writhing, and that he wasn’t looking at the way your eyes rolled back as you came so hard to the thought of him. Though a part of you wanted him to catch on.

Eventually your lack of ability to pay attention caught up to you. Your grades started to slip, which shocked him since you were doing so well before. He couldn’t help but feel concerned and he wanted to know the cause of the change. Which led you to being called into his office, with the door and blinds shut for privacy.

Where you always deep down aspired to be. Just preferably not for this reason. You never wanted to disappoint him.

“Have a seat wherever you’re comfortable,” he says, pulling up one of your recent works.

You pull out the chair in front of his desk, plopping down and looking everywhere but at him. Blatantly obvious you’re aware of the reason you were summoned.

“Forgive me for being vague in my email… I just wanted to check on you.” he says. “Lately you’ve been…sort of out of it. I just want to be sure you’re taking care of yourself.”

“No need to be concerned about me, Professor Yeager.” you immediately chime in. “I’ll pick up the slack.”

“I’m not as much worried about your grades as I am about you. You’re a very talented girl. I’d hate to see you struggle, especially on my account.”

“It’s not your fault,” yes it is. “You’re one of the greatest teachers i’ve ever had.”

And that’s one of the sweetest things he’s ever heard. He struggles to keep up his professional facade as those words come out of your mouth. Something he had wanted to receive throughout his whole career.

“Is that so?” he presses on. “Why is that? I fear i’m nothing short of the average.”

You breathe out, almost frustrated by his self undermining. “You’re anything but average, professor. In all aspects.”

You couldn’t be more obvious. The only way you were getting anywhere with him was by being flat out bold. Even if he turned you down, you couldn’t miss out on the chance to reveal yourself. It was nearing the end of his sabbatical leave. You knew he would only be there for one semester.

“In…all aspects?”

You wanted to curl up and die. You knew he was a bit of a loser, but thought surely he could take a hint. He had to have had a woman in his life at some point.

Instead of further delving into the details of feelings, you shoot your shot, leaning in to take his lips. No way to misinterpret that.

It finally clicks with him then. You wanted him all the same, came straight to him.

Next thing you know, you’re flat on your stomach, face smooshed against the smooth wood of his desk with his cock jabbing in and out of your drenched cunt. He didn’t have to restrain himself any longer, finally you were right where he wanted you to be. All those days of pumping into his hand were nothing compared to actually having you. Just as tight and eager as he imagined. He knew you were innocent on the outside, but nobody is ever fully innocent on the inside.

“Such a pretty girl,” he moans. “I’ve waited so long to have you like this.”

He hits that spot repeatedly, making you gasp for breaths. “s’ too good…” you mewl, your pussy practically swallowing him up whole.

“Thank you for being such a wonderful student,” he groans, hips stuttering as he feels you tighten around his length. “Taking me so damn good…”

“I’m so proud of you for how far you’ve come.” he adds, and you turn into a puddle. “All for me,”

He continues to rut into you, neither of you caring about the consequences. Your moans are so angelic to him. He wishes he could watch your face, look into your eyes while he fucks you. He just wants you to need him.

“Gonna cum, Professor!” you warn with a whine, only urging him to pick up the pace. He hooks his arm underneath you, rapidly rubbing your puffy clit to break you further.

“That’s it…” he pants. “Cum with me. All over my cock.”

“ Give it to me, please.”

You clamp down as you finally burst. The feeling takes you whole. Your mouth opens but no sound comes out. You feel your body tingling from head to toe as he fucks you through it, chasing his own release.

You’re put down to a breathless, whiny mess, unable to even see straight or think about anything but your teacher’s cock, stuffing you oh so full of his cum with no regard.

He keeps going until it’s overstimulating him. He didn’t want to part from you. Ever. But as it got to be too much, he forces himself to pull out, releasing a pitiful whimper at the separation.

But you looked so beautiful, sprawled out and twitching on his desk. He couldn’t control the hardening of his cock again. He needed a break, though he didn’t know how long he could last without your warmth again. He needed to have all of you for himself. He’d never be satisfied otherwise.

“Can you take me again?” he asks, not wanting to tire you out entirely. You still had class after this.

You babble out repetitive pleads for more in response and he has to grip his length to calm the throbbing. He couldn’t wait, even for five minutes. You had him completely addicted at the first taste.

“That’s my girl.”

mlist

[seeingivy]

meeting the parents 

roommate eren x f!reader 

you swear you know the family sitting next to you at eren’s soccer game, you’re just not sure from where

**find mini-series masterlist here

an: ty for all the love on roommate eren!!!! this part was super super rushed and not AS proofread lol but I just wanted to put the idea out there to set it up for some other stuff :DDDD 

previous part linked here

- 

“Is there something I’m supposed to wear to your soccer game? I’ve never been to one before.” 

You feel Eren get up from his bed, which you were currently sprawled on. You’d spent more time in his room as of late, his bed being more comfortable to watch movies on than the couch. The night you had slept in his bed felt like it breached any sense of normal boundaries between the two of you, this was the new normal. I guess touching each others scars can do that to someone. 

In the middle of the movie he had picked out for today, which was a stupid nature documentary that was putting you to sleep, he had invited you to come to his first home game, which was on Friday. 

He was trying to convince you - telling you Annie would be there, that there are snacks, and Jean and Armin will be too since they were part of the game. You’re positive he doesn’t understand the pull he has on you, because you’d agree to anything the second he asked. 

After you agree, you can’t help but feel your heart twinge at the smile spreading across your face and you fight the urge to poke his dimples. You love his dimples. His smile lines. The softness near his eyes. You shake your head, directing your gaze back to the forest on the screen as you avoid the fluttering in your chest. 

After your question about the clothes, he nearly jumped up, rummaging through his closet to find something for you to wear. After a few minutes, he throws the shirt at you, which lands square in your face, knocking you over. You pull the shirt off your face, sticking your tongue out at him as he joins you back on the bed. 

You keep a respectable distance when you sit together on his bed, obviously. You can’t even look at him without exploding. And whenever he touches you, all you can think about is his soft, nimble fingers running across your skin in the night, touching all the parts of you that were hurt. 

But every once in a while, Eren will brush his hand against yours while reaching for his phone, fix your hair behind your ears because you ‘look like a garden troll’, and claim you have a stray eyelash on your face just to press his fingers against your cheek. 

You think it’s an excuse to touch you, that it can’t all be a mistake, but you’re also well aware that Eren can make you a little delusional. You ignore the validity of the situation all together. The less you think about his fingers on your skin, the better. 

You hold the shirt up, inspecting it. Your throat drying when you realize what it is. His jersey. 

“Eren. I can’t wear this.” 

“Why not?” 

“I don’t know. Aren’t you supposed to wear it while you’re playing?” 

“I have another one. Plus, all the girls wear jerseys to the games. Annie’s wearing Armin’s honorary jersey.” 

Annie’s not a normal girl, she’s Armin’s girlfriend. All the girlfriends wear jerseys to the game. You turn to face him, an uneasy expression pressed on your face. He rolls his eyes, his hand making its way to the top of your head. He sticks his fingers into your scalp, applying soft pressure. 

“Why are you thinking so hard? It’s just a shirt. I can find you another one if it bothers you that much.” 

He’s right. It’s just a shirt. To him anyways. It might mean something else for Annie and Armin and every other girl but for you guys, it’s just a shirt. 

You shake your head, agreeing to wear it to the game on Friday. 

 - 

The game rolls around and you’re currently seated in the stands alone. You have superstitions to thank for that. 

Armin doesn’t play in the game, but helps the coaching team strategize where to put the best players. Hence, the honorary jersey Eren mentioned earlier. Armin’s been around the sport since he was a kid and knows all the players' strengths well enough to help assist in making plays. It makes a lot of sense when you think about it - Armin’s never the one at the center of the play, but definitely the mastermind behind it. 

However, Armin claims that they can’t win unless he’s wearing a very specific pair of blue shoe laces. Eren explained that superstitions mean everything to the team, even to him. Apparently, he refuses to play if he isn’t wearing his key necklace. Because, he’ll lose without it. Armin’s the same with the shoelaces. 

Annie was currently tearing apart Armin’s apartment, trying to find the shoelaces before they could start the game in a few minutes. Which left you alone in the stands reading the book you brought to kill the time. You’re not much of a soccer or sports fan - so you had contingency plans in place. You’re just here to support your friends and because Eren asked you to come. 

You feel a hand on your shoulder, pulling out your earphones to acknowledge the nudging. You find a tall, blonde man standing over you, gesturing if he could sit next to you. He has two other people with him, a man and a woman with dark black hair, who have to be one of the player's parents. You give them a smile, nodding your head that they could take the seats next to you. 

“A Midsummer Night’s Dream?” 

“Yeah, I have to read it for an assignment.” 

At the sound of his voice, you take a moment to really seep into the man’s features. He’s got blonde hair, thin circular framed glasses, and a full sported beard. If you had to guess, you would say he’s somewhere in his late twenties, just based on his looks and demeanor. You have a feeling you’ve seen him somewhere before, but you can’t really pinpoint where from.

“This is an interesting place to complete an assignment. What brings you here?” 

You shut the book closed, squinting your eyes around on the field till you find Eren running up and down the track. The game starts in a few minutes and he’s warming up before he takes his spot at the goalie stand. 

“That guy. He’s my roommate. I came to see him play.” 

The man nods, craning his neck to find who it was you were pointing at. You sit in silence, not interacting with the man or the other two people till the middle of the game. Annie still hadn’t returned, but they were surprisingly winning the game. It was neck to neck the entire time, Eren’s team barely scoring over them each time the whistle went off. 

You feel the fingers tap into your shoulder again, the blonde man staring at you. 

“I’m going to go get water from my stands for my parents. Did you want anything?” 

You can’t ignore the growling in your stomach and the dryness in your throat - you had been screaming for a better half of the last hour. You never knew sports could make you so passionate. You dig for your wallet in your pocket, pulling out way too much cash for a simple bottle of water. You reach for his hand, squeezing it twice before speaking. 

“Thank you so much, really. It’s very kind of you to ask me. If you could get me a snack, that would be great. Here’s the money for it, you can use it for your parents' water bottles too.” 

You place the bills in his hands, turning your neck back to find Eren running on the field. You feel bad, but the only thing you can focus on is him. He’s so coordinated, like a figure skater on the field. Watching him lace the ball through his feet to avoid other players taking it from him felt somewhat hypnotic - but you think that’s more about how Eren looks and is, rather than how he’s playing. 

As the blonde man turns to leave, the woman slides into his seat, leaning over to talk to you. She has golden brown eyes, which are warmly peering into yours. 

“You’re really into the game. You’ve been following it really closely.” 

“I never thought I’d enjoy it so much. This is actually my first time coming to a game.” 

“What made you decide to come today?” 

“Eren Yeager. He’s number eleven, running on the right side of the field. He’s a really good friend of mine and he asked me to come. He cares a lot about the game and I care a lot about him, so I just had to come when he asked me.” 

She presses her hand over yours, squeezing tight. You can see her eyes glimmering at your words, though you’re not entirely sure why. You can’t place it but she seems familiar too. You’re having a weird sense of deja vu from the game all together. 

“You’re a sweet girl, really.” 

You smile back, your heart tingling at her words. You’re distracted by everyone cheering at the field, craning your neck back to find Eren. You watch him sink the ball into the net, jumping to your feet at the sight of him stopping, a smile shining on his face as he watches the scoreboard turn in his favor. 

You swear you imagine the next part, but the looks everyone around you give you tells you it was real. He turns to the field, squinting till he finds you settled in the bleachers. He points to the net, signaling at the score he just made, and then points at you, a smile pressed against his face. You’re not sure what it means entirely, but what you are sure of is that his stupid smile was going to make your heart explode one day. 

 - 

Eren wins the game. Obviously. You watch his teammates lift him into the air, shuffling him to the end of the bleachers. You run down the steps, your cheeks sore from smiling so hard. You watch the players let him go and he meets your eyes, slowly walking over to meet you. 

You basically run at him, tangling your arms around his neck. He lifts you up, spinning you around for a few seconds before setting you down. You can feel his arms shaking, which you’re sure is the adrenaline from the rush of the game. 

“Ren. That was so fucking cool. You’re so cool.” 

“Yeah?” 

You can see the corners of his lips quirking up at his words, a warm look in his green eyes. 

“You’re amazing. You move so fast, I could barely keep my eyes off of you.” 

“You can’t do that anyways.” 

You smack his shoulder with the side of your arm, rolling your eyes at him. He’s not wrong. 

Before you can bite back, he looks past your shoulder, waving at someone behind you. You turn your neck to find the three people you were sitting with from before walking up, swinging their arms around Eren. 

You watch the man with blonde hair put his hand in Eren’s hair and affectionately shake his entire head, while the man and the woman envelop him in a hug. You’re thoroughly confused. 

“You know them?” 

“Do you know them, peaches?” 

“Peaches?” you hear the black haired man say, turning his eyes towards his wife and son. 

“Yeah, we were sitting together during the game.” 

He turns his neck, narrowing his eyes at the three of them.

“How did you guys know it was her?” 

“She has Yeager printed on the back of her shirt in huge letters. It wasn’t that hard to figure out she was the girl we were looking for.” 

The three of them turn to you, all of them smiling brightly. Eren pulls you closer, swinging his arm around your shoulder as he turns to face you. 

“Y/N. These are my parents, Grisha and Carla, and my brother Zeke. They really wanted to meet you and I was going to introduce you to them after the game but they had other plans.” 

You can feel the gears settling into place in your head, the deja vu feeling making sense. The picture Eren showed you when you were sick, when you became friends - it was of them. His family. You just didn’t recognize them right away because they were way younger than they are now. 

You press your hands to all of theirs, the dread filling your chest. They knew it was you the entire time and you had no idea. Is that rude? Are they going to tell Eren you said that you cared about him?

“I’m really sorry I didn’t recognize you. Eren showed me a picture and I thought I knew you guys from somewhere, but the picture he had shown you was so old.” 

“He showed you a picture of us? He basically refused to show us any of you, he’s so secretive.” Carla responds, the shock pressed on her face.

“Just threaten him. He’ll give in eventually.” 

The three of them laugh, your heart tingling at the sight of their laughter and smiles. Okay, okay. Not too bad. They don’t hate you, that’s for sure. 

“I have a feeling he only does that for you.” 

You quirk your eyes at his dad, Grisha he said, and shake your head, dismissing the comment. He’d do it for anyone. You just know how to do it. You hear Annie and Armin calling you from the other side of the field, something about taking a picture of them. 

You shake all of their hands another time, giving them your brightest smile before letting your legs drag you to where Annie and Armin were standing. 

 - 

“No grandchildren till after graduation.” 

“Mom.” 

“I get it. She’s really cute, she’s sweet, it’s probably easy when you sleep in a bed together every night. But no grandchildren.” 

“She’s not my girlfriend. And she doesn’t sleep in my bed.” 

Eren feels Zeke smack the back of his head, turning back to glare at him.

“You get stupider as time goes on. That poor girl likes you so much.” 

Eren shakes his head, looking over at you from across the field. You’re crouched on the ground, taking a picture of Annie and Armin who have their arms tangled around each other. Of course, you’re crouching on the ground to get the best angle. 

Annie’s pressing a kiss to his cheek and he ignores the fact that all he can think about is you doing that to him. 

“No, she doesn’t.” 

“She told us she cared about you. A lot. And mind you, she thought we were strangers. She wasn’t trying to impress us as your family or your loved ones, she literally was just telling us, like she’d tell any other stranger who talked to her. She likes you.” 

Eren feels his dad come behind him, pressing dollar bills into his open palm. 

“It’s her money. Make sure you return it.” 

“She offered to pay, didn’t she?” 

They all nod, confirming his suspicions as he glances back over to you. Kindness was like breathing to you and he envied, admired, and loved it about you all at once. You were so...you sometimes, it hurt him. 

Eren gives Zeke one more shove for good measure, before stalking over to the field where you’re standing. He reaches over, pressing his fingers into the side of your shoulder. You turn over, your stupid doe eyes staring into his again. 

“Need something, Ren?” 

“I want a picture with you. Ask Annie and Armin to take it.” 

He doesn’t miss how your face lights up at the request and he curses your sweet little heart for making him like you more. 

Sometimes he feels like he can’t help it, like you could breathe and he’d love you for it. The way your nose crinkles, your chest rising and falling as it fills with air, he could love anything, even a stupid physiological act, if it was you. 

You hand Annie the camera, reaching over to press yourself against him. He reaches forward, squishing your face in his hand as Annie takes the picture. You run over, snatching the phone from Annie’s hand to swipe through the pictures. You accidentally land on the picture of Annie and Armin first, Annie pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

“Oh my god, I thought that was us for a second Ren. Imagine.” 

But he doesn’t have to. There’s already a picture of you two like that - you pressing a kiss to his cheek - from a while back. You just don’t remember it. 

- 

next part linked here

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[adalz]

Lacrymosa - part 5

pairing: Zeke x Reader ー Priest!Zeke x Angel!Reader (mention of Angel!Levi x Angel!Reader)

chapter warnings: /!\ very angsty/violent chapter / a lot of violence and blood, use of gun, mention of wounds, witchhunt, minor/ major character death (i'm so sorry) / sacrilege tw, you know the drill.

world count: 7.3k

a/n: Hi! I started writing this chapter forever ago. I had to work back and forth on it. most of it was written in one fell swoop. Kind of long getting in, but once you're n it. You’re in it. So much chaos.  

<< prev. part | series m.list | next part >> (soon)

In the distance, far, so far away. A memory. 

Like an echo lost in a mountain gorge, twirling above the valley.

Throbbing with life, it was so volatile it stuck to your skin, carried by an exhilarating feeling of momentum.

A memory wafted by the frosty winter wind, and your great wings glided on the updrafts of the sky.

There were landscapes, thousands of them, gone in a blink of an eye as the wind flew through your body like a vital force, eyelids heavy, face slapped by the sky. And suddenly, in the distance, tearing the pale horizon, the shape of a mountain. There, underneath your body, miles and miles of plains went by with the seconds. 

The secret whispers of the wind were loud in your ears, the tugging of the tense muscles of your wings hard and sharp. They were outstretched, strong - striking the air. And so, like an unexpected change of balance, your body stretched, reaching higher, towards the snowy peaks - beyond the rocks and the stone paths once used by Mankind.

It was such a strange memory, indistinct, lost in time. Something was odd - leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. The feeling of a captive bird, finally freeing itself from its golden cage, discovering the vast reality of a too voracious sky.

On your skin, thousands of sea spray stained your face, carried by the wind. There, there, beyond those stone walls, the scent of salt, the smell of the coast beaten by the winds and the tide - the ocean.

In this memory's rush, beyond the mist of the mountains, it finally appeared. There was the ocean, the ricochets of the infinite stretches of water. The softest sapphire reflections. The senseless call of the waves, heady. 

Your muscles finally relaxed in your back, and your body gave in to gravity.

I could have fallen in the middle of the ocean and my body would have slowly sunk to the bottomless abyss.

The adrenaline of the fall, controlled and delightful, made your heartbeat hard in your chest. As your body was about to slide into the water, your wings flared open - almost sliding on the opaline surface.

Fingers dived into the icy water, barely skimming the lace of foam on its surface, but the hard speed scraped them across the waves. Consumed by this unrealistic, almost painful coldness, you quickly withdrew your hand. And then with a dull, powerful wingbeat, shattering the air and the waters all around you, you plunged back towards the sky.

Sovereign of heavens, lost in their immensity, brushing the captive snowflakes in the clouds charged with electricity - it was an insatiable memory, tugging at your heart.

But something was wrong. Like an out of tune instrument in a delicate orchestra. 

Because this could never have happened.

You should have known this land. You should have remembered it.

That thrilling memory, buried deep inside you. As beautiful as it was - it all sounded wrong.

Invented.

Fabricated. 

Because never before had you dived into the blue Surface's sky. 

Because as far as you could remember, there had always been nothing but horrible memories, attached to nothing but fear. 

Because all you could really remember was the oceans infused with the color of blood. Mountains spat fire, and the curse of the Goddess had fallen upon Her creation. 

Because you had no real memory of that life you once lived, and only that senseless and uncontrollable fear had haunted you, for eternity, on the ground of Paradis. Held so close to the Goddess, She alone had let those fears grow within you. Only She had known the skies of the Surface of yesteryear.

Because the Goddess had taken everything from all of you, at the cost of wings too big to ever fly.

Those wings in your back were the very mark of a peace you had never known. Because your first memories were painful with nothing but death and destruction.

Because you, the children of Ymir, were then blessed with wings so large and so powerful that no mortal weapon could ever touch you. 

Yet, all it took to make you fall was an arrow.

There, deep within your flesh, stealing the air from your lungs. Offering you back to these lands. 

Far from the vast horizon and the ocean spray, you had learned to fly in a cage.

Prisoner of a tortured sleep, of marble halls too white, you had never known the blue sky and the seas with their silver reflections. Never had you known anything but destruction, death, and the deafening sound of eternity. You were a mere child, endowed with sacred powers. And nothing but the shades of death on Her lands had survived in your mind.

All of a sudden, in this too pristine memory, the sky was upside down. The taste of a blood too old flooded in your mouth. Its once scarlet color, dried and blackened by the intense light of the sun, blinded the whole world around you.

Nothing had prepared you to fall. No one ever taught you how to fly.

An eternity spent wandering around the ground of Paradis, and you waited for it to be over. You thought, there was a purpose. That it mattered. You thought there was sense.

How come no one ever told you?

That death and destruction were to be endless. And that their perpetrator was of sacred blood.

That Levi was an angel of death.

Senseless world. Nothing but fear, crawling, instilling inside your veins. Alone in this infinite sky, endlessly falling

And slowly, everything started to distort. This lie slowly evaporated. You blinked. The world was dark.

Thousands of voices fell silent in the night.

Your eyes fluttered open.

A breath 

and reality slowly returned. 

The beating of your own heart came to settle on the regular rhythm of rain hitting against the window. You could hear water drip against the half-opened window

Sweat was sliding down your neck, your body still sore from sleep.

You woke up, and it was dark in the room. 

You woke up with the feeling that your body was heavy, arms dead. Your wings tighter than ever against you. Suffocating.

The touch of a hand came. There, resting against your chest. Five cool fingers, as if measuring the crazy rhythm of your heart. Your pillow collapsed a little as you turned your face in his direction.

His head was resting against his arm, you could barely make out his features. Barely, the line of his neck. The curve of his chest. The delicate lines of his stomach and of his hips. Only, in the darkness of the night, the reflection of his eyes was on you.

This blue so familiar, full of sleep, was observing you.

He made a movement, and the sheets slightly slid off your naked bodies. His fingers gently came up to your forehead in a delicate caress. 

He murmured something, but the meaning of his words was lost in the low tone of his voice. Against your burning forehead, cool lips came to place a gentle kiss.

Oddly, knowing that he was awake at the same time as you, in the middle of the night, was appeasing. For he kept finding you, no matter where you were, and every single time, you were reborn under his fingers.

Then, you let your body slide in the sheets, thirsty for his cool touch. Dying to drown in his embrace. His arms tightly closed around you. 

Your nose against his skin, already overwhelmed by his touch, you thought about everything you had taken away from him. Everything he had given up. How you had turned his world upside down. This selfishness, which made you want his arms and his mind only to you. Him, already devoted to the Goddess. Him and his words and his outdated beliefs. Him and his faded world. Him and his gentle words.

Where She had abandoned you, he had given you everything. And you would burn forever in the flames of the Surface for refusing to love him.

It was so dark, and your world was in his arms. Safe. He had found you.

-

You woke up and the room was blood red. The sun was rising. Your wings spread behind you, feathers caressing your skin and your arm around Zeke, pulling him tight. You couldn't remember ever being so warm. Yet, there, on the tip of your fingers, you could have sworn you still felt the coldness of the sea.

-

You woke up and the room was bathed in yellow. His breath was steady and even. In his hair, the sun's rays were dancing. Beyond the window, beyond the rain clouds, the morning had blossomed. 

In a loud whisper, your body suddenly remembered the kisses of the night before, the frantic dance of love on your hips. There was a forbidden taste in your mouth. A bitter taste of success.

Gently, you extirpated your body out of his arms, carefully slipping towards the edge of the bed. Immobile in the silence, you sat there a long moment.

Shaking away the sleep, you bent your back while stretching and your wings opened painlessly.

Painlessly, you thought. Strong and steady. 

You grabbed the holed shirt that had been discarded on the floor, and walked out of the room, trying not to think about it. Of this silent promise of having to leave, eventually. 

As you went down the stairs, you let your wings slightly flutter, your body so light by the force of the air lifted by the working muscles. As if walking on water, your feet met the cold kitchen floor in an instant.

The muscles of your thighs suddenly woke up, warmed up by a soft pain, alive with a song that words did not come back to you, drowsy in a heady desire. 

In silence, you started making tea in the old kitchen. Soon, the sound of water ricocheted in the kettle, and you tried not to let your thoughts wander as you absent-mindedly looked outside the small paned window. From there, you could see the wrought-iron gate, a few trees in the woods and the path going downhill. The birds were already chirping in the forest.

From the cupboard, you grabbed one of the cylindrical metal boxes, on which was written in large calligraphic letters “Reeves Trading Company”. A sweet smell wafted up to you as you opened it. It was aroma of dried leaves, with the scent of fruit and vanilla. You brought the box to your nose, taking a breath in its stunted and dry flowers, once so brightly colored, and the green of the leaves were now dark and sad. In these dried flowers of winter colors, there were buds. With a spoon, you dipped into the tea leaves, taking only a small amount, and putting it in the teapot.

Warm hands slid over your stomach. 

“Aren’t you cold?” said his sleepy voice. 

Against your skin, ten fingers were now burning, his skin so warm, and you sighed with ease. From the wood-burning stove, the kettle whistled. 

In turn, you let your hands explore his forearms. He started nibbling your shoulder. Tenderly - the base of your neck, and then the nape. You felt his teeth slightly sink into your skin.

"Didn't mean to wake you up," you chuckled as you turned in his arm to face him. 

The moment your eyes met, he unleashed the most devastating smile.

He was beautiful, his flaxen hair tousled from the night, eyes shining with that confidence he would always wear so well. His chest was bare, and his arms all around you. 

The thought that he would regret what happened the night before had crossed your mind at some point, but he didn't seem to feel remotely guilty. 

"I made some tea," you said again, staring into the blue of his eyes. Behind his glasses, they were heavy-lidded, still puffy from the lack of sleep. They were sharp, focused. Wrinkled from a smile, taking the shape of pure delight on his face. Every look, every caress of the pad of his fingers, on the edge to make you lose your mind all over again.

"Thank you, angel," and his eyes went down to your lips.

His arms tightened against you, and in a sighing breath, he whispered, "You're so cold…"

“I’m fine…” you said, and it was nothing but a whisper. His eyes went back to your face. 

“Are you sure?”

Reaching out to his face, your hands cupped his cheeks. He let himself go, his face slightly huddling against your palms. 

“Yes,” you whispered. “I’m fine.”

His lashes were long behind his glasses, eyes closed, savoring this moment. His eyes remained closed as he took a deep breath in. 

Yet, he said nothing. 

"Let's drink this tea before it gets cold," you finally said, and his eyes opened. He nodded.

And the tea was poured. It abundantly flowed in the old, chipped cups, letting out its sweet and fruity aroma, while the steam drew delicate arabesques into the air. 

Ephemeral vapor, so fragile - and you remembered thinking;

"I wish I had lived this life."

Forever, in this old isolated house. Dancing in his arms while the rain was drenching the outside world. Having his hands skim over you as your body trembled with pain and pleasure, for eternity. Having him.

You remembered saying to yourself;

"Long may it last."

As long as life would allow you to. 

“I hope that time will let me keep him a little longer.”

How you would have liked to stay with him, to dress his wounds. Those that you could not see, which nevertheless, there, under his skin, still burned him with a great ardor. Those that, so deeply, had killed him, slowly. How you would have loved to watch him grow old and grow old with him. And perhaps your skin, under the influence of the curse of the Surface, would have wrinkled with the rhythm of years passing by, entangling the minutes and the hours with this love so tender that consumed you. As if the opportunity to die with him offered a new perspective to your life. A meaning, eventually.

Silently, in this very moment, you made a decision. Because that was your choice to make. It was the path you chose. Beyond the expectation and the duties imposed on you, a long time ago. Far from the waiting and the eternity. It was your choice. Entirely yours.

You would have loved, loved it. So much.

But the tea was poured, for the last time.

There was so much of it that it spilled out of the cups, dripping onto the floor. 

Zeke burned his tongue as he took the first sip. 

The hot liquid overflowed a little more. The cup slipped from his hands.

And then there, those last moments of innocence, they could have been frozen in eternity. And the cup, as if suspended mid-air, was about to hit the cold ground. 

What was heard instead was a shrill scream in the distance.

It lasted a split second. Zeke's face snapped; his head already turned towards the scream. Slipping through your fingers. The light in his eyes, suddenly dull.

He tore himself away from you. 

And the cup shattered on the floor.

You barely had the time to recognize Colt's voice that, Zeke was already running through the door. And before your legs could even begin to run after him, another sound ripped the air. 

Something you’d never heard before. Nothing like thunder. Louder. Closer - a deafening sound. Dry. Deadly. 

It resounded, with indescribable violence. Shattering all balance in this world. Your whole body jolted, hands tights against your ears, in an unconscious protective movement

Then came silence. A few seconds of it. Enough to breathe again.

And in its horrible hissing, you finally heard a burst of voices - Colt's again. He was calling Zeke.  He sounded terrorized. He was probably crying - out of breath.

A voice echoed. 

A hoarse voice, falsely delicate. 

You heard Zeke say, 'Get inside, son’ and the sound of footsteps in the gravel outside. But the voice said to stay still. The footsteps stopped immediately.

It said, "Don't move."

It said, "Or I'll shoot you."

And you were there, standing still in the kitchen, unable to move, feet wet from the burning water on the floor. You let your body take a step towards the window.

Behind the small panes, someone was standing in the garden. They were tall, far too tall. Menacing, with their arm stretched out. Behind them, other figures in the distance. They were not moving either, immobile. Among them, torches were burning. 

Horror struck you at the sight of all these people - walking on this haven of peace. Those who were never supposed to see you, those who had once spilled the blood of the Goddess in Her own halls.

But through the opaque panes, you could only see her. The dark blond hair running alongside her face. It was the darkness of her clothes that drew your attention to the shiny object in her hand. 

Witnessing the horror unfolding before your eyes, you realized the origin of the detonation. 

In your mouth, the terrible taste of the arrow that had pierced your throat. The memories of the pain, the blood. So much blood. Only this time you imagined the wound to be deadlier, a pain that matched the horrible smell of gunpowder and fire that overwhelmed your senses. 

Like pieces of a puzzle falling into place, the worst things went through your mind. Colt and the blood beating feverishly in his body. The life in his fragile body. Was he hurt? Had she used the weapon on him, in his back, as he ran, calling for Zeke with all his lungs? Was he alive? 

Violently boiling in your veins, all you could see, all you could imagine was blood. You straightened up abruptly. The woman's face suddenly turned towards the window. Towards you. 

Before you could make a move, Zeke's voice echoed again from outside. 

"Put the gun down. If you want to talk, talk to me."

"I've been trying to talk to you for weeks, Father," the woman said. "Only you're not listening." 

"Put the gun down, Yelena."

Her face turned back to Zeke's voice.

"Goddess, no! Have no fear, Father Zeke! I could never use it against you!"

"I don't care if you want to use it or not. Drop the damn gun. Now."

"Father, it's all for you that-..."

Then, you heard Colt’s voice - he was alive, thank the Goddess, he was alive - 

"Father-"

"Get your ass inside, Colt. Right now."

Her voice, again; 

“The boy doesn't move.”

“Let him get inside the house.”

“No.”

“He’s just a boy.” 

“I’m afraid you’re wrong."

“How am I wrong? He’s fucking seventeen!”

"He's not what you think he is."

“Who is he then? Just talk to me, for Ymir’s sake!”

No words were spoken, for a moment. Only silence, a question left unresolved.

Yet there was no hint of doubt in her voice as she eventually spoke.

Your heart fell into your chest. 

"He is a servant of Evil."

He was not. He was not.

This violence - the lies, the weapons. It couldn't be true, it wasn’t true. It wasn’t a nightmare.

And all you heard was Zeke. It was him. You were sure of it. It was him - but his voice had lost all gentleness. All the sweet inflections were gone. All you heard in the timber of his voice was pure anger.

“What the fuck are you on about?”

“I know Father. I know. But it’s all right now, we’re here for you. I came for you. I’ll deliver you.”

“Let’s do that then. Fucking deliver me.” It was no plea. It was him. “Just let him get inside the house first.”

"What for? So he can warn the Tempter?"

The Tempter

So they knew there was someone in this house. They came to kill you. They were going to.

“If he gets inside the house, it shall burn with the two of them inside.”

Her face turned again, slowly, towards the opaque window. It was dark inside the house. She couldn't see you. 

“What are you-...”

"You don't have to lie anymore, Father. I know what's going on. I know everything. All my doubts are now gone. I knew. I knew almost immediately. That something was off. Oh, Father, I am your most fervent servant, you know that. How could I not see that you disappeared as soon as your sacred duties in town were accomplished? How could I not have seen that you were bothered, lost in your thoughts during your sermons, each week shorter and shorter. You know how dearly I love you, Father Zeke. I love you. I would never tolerate anything happening to you. So I watched you, to understand what was going on. To help you. I followed you."

"You followed me."

"Most nights. When everything was dark, except for the lights inside the house. That’s when I’d see it the most clearly. It was just its shadows at first, and I thought it was just my mind playing tricks on me. I thought it was just you, or the kids, always under your feet. But there was something else, I was sure of it. And I saw it, as clearly as I’m seeing you right now. A thing. Shapeless and deformed. There was something that followed you inside that house. Passing you by, never making you jump. It was as if I was the only one seeing it. I tried to tell you. I tried to warn you. But you never listened. You were always busy. Rushing. Lost in your thoughts. You were not yourself, I could see it, that there was something in your mind. Something coaxing you.”

Through gritted teeth, she added: "And you were never listening to me. So I decided to see for myself. I came here yesterday morning."

“Yesterday morning,” Zeke repeated. 

Yesterday morning. As you had left the house at the first light of day. Zeke was still asleep in the chair in his office. Colt, in the armchair by the extinguished fire.

"There's no one in this house, Yelena."

"There was no one there, indeed. But something was off. There was a presence. As if there used to be someone. I could tell by the size of the embers left in the fireplace. By the way blankets had been thrown on all the chairs, by the number of dishes in the sink. By the clothes left on the floor. By their deformed and torn shape. So I started searching. I knew that something had been there. I just had to find it.

I prayed to the Goddess all those nights. For Her to let me know the truth. To let me understand. And it came to me - standing to reason: the only place where a demon could hide, away from our eyes. Where it could grow and regenerate, feeding on our faith and our devotion. Some places we used to worship. Somewhere remote. Somewhere only you know.

I thought I remembered the way to the Old Chapel. But the clearing is much deeper in the forest than I remembered. The paths once used by our fathers are all gone now, devoured by roots and creepers. The trees are so high, blocking out the daylight and it was so dark, so cold. What monster wouldn't make a den out of this.

And finally, after what felt like hours in the mist, right before my eyes - it appeared. I couldn’t believe it when I first saw it. That it was real. That I was right!

Wandering around the clearing like a lost bird. That was it - the thing that defiled your house. With its deformed shape. Trying in vain to look human. And I remembered thinking ‘What an outrage to the Goddess’. A terrible thing that we, sinners, should never have to see - withered wings, a being perhaps once divine creature, that is no longer one now that it has been repudiated from the floors of Paradis. 

"That's n-"

"Father, things happen for a reason. Its presence here is none other than a punishment. This thing is not a wounded bird. It is a punishment. A test for you. And for me. And I did not feel fear. Well, the truth is, on the contrary, I was relieved. That I was right all along. That I had found the solution. And I knew that I had to make things right. Back to how they were. I had to fix it. When I saw it, at the Chapel Father, I knew I had to kill it. For you. 

And so today, we are bringing the fire to you. We’ve come to save you, Father. To purge this house of the evil that has nestled in it.

It’s all happening faster that I intended to; Grice was spying on us as we were talking about how to… take care of this. He ran away before I could stop him. And he ran exactly where I expected him to. Back to the darkness. Like a rogue dog to its master. But don't worry - we will burn it all down. We will purge this place from the darkness. And I am going to fix this. 

Starting with this.”

Her silhouette abruptly changes position. Arm still outstretched. Turning around toward the window. Fire shot out of her hand. 

It was even louder this time, firing in your eyes. The air shattered, a deafening sound. The glass of the window exploded into a thousand pieces before your face.

You barely had time to bend down.

You didn't scream. You couldn't make a noise.

When your eyes flew open, someone was rushing inside the house. You knew it was Colt, but you wouldn’t have recognized him. His usual gentle face was now covered with terror. 

Outside, the world was screaming. 

You watched as he ran towards you, as if slowed down by time. As if gravity had changed. His eyes wide with dread, cheeks red and wet from the tears rolling across his face. His feet crushed the broken glass in the water. He was running towards you, for what seemed hours.

A hand stretched out in front of him, to come and get you, and outside, there was death. There was the fire of the torches and the murderous weapons. 

Outside, Zeke. Alone.

He grabbed your arm. And time went back on.

He screamed something, and abruptly pulled you from the floor. Before you could stand up, your knees scraped against the sharp pieces of glasses. You pushed on your legs, and started to run. 

Colt spoke, yelled something, but words died within the chaos. The only thing anchoring you in the reality of the moment was the cold skin of his hand in yours. There was another one. Another detonation, tearing the uproar of the world, but you already had crossed the room and its large fireplace, jostling the two mismatched armchairs. Colt kicked the small backdoor, onto the backyard.

And Zeke was alone. Outside in this hell. 

Out of reach.

In a vain hope, you looked back.

But all you saw was the darkness of her eyes, fixed on you. That silhouette of her, too slender, her legs too big. Behind you, already. There, a few meters away, in that room, pervaded by her deadly aura, by the death in her eyes. Staining those safe floors, thriving on fear, and her eyes, without any light. Fixed, transfixed aiming at one thing. You.

There was no turning back. There was no choice to be made. There never was.

Colt was tightly holding your hand.

Colt shouted ‘run’

And so you ran.

There had been no destination when you had first run through those woods. You had run for your life, or yet you had thought so. Feet thumping hard against the soil of the Surface, a bandage too tight around your throat, breath taken, voice lost. You had fallen and ran again, away, away from the wrong enemy. This time, if they were to catch you, they were going to kill you.

So you ran. As fast as you could.

Colt was holding your hand, and you were holding his. Behind you, people were shouting. Behind you, there was fire.

And the ground was beating hard with each footstep, with each breath, the world on the verge of rumbling right into the chaos, and somewhere, Zeke was all alone. 

Zeke was all alone facing those people. People that he knew, people that he saw every day, people that trusted his words, just like you did. 

Was it your curse, to watch everything go up in fire? Turning into ashes?

Death and destruction, all because of you.

What if I had fallen in the middle of the ocean and my body had sunk slowly to the bottomless abyss.

“Don’t stop!”

Colt’s arm was stretched, pulling you as he kept on running. 

Colt. Sweetest child. Colt and his timid smiles, and his stories and his blushing cheeks. Colt and his secrets, and his little brother he was so proud of. Colt and his training, and the light in his eyes whenever he was looking at Zeke. Colt and the warmth of his hands, and the sharp truth of his words. And his life had been made into a living hell, poor mortal eyes seeing things he should have never seen. 

He had gone through those woods as well. Running. Calling for Zeke after walking in his house, the floor covered in your blood. His once innocent childhood, stolen away.

He had run for Zeke, scared that something had happened, probably thinking of the fragility of his own life. This time, he was running for you. And he kept on pulling you, even when you stumbled. He never let go of your hand. 

Finally, the edge of the forest appeared from the dense foliage of the woods. Soon, you would reach the clearing, where the two of you would be exposed - easy to aim at and to take down. With nowhere to hide. Soon. 

And then what?

Followed almost immediately by yours, Colt’s feet were the first ones to beat the tall grass of the clearing. Here was the great blinding light of the sky, the cold sun of autumn warming up the skins. And at its heart, proudly standing for millennia, was the Temple. Its foundations still holding the walls steady, its colonnades filled with stone. The songs and the prayers that once resounded there, long forgotten by the Goddess.

You imagined that this was Colt’s plan, to run there, hide inside the Temple, and wait. But the truth was, he was just a boy hoping for a miracle. Because you knew that no one would ever come. You knew it had been forgotten for too long. You understood that you were running straight into a deathtrap.

And with each footstep, you were being more and more defenseless. With each footstep, you were turning into an easier prey. With each footstep, you were condemning yourselves. 

There was nothing but the beating in your ears. Nothing but the footsteps, the same rhythm, and the same race, again and again and again.

In your back, unstrapped wings were fluttering in the wind. If you would have been sure that you once really knew how to fly, you would have opened them wide. You would have let the autumn wind rush into them and set off. But no one ever taught you how to fly.

If you ever had a semblance of power, if there had been anything you could have done, you would have buried the world right there, under your feet. You would have soared up towards the sky, Colt within your arms, flying away from them, and from their decrepit beliefs. You would have done it. You would have opened the earth, and plunged the forest behind you into the Underworld.

A detonation ripped the morning light. Birds flew away from the trees.

The smell of sulfur, the smell of war all around you. 

You knew she was there, behind you, feet in rhyme with yours. She must have been aiming at you, trying to take you down with a shot...

But you were almost there, so close to discern the cracks in the walls. So close that your feet were already crushing the shattered stained glass in the grass. Colt slowed down. His hand slowly loosened.

You glanced back towards him. 

His cheeks were wet, his mouth so pale. 

"Co-..."

His hand slipped from yours.

And he fell to the ground.

You flung yourself on him. Quickly, grabbing him under his shoulders, trying to lift him up. But his body was heavy, too heavy, drained of energy.

"Run..." he said. And his skin was too pale, too pale. 

"No, no, no Colt, I'm not-"

"You’re almost there...”

His voice was too weak. His body, too heavy.

That was when you saw her. On the edge of the woods. She had stopped to take a shot, her stance still. 

“I won’t-...”

“I’ll catch up with you later. Please, just go.”

And in the distance the sound of footsteps. She was on the move again, running towards you. And it was as if the earth was shaking with each of her steps. 

"Now, you go," he said.

He lifted one of his hands, to remove yours from his body and your hands were so warm against him. Sticky.

Palms towards your face. The morbid colors of life.

Stained. Stained, stained, stained, stained. 

Stained with his blood. Stained, this infernal place. Always stained with blood.

You may have screamed. In the quiet of what had been done, you may have screamed. But no words formed on your lips, no sound, except a jerky growl. Except for the anguish, growing, tearing everything in you. 

Colt on the ground. His eyes were so fatigued. 

He may have been talking. He may have been crying.

But already, all around his body, his life, flowing onto the clearing ground.

You said something, again, you said something. You heard someone promise him, you heard yourself swear. That everything would be okay. That you would fix it. As if there was anything to fix in this world. What was there to fix when everything was already broken. When nothing made sense anymore. When you would have to erase everything to start over.

And it wasn't just a nightmare. That body, these tears. It was Colt, bleeding to death. It was life slipping away from him, unfairly. 

He who had so much to say, so much to do. He who had so much life and love.

Alone, in the clearing, while footsteps were getting closer. 

She was almost there. In your back, your wings jostled in the wind.

"I’m begging you. Run."

“I’m not leaving you here. Colt, I’m not leaving you here.”

But your voice came out punctuated by violent shaking. Your face twiste; your vision blurred.

Not by himself. Not like this. 

"Don't look back," he whispered, "do it-..."

Nearby, voices rose from behind the trees. Her steps became slower, spacing out.

"... -For me."

Standing before you, the woman. And Colt’s head fell heavily onto your lap.

Her pitch black eyes were on you. Emotionless face. With both of her hands, arms lowered, she was holding the gun. 

She was looking at the two of you. From him, to you.

Colt, then you.

The lifeless body, and then you. 

On her face, a shadow passed.

She immediately aimed at you, regaining her composure. Her body was tense. Yet, she didn’t shoot. 

“So this is you,” she said, slowly..

Colt was heavy against you, and everything you touched was sticky and warm, while her hands were immaculate against the bright gun. And you were ready. Ready for the fire. You were ready for her to shoot, whenever she wanted to. 

“I understand better now,” she said.

Unconsciously, your fingers skimmed back and forth against the coldest skin, the roundness of a cheek, ever so carefully. Not to break him. Not to disturb the peace. The tips of your fingers were frozen. 

“The Evil One really knows how to create temptation,” she said under her breath. She smiled at her own words. She smiled at you, she smiled at the body in your arms. 

Something was gradually building inside of you. You felt it, something dark. It grew within you at the exact moment she had started to smile. 

Over the treetops, a thick black smoke was rising into the yellow morning, like a dark column rushing to the sky. You could almost see flames licking the horizon. It could only be one thing. And with the smoke going up and up in the sky, the memories of the house. The books and creaking floors. The tea and the music. All of it, gone forever. Fragments of life and lives themselves - reaching for the sky.

So this was your curse. To watch everything go up in fire, turning the world into ashes. At this very moment, you came at peace with it. If they wanted to set everything on fire, you shall let it burn, them within the licks of fire.

Whenever she would move, you were going to kill her.

“I will kill you,” you whispered. 

Yet the words reverberated in the clearing, your voice, loud and clear as never before. As if this place had always been yours and the trees were yelling the words you said, all the way back to the ocean. It took no effort to say it. It was recited like a prayer in the night, like a promise. It was delivered with a power, kept silent for too long.

And under the weight of the words, you felt your wings flutter wide behind your back. You felt every single muscle in your body flare up with a deadly fire. With power, ignited at last.

With the tips of your fingers, you carefully closed Colt's eyes. His soft, gentle eyes. Their warm brown color, gone. And when your fingers left his cold skin, they were burning feverishly. They were burning so hot, that the blood on your hands started to emanate oddly.

You looked up at her, and finally, you saw it. What you should have seen from the start. What they should all have felt when they first looked upon you. What you ought to inspire them.

Sheer terror.

This, right here. This was right. This was how it was supposed to be. Always. For Mankind was supposed to crawl and beg forgiveness for its wretched existence. They ought to be horrified and miserable. You were going to make her regret ever being born, only allowing her to beg all the skies and souls for you to end her fast.

Without a glance at the lifeless body on your lap, you laid it back on the ground. Without a shudder, you stood up. And as you did, your wings began to flutter in your back. Fast and hard - the movement smooth, a new strength waking up inside your body.  

In your back, you could feel the muscles pulling painfully, straining against you from the force of the beaten air. Like a drop of rain naturally sliding with gravity towards the ground, your body elevated slowly, up towards the sky, feet hovering above the ground. 

And what happened next was the most delightful thing - her face distorted with fright, the grin that was there a moment ago, long faded. It was exhilarating; the fear, but most of all, the realization. 

She stepped back in panic, her hair flying out of her face under the effect of the powerful air movements, and then back again, brandishing her weapon hopelessly. Her legs buckled - she fell backwards, dropping it somewhere on the ground. And all around you, once pristine feathers were fluttering into the wind.

You heard a distant scream, from the edge of the forest. It snatched your attention away from her. All you could think about was the dark fate unfolding before you, the ill thoughts flooding all senses. And yet, at the sound of his voice, that thing that had been building within you, snapped a little. Zeke was running fast, he was calling your name. His body was covered in blood and bruises, his face distorted by anguish, gentleness and trust lost forever. 

But behind him, suddenly emerging from the woods as well, dozens of people, torches and fire in their hands started to march on the clearing. And yet you knew that he was not running for his life. He was running for yours. Always for yours.

But there was nothing to be done. There was no other possible outcome. All of them were doomed. Nothing could ever fix chaos. As it was bound to happen, the best you could offer was to flow along with it. There was no hope. 

You watched as Zeke ran through the clearing, and you hated every second of it. You hated to see him run, towards a future made of destruction and death. You hated that he was still hopeful, despite the blood on his face, and the smoke in his lungs. You hated that he was still hoping to save your life. That he was hoping there still was life to save. You watched him run until his eyes fell upon the body lying under your feet. You watched him stumble and fall to the ground. Your heart clenched in your chest when you saw the look on his face - the shadows, the distress. His eyes going back and forth from the body laying at your feet, to you. His glasses were long gone, and tears were rolling down his cheeks. You watched as he stood up, and started running again.

There was no outcome. There was never a choice to make. There was nothing to fix. And you were going to-...

Something shone from underneath you. A glimpse, the reflection of the sun.

A deafening detonation. 

All you felt was the deathly pain. Everything pulled out of place, vibration in your bones, your face getting torn apart. The echo of a bullet ringing inside of you. Only the taste of sulfur and blood in your mouth.

You didn’t feel the moment your balance broke. You didn’t feel your body abruptly flinching in recoil, nor when your back hit the hard floor. 

Only the raw feeling of exposed life, a Child of Ymir brought to their knees by Mankind’s weapons. The loss. Defeated, at long last.

Everything was red. Sensations gone, moving was agony. Silence was ringing hard, the world swaying. The smell of fire, the taste of metal. Body not responding. Muscles atrophied. 

Eyes opened. The left one remained in the dark. And your face was devouring itself from the pain.

And it hurt, hurt so bad - it was worse than anything before. It was worse than the fall, worse than the arrow. 

Each breath was death ignited on your face. And from there, all you could see was the sky turning black, the dark column of smoke elevating, already so high, hiding away the sun. You couldn’t hear a thing, only the ringing in your ears and chaos in your mind.

The world went dark. 

Silent, at peace - finally.

The sound of the wind through the branches. A few notes played on a piano. You thought 

This is it.

A sound. A sound that was not the sound of gunfire. That was not a scream of despair. A sound that had nothing horrifying. A familiar voice. It was your name.

Someone was calling your name. 

Only no one in these lands could have imitated its distinctive sound. Not in this way. There were only a few people who called you like that. Only one voice calling you with this intonation.

A familiar language that you had once dreamed of hearing on these lands. A voice that had resounded thousands of times on opaline surfaces and in too pristine halls. Now it echoed beyond the treetops, throughout the entire sky. It was calling you. That voice, so warm, so far away. Silver gleams already shining everywhere.

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