#[[ lets hope this centres correctly

[deanbrainrotwritings]

—   KEEP THE LIGHTS ON

SUMMARY : “Hi!! First time requesting a fic so if this is dumb.. well yeah. A fic where Dean and the reader are about to do it (😏😏) and hes very focused on her thighs/hips area and she's got stretch marks there and he traces/kisses/grabs them? It's rough, intense, and passionate? 😳😶 okay love you and your writing byeee 🏃‍♀️” — anon

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : none

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), smut, as always unspecified skin colour and weight (lol), 

WORD COUNT : 2.0k

A/N : close your eyes song title. I loved this request as soon as I got it, and that’s why it didn’t take long! I’ve seen some stretch marks are lighter than the skin and others are darker than the skin and also that they feel like grooves so, I hope this is okay! *insert Scott Pilgrim and the L-word scene bc I can’t say ILY* AND HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY Xx

You’d never been so comfortable and confident with a man before. Comfortable with yourself. Confident in your own skin.. Every insecurity you had in every other aspect of your life, sex-releated or not, flew out the window because you knew Dean. 

He had a way of making you feel beautiful all the time. Either with his facial expressions when you caught him staring, his words when you were alone, his actions at any chance he had to get his hands on you. He was very expressive, wordlessly so, and gesticulating. 

You had to get to know the real him to understand him and, you know… he’s complicated. He’s guarded, but beneath all that there’s a soft centre to him, like a brownie. And overall, he’s sweet and good and soft. Perfect. Like a brownie. 

Eventually, getting a read on him gets easier, but not entirely easy. Which is why he was currently taking your breath away with his lips moving down your neck and his hands tangled in your hair as he guided you down the hallway to his room. But only after admitting he’d been wanting to get you in his bed for years and you’d be damned if you let your fears and worries get in the way of getting your first taste of him after pining for him almost as long as he’d carried a torch for you. 

You had to be stupid to believe that Dean was shallow and cared only about a woman's appearance or attractiveness. You never thought you weren’t enough all those times Dean left with or hit on any women but you. All you thought was that he simply didn’t see you that way, which was only half of the truth. He wanted something more than one night with you and he just didn’t have the guts to tell you so. 

But tonight, after a sleepy hangout at the Dean Cave, after watching a variety of movies that Dean liked—movies he excitedly wanted you to enjoy as well when you said you’d never watched them before. And then going to the kitchen to get more snacks for the next film… 

Well, you don’t really remember what led to it, maybe you said something in your exhausted state. Or maybe he did. You had a feeling that if you made the first move and confessed something you wouldn’t have in the right state of mind, he’d hold it over you and tease you about it—if everything went well. 

Or maybe it was just a buildup of every little thing that the two of you shared with each other and all the history and all of everything else that you were. 

Now that you had his mouth on yours, quick and firm and desperate for attention and for a taste of you… You had a feeling making your stomach flutter. To some extent, the two of you were very aware of each other’s feelings and still decided to do nothing about it. 

What a waste of fucking time. 

Still, something about waiting made this much more intense. Your skin ignited at his touch when his fingers snuck up into your shirt. Your flesh became warmer and warmer after each rapid heartbeat, excitement from his wet, breathy kisses. The air in your lungs failed to escape correctly, failing to reach the full capacity of oxygen the more thrilled you became. 

You wanted to devour him whole. But all you could do was kiss him back with as much passion and fervour as you possibly could. Your palms smoothed up scarred skin, flushed and warm and taut. Your nails scratched and your fingers tugged at anything of his that you could hold onto. 

When you got to his room, he’d made your head spin more than it already was from his kiss when he pushed you into his bedroom door to shut it. 

“Sweetheart,” he moaned against your mouth and your breath audibly hitched. The sound of his voice, the way he spoke that pet-name to you made your stomach clench and your clit throb. Or maybe it was the way he pinned your lower body to the door with his hips and the way he held your gaze when he flexed his hand beneath your shirt, his fingers spread across your ribcage.

His other hand moved back up to your cheek and his thumb brushed against your cheekbone. Your lips parted at first when he did that and your eyes searched his curious eyes longingly, but he seemed to be on his own mission. You bit your lip anxiously instead as you attempted to maintain eye contact, your cheeks burned when his green eyes dropped down to your lips. All you could feel was his erection pressed into your soft skin through the flimsy layers of his pyjama pants. 

And then his cock twitched. 

It was driving you crazy.

Being this close to him felt like a chemical reaction. You bubbled as he came into contact with you and you could probably evaporate into nothing if you were just a reactant. You never thought you’d feel consumed entirely by a person as if they were a reagent. You’d be embarrassed if it were anyone else but Dean who made you feel this pathetic. 

Your eyes reacted faster than your body when Dean dove back down to capture your bottom lip. He sucked on it softly and rolled his hips into you and you breathed shakily against his mouth at the combination of pleasant sensations that occurred simultaneously. 

You buried your fingers in his hair and then you felt his own gripping your hips tightly. God, you wished he’d dig into you and mark you permanently, but instead your thoughts ran through the imaginary engine of a plane and turned into smithereens when his tongue entered your mouth.

He lifted you up and his hands slid roughly from your ass to your thighs. You clung to him and kissed him hard, pouring yourself wholly into the kiss until he drunkenly stumbled to his bed and dropped you into it. All the while, he was still completely attached to you and getting more desperate now that you were as malleable as dough in his expert hands.

He pulled away from you breathlessly, lips parted and wet and red and perfectly kissed. His cheeks puffed a little and he had a tiny smile that shined mostly in his eyes when they fluttered open. You thought you’d be sucked right into his dilated pupils as he admired you beneath him, but he went right back to your neck and your cleavage while his hands pushed and pulled away at your clothes to get you naked.

For the fraction of a second, your body snapped out of the trance he’d placed you in when you felt his fingers trace and dip gently into the marks on your skin. The magic was gone only for a few moments when you opened your eyes to him between your bare legs, he looked up at you in surprise. Surprised at your reaction.

“What?” He frowned at you. The cute pout made your eyes brighten and your body relaxed once more as you smiled down at him. 

You were hesitant and he was patient. And then his expression mirrored yours, smiley. But he was so soft, with those crinkles at the corner of his eyes, and those dimples above his pillowy lips. He didn’t even make a big deal out of it and that made you release a soft breath and with it, the tension disappeared from your body. 

“Are you sure?” You asked him, pressing your teeth into your bottom lip. He lifted a brow at you before both brows came together in amused confusion. He slowly pulled himself up your body and shamelessly dropped his hips at your centre, practically grinding his covered erection against your bare, wet core. 

You inhaled sharply and he smirked at you. He slid his forearm up beside your head to balance his upper body above yours and continued to brush his thumb against the lines you were more than familiar with that resided at your hips. 

“Wanna hear it explicitly, is that it?” He murmured, his tongue dipping out to pull his lower lip into his mouth. Then he planted his teeth on the shimmering, plump flesh. What a journey. 

You were amused when your eyes flickered back up to his and you pulled your own lip between your teeth. He was cocky and maybe it didn’t help that you were a mess beneath him, but you couldn’t help yourself. 

“I’m gonna fuck you hard in my bed,” he told you. Your eyes widened slightly and you breathed unevenly as he rocked his hips against your heat. “But first, I’m gonna memorise every inch of your body and I’m gonna make you wait ‘til I’m satisfied. And only then,” he whispered, dropping kisses along your cheek and jaw, “I’ll give you what you want.” 

You licked your lips and allowed Dean to move lower to pepper kisses along your breasts until he slowly made his way back down between your legs. Part of you wanted to whine when he brushed his fingers over your stretch marks again, but there was something about how casual he was about them that made you want to see where this was going.

“What do I want?” You grinned down at him just as his lips made contact with the lines in contrasting colour to your skin. He smirked and looked at you through his lashes. His warm breath tickled your thighs when he chuckled and you shivered, bumping his bicep playfully with your knee. 

“Me, I hope,” he answered, almost bashfully. He buried his fingers into your hips and pulled at your skin, following the lines that decorated your body while keeping his eyes on you. You squirmed as he continued to touch and mouth at your stretch marks. “But mostly, my dick.” 

You laughed, “what?” And Dean nipped at your hip, along a few lines on either side of your body and your body shuddered pleasantly. 

“You asked what you wanted. I said: me and my dick,” he recapped for you playfully. You rolled your eyes at him, but you couldn’t help smiling. Dean went from playful to sexy and dragged his lips down your pelvis. Your hips wiggled in anticipation and your breath became shallow, but Dean only breathed against your soaked cunt. “If… all ‘a this proves anything.”

The warm air slipping between his lips aroused you to the point of wanting to pull his face between your legs and trap him there with your thighs. You felt yourself turn hot at his words, both from embarrassment and from lust.

“Dean, please,” you begged with a whiny laugh. 

Instead of replying with something witty, he swirled his tongue around your entrance with a moan. You felt his spit and you held your breath when he flatted his tongue and dragged it up to your clit. You closed your eyes and arched your back when he sucked and flicked the tip of his tongue against your clit. 

And then it was all gone and your body became loose once more. You opened your eyes to Dean pulling his shirt over his head, exposing the freckled skin you’ve always wanted to kiss and mark with your mouth when you patched him up on hunts. 

Before you could get your hands on him, he got out of bed and pulled his pants and boxers down his legs swiftly. He barely gave you time to see, to admire what you came to accept as the prettiest cock you’d ever seen. 

“I told you,” he smirked, slipping between your legs and lowering himself on your body to kiss you. “I’m takin’ my time.” You groaned in protest against his lip, but eventually every complaint you had on taking it slowly dissipated from your mind as he pushed and pulled at your body in ways you didn’t think you’d liked until he began working your body. 

You didn’t want to admit it, but dammit… Sex with Dean was better and more satisfying than the sex you had with any other man. 

You couldn’t tell Dean that. Never. It’d go to his head. Rightfully so, but still. All you could think about is the embarrassment he’d cause you to feel by reminding you, every chance he had—with that smug smirk of his—about how good you said he makes you feel. Better than any other man. 

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[wilteddreamsofbaldursgate]

The Scent of Missing Buttons

Astarion centred || implied Astarion x gn!Tav || ao3 || Masterlist

Rating: M ; +18Word Count: +2.9k Warnings: prostitution, sex work, sex trafficking, PTSD, suicidal thoughts, no graphic description of sex act

He thought about his old brass buttons as he let the couple have their way with him. His doublet had thirteen buttons, if he recalled correctly. Six he had found on the floor. There was no way of telling where the others were. They had probably rolled under the bed or were lost in the gaps between the splintered floorboards. He would dare another attempt at retrieving them when these brutes were finally done with him. Going back to the master without either of them was simply out of the question. 

a/n: phew, that was hard to write. Don't forget to hug your vampire boyfriend today.

Neither the loud human nor the scrawny half-elf sitting on each side of Astarion cared about how witty or charming he was. All he had to do was sit still and smile while he endured the dirt-stained fingers messing up his carefully coiffed curls. The sweaty hand resting heavily upon his knee. The stench of days-old sweat radiating from their bodies.

Astarion gave the gawking half-elf a crooked smirk for no other reason than to loosen the building tension in his jaw.    

His marks usually came to him, and that night had been no different.

Astarion had noticed the couple looking over at him from the bar ever so often, giving him toothless grins while he’d pretended to sip on the cheap ale the tavern was pouring out en masse. 

Admittedly, the unkempt couple wouldn’t have been his first choice of company, but the night had been approaching eerily fast and Astarion could seldom afford to be picky. 

And so he’d met the couple’s shamelessly lewd looks through heavy-lidded eyes, giving them an inviting smile in return. 

It had taken them embarrassingly long to stumble over to his table, greeting Astarion with the stink of alcohol on their breaths. They must’ve started their night out drinking well before sunset—Astarion rather hoped to get it over with them fast.

Maybe they were already drunk enough to skip business and just follow him back to the master, he mused as the half-elf’s uncoordinated hand tried and failed to locate his groin. 

But then the human let go of his hair; Astarion could feel her sour breath tickle his ear and knew they wouldn’t let him get off the hook that easily.

He tried to subtly lean away from the human, but she was already dragging her coated tongue along his elongated helix.

Astarion shuddered in disgust.

“So much more sensitive than his,” the human panted. Her stupid delight was evident on her face as she indicated the half-elf who was barely an inch short of crawling onto Astarion’s lap.  

“You’re the prettiest thing we’ve ever seen,” she continued, mistaking Astarion’s visible disgust for arousal. Or maybe she was just ignoring his displeasure. 

“We want you.” 

All too easily, Astarion forced his well-constructed mask back over his features. 

Grinning, his fingers curled around the human’s bony wrist as he stood, pulling her with him.

“Wonderful, because I know a place where you can indulge in me all night long,” Astarion purred. “Somewhere quiet—just for the three of us…” 

The human giggled, though her partner eyed him with a slight hint of contempt.

“Our bed will do, filliken,” the half-elf mumbled as he manoeuvred himself off the bench they’d abandoned him on.

Astarion tensed.

Whore…

Even this piss-drunk mutt had taken only one look at him and known him for what he was.

Astarion had half the mind to bare his fangs, rip out the bastard’s throat. Decorate the dingy tavern with his innards. Paint the walls red. 

The human would come next. He would tear off her little ears and shove them down her stinking maw and, maybe, if he was lucky for once, some of the patrons were emboldened enough to drive a stake through his dead heart. 

From a distance, Astarion could hear the clock tower strike thrice and the master’s voice came to his mind.

Do not disappoint me again, boy…

The vampire spawn wet his lips, swallowed down his anger and lust for blood until they mingled with the soaring hunger in the pits of his stomach.

A moment passed. 

Astarion smiled. 

“Lead the way, then, darling.” 

The couple brought him to a cramped attic room right across the street. 

Dark mould grew on scratched windowpanes and it smelled as if the chamber pot hadn’t been emptied that morning.

Somewhere inside the walls, Astarion could sense a small colony of rodents scurrying to and fro.

He tried to focus on the erratic symphony of their heartbeats as he eyed the colourful range of fluids staining the sheets of an unmade bed.

It would be over soon—at least for that night. 

Astarion would deliver these two fools to the master in no time. Maybe he would even get a little treat for a job well done—a fat rat, or even a small dog, if he was being very good. 

And then he would rest in the shadows. Close his eyes to the buzzing city above, imagine the sun caressing his skin as it tenderly reduced him to ashes. 

The attic door slammed shut behind the human.

Astarion knew he would never feel the sun on his skin again, not even for the short moments between pain and salvation, because as much as he was a whore, he was an even bigger coward.  

He stood still as greedy hands began tugging at his clothes. 

The human giggled stupidly as her cross-eyed partner tried to undo the brass buttons on Astarion’s doublet. It was a rather pathetic sight, and before Astarion could assist him, the cursed half-elf ripped the doublet open. 

A curse ready on his lips, Astarion watched as his buttons went flying across the room. 

He doubted the master would afford him new ones any time soon; worse yet, he surely would be chastised for being so careless with his clothes again! 

Fuming inside, Astarion pushed the half-elf onto the bed and sank to the dirty floor where he crawled around to collect the buttons closest to him. 

“What a cute little pup,” the human laughed right above him. 

Her hand clawed at his locks again, and Astarion could feel humiliation merge with the seething mix of anger and hunger and hatred and disgust and—

Astarion pocketed whatever buttons he could retrieve, then rose to his full height.

The human’s hand fell away and her laughter stopped as Astarion crowded her against the rickety bed frame. 

She looked up at Astarion with round eyes. Perhaps, somewhere in the back of her booze-clouded tiny little brain, she recognised the danger she’d invited into her greasy bed. 

Astarion ran his knuckles along her jaw before his fingers curled tightly around her chin. She shivered. 

“Why don’t you two cosy up and just watch for a moment?” Astarion purred. “You like a good show, don’t you?”

“We like so much more than that,” she breathed, her eyes glassy with arousal instead of fear. 

Astarion almost scoffed. Stupid bitch.

“So much more you shall have.”

The human ran her calloused fingers over Astarion’s lean forearm before she eagerly joined her partner on their bed. 

The couple took in every part of his body as he undressed himself. 

They liked that he took his time because they didn’t know that, with every article of clothing that fell away, Astarion imagined ripping them limb from limb. 

A finger here. A foot there. The eyes that had seen entirely too much… 

Oh, how he hoped the master would make them suffer later. 

Allowing himself an honest smile, Astarion tossed his smallclothes atop the rest of his clothes and crawled onto the bed.

The doomed couple groped him roughly, drew their sharp fingernails across his skin. Used him. 

But that was quite alright; their night would end so much worse than Astarion’s. 

He thought about his old brass buttons as he let the couple have their way with him. 

His doublet had thirteen buttons, if he recalled correctly. Six he had found on the floor. There was no way of telling where the others were. They had probably rolled under the bed or were lost in the gaps between the splintered floorboards. He would dare another attempt at retrieving them when these brutes were finally done with him. 

Going back to the master without either of them was simply out of the question. 

Neither the wicked human nor the crude half-elf laying on each side of him cared that his well-timed groans were purely performative, that their touch made his skin crawl. All he had to do was please them, lure them away to their death. 

All he had to do was survive another night. Another year. Another century of nothing but pure shit.

How he wished it would end. Time was running out.  

Don’t you dare disappoint me again, you useless dirty thing…

The half-elf came first, then the human. It had taken them long enough. 

Astarion was quick to pull his shirt back over his head as the human watched him intently—he was sure she wanted another round. Good. This only ever played right into Astarion’s cards. 

The half-elf was a problem, though. He’d passed out the moment the last of his spend had added another stain to the nasty bedsheets. 

Astarion barely refrained from rolling his eyes; they would have to wake him, and that soon. They had places to be and daybreak was approaching fast. 

Astarion gave the human a crooked smile as he put on his breeches. 

“You’re very skilled, handsome,” the human said, taking the bait.

“Likewise, darling.”

She returned his smile as she untangled herself from the bedsheets and sat on the corner of the bed, never letting him out of her sight. 

Astarion slipped into his doublet. So far, he hadn’t spotted another missing button.

“Why don’t we repeat that—there’s a place I’m dying to show you. If we leave now, I promise you it will be unforgettable…”

The human’s smile widened.

“No.”

No?

Astarion wet his lips.

For a moment, he thought he’d misheard. 

No.

It wasn’t like this hadn’t ever happened before. But because it had happened before, Astarion’s hands began to tremble ever so slightly. 

No meant trouble.

No meant failure.

No meant punishment.

“You see, we don’t fuck the same thing twice,” the human said, that arrogant grin still plastered across her hideous face. 

And then she tossed Astarion some coins—laughably few coins at that. They wouldn’t even buy him some cheap ale from across the street.

Astarion was too stunned to catch the coins. They rolled around his feet before they dropped to the floor with a final mocking clink.

He stared at the dirty change, even spotted one or two of his lost buttons among them.

“Pick them up.”

Astarion’s eyes met the human’s, who licked her lips. 

She wanted him to crawl again. Like a dog. Like trash. Like the rat in a cage that he was. 

Astarion turned and fled from the attic room. There was nowhere to go, though; the city’s dirty streets only lead to one end.

The clock tower struck five times. Far in the distance, the sky turned indigo. 

There was no time to find another victim, Astarion knew, as he prowled the shadows.

But he couldn’t return empty-handed, either. 

Astarion considered dragging some passed-out drunk from the next alleyway back to the master. It wasn’t too bad a plan, wasn’t it? 

But the master liked his playthings sharp. He wanted them to be aware of what he did to them. He so delighted in their screams.

And if those poor fools couldn’t scream, Astarion’s screams would have to make do instead. 

In fact, they were the master’s favourite. 

Come to me, boy.

“Shit. Shit. Shit!”

Astarion should’ve gone down on all fours and crawled at that bitch’s feet; begged her to come with him.

He was a fool. He was so fucking stupid. He deserved any punishment the master deemed fit. 

He couldn’t do anything right.

Astarion shot another look over his shoulder, fearing to see the sky having changed colours again. 

But instead of being painted with dawn, the sky… tore open?

People started to scream. They ran from the flying ship that had appeared out of nowhere. Its tentacles chased after them, picking them off the streets one after another. 

Astarion should join the fleeing drunks and alley cats, he thought. 

But, really, what could be worse than what was waiting for him at the master’s feet? 

Astarion stood still; he could be very good at that. 

And unlike the master’s punishment—unlike the nightly humiliation that was his cursed existence—it was over in one blissful moment.

Neither the annoying wizard nor the nosy cleric sitting on the opposite side of the dying campfire cared that they were interrupting Astarion in his plan of bedding you. That night, he’d already endured yet another long-winded retelling of the young warlock’s heroic feats. Listened to the prickly warrior loudly sharpening her blade. Suppressed a laugh at the fiery tiefling’s silly joke. 

He wanted to be alone with you. Look at that cute little smile that had only needed one glass of watered-down wine in order to grow this wide. Subtly close the empty space between you and him sitting side by side on a smooth wooden log.

He wanted to breathe in the herbal fragrance of your soap without anybody watching.

The first thing Astarion had ever noticed about you was that, even covered in the blood and grime of your enemies, you smelled nice.

It had taken him days to figure out that the pleasant scent surrounding you didn’t emit from your washed hair or reasonably clean clothes. Once Astarion’s raging hunger had been sated enough, he’d even understood that it wasn’t your delectable blood that made his head spin.

No, your subtle yet unique scent simply lingered as naturally on your skin as the sunlight did on Astarion’s face these days. 

It was just you that smelled good, and it slowly drove him mad.

Astarion’s plan was simple enough. All he had to do was please you, weasel himself into your bed and good graces. Only then was he as safe from the master as he could possibly be out here in the wilderness. 

But you just had to make this difficult; you didn’t fall for his charm and flirtations. Instead of swooning, you just frowned at him whenever he tried to seduce you—and gods was he trying. And failing.

If he were to lean over and bluntly propose sex to you right then, he was sure you would reject him. The very idea of both excited and terrified him at once.

The wizard and the cleric only excused themselves when the sun’s first golden fingers started to part the night sky.

Astarion watched them vanish into their respective tents, finally leaving you alone with him. 

He stole a glance at you and found you already looking at him. 

Maybe this was his chance. Astarion couldn’t afford wasting another night, not when the master was breathing down his neck at any given time.

“And what are we two pretty things going to do with the rest of the night, darling?” 

You scoffed. “Night? It’s almost morning.” 

“Ah, you’re quite right, of course. With the right company, one can lose track of time so easily, no?” 

“Indeed,” you yawned. “Now let’s get some rest, Astarion. We have a long day ahead.” 

Astarion wet his lips. 

Shit.

What was wrong with you? 

What was wrong with him? 

If he couldn’t even get his stupid little plan right, then maybe he deserved his master’s wrath. 

Astarion picked up a crooked branch and poked around the fading embers.

If you didn’t want his body, then what use did you have of him? He was just some idiot. A whore nobody wanted to fuck. He was—

“Oh!” You exclaimed, suddenly. “I forgot!” 

Astarion, trying to not let his growing desperation show on his face, watched as you excitedly produced something from your pocket. 

You scooted closer to him; your knee brushed against his thigh and your smile grew as you looked up at him. Instinctively, Astarion breathed in your scent.

Then you opened your hand, revealing thirteen buttons. 

The rising sun reflected prettily on their golden surface.

Astarion tensed.

“What’s that?”

Your cheeks reddened, looking as if you’d just scrubbed them clean down by the river. 

“Your doublet—it doesn’t close properly, doesn’t it? So I thought, well…buttons.”

When Astarion neither reached for the buttons nor said anything, you slowly let your hand sink.

“I could sew them on for you,” you offered sheepishly. “I’m sure they’ll look very nice on you.”

Throwing his now broken stick aside, Astarion rose to his full height.

“I don’t want them. Go to bed. We have a long day ahead,” he said courtly before he all but fled to his tent.

The sun burned on Astarion’s skin but didn’t reduce him to ashes. He never was afforded any luck.

He watched you walk far ahead of him, leading your companions through the woods. This far back, he could barely catch your lovely scent. 

Not for the first time that day did he wonder what those buttons you’d offered him would’ve cost him. 

Wouldn’t any price have been worth it?

Astarion had been a fool again. 

He should’ve just thanked you, watched your quick little fingers close the chasm in his chest with nothing but some thread and pretty buttons. After that, he should’ve pressed a lingering kiss to your cheek. Take you into his arms.

That’s what he wanted to do, if he was being honest.

But he hadn’t done any of this. His doublet was still shoved to the very bottom of his pack and he hadn’t looked you in the eyes all day.

Because as much as Astarion was a whore, he was an even bigger coward.

That was all to him there was.

The vampire spawn looked over his shoulder but couldn’t see much of what lay behind. 

The golden sun was too bright in his eyes.

As usual, all he could do, though, was endure.

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[patriwoso]

with moose

alexia putellas x child!reader

You skip into the training centre, holding mama's hand and clutching your stuffed moose that was gifted to you from Ingrid and Mapi in your other.

"Mama, how long today?" You ask, looking up and your mama with big blue eyes, your blonde hair tied neatly into two small braids.

"4 hours today, babygirl. Not as long as yesterday." Alexia picks you up and carries you in when your walk becomes sluggish and she decides she cannot wait for you to pick up speed again.

You insisted you wore your Barcelona jersey with your shorts today instead of the matching top that would usually go with it. Choosing your purple away jersey with MARÍA LEÓN 4 on the back.

"I play toys with Mapi today." You tell your mama, dropping your head on her shoulder as she carries you through the building and to the canteen where a few of her teammates are already sat eating breakfast.

"Hola Y/N!" Aitana smiles to you as your carried past her table.

"Beunos dias y/n" The canteen chefs smile to you, Alexia holding you on her hip still as you tell her what breakfast foods to put on your plate.

"Grapes mama." You watch carefully as she puts each one onto the plate next to your sausage, making sure they don't touch otherwise it would send you into a complete meltdown and no one wanted that at 8 in the morning.

Once your meal had been plated up for you, Alexia sat you down at a table with Mapi and Ingrid before getting her own breakfast.

"I got moose today, Ingy!" You grin and lift up your moose to show Ingrid, using the nickname you have always used since you couldn't pronounce the norwegians name correctly. You get a little too excited though, putting your moose onto the table to show her and knocking over your juice cup in the process, it spilling all down your lap.

"Mama!" You shout, bottom lip trembling and tear beginning to fall down, earning the attention of your mama by the sounds of wailing and crying. Mapi and Ingrid try to help you with some tissue and napkins to soak up the liquid on your legs but you cry louder for Alexia.

"Oh princesa." She sighs, picking you up from the juice puddle your sat in.

Your cries earn the attention from everyone in the canteen, only telling them what's wrong when they see the soggy bottoms and the drink dripping onto the floor.

Alexia shushes you and wipes your teary cheeks, taking you out of the canteen to change your wet clothes.

In the locker room she sits you on her lap and takes off your soggy shorts, pulling on a fresh pair from your peppa pig backpack.

"All clean y/n/n." Alexia smiles down at you and you bury your head into her. "Let's go finish breakfast."

You toddle back into the canteen and find the soggy juice spot no longer soggy. Ingrid had put your moose in the window so the sun would dry it off.

"Look Mapi" You grin as you eat your sausage, turning around so she can see her name on your shirt.

"Wow! Does that mean you'll be my partner today in training? We will kick the ball together, yeh?" She smiles, reaching to help chop up more sausage for you.

You nod, shoving more of the food into your mouth before your mama tells you to stop eating so much in one go and to use the fork next to your plate.

"Mama where Patri and Pina?" You ask, searching around the room for your other favourite duo. "I want to sit on Patri's lap Mama." You slide off of the seat but before you dash off your stopped.

"Mi amor, you only see Patri if she has finished her breakfast." She tells you, looking around herself to see Patri and Pina sat on a table with Mariona, Cata and Laia.

You nod eagerly and run over to Patri.

"Patri! Patri! Patri!" You put your arms up and stomp your feet, hoping she'll pick you up on sit you on your lap.

With you luck, she does. Who wouldn't?

"Buenos dias chica." She picks you up and pops you on her lap. You go shy and suck on your thumb, turning your head away from the rest of the table. You can hear your mama asking Patri if it was ok for you to sit with her, hearing the answer you relax more and cuddle your favourite midfielder.

-

Jona let's you out onto the field to watch the training session. You hold Alexia's hand as you walk out along with the other girls, looking at all the footballers around you.

"Mama I play ball like you when I get big." You tell her, hearing the 'awwws' from her teammates. "I play in the goal" You add, running onto the pitch and standing in the goal, getting all excited and waiting for someone to kick the ball for you to save

Of course they only kick it gentle, and allow you to save their 'shot'. After all, you were only 3.

Mapi scoops you up in her arms and spins you around, celebrating that you saved Ingrid's shot. "You have some competition Paños!" She shouts over to Barcelona's number 1.

Alexia sets you up on the edge of the field with a colouring book and some pens, sitting next to Mariona who is injured.

"What are you colouring today?" She asks you, looking at the book.

"Mermaid" You tell her, eagerly trying to get the picture finished, scribbling the colours on and sticking on a googley eye you found in the pen pot. "Is a norway mermaid for Ingy and has a moose too" You tell her in your toddler babble, pointing to the moose you attempted to draw in the corner of the page.

"This is moose" You pick up your stuffed toy, colouring forgotten about, and you show Mariona the animal.

"From Ingy when it was my birthday and I was three." You hold up 3 of your little fingers to show Mariona your counting skills. She smiles and chuckles softly to herself.

"Does it have a name?" She asks.

"Mama moose." You tell her. "Becuase I call her after mama" You explain to the forward.

"It sleeps in bed with me and I cuddle moose"

-

When training was over you ditched Mariona and the colouring pens to run over to Ingrid.

"Ingy I colour you a picture!" You hold it up and she takes the sheet from your hand, crouching down to reach your height better.

"Wow, Y/N! She is so pretty! I love mermaids!" She grins, kissing your head softly.

"And a moose" You point excitedly at the moose you drew, a big toothy grin on your face.

"And a moose! You are such a good drawer!"

"Y/N!" You turn your head to see Mama Alexia calling you over to pick up your pens as it is time to go.

"Mama, we play ball at home?" You ask as you walk back into the changing rooms.

"Sí, we can play ball.

"With moose?"

"Sí, we can play ball with moose"

[hoonvrs]

ICE ICE BABY — p. sunghoon

PAIRING sunghoon × fmr

DESC. skating date with hoon gone wrong??

GENRE est. relationship, fluff

WARNING swearing

W. COUNT 1.2k

S. NOTES HAPPY BDAY TO THE LOML AND MY BOYFRIEND ILY BF MWAH

pulling some strings to rent out a whole ice rink after closing wasn't easy.

thankfully mrs. park kept most of her connections from sunghoons skating days and came to the rescue when you told her your date plans for his birthday.

safe to say sunghoon was beyond confused when you pulled him around with so much excitement it was rolling off you in waves. he could almost see it through the fabric on his eyes, “is the blindfold really necessary?”

“yes, don't want to spoil the surprise, duh,” you kept pulling him hoping he wouldn’t notice the sudden drop in temperature walking past a set of doors.

as soon as you had him standing directly in front of the entrance to the rink, you walked behind him carefully taking off the blindfold, “ta-da!”

it took him a few blinks to adjust to the harsh lighting above, looking around in confusion when he starts to realise where you’d taken him. suddenly, a pair of white skates is shoved into his hands, “how did you even get these?”

you put a finger up to his lips, shushing him with a little shake of your head, “no time for questions. put them on, let's skate!”

a lightbulb turned on in your boyfriend's head, you could see it in the way his eyes lit up with an ominous smile spreading across his face. he wasn’t oblivious to the copious amount of fan fiction his fans have written about him — maybe he’s read one or two here and there — so he wasn’t entirely new to the ‘figure skater park sunghoon takes his girlfriend on a date where he teaches her how to skate’ trope.

the idea of seeing you wobbling on the ice like a fawn learning how to walk sent butterflies to his stomach, leaving him no option but to be your knight in shining armour as he approaches and takes you by the hand as he glides you both around the room as a love song starts playing in the back.

sunghoon should really stop reading those fanfics.

he couldn’t hide his excitement. rushing to put on his skate, even having to start over lacing it a few times because he kept messing up but as soon as they were both on and secure, he made a beeline for the ice.

getting on the ice was like meeting an old friend. something warm and familiar, comforting in a way only he could feel, and he couldn’t wait to introduce his first love to his last.

except he constantly forgets that throughout your whole relationship, nothing has ever gone the fairy tale way his fans have depicted, feeling the giddiness in his belly drop dead when he turns to see you getting on the ice.

the issue wasn’t you joining him, but how you did. knitting his eyebrow watching you trying to familiarise yourself with the new footing, “why aren’t you shaking?”

”what,” you looked at your boyfriend puzzled. you should’ve prepared yourself honestly, sunghoon has a track record of saying the weirdest things at odd times.

“why are you good at this? aren’t you meant to be falling and holding onto the board for dear life?”

now it was just two idiots staring at each other at a loss, “hoon, babe, i can skate.”

a pout settles on his lips, casting his eyes down before skating off at an ungodly speed, “hey! don't leave me!”

your skating skills were average at best. i mean, you can walk and maybe speed up a little but nowhere near your athlete boyfriend who was doing rounds around the rink like a hamster on crack.

huffing under your breath you decided to just let him tire himself out a little as you tried to find your footing correctly, so you didn’t fall and break your back.

once you got to the centre you heard a pair of blades skim the layer of ice right behind you, “are you done with your little hissy fit, babygirl?”

“don’t call me that,” he scowled. he walked straight into your line of sight, remnants of the pout still there. slowly he grabs both of your hands into his, interlacing your fingers together as he starts to pull you along.

“want to tell me why you’re sulking?” 

“i’m not sulking.” sunghoons ‘cold ice prince’ image must be a big rumour that got out of hand because how could someone so cute be intimidating?

once he slows down his pace you slip out a hand, gently placing it on his cheek, “tell me.”

you can see him trying to avoid eye contact as a rosy hue starts to creep up from his neck to his face that he’d probably try to blame on the cold if you mention it knowing that both of you know he’s practically immune to the cold at this point, “i just, i kind of wanted it to be like those books where i try and teach you how to skate cause you’re shit at it but it’s okay cause i’m here but i can’t even do that.”

surprise isn’t even the word to describe what you’re feeling. how could such a small confession make your heart flutter and your cheeks warm?

“i mean, i’m no professional. guess this means we're skipping the basics and you have to teach me some tricks, live out your coaching dream through me.”

seeing his demeanour instantly change should’ve been a warning in itself.

“first lesson, triple axel! get some speed and momentum then when you’re ready quickly push off the ice and life your knees but make sure to—“

a hand covering his mouth interrupted his rambling as you look at him as if he’s suddenly grown a second head, “how about we start with some spins then get around to the jumps, hm?”

nodding his head enthusiastically he doesn’t waste any time. it takes you a minute to get the hand of spinning on literal ice without feeling like you would fall fat onto the ground, but you soon got the hang of it.

you managed to convince your boyfriend that was enough learning knowing if you tried anything else you would run your battery straight to zero before you could do what you planned for the rest of the day. now you were back hand in hand, gliding around the perimeter together.

sometimes you think that sunghoon does things without thinking, this for instance.

once you guys are both safely skating, all two feet on the ice then next thing you know you find yourself colliding with the ground, the fall softened by your boyfriend's body below you because something possessed him to believe he could pick you up mid skate like he’s seen with skating duos even though the man himself has never done it before, never mind with a amateur skater like yourself.

“oh my god,” you screamed, not being able to hold back from laughing straight into his face. sunghoon looks at you, fondness swirling in his eyes watching you struggle to catch your breath, “are you stupid? why would you do that?”

he ignores your question choosing instead to scan your face, noticing your nose has gotten red at the tip and your lips a little pale, “your lips look cold. want them to meet mine?”

“shut up,” before he could respond you pushed your lips against his, sharing soft kisses to stop whatever other cheesy pickup line he could come up with to escape.

and although the air around you nipped at your skin and could barely feel the tip of your fingers you felt warm inside.

just you, sunghoon and his first love.

perm taglist @mesopret @whoschr ​@haknom @shinsou-rii @redm4ri @lacimolela @llama-lyna @boyfhee @lazysmushi @flwoie @kocokookie @kyexvly @seongclb @dammit-jjk @flwrshee @produmads ​@teddywonss @aleiouvre @dneltrise @aleiouvre @nyxvrse @yohanabanana @whois-alexis @tinyegg @sserafimez @satsuri3su @yuemvi @chirokookie @idk-tbh777 @s00buwu @ynsvnte @isawritesss

[blitzxiiru]

U talked about people giving u scar ideas (in my case even more scar ideas).

P.S.: I LOVED the picture of Leo you drew with electricity scars! They looked very cool! I like how you did, at least with that picture, made them glow, just to make them stand out a bit more; looked awesome. Also, Leo looked hella feral in that picture, and I am ALWAYS here for feral Leo, lol.

And I just saw some clips and amvs (one of those clips being from TMNT clips tumblr) where Shredder almost crushed Leo to death and also threw him very far, hitting a car. I would link it, but tumblr hates me, and doesn't let me (at least currently) link stuff anymore in asks (maybe the Tumblr Gods will let me do so again someday...).

And then later on, in a different scene, he started trying to crush Leo's throat with his clawed hands (man, Shredder, haven't you already done enough damage to Leo's throat and/or windpipe, like sheesh, man!).

Also, since someone mentioned April (you drew her so pretty! And I liked the scars you gave her), Casey defin. would have SOME scars too. Like, for sure some head ones, pretty sure that dude got some and/or a lot of head injuries in that show and/or just scars from being such a brawler.

Also, Raph and Karai are brain worm/brain worms scars buddies! I say that, but that is sad as hell, poor Raph and Karai. I could see them bonding over it though. And Leo and Mikey just worrying about them when they talk about it (Donnie would too, but like, Leo is very much an overprotective sibling and would worry about and/or dote on his siblings/family/close friends, and Mikey worries about his big bros a lot, and knows when they are upset) sometimes.

we fr giving these boys more scars as if they don’t have enough of it already HHAHAHHAHA

thank you!!! i had a hell of a time time drawing that piece btw, it was super fun to draw feral leo. he really deserves to let off some steam.

i think i remember that scene, there was actually a recreation of it during that halloween episode in season 5 if i recall correctly?? poor boy got his arms crushed twice, by the SAME damn person..

shdgsjbdjsbd thank you again <33 april and casey was great to draw too, dude you have no idea how much i needed to touch up on drawing actual people since being hooked on tmnt bc i went literal weeks drawing turtles instead of humans LMAO thank god for muscle memory or else i would’ve forgotten completely. and, yes, absolutely! casey would def have some head injuries, and more centring around his arms and hands too. he’s buddies with mikey, since they both get head injuries so frequently.

karai and raph would tease each other about their brainworm scars lmao, they’d compare which one is nastier and neither would back down until the others have to mediate the two idiots into a draw. this happens everytime they meet btw

hope you enjoy my little doodles about these senarios :)

[wycroftie]

Crazy about you 💚 || Edward Nashton x Reader | Part 1

Request from @delenygma

Word count: 1.1k

Not proof read

This is a bit of a nothing burger, it’s just sort of a build up to an idea I have but let’s hope I can execute it correctly since I haven’t written fanfic in like 7 years lol. Part 1 of.. who knows. Enjoy!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sent to printer, awaiting release.

The window sits at the centre of your screen. A small sigh leaves your lips as you stretch in your chair, the dull ache in your back easing slightly. These god awful office chairs provide zero support for your back but it’s not like it matters anyway. You spend so much of your time hunched forward, sitting on the edge of your seat. You’re always like that. On Edge.

It’s been around two years since you started your job at KTMJ. You were so bright eyed, excited. You’re not sure why exactly you chose Gotham. It was partially the idea of independence but mostly the cheap rent. Granted your apartment isn’t much, but it’s yours. You earned it. It’s a place to call your own. You’ve furnished it more and more over the years, the apartment grows more and more cozy every couple months as you grow more weary. More tired. It’s like the colour from you has drained, you’ve grown.. dull. That’s what Gotham does to you.

Over the two years, you’ve realised how.. corrupt this city is. From the inside out. Some underground faceless people with far too much money, the spores from which the vast system of mould springs from. You can’t help but think about how bleak and hopeless this whole city feels. The false niceties from your coworkers stopped after around 2 months into your job, everyone else returning to their cliques and since you refused to take part in any.. “office gossip” . You’ve been cast out.

The only person who never made a show of being so disgustingly nice was Edward Nashton. He tends to keep to himself, you’ve tried to start conversations with him but he seems to just.. flee from you. God.. are you just that unlikeable? It’s like they can sense you’re not from around here, an outsider trying so desperately to fit in where they don’t belong. You’d leave this god forsaken place if the idea of starting over wasn’t so.. terrifying. Just the thought has your chest feeling tighter, your hands trembling. What if it’s like this everywhere? Maybe you should just.. wait it out. Eventually they’ll accept you. Maybe. Hopefully..

In the meantime, you’ll just keep your head down and get on with your job, eyes on the clock until 5pm. You’ll get on the same subway train as you have for the past 2 years and go home, cook dinner and browse the internet. The routine is a bit sad but it keeps you sane. Now what were you…

Oh yeah, the printer..

Your footsteps are muffled by the dull carpet as you walk through the corridor towards the printer. The sound of keyboards and chatter always fills the air, it’s never silent here but you don’t mind.

You slow to a stop just before you round the corner to the room where the printer sits, resting your hand beside the doorframe. The wall is cold. This whole building is so... bleak. Uninviting. Almost clinical. You peer around the corner to see your coworkers laughing and chatting, it should be a nice, warm sight but all it does is fill you with dread. Your stomach drops and you are suddenly very aware of the sound of your own breathing, your hands growing slightly clammy as you continue to rest your hand on the beige, chipping paint.

Shit..

You bite the inside of your cheek and lip as you imagine yourself walking in and interrupting their conversation. All of their eyes on you, the sound of their voices dying down as you approach the printer..

Stoplookingatmestoplookingatmestop-

You sigh, trying to calm your racing thoughts. There’s another printer upstairs in the accounting department, you’ll go there. You wipe your clammy hands on your dress shirt, partially because of the sweat and partially because of the tiny specs of paint that seem to stick to you every time you as much as touch the walls.

As you walk you can’t help but think about how selfish it actually is.. taking up that space. Laughing and chatting away and leaving you out of the loop.. is it your fault..? Maybe if you’d have entertained the gossip and mindless conversations of your coworkers you wouldn’t feel so-

You’re ripped out of your thoughts by the sound of paper scattering to the ground.

Shit!

You quickly scramble to your knees, messily pulling all the paper into a pile. You’ve just bumped into someone because you were too busy mentally stewing over your (most likely) unjust hatred and discomfort for your coworkers. It’s sort of like karma I suppose..

“I-I’m so sorry!”

You manage to choke out. God you sound so pathetic. You can only wish that a black hole would magically appear under you and swallow you whole to save you from this situation.

You look up to see non other than Edward who quickly kneels down in-front of you, trying to scramble to pick up paper with you. You hear him mutter something but can’t quite make out the words, your eyes are suddenly very focused on his hands, shaking slightly as he gathers the paper. For a moment, your hands graze against each other, your fingertips tracing over his knuckles ever so slightly as you reach for the same sheet of paper.

The slight touch leaves you feeling dizzy, your racing thoughts pausing just for a moment. It’s sort of embarrassing how flustered the interaction leaves you. Your heart races but for once, it’s not from the relentless anxiety that plagues you. It’s… excitement. Joy. It’s been so long since you’ve felt like this. It’s been so long since you’ve felt the touch of another person like this. You can’t help but look up at him just to try and catch his reaction.

His clear framed glasses sit on his nose, his brows are knitted together in concentration or stress, you can’t tell really, his cheeks slightly rosy and his lips pressed tightly together as he finishes gathering the paper. His green eyes bore into yours for just a split second. Before you know it, that split second is over and he’s stood up again, paper clutched in his hands so tightly it’s slightly creasing. You look up at him before he rushes off. Quiet words leaving his lips, not quiet enough for you to miss it.

“Thank you.. sorry..”

Your heart clenches at his words, you open your mouth to reply but he’s gone before you can even speak. Why is he apologising? It was your fault… You stand up slowly, your other hand gently touching your fingertips where your hand grazed his.

You need to see him again.. not for any weird reason. You need to make it up to him, that’s all. Maybe bring him some coffee? But how does he even take his coffee? It would be so weird to ask him, you’ll just find out yourself.

[xmads-omensx]

Noah Comforting You As You Grieve

Masterlist

Content warnings: Mentions of death of a family member, grief, comfort, very mild mentions of angst, fluff, swearing, crying, mentions of burn out

This is a heavier one, so if that’s not your thing no worries and stay safe! <3

Pairing: Noah Sebastian X Reader

Tags: @industrialdreadhead

I hope I did this justice <3

When you first got the call about your family member passing away, you were in a state of denial. There was no way that could be happening. You had only spoke to them last week.

The anger you felt took you by surprise, but Noah was there to help calm you down and to hold you as you cried and screamed when you needed to. He sat quietly, with you curled up on his lap, head buried in his cheat as you cried, slowly and gently stroking your head.

He started humming to you as a way to calm you down, which helped you go to sleep, and calmed you down greatly.

You had retreated to the bed that you and Noah shared, seeking some form of comfort by yourself.

After a week had passed, the day of the funeral arrived and you were exhausted. Luckily, Noah was right beside you the whole time. He helped you get ready into a simple black outfit and even brushed your hair for you.

He led you to his car and held your hand the whole way there. Not letting go unless you let go.

When you arrived at the location of the funeral, he wrapped his arm around you and held you close to him, needing you to know that he was there for you.

Your family loved Noah, and hugged him as well when you entered the building. Luckily, it was a relatively small affair with closest family and friends only, so you didn’t feel as bad when you needed to cry. Noah held you the entire time, rubbing affectionate circles on your back.

That night you got home and curled up in bed straight away. After about an hour Noah brought up two plates of food. He had cooked your favourite comfort meal for the both of you to eat whilst you watched a cosy film in an attempt to distract you from the events of the day.

You felt better the next morning after getting a decent night sleep, and waking up curled up in Noah’s arms was definitely a plus.

The guys also helped a lot over the next few days, sending you stupid pictures of Noah doing dumb shit at the studio to make you laugh, sending you tik toks that reminded them of you and bringing your favourite snacks with them when they came to hang out at your place.

even if they made you smile a tiny bit, it was a win. Their contagious joy always spread to you no matter what, and you could already feel the weight on your shoulders begin to lighten.

Going back to work was harder.

You lacked motivation and energy to focus on it.

You began to feel burnt out as you were so tired.

Noah knew how you felt to an extent, so was able to help you by getting you to work for short periods, then taking a break, before going back to work. Luckily, your boss was completely understanding of the situation and didn’t put too much stress on your shoulders.

Some days you felt a lot better in comparison, so Noah would take a slight step back to try and get you out of your shell more, but was always there in case he needed to step back in again to help you out.

The pain you felt came and went in waves, so it was hard to predict when you did actually need Noah to help you. He was usually there just in case, but when he wasn’t, the guys were.

Matt even brought you a few plants and things he had been growing in his garden.

This project of keeping them alive really helped you.

He showed you how to plant them, feed them and look after them correctly.

Noah wasn’t sure if he was a fan of you taking over the back garden, but if it got you out of the house he didn’t mind.

Matt even took you to the garden centre to help you pick out your own plants and tools. He bought you a pair of gardening gloves with little pink roses on them.

You had been doing considerably better over the last few weeks thanks to Noah and the guys. You weren't back to your usual happy self, but there was an improvement.

The grief you felt never quite went away, but having the reassurance of Noah by your side definitely took away some of the pain.

[dozing-marshmallow]

Would it be alright of I request some headcannons for Chris x co-host reader? Where the reader enjoys the show/challenges the show puts the contestants through just as much as he does? Thx!! 💕

P.S. I really enjoy your writing!

Hi there! Absolutely! And thank you so much, I’m so happy to hear that you enjoy my writing! 😊 Enjoy!

CHRIS MCLEAN X CO-HOST READER HEADCANONS

Regardless of how high your reputation was, this was still Chris’ show; you were lucky to be on it. 

If he thought you were hogging the spotlight for too long, he wouldn’t hesitate to interrupt you mid sentence.

Alike the man in question, you had your humble introduction, and screen time explaining the concept of Total Drama to the audience alongside him.

You quickly became famous for interjecting Chris towards the end of his explanation of orders to the campers, with filthy suggestions that poured more weight on their behalf.

Wouldn’t help when you covered your lips in pretend apology.

Unlike Chris and Chef, who chose to eat in the separate tent away from the contestants, you went out of your way to eat in the mess hall, same time as them to rub it in their faces the better quality of food you got in comparison to theirs.

Some of the nicer contestants like Owen and Beth begged endearingly for a share, whilst some of the daring contestants such as Duncan and Leshawna spat curses on you.

Needless to mention, you never let them have that slice of heaven.

There was an episode where Chris let you have complete control over the challenge and whether or not it was a reward one.

“In spirit of the summer camp, I’ve decided on a gardening challenge.” You explain to him,“Each contestant will pick a seed to plant, and they will be given no instruction to what their seed will need in order to grow, so if they’re really stumped, they may be allowed to get a look at their respective seed guides or swap out their seed...in exchange of answering ten questions correctly. These questions can be about anything ranging from humanities to math. For that process, we’ll have them locked in a glass chamber with an easily accessible separate compartment above them filled with all attainable enemies of gardening. Fruit flies, mosquitos, lacewings etc.” 

You pause to look at Chris, seeing how he’s catching on where it’s going by his restless face expression,“For every question they answer wrong, the hatch will open automatically, slowly. First team that’s able to have all members grow something will win.”

“Wow! Okay, that’s a really good challenge idea. I’m surprised I didn’t come up with that!” Chris commended you, before he broke out into laughter,“It’ll boost the ratings for sure!” He notices your ready tray of seeds and begins reading out the labels,“Talipot palm... Raspberries... Potatoes... Tomatoes... Hey (Y/N)...” he finds you already beaming at him,“This is a guess...but don’t a lot of these seeds need at least a month to grow?”

“Exactly.”

Also known as the episode of which they do not speak of.

You never understood how in spite of that, you were still the more favourable host to the contestants.

Maybe because you weren’t as self centred as Chris?

Either way, you used every figment of hope to remind them that you aren’t there to make anything easier.

And you remained that way, up to where the show was supposed to be over, had it not been for Owen deciding to gamble his luck and kicking off a new game.

“Owen’s definitely lost his win now.” You comment wearily.

“Tell me about it.” Chris yawns,“I’m so bored. Wanna get back to the lodge?”

“Say no more.”

Long story short, you basically called it- not only did Owen lose his money, but thirteen other contestants got tied with him.

Given the situation, Chris declares a new immediate season, where you would be cued to open an empty briefcase for the producers to have someone edit wads of cash in.

However, you accidentally open up the wrong briefcase, this briefcase storing a pack of water snakes that slithered out onto the planks and into the lake, causing the contestants of the future season(apart from Izzy) to scream and frantically swim their way onto land.

It was a ridiculous scene, but what can be done? You and Chris laugh as the final episode of the season comes to a close.

You’re already looking forward to what happens next! And you have a good sensation the contestants feel the same.

[m-jelly]

All I need - Chapter 1

@ladycheesington <3

Levi x fem!reader Future Fic, Romance, Drama & Romance, Falling In Love, mafia, Gangsters, Alternate Universe - Gangsters Violence, Love, Confessions, Love, True Love, Fluff, Protective Levi, Possessive Levi, Gang Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut

You become the centre of Levi's world after a collection of debts your runaway ex put you in goes wrong because of a new kid not following Levi's orders correctly. Levi makes it his life's mission to protect you, care for you and give you everything you could ever want. As love blossoms between the two of you, things around you start to fall apart. Multiple people are working to stop Levi and take the power he has over the city. With multiple enemies working against you and assuming you're Levi's weakness, Levi shows them all just how powerful you make him.

A gangster romance with love, smut, romance, fluff, gore, lies, secrets and violence.

This chapter: Your now ex left you in debt with a gang and you're left to foot the bill. The debt collection goes wrong and the leader of the gang, Levi, comes to see you personally. Levi protects you and keeps you close. He takes care of you taking you and others by surprise.

Trigger warning: The reader is attacked and beaten in the beginning of this story.

Ao3 link

Part 2

It was driving you insane what had happened over the last few weeks. First, your boyfriend showered you with too many gifts and then he started to get paranoid like someone was watching him. Second, his things in your shared apartment started to disappear but he was at home a lot. Third, he vanished and left a note on the bed saying he was running off to earn more money and pay for all the debts he’d put you in.

Debts.

You had no idea that he had debts and put anything in your name. The most heartbreaking thing of all was he took everything from your account and left nothing. You had no money left to pay for bills and your rent. The only thing you had left was money in your savings, which you had been saving up for your dream home in the city.

As you faced your landlord while fighting tears, you were slowly losing your mind. No matter how much you begged him to let you stay for a bit longer, he wouldn’t let it happen. You even offered him some money in your savings until you made it to your next paycheck, but he simply said sorry and that someone was already interested.

It didn’t take long for you to pack your things up because you had sold a lot to get some money. The move to the next apartment was awful. It was tiny with just the basics. You had a lot of neon lights outside from shops, meaning your place would always be lit up even with blinds up. The rain did leak in a bit as well, so you were always cleaning it up.

As you made some instant ramen for dinner, you were wondering if your life could get worse than this. You wanted to know if more things could go wrong. You had a little hope in you that things could go well.

While you were holding out hope for life, something was happening that was going to change your life. The bad things in your life were not done with you yet. Your now ex had not only put you in some debt that you’d paid off with your savings, but he’d also gotten a debt with the mafia and they wanted to collect.

Levi gazed at the new kid and Mike. “This is a big debt. Tch, the shit owes me a lot and there are a few in his girlfriend’s name.” He said your name softly as he said your name written on the contracts. “Cute name. This writing looks like his. So, I’m assuming he signed her name.”

Mike hummed. “Likely.”

“What’s the update? He disappeared and so did she. You locate them?”

Mike nodded. “In a new apartment. Want to send the new kid?”

Levi looked the kid up and down. “Tch, oi? Do this right and you’ll be part of the group. Go to the apartment and see if you can get the money. Got it?”

The kid saluted. “Yes sir!”

“Go.”

The kid hurried off out of the base and into his car. Excitement filled him as he thought about his job. This mission was the first one he’d been sent on his own. He couldn’t wait to prove to his boss Levi that he should be in the scouts. He believed he was a vital part and Levi would think he was the best thing ever.

It was drizzly when he arrived at the apartment block. He landed his hover car on the platform and made his way inside. The kid was hoping that you didn’t have the money so he could break you to get the money. Levi had never approved of breaking someone to get money, but the kid was sure he would be proud if he got a lot of money from you.

He slammed his fist against your door a few times and waited. As soon as you opened the door he slammed his fist hard into your face and knocked you to the floor. “Where the fuck is the money.”

You touched your face and felt blood. “M-money?”

He closed the door behind him. “You owe my boss a lot of money.”

“What money?” You welled up. “I don’t understand.”

He punched you across the face again. A rush of pleasure went through him when you screamed and your blood coated the floor. His fist wrapped tightly around your shirt allowing him to lift you. “You and your boyfriend took a loan out with my boss and he wants the money.”

“My boyfriend skipped town. He stole all my money and ran. I don’t know where he is or what he’s doing. Please.”

He shoved you against the floor and gripped your neck tightly. “Liar.”

You gasped and kicked your legs. “S-Stop!”

“Your boyfriend is here. Call for him!”

You welled up. “He’s…not…”

“Oh, Danny! Come out!” He gritted his teeth as you looked on the verge of passing out. He released your next and growled. “Fucking stupid bitch.” He stood up and slammed his boot down on your arm causing you to scream. “Give me everything you’ve got.”

You whimpered. “I’ll send you the last of my savings. Tell your boss I’ll slowly pay him back each month.” You shivered as you fought your tears. “Please.”

He released you. “Send.”

You tapped on your communicator and sent the money across. “It’s yours.”

“Good bitch.” A sense of pride filled him. He got a lot of money from you, it wasn’t enough to pay off the debt but it was enough to make Levi happy. With this pride in him, he decided to take things further and slowly started trashing your apartment as you begged him to stop. He walked over to you and kicked you to the floor a few times. “Dumb bitch. I’ll be back soon.”

After leaving you he felt like he could run miles, drink bottle after bottle and fuck anyone he wanted. A false sense of power filled him. To him, he felt like there was no shot Levi would deny him a chance to be a scout. He did everything to make Levi proud. First, he had to report to Mike.

Mike sniffed the air once the kid returned. “I smell blood.”

The kid smirked. “For a good reason.”

Rage filled Mike. “What did you do?”

“Something amazing.” He shoved Levi’s office door open and grinned. “I got your money!”

Levi turned to face the kid and noticed his knuckles and shirt had blood on them. “Why is there blood on you?”

“Well, the dumb bitch needed to learn a lesson. So, I beat her black and blue, choked her a bit before trashing the place. She sent me the last of her savings.” He laughed hard as he thought about you. “What a pathetic bitch she was. Begging me to stop and that Danny wasn’t there. Said that I took all her money too.”

Levi’s foot connected with the kid’s gut and sent him smashing into the metal office door causing a dent to form. The raw power behind Levi’s hits was frightening to anyone. “I never gave you permission to lay a hand on her.” He walked closer as the air got thick and a darkness came over Levi’s face sending pure fear through the kid. “You beat a woman whose boyfriend had left her and you took all her money. This apartment she is in now? It’s the cheapest shit in the city, you dumb fucking piece of shit!”

Mike placed his hand on Levi’s chest. “Boss? We should focus on a girl needing medical attention, not this shithead.”

Levi pushed back his hair to return it to its tamed combed-back way. “You’re right.”

“Shall I send a medic?”

Levi shook his head. “I’ll go to her. I have to beg for her forgiveness for this moron. Make sure Hange sees him for discipline. Got it?”

“On it.”

Levi walked down the hall and sighed. “I’ll treat her. Tell the others not to bother me. I’ll update Erwin too.”

Mike dragged the kid down the hall. “I’m sorry I was a bad teacher to this one.”

Levi paused in the lift and looked at his friend. “You are not at fault for his stupidity. He thought his dick was bigger than it is. The fault is in him, not you. You’ve trained a lot of good members. I’ll be back soon.”

“You got it.”

The feelings inside Levi right now felt like something was burning him. No matter how hard he tried to push it down, it was still boiling up inside him and he wanted to hurt someone. The wheel groaned under Levi’s angry grip as he made his way to your apartment. He was thinking of what to say to you, but all the things that came to mind were just pure anger towards the kid who did this to you.

He parked up and went through the apartment block until he reached your door. He didn’t expect you to open your door to him, so he had a story ready and a lot of apologies. He gripped his medical bag, lightly rapped his knuckles against the door and held his breath a moment.

You pressed the small window and gazed out at Levi. Your heart skipped a beat as you took in the most handsome man you’d ever seen. “C-Can I help you?”

Levi flinched at your projected voice. “Hello. I’m Levi Ackerman. I believe a fucking piece of shit came here earlier and hurt you. I am sorry. He was in training with my people, but now he’ll be punished. I want to fix what he’s broken. I have a medical bag.” He lifted it for you to see. “I want to help. I’ll pay for the damages.”

You whined. “I can’t pay you back though and I already owe you money because of my ex.”

“After what that shit stain did to you today while using my name, I am wiping the debt clean for you.”

You gripped the door handle. “But my ex still owes you?”

“I will break him if you let me.”

You giggled. “Please do.” You opened the door a little. “Please excuse the mess and my face. I’m trying to clean up.”

Levi’s eyes widened as he took you in. Both your eyes were bruised up, your lip was cut, your nose had bled and there were marks on your neck. “Fuck.”

You smiled sadly. “That bad?”

He blushed. “Sorry. I just…I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay. You’re here to fix it, so it’s okay.” You waved him in. “Come on in.”

Levi slipped his shoes off and made himself at home. “Thank you.”

“Can I get you a tea?”

He looked around your place to see the damaged things gathered in the corner ready to be fixed. “Uh, I think you should relax.”

You walked over to him. “You having tea with me would help me relax.”

He gazed at you as his heart fluttered. Your voice was incredibly soothing to him, your smile was infectious, your body divine and there was just something about you that drew him to you. “I’ll take that tea then.”

“Wonderful.”

“I’ll set up everything.” He placed his medical box on the table, used his fingerprint to open it and started getting a few things out for you. The way you looked it seemed like some bones had either been broken or cracked, so he needed his best stuff. “Have you done anything yet to try and heal your wounds?”

You returned to Levi with his tea and yours. “I tried. I can’t afford much right now. All I could do was fix my ribs and arm with bone healing. I think he cracked something.”

“Shit.”

You sat next to Levi. “All I need is the face stuff.”

He nodded and picked a bone healer. “I think you have a cracked bone where your cheek is. Are you okay with me using the healer?”

You clenched your fists as you felt nervous. “Yes, but I’m not looking forward to the pain. The bone healers are horrible.”

His touch was light as he held your chin. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“I’m so tired.”

He hesitated momentarily when he saw the exhaustion and pain on your face. “Forgive me. This is only for a moment, okay?”

You whimpered. “Okay.”

He pressed the healing pen against your cheek and injected it. He flinched you grabbed his arm tightly and cried in pain. “I’m sorry. Just a bit longer.” He pulled back and rubbed his thumb over the wound. “Better?”

You sniffed. “Mm.”

Instinct and feelings overtook his actions leading him to kiss your cheek. As soon as he registered what he did he released your cheek and pulled back. He blushed when you smiled sweetly at him before and leaned towards him for a kiss. Levi held his breath and moved closer but you flopped forwards against him after passing out.

Levi released a long sigh before looking around the room. “Hmm.” He lay you down on the sofa before looking around your place. It was all one room and just a blind to hide your toilet and shower. “Where does she sleep?” He stared at the sofas, the blankets, the pillows and a little cushioned board that would attach the two sofas. “Fuck me…poor thing.”

Levi scooped you up into his arms and carried you to his car. He carefully placed you in the back before loading all your belongings into his car, which wasn’t many. As soon as he had everything he drove to the best hotel he owned and parked in his spot. First, he took you to the best room and lay you on the bed, then he added your things to the room.

He went to the bathroom and ran you a bath so you could relax when you woke up, he even made sure to add something nice to the water and put the towel on the radiator. Room service was ordered for you and Levi made sure that everyone knew that anything you asked for, or ordered, was on him. He wanted to make sure you were as comfortable as possible. He knew very well you’d wake up and try to pay him back for everything, so he had a plan.

Your eyes flew open as you inhaled deeply. “Levi.”

Levi sat on the bed with you. “I’m here.”

You looked around a little. “Where am I?” Tears filled your eyes as you felt slight fear. “I’ll do anything to get your money back to you, but I won’t sell my body to you or anyone. I’m sorry! I can’t.”

Levi cupped your face. “Shh, shh, I’m not asking that.” He wiped your tears away. “I don’t support that at all, okay? Besides, the debt you’re talking about is not yours, it’s your ex’s.”

“But he put things in my name.”

“I know, but I can tell by meeting you that you had no idea about it.” He hugged you. “Sorry, I felt like you needed this. Look, everything in your name has been moved to him, okay? Besides, if anyone is in debt to anyone it’s me to you. Someone in my name hurt you and damaged your things.” He pulled back and smiled a little at you. “I owe you and you owe me nothing.”

You pulled and played with the bed cover. “Mm, so, you want to help me?”

“Yes. I’ll give you anything you need.”

You gulped hard. “A good paying job?”

He chuckled. “I can get that arranged. It was my plan anyway. I know just the job for you and I will pay you well.”

Your eyes sparkled as you gazed at him. “Really? Amazing.” You gulped hard. “Thank you, Levi. I’m shocked at how much you’re helping me. You’re nothing like the rumours.”

“I’m glad.” He held your hand. “Now I’m taking care of you and I employ you, I am making a few changes. For starters, your apartment is no longer your apartment. I will sell it and you will be living here for a bit until I get you something better.”

Your heart fluttered. “Really? But-.”

He kissed your hand and smirked at you causing you to gasp and go quiet. “I take care of my employees. I’ll also pay you in advance and I will get some clothes sent here for you. Anything you need, let me know. Got it?”

You were so enchanted by his gaze that you just nodded and agreed with him. “Yes.”

“Good girl. Now, head to the bathroom and enjoy a nice hot bath. Once you’re done there go into the living room area and eat up everything there.” He pinched your cheek and wigged your face. “You deserve the best.”

You gripped the sheet tightly as a mixture of feelings went through you. At first, you thought Levi might hold affection towards you, but then you started to think that maybe he saw you as a young sister that he had to take care of. You didn’t mind because it meant at least someone cared about you in this sad city.

Two weeks had gone by and you were still in the hotel room recovering from being beaten. Your bruising had faded and your bones no longer felt funny. Levi had come by to see you almost every day. All Levi would do was check on you and give you some gifts before staying over for a while. The two of you would either talk, hang out a little or just sit in comfortable silence. It was nice to enjoy each other’s company.

Today you’d been alone for most of the day. You had grown so accustomed to Levi’s company, that you missed him. It was clear he was not coming to visit you, so you decided that you’d enjoy yourself and relax for the day. So, you run a hot bath with plenty of nice things in, heat your towel along with your dressing gown before getting in.

As soon as your body hit the water it was in pure heaven. All your aches washed away causing sleepiness to consume you. You closed your heavy eyes and softly slept in the big comfy bath. All your cares and worries in the world were gone. Even though Levi was a leader of a deadly and powerful gang, since meeting him you felt so safe and cared for. It was odd to seek comfort with a man who can and has killed.

Levi felt bad that he hadn’t come to see you all day, but he had a lot of meetings and needed to make sure your job was all set up. The job he had made for you was just a front and kind of fake. A building had been set up with a reception desk area that only people with ID approval on their communicator could get in. The work Levi was going to get you to do was just organise his emails a bit, send some messages for him, review mission reports for him and sum it all up in a smaller report. It was nice and simple for you.

He searched for you around your hotel room, but could only find evidence of your presence. The last place he checked was your bedroom and you had left your bathroom door open. He glanced inside to see you in the bath with your eyes closed. A slight jolt of fear went through him as you lay there unmoving. He hurried inside and checked your pulse to find your heart beating.

He released a long sigh and pulled away from you. “Tch, thank fuck.”

The sweet sound of Levi’s voice caused your eyes to flutter open. “Levi?”

He quickly turned his back to you when you started to sit up. His cheeks burned at the image of the top of your wet breasts came to mind. He used every ounce of his willpower to think of anything else, but it was hard to when you were moving about in the bath behind him. His hands shook a little as nerves consumed him. Normally he was smooth talking with people and confident, but you made him a mess.

You climbed out of your bath, dried yourself and then put on your dressing gown. “You can look now.”

He turned to look at you and felt his heart flutter. “Sorry, I came in here. I saw you lying there and not moving and I got concerned. I’m glad you are well.”

You fidgeted on the spot. “I’ve never had anyone care so much before. Thank you. I am well. I uh…I was worried about you because you were a while.”

He reached over and caressed your cheek. “You missed me?”

“I did.” You pulled from his touch with the belief that he held no love in his heart for you. Your heart was damaged and fragile, so it was difficult to imagine someone would care for you without a catch. Plus, you believed that Levi was only helping you out of guilt. “Are you here to make sure I’m eating well? I am if you’re asking.”

He emptied your bath as he hummed a little. “I am here to tell you about your new job.”

You sat down on a seat in the bathroom. “Really? That’s exciting.”

He nodded. “Yep. What you’ll be doing is checking emails for me, sending messages out, reviewing reports and then converting them into smaller ones to send to me. There’s no pressure either.”

You smiled sweetly. “Sounds like a great job.”

“I’m glad you think that.” He tapped on his communicator on his arm. “Sending you your first month’s pay.”

You looked down at your comms, the amount that came through made you gasp in shock. “Levi, this is too much.”

He hummed a laugh. “I think it’s not enough. I know you’ll be good at your job and you’ll help me out a lot.”

“When do I start?”

He rolled his sleeves up to reveal his arms were covered in tattoos. “Whenever you want.” He noticed you were staring at his arms. “Is it the muscles or tattoos that have your attention?”

You gulped hard. “Tattoos. I can tell you’re covered in muscles, but I didn’t expect the ink.”

He hummed a laugh. “I’m covered in tattoos. I have a few spots free that I intend to put something special there.”

“For a lover?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

You hummed a laugh. “What if it doesn’t go well with your lover?”

He cleaned up the tub as he thought. “Well, I intend to make it work with them. I don’t throw my love around.”

“Have you ever been in love?”

He stared at you for a while. “I have two exes and both I tried to love, but failed which is why I am not with them and I don’t have a tattoo. I know I’ll find the one. I have a strong feeling they are close.”

You fiddled with your dressing gown. “I’m happy for you.” You rose to your feet. “I’m going to change and probably go to bed. I fell asleep in the bath so I am taking the hint that I need sleep.”

“I’ll stay over. I have paperwork to do.” He watched you for a moment. It was clear something was bothering you and he was hoping that maybe the connection you had already would help. He waited a while so you could change before joining you. He softly called your name as you climbed into bed. “Something bothering you?”

You sat in bed and hummed in thought. “I’m just thinking things over. My situation and everything. I’m so grateful to you for what you’ve done. Thank you.”

He walked closer to you. “You feel guilty, don’t you? I want to treat you. This is all my choice.”

You welled up a little. “I don’t understand why you’re doing it all.”

“Because you don’t deserve the terrible things that have happened to you. You deserve good things in life.” He reached over and rubbed your cheek. “You deserve happiness.”

“Levi.”

He smiled a little. “An I uh…I li…I…I li.” He winced at his comms going. “Tch, shit. I have to get this. Excuse me.”

You smiled at him. “It’s okay. I’ll get some sleep. Thank you though. I feel better knowing your reason for helping me. I think I’m just…that damage Danny did.”

Levi pinched your cheek. “You don’t need to explain yourself to me, okay? Also, when I find that piece of shit I will make him wish he was never born.”

You giggled. “I can’t wait.”

He tucked you into bed. “I’ll be in the living room if you need me, okay?”

You curled up under the covers. “Thank you.”

Levi made his way to your living room and sat. He released a long sigh and thought about everything. His heart longed for you but he wasn’t sure if he should pursue anything because you had been hurt, your heart had been damaged. Walking into your life and loving you was not the answer to your problems. No matter how much Levi longed to be yours, it just wasn’t the right move right now. All he needed to do was look after you, give you the space you needed and watch for signs of when you were ready to receive love again.

For now, Levi was going to find your ex and drag his sorry ass back to this city and make him pay. He tapped away on his communicator and called the best tracker in his gang. “Sasha? I’ve got a job for you.”

“Hey, boss! What can I do for you?”

Levi sent all the information he had over. “I need you to find this man for me. He skipped town after gaining a large debt. He left someone wonderful to suffer because of it. Find him for me and when you do, do whatever you want or can to drag him back here.”

Sasha laughed. “You got it, boss, I’m happy to hunt and hurt him.”

“I appreciate this. You’re doing me a big favour. I’ll call you later.” He ended the call and gazed out of the window at the neon city with cars flying by. “Mmm, she deserves better.” He glanced down to see Hange’s name light up. “What can I do for you?”

Hange grinned. “I have some great news for you! I did a lot of research on the girl you’re looking after.”

“Oh?”

She giggled. “I am sending it over now. Looks like she was dating Danny for a year and he was good at first, but then the debts started a few months in. She was saving money for a dream home in the city.”

Levi gulped hard. “Send me a picture.” He tapped away on his comms and smiled at the cute apartment that was a little high up with a wonderful garden. “So cute. It fits her well. Well, I think we should work on making her dream come true.”

“Great idea! Now, can I ask why you’re doing all this? I’m curious Levi because you’ve never done this before.” She hummed a laugh. “She special?”

“She is.”

“You going to ask her out?”

He looked over at your door. “Not yet.”

“When?”

He ruffled his hair. “When she’s ready.”

“Baby steps with her. You’ve got this.”

Levi smiled a little. “Thanks.”

As Levi pulled up in the car it allowed you to look out at the building where you’d work. It was tall and shiny with a few pretty plants outside. You climbed out of the car and clutched your bag tightly as you admired the place. Happiness filled your heart because it was the most perfect place to work. The best part about it was Levi was leading you to the doors. The more you looked at Levi, the more your heart yearned for him.

Levi beckoned you closer. “This door will open for you because I have uploaded an ID to your communicator. Anyone without one won’t be able to get in.” He pushed the door open. “This is your office.”

You gasped in delight at the tidy and cute desk Levi had set up. It had wonderful soft and gentle colours on it, with a few little cute cuddly toys. The computer screen was nice and big for you. The mouse pad had a little dog on it and matched the sweet theme of everything. You adored the officer chair and thought the bunny ears on top were a cute addition. There was a snack cupboard and a fridge for you, along with a nice tea and coffee station.

Levi pulled the chair out for you. “Take a seat.”

You sat down and enjoyed how comfy it was. “This is nice.”

He leaned over your shoulder and whispered against your ear causing you to shiver. “I’m so glad. You wanna know the best thing about this job?”

You turned your head and gazed at Levi. “What?”

He eyed your lips for a moment before looking deep into your eyes. “No customers. It’ll be incredibly rare that someone will come here. Isn’t that good?”

You giggled. “Yes. I love that.”

“I’m glad.” He pulled back and hummed. “I’ll be working here in the office behind you. If you need me, you call for me.”

You nodded. “Promise.”

“Good girl.” He walked towards the door behind you. “I mean it. Call me if you need me for anything at all, even if it’s for a chat.”

You waved to him. “I promise.”

You waited for Levi to go into his office before you tapped on your keyboard and saw you were logged in thanks to your communicator. You stared at your empty emails and felt a bit useless, but a wonderful email came through from Levi. He made your heart flutter at how sweet he was in his welcome email. You replied to him and smiled at the emails that came through, along with a to-do list.

When you studied the to-do list, it didn’t seem like that much for the day which wasn’t too surprising. A part of you suspected that this job was just a front for Levi’s shady business, but you didn’t mind at all. Levi was kind and sweet to you, so you were happy to do anything he asked of you. You got to work right away and enjoyed the delicious snacks and food Levi had bought you.

As lunch came, you ordered some food to be delivered to the building. When the delivery machine arrived you opened the door and took all the food. You were about to close the door but an old man slammed his cane on the door and shoved it open. You backed up a little before blocking his path because Levi had clearly told you that you would never have contact with customers again.

You gulped hard. “Sorry sir, but can I help you?”

“Help me!? Help me!? I don’t like your tone of voice! And look at you, ordering food and grabbing it from a bot right in the front door where customers enter!”

You flinched at his tone. “Sir, we’re not a business. This building just has me and my boss in. We just process reports.”

He pointed at you. “Are you calling me stupid? How dare you!”

You felt panicked and tried to keep your cool due to years of customer service. “I’m sorry, sir, that was not the intention of my words. May I ask the reason why you wish to come into this building?”

“Why? Do you not know? My god, when I was your age we knew what we did in our jobs. These days all you young people just sit around and don’t care! This world hates old people! I am here for my money!”

You gripped the bag of food. “From Mr Ackerman?”

He shoved past you. “That’s what he’s called now, huh? They’re always swapping people around and getting rid of the old experienced workers. Now these places are full of young people who have no experience!”

You hurried after him. “Is it taxes? Council tax? Pension?”

He glared at you. “Why should I tell you!? You’re just a receptionist! Go get your boss, a real man! I demand to see him!”

You placed the food bag down on your desk. “Mr Ackerman is a rather busy man. He deals with a lot and-.”

“Are you saying no to me? What kind of customer service is this? You stupid pathetic woman! I pay your wages! I want to put in a complaint about you! Everything has gone bloody downhill! I’ll have your job.” He slammed his cane down on the floor. “You are prejudiced against old people! I’ll have your job for that! I promise you, you little fat tramp, you will be out on your arse in a heartbeat if I was your boss!”

You fought your tears and took in a deep breath. “Mr Ackerman deals with clubs, bars and shops. He doesn’t deal with pensions, taxes, benefits or council tax. We do not accept customers in this build. You are in the wrong place, I am sorry. Now if you tell me why you are here, I can help you out.”

He swiped his cane and smacked your leg with it. “Don’t you talk to me like that! Who do you think you are? I’m not some senile old man! I used to work for a place like this you know? It was far better when I was younger! I want this Mr Ackerman out here now.”

You winced a bit. “I will go get him, please just take a seat.” You limped to the back door and knocked. “Levi?”

The door slid open and Levi’s soothing voice called your name. “Come in.”

You limped inside as you fought tears. “Umm. Some old man forced his way into the building and started calling me names and shouting at me. He hit me with his cane and demanded to talk to you. I’m so sorry. I tried to get rid of him for you. I’ve failed you on my first day.”

Levi hurried over to you and held you as you cried. “Shh, it’s okay you haven’t failed at all. Tell me what happened.” He listened to your story in between your sobs. “So cute, you got us lunch.”

You sniffed a little. “I did.”

“Thank you.” He softly wiped your tears away. “You are amazing, okay?” He released a long sigh. “You did so well against him, but remember it’s okay to ask for help.”

You hummed. “I just didn’t want to bother you.”

“You could never bother me.” He cupped your face and nuzzled his nose against yours. “I’m here for you, okay?”

A warmth washed over you from Levi’s words and touch. You felt safe. “Yes, Levi. Thank you.”

He released you and pulled his blazer off to show he had a tight-fitting waistcoat under. Next, he rolled his sleeves up to show off his tattoos. No matter how much he tried to put his hair back, a few strands kept falling out of the hold of the product. He glanced over at you. “You can stay here or join me. All I will say is, I’m not going to be friendly. In my world, it doesn’t matter how old you are or where you come from, if you show no respect you don’t get any.”  

You clasped your hands together before your chest as your eyes sparkled in awe. “I like it.”

He stormed out of his office to see the old man messing up your desk. “Tch, oi! What do you think you’re doing to my girl’s desk!?”

“You’re girl.” You softly whispered as your heart fluttered.

The old man was ready for a fight, but as soon as he locked his eyes with Levi it seemed as if he recognised just who he’d disrespected today. “Levi Ackerman?”

Levi snarled. “That’s right, and who the fuck are you? You came barging into my office. You disrespected me. You disrespected my place and worst of all” he moved closer with a menacing aura “you disrespected my girl. Now, kindly tell me what the fuck you want and why you are here because as far as I’m aware, I have no meetings today with shrivelled-up old cocks like you.”

The old man shook a little. “I thought…I thought this was…”

“This was what? Some place you could shout at poor hard-working people just so you could get your thrill for the day? So you could feel big and powerful, huh?” Levi spat his words at the man. “Pathetic. Picking on people who are doing their best in life because you think the world owes you everything? You probably did jack-shit for the world. You’re a greedy old fuck who needs to reflect on his life. I bet you’re alone, aren’t you?”

“I-I.”

“You made yourself that way.” Levi pocked him in the chest. “Your selfish and self-centred ways pushed everyone away. Why don’t you try doing things for others for a change? Maybe thank hard-working people for doing their job. You’re so focused on yourself that you don’t even realise how others may feel. The world doesn’t revolve around you.”

The old man lowered his head. “But I…”

“Did you ever stop to think about her? About maybe how your words could hurt? Plus, she isn’t a fucking mind reader. If you have a goddamn problem, you tell someone! She wanted to help you but you shut her down at every opportunity because you wanted to be this big ol’ dicked boss. Oh, and also? She was right. This place does not have customer service. I bet you were here about council tax, right?”

The old man mumbled a little. “Yes.”

“You got the wrong building. You need the other side of the city. I bet you knew you were wrong, so you took it out on her. It’s not her fault you’re stupid. It’s not her fault you got it wrong.” He walked over to the door and shoved it open. “Get out before I report you for hitting her with a cane. Yeah, U heard and I have cameras in here.”

You hurried over to the old man as he limped away with a strong blush. “Excuse me? I hope whoever hurt you in the past who made you like this suffered. Just because you’re hurting doesn’t mean you should hurt others. I really did want to help you.” You smiled softly at him. “Not everyone is out to hurt you. As a wonderful man once told me. Show respect and you get respect.”

The old man sneered at you as if you repulsed him. “I don’t need some mafia whore giving me therapy.”

Levi grabbed the scruff of the man’s collar and threw him out. “She gave you a chance and you fucked it up. If I see you near her again, I will beat your okay leg with your cane until the bone shatters.” Levi slammed the door closed and growled. “Un-fucking-believable. I should rip his spine out and use it to choke him!”

The rage inside Levi faded in an instant when you cupped his face with your soft hands. The sweet and bright look in your eyes made him melt. It was like you were a beast tamer. Instinct took over him causing him to nuzzle his face against your hand for comfort. He grabbed your hips first before pulling you against him. He held you for a while before releasing you.

Levi hummed a laugh. “Maybe I should add hugging to your job description.”

You giggled at how playful he was being. “Maybe. I like to see it as a fun bonus.”

He blushed bright red at your words. “W-We should have lunch.” He left you and grabbed the lunch bag. “Come on, let’s go.”

You hurried after him and went into his office. “Is it okay that I check my leg? He hit me rather hard.”

Levi placed the bag on the coffee table and looked over at you. “Where did he hit you?”

You touched your upper thigh. “Here.”

Levi gulped hard. He knew he needed to look at the wound and assess it, but at the same time, he was nervous about touching your sensitive thigh and looking at you without your tights on. “I ah…need you to lift your dress and take your tights off so I can look.”

You hummed and slipped your shoes off first before wiggling off your tights. “Sure.”

Levi could not take his eyes off of you. Something tingled inside him as your tights slowly dragged down your legs to reveal your soft and biteable skin. He wanted to bite and suck on your skin. He gulped hard as you lightly played with the bottom of your dress before pulling it up to show your thighs to him.

You turned a little. “My left thigh.”

He knelt before you and gripped your thigh. “Fuck.” He stared at the big wound. “He hit you hard.”

“He did.” You felt Levi’s grip on your thigh tighten with his rage. You reached down and played with his hair. “I’m okay. You’ll heal it.”

He looked up at you as he lightly massaged your thigh. “I will. I’ll fix it.” He rose to his feet and looked down at you, his big muscles and dominant look making you feel so small and yet protected. “Take a seat on the sofa, okay?”

You sat down and watched Levi closely. “Thank you. You always seem to be helping me out.”

“Well, because I want to.” He walked over to you with his medical bag and began rubbing the cream into the wound. “This should help.”

You hummed. “Thank you.” A shooting pain made you flinch. “Ow.”

“Sorry. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. You’ve done so much for me and you’re very delicate.” You smiled as you watched him work. “Your girl, huh?”

Levi’s cheeks went red. “U-Uh, y-yes. I-I meant that uh…that you uh…that you’re with me, you know? You’re um…protected by me.” He reached over and held your hand. “You’re mine.”

You smiled a little as happiness filled your heart. You knew there was a tiny chance this was a romantic claim to you being his girl, but in your eyes, Levi was too perfect for you. You were damaged goods and you felt like you’d only cause him pain if you got romantic. However, you had hope that there was a chance because he wasn’t any ordinary guy. Levi was a strong and deadly leader of a criminal group. He had control over a lot of the city and its money. Levi could protect you and care for you like no one has ever done before. You could tell by Levi’s words, his gaze, his touch and the way he smiled at you that you meant something to him.

[her-satanic-wiles]

October 20th

Foodplay, Aurora x Reader

Masterlist

Words: 4.7k

Warnings: Food play; hella sapphic (I was in a mood and decided to make it everyone else's problem lmao you're welcome); slow burn; chef!Reader; established relationship; blindfold; semi-public; marking; nipple play; biting; spit as lube; fingering; praise kink; cum eating; recommended listening: Opera.

Taglist: @sodoswitchimage @enchantedbunny @bitchywitchygardener @thew0man @sodomiser @the-did-i-ask @copias-sewer-rat @gehrmansbignaturals @deetz-ghuleh @onlyhereforghost @zombiesnips-blog

This is another favourite of mine, please enjoy!

🔞 MDNI 🔞

The Ministry kitchens had been dimly lit by hundreds of long, black candles, flames flickering with the gentle breeze that flowed through the air conditioning vents and cooled the metal room. The gentle and sweet tones of classic opera were floating around the room to hush the electrical hum of the kitchen appliances and make the room feel just that bit more atmospheric.

Aurora had no idea you were planning this, but now she was back off tour and Papa had given her a significant chunk of time to just exist, it felt like the perfect moment to reconnect with her. Her helmet was off, her long hair tied back in a low ponytail and your hands covered her eyes as she walked tentatively into the room.

“It smells great.” She commented, though still a little nervous. She didn’t know where you were and that was what she didn’t like.

“I hope so, it took me ages to make it all. Okay.” You removed your hands from her eyes and took a step back. You couldn’t see her face, but her audible reaction was enough to elicit a beaming smile from you.

“You did all this?” She asked, clearly pleased by the surprise.

“Well, Papa helped decorate. I wouldn’t let him go near the food for obvious reasons.”

Her beautiful hands came up to cup your cheeks as she pulled you in for a gentle kiss. “Thank you so much! I love it!”

“You’re welcome.” You wrapped your arms around her waist. “Welcome home.” You gave her another kiss before you let her go. “Right, tonight we’re playing a game.”

“Oh?”

“I have been practicing how to make these dishes to absolute perfection. I want to blindfold you and see if you can tell which dishes they are.”

“How many are there?”

“Six.”

“Six!?”

“Three meals and three desserts.”

Aurora sat at the table in the centre of the kitchen and rubbed her hands together. She tried looking around in the darkness for some hints or clues to help her tell which dishes you’d cooked, but she couldn’t see anything from her position. So, she sighed. “I’m ready, let’s go!”

You gently tied the blindfold around her eyes and made sure she couldn’t see what was happening in front of her before you ran to grab the food. You lay each item out in front of you, giving yourself easy access to each dish.

“What happens if I don’t guess them correctly?”

“You don’t get to eat tonight.”

Aurora slapped you playfully. “Don’t you dare!” She paused. “What happens if I guess them correctly?” Her tone was a little suggestive in comparison to her last question.

You sat down on the bench next to her. “What do you want to happen?”

Aurora just smiled at you. “What’s the first dish, chef?”

The first dish was perhaps the easiest of the three but by no means the least delicious. Spaghetti carbonara; a delicious dish made with spaghetti, eggs, Pecorino Romano cheese, guanciale (or pancetta), and black pepper. The luxurious richness that envelops each strand of al dente spaghetti in a delicious embrace is the first flavour to meet your taste in a dish like this.

A tantalising role is played by the salty, savoury overtones from the crisped guanciale or pancetta, which gives the dish a delicious smokiness that lingers and creates a pleasing contrast with the creamy sauce.

The Pecorino Romano cheese, which generously coats each forkful with a robust and salty tang, greets you as your teeth sink into the pasta. It embraces you with its nutty, salty embrace. By adding depth of flavour, this cheese counteracts the dish’s richness with its distinctive sharpness.

The dish becomes more complex with its taste, and adds a zesty, mildly spicy kick thanks to the finely ground black pepper that has been cracked and sprinkled throughout. It offers a soft warmth, similar to a warm embrace on a chilly night.

You twirled a fork in the pasta and tried to gather as many of the ingredients as you could in a small enough bite so as not to make a mess and make Aurora embarrassed. “Open wide for me.” You told her, your voice low and soothing against the backdrop of Pavarotti and the Philharmonia Orchestra. Gently, you deposited the forkful of food into her mouth, and watched intently as she chewed politely, moving the dish from one side to the other and working hard to figure out what it was she was eating. Her brows furrowed cutely as she thought.

“Carbonara!” She said excitedly.

That was an easy one. “Correct!” You said.

“That was incredible, though, holy shit!” She was never one to mince her words when she liked something.

You ran to the freezer to grab one of the six coupes of raspberry sorbet, and explained to her what it was. “It’s to cleanse your palate between each meal so you don’t confuse the flavours.” You fed her the whole scoop of sorbet - it was only one, but it took a few cuts with the teaspoon to get it to disappear.

The second dish was osso buco; a savory and hearty Milanese specialty that features braised veal shanks simmered with white wine, broth, onions, carrots, celery, garlic, and tomatoes. It’s often garnished with gremolata, a zesty mixture of lemon zest, garlic, and parsley, which adds a burst of freshness to the rich, tender meat. This dish is known for its complex, comforting flavors and is often served with risotto or polenta. The veal shank, which has been expertly braised, yields easily to your fork and reveals its meltingly soft, succulent core, giving off an impression of unctuous tenderness.

To create a delicious harmony of flavours that dances on the palate, tomatoes add a luscious, fruity acidity. Combined with a rich, velvety sauce that coats the meat has earthy undertones from sautéed carrots and celery and a deep, mellow sweetness from caramelised onions.

Each bite is infused with a delicate, fragrant bouquet of rosemary, thyme, and garlic, which adds layers of complexity and a tinge of Mediterranean warmth. The dish is given a depth of savoury umami and a gentle, nuanced acidity by the white wine and broth, which have been simmered to perfection.

The gremolata garnish adds the finishing touch with a burst of vibrant freshness and zest. With each forkful, the combination of zesty lemon, pungent garlic, and vibrant parsley adds a fresh, energising contrast to the velvety rich sauce and tender veal.

Purposefully, you added risotto to the dish to throw her off, hoping she’d confuse it with another dish that was somewhat similar. Which she did. “Risotto alla Milanese?” She asked.

“Unfortunately, my love, that is incorrect. You think we have the money for saffron?”

“What is it?”

“Osso buco!”

She slapped her knee. “I would not have got that in a million years!”

“Really!”

“Yes! I only ever had risotto alla Milanese once when I went with Papa on a business trip up to Milan. He paid for it. It was expensive.”

You fed her a spoonful from a fresh coupe of raspberry sorbet. “That would be because it came from one of Papa’s fancy Milano restaurants that has the money for saffron.”

You noticed that a bit of the sorbet had pooled at the corner of her mouth without her noticing. You didn’t think, with your hands full you had no way to wipe it away, so you leaned forward and placed an open mouth kiss to the corner of her lips in an attempt to not make it obvious you were straight up licking her face.

At the crescendo of Un Bel di Vedremo from Act Two of Madama Butterfly, Aurora turned and locked her lips with yours, her hands moving up to your neck to pull you in for a surprise and passionate kiss. Her tongue darted into your mouth and you could taste the raspberry sorbet on her earning her a moan from your lips.

When you finally pulled away, she giggled. “What was that?” You asked.

“The music was getting intense, I just wanted to try it out and see something.”

You fed her another spoonful. “Okay, and…?”

“That felt incredible. My heart did a flutter and it felt like I was flying.”

You giggled a little at that, but understood what she meant. It was a very cinematic moment, for sure.

The final meal was lobster ravioli, a decadent pasta dish that combines plump, luscious lobster meat with delicate pasta pillows. It’s often served with a creamy tomato or seafood sauce and garnished with fresh herbs. The first bite reveals the lobster meat, which is tender, succulent, luxuriously rich, and delicately sweet, similar to the sea’s treasures. Every morsel tastes like the salty kiss of the sea.

The lobster filling is encased in soft, velvety pasta that offers a delicate counterpoint to the robustness of the seafood. It seems as though the pasta was created to cradle and highlight the lobster’s beauty.

The dish gets a layer of lusciousness from the creamy sauce, which frequently contains tomato or seafood broth. Every mouthful is infused with a velvety elegance that contrasts the lobster’s inherent sweetness. It is rich, decadent, and subtly tangy.

The dish is garnished with fresh herbs and a hint of lemon zest or parsley for a burst of freshness and vibrancy. These components improve the flavour as a whole, like a cool breeze on a summer evening by the sea.

The oceanic allure of lobster, the delicate pasta, the creamy sauce, and the vibrant accents of herbs and citrus work together to create a harmonious medley of flavours.

On your fork, you picked up one piece of ravioli and gently placed it in her mouth, waiting ardently for her answer. “This one’s tricky.” She announced between chewing. “Definitely seafood, but I can’t tell if it’s crab or shrimp.”

“Ah, interesting.”

“Which means it’s neither.”

“What? Where did that come from?”

“Your reaction. If I was right you would have told me. It’s ravioli… but what’s the meat? Lobster? Lobster ravioli?”

“Correct.”

You went to grab another coupe of raspberry sorbet.

“Really? You can afford lobster but you can’t afford saffron?”

“Saffron is ten dollars per gram!” You sat down and began feeding her the sorbet. “Lobster is only twenty euros per kilo if you go to the right vendor. You get more bang for your buck with a lobster. Besides, one of the cardinals requested lobster for one of his own private meals this lunchtime, and I thought it was a great idea.”

“So this is cardinal leftovers?”

You sighed which triggered laughter from her. “Yes, my love, I went back upstairs after the cardinal’s dinner and I scraped all the little lobster bits off the plate and turned it into ravioli. Watch out for the extra chunks of vegetables and whatever else went into that dish. This is a real Frankenstein’s monster of a pasta dish.”

“Did you feed me this because I fuck you good and Italy doesn’t have a Red Lobster?”

You wanted to be mad at her and chastise her for ruining the moment, but your head tilted back and laughed instead at her poor joke. “There is actually a Red Lobster in Roma as far as I know.”

“And you’ve never taken me there?” She acted offended. “Do I not fuck you good enough, is that it?” She placed one of her hands on your chest over your heart.

“You’re lucky I love you.”

She placed her hands around your neck and pulled you in for another kiss. “I love you too. What’s for dessert?”

As was the same with the meals, there were three options for dessert. The first, cannoli. The delicate, shatteringly crisp exterior of the crispy shell gives way to a slightly chewy, tender interior in a symphony of textures. It resembles a golden, edible treasure chest that is filled with sweet riches.

The filling is a masterpiece of creaminess and is typically made of a velvety ricotta cheese mixture. It has a luxurious dairy richness that envelops your taste buds in a comforting embrace. It is smooth, luscious, and slightly tangy.

There is a lot of sweetness, but it’s never overbearing; rather, it’s perfectly balanced. Due to the inclusion of ingredients like tiny chocolate chips, candied fruit, or chopped nuts, the ricotta filling is frequently punctuated by flavorful explosions on a small scale. Each bite is a harmonious fusion of textures and tastes thanks to the addition of these delightful contrasts.

The cannoli is covered in powdered sugar, which adds an ethereal sweetness to go with the creamy filling. It adds sweetness in a subtle way without overpowering the overall experience.

These components work together to produce a dessert that is both indulgent and delicate, providing a sensory experience that is both texturally fascinating and flavorfully exquisite.

Aurora took a bite and was so surprised at the crunchiness, she made a sweet little noise. Her hand came up to catch as many of the crumbs as she could but quite a few had found their way to the floor.

“Cannoli!” She said immediately, her mouth still full of cannoli. “How would I not know your favourite dessert?”

“Honestly, I put this in just in case you didn’t know the rest of the dishes.”

She hit you. “Give me another bite of that, baby.”

You fed her another mouthful of cannoli, gulping at the sight of her. Her lips wrapped around it obscenely, in a way you only saw when she was on her knees taking your strap. She lifted her head to better reach the dessert you’d unintentionally held just out of reach, exposing her soft, beautiful neck in the process. You chastised yourself for perving on her while she was eating, but it had been so long since you last saw her you were almost experiencing withdrawal. And the little noises of delicious approval she gave you were going into your ears and shooting straight down to your cunt. You couldn’t help it. When she’d finished her dessert, she took your fingers into her mouth to lick off the remaining ricotta. She had to have known what she was doing, surely?

“What’s next?”

You shook your head and closed your mouth, pulling yourself out of the horny trance you were just in.

The penultimate dish, tiramisu: a beloved Italian dessert known for its luscious layers of coffee-soaked ladyfingers and mascarpone cheese. It’s delicately flavored with cocoa powder and sometimes a touch of liquor like rum or coffee liqueur. The mascarpone cheese layer offers a velvety, luscious embrace that is both delicate and indulgent, and the first spoonful is a revelation of rich, creamy decadence.

As they yield to your fork with a soft, sponge-like tenderness and release an espresso-infused essence that is both bold and mellow, like a warm, comforting hug, the coffee-soaked ladyfingers offer a satisfying contrast.

The dessert’s surface is flecked with cocoa powder, which adds a bittersweet, earthy flavour that harmonises beautifully with the mascarpone’s sweet creaminess and the coffee’s warmth.

An understated alcoholic kick, frequently from rum or coffee liqueur, adds a level of complexity and gives the dessert a chic, boozy undertone that dances on your palate.

The bitterness of the coffee and cocoa provides a well-balanced counterpoint that keeps the overall taste experience from becoming overly sweet. It is a dessert that achieves perfect harmony, much like a well-balanced symphony.

The noise she made when she took that bite was downright lewd in your overstimulated brain. It was a deep, gutteral moan akin to the noise she makes when your lips wrap around her for the first time that night. Her tongue escaped to mop up the leftover mascarpone and cocoa powder and you felt your breathing get heavier. Your mouth was open, almost drooling at the sight of her enjoying the food you cooked, your mind filling with completely sinful thoughts to the point you could barely think of anything else. Your hairs stood on end, goosebumps decorated your skin, and your eyes were watery where you’d not blinked in who knew how long. “Tiramisu.” She whispered. “My favourite.”

“Fuck, Aurora.”

“Last one. Quickly.”

The final dish: Panna Cotta. Meaning “cooked cream” in Italian, it’s a smooth and silky dessert made by simmering cream, sugar, and gelatin. The result is a delicate custard-like dessert with a subtly sweet, creamy flavor. Panna cotta is often served with a fruit coulis or caramel sauce on top for added flavor and elegance.

Each spoonful glides across the tongue with a velvety, melt-in-your-mouth sensation that is incredibly smooth and opulent, giving off an initial impression of silkiness.

The flavour is delicately sweet, like a delicate caress of sweetness, letting the cream shine in all of its pure splendour. It has a tinge of vanilla that adds a warm, fragrant embrace that improves the overall experience.

The texture is ethereal, as though a cloud had transformed into a sweet. With each delicate bite, it dissolves easily because it is tender but firm enough to hold its shape.

Her lips were stained with the red of the fruit coulis when she took her final bite and that was when the last thread of sanity inside of you snapped and exploded without your permission or desire to. You stood from your seat, throwing the cutlery down on the table and spread her legs so you could stand between them. Your hands cupped her cheek and rested on her arm as you leaned down and licked the coulis away from her top lip, the strawberry flavour tingling your tongue and earning you a moan. The hand that rested on her arm moved upwards to untie the blindfold as your tongue gained entrance to her mouth in a heated kiss, the taste of the panna cotta now registering on your tastebuds and making your girlfriend even more delicious than usual.

Being the tiny thing she was and weighing next to nothing, you picked her up off the stool and placed her on the table without breaking the kiss, your hands beginning to roam around her clothed body. The frustration you felt when you realised she was still wearing her Ghoul uniform was severe. You needed her naked. You needed her easily accessible. You just needed her.

Her waistcoat was the first to get removed and thrown somewhere into the darkness, followed by her black shirt that you all but ripped open. She squealed into the kiss, but didn’t protest, her own hands coming to remove your clothes as best as she could with you being feral in front of her. You unclasped her bra, uncaring which one she was wearing or even what the colour was and launched that across the kitchen too. Your hands worked at her jeans, ripping them from her body in desperation to get at her core. She was left only in her panties.

Your lips moved from hers, down her jaw and to that sweet spot at the crook of her neck, and revelled in the gasp she released when she felt your tongue licking and sucking a hickey into her skin. “Oh my… God!”

You kissed down to her nipple and sucked it into your mouth, swirling your tongue over the soft bud and alternating between sucking, licking and biting. Every time you bit her, her hips bucked upwards, her cunt searching for stimulation. Your newly spit-soaked fingers dipped into her panties, black lace - her bra must have been too, and began stroking her clit as soon as you reached it. Another gasp was taken from her, followed by a pornographic, “Yes!” Fingers dug into your biceps as she fought to keep herself grounded.

You released her nipple from your mouth and moved up to her lips, not kissing her, but so close you could feel her breath on your face. You delighted at the look of anguish on her face as your furiously and roughly rubbed at her most sensitive bundle of nerves, her eyebrows furrowed upwards and nostrils flared as she tried her hardest to breathe through the desperation she felt. Wanton moans tumbled from her open mouth, becoming more and more strangled the faster your fingers moved.

“You didn’t tell me what the final dish was.” You told her in a low voice, almost a growl. You felt her cunt flutter at the sound.

“What?”

“What was the last thing you ate, princess?”

“Fuck! I don’t know.”

“You have to tell me otherwise you don’t get to cum.”

“Fucking hell! ___, please!”

“What did you eat last?”

“Flan!”

“No, baby, that’s Spanish.” You inserted two fingers inside her and she released a scream when you tapped up. “Try again.”

“Fuck! I don’t know. Blancmange?”

This time you laughed at her; taunting her as you relentlessly hit her g-spot over and over again. “You know blancmange but you don’t know what you just ate?”

“Your fingers weren’t inside me when you fed me!”

Your free hand reached back over and picked up the spoon and small glass of panna cotta, shoving them both into her empty hands. “Have another taste now that my fingers are inside you.”

“Fuck!”

You backed your head up a little bit to watch her dip the spoon in the glass. Her tongue came out to steady the spoon as her hand was shaking from the pleasure until finally the spoonful of the dessert had disappeared down her waiting throat. She let out another whine at the taste then placed the glass down next to her. “Panna cotta!”

“Good girl!”

There was still a small amount of liquified and melted sorbet left in one of the coupes on the table, and so your brain did perhaps the most obvious thing once it comprehended what your eyes had announced. Your free hand wrapped around the stem and poured it onto her clavicle, wasting no time in licking it back up off of her, sucking until another hickey formed.

“Shit! I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum!”

“Cum for me.”

You felt her tighten around your fingers and pulsate as her orgasm hit her, her mouth hung open in a silent scream and gasping for her lungs to start working again. As usual, you continued to provide stimulation until her orgasm had completely ended, and her brain had begun working again and she peppered your face in kisses. “That was incredible!” She said in between pecks. Her hands made their way to your trousers and fiddled with the button to free you as best as she could. “Your turn.”

You, in the desperate need to access your lover’s body, ended up mostly clothed. You were free of your own shirt and undergarments on the top half, but your bottom half had remained untouched the whole time. And so, as soon as your positions were switched and she was standing in front of you, she made light work of the offending garments that blocked her from her goal. As soon as you were completely bare to her, sat on the table and core fully out on display, she spread your legs, pulled up a chair and got herself situated. Rather aptly timed, the sweet tones of Duo des Fleurs began to play over the speakers which made both of you giggle. It seemed ridiculous to have sex with opera in the background as oftentimes the lyrics did not match the situation, but as soon as Aurora’s began her work, you understood it immediately.

She started by giving you faint, gentle pecks to your calves that were timed irregularly so you didn’t know when they would happen. Any exposed flesh she could touch was tenderly caressed by her fingertips, adding yet another layer of sensation to the already gentle touches. Then her lips advanced towards your pubic mound. Before she kissed you, you could feel her breath flowing between your folds, making you shiver in anticipation of her touch. Sweet and soft touches working in tandem with the music echoing throughout the room had you seeing stars without the pleasure even beginning.

You unintentionally screamed out at the first broad, rough lick. However, this was quickly followed by her lips encircling your clit and sucking with as much force as they could, giving you an intense pleasure that bordered on pain. The tip of her tongue continued to work your clit in a variety of directions with her mouth still closed, her movements seeming erratic. Her head moved in all directions as she sucked on your sensitive bud to keep your pleasure as vivacious as possible, your hand still tangled in her beautiful, long hair as she gave you the most delicious pleasure. She continued in this manner for what felt like an eternity. She remained face-first in your core, unyielding and unwilling to stop until you reached your peak, even when your hips bucked and you began using her face for your own pleasure.

All of this was heightened by your surroundings, the location - the fact that anyone could walk in and see you laid bare for your lover in the place you worked. The music that made your head spin in a heavenly manner. Aurora’s tongue and mouth working to make you feel as good as she possibly could, with her fingertips digging into your flesh and rubbing soothing circles. The smell of the desserts, especially with your eyes closed, filled and clouded your senses. You’d seen the pleasure on Aurora’s face when your fingers were deep inside her as she took another bite of panna cotta, and the curiosity got the better of you. You leaned back on the table slightly and reached over to the plate of cannoli, fingers wrapping around the hard shell and bringing it to your lips.

The crunch got Aurora’s attention, but she only smirked as you enjoyed the treat with her lips still attached to you. And the sensation was nothing like you’d experienced before.

Your mouth tingled at the tang of the ricotta, your tastebuds falling under the similar control from the food that Aurora had at your centre. It offered a sensory delight that was both texturally intriguing and flavorfully exquisite; delicate and indulgent. Undoubtedly among the most delicious creations to ever grace the palate, it was a tantalising explosion of flavours. A beautiful composition of crispy, creamy, and sweet components. The combination of the dessert and Aurora treating you like one, had you floating in ecstasy and was quite possibly the most heavenly experience ever created.

Your pleasured moans occasionally harmonised with the music; your eyes rolled back. “Please don’t stop!” You practically whispered as you got ever closer to that edge, her mouth working harder and faster as ever. She knew you’d lose that feeling if she stopped what she was doing, so she didn’t. Instead, she accelerated her movements and increased her fervour and, when you’d swallowed that last bite of cannoli, you allowed yourself to fall, crashing back down to Earth from the heavens as you reached orgasm, your fist tightening in her hair and your eyes squeezed tightly shut, climaxing all over her face. Your mouth opened wide as your back arched and a stream of profanities spilled out. Aurora didn’t stop until you pushed her away.

With her swollen pink lips stained with your cunt, she was unquestionably a sight to behold as she emerged from your wetness. She sat up to get closer to your lips with a knowing smile on her face and a giggle in her throat. You pulled her in for a passionate kiss, overwhelmed by the incredible orgasm you’d just had, her thumbs continue to caress your thighs. “That was amazing, wasn’t it?” She asked, a bright smile on her face.

“We need to do that more often, holy shit!” You agreed.

“You know, I thought those cannolis were exceptional. Didn’t realise they’d be orgasmic though.”

You kissed her again. “You fucking idiot.”

“I love you.”

“I love you.” You sighed. “The food’s gone cold.”

“We have a microwave.”

“Ugh, heathen! I’m starving.”

“What, that cannoli wasn’t filling enough?”

“I’m actually going to break up with you.”

She kissed you. “Come on, let’s get dressed and get some food.”

Previous Day ⛧ Next Day

[valentine-cafe]

Just read about the diurnal reaper detective and he seems great! Poor bean i wanna protect him especially at the part with the gunshots. Also, i love that he uses string and thread instead of a scythe, it's very creative!

Can i ask-if you're taking requests for him at this point- him teaching how to throw knives( or darts)?

Stay safe and take care!!

-🌹♥️

. ˚◞♡ 𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒑𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒆 ꒰ 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒊𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒑𝒆𝒓 𝒅𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒆 ꒱◞ ₊˚

⊹ ۪ ࣪ ᥫ᭡ 9948e seong-jin / reader ꒱ you turn to your boyfriend with a cute date idea in mind, but you sometimes forget that he sometimes needs a little nudge

𖹭. content warnings◞  none! . 0.5k

𖹭. receipts◞  first request for seong-jin! we're glad that you like him <3 yeah he's a poor baby who acts like an old man tbh bhsdcb and yes! all diurnal reapers reap souls with strings rather than a scythe! anw, we hope that you enjoy hehe

. ˚◞ ꒰ 🍰 𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒌𝒔 ꒱ m.list . guidelines . characters . lorebook ⊹ ۪ ࣪ 

“you can’t give up already.”

“but it’s hard!”

“most things are.”

you can all but huff at your white-haired boyfriend. earning only a raise of his brow as he folds his arms across his chest.

“wasn’t this your idea?”

“I thought it could be a romantic date,”

the sheepish murmur from you elicits silence rather than a quick comeback from seong-jin. a blanket of quiet that soon made you uncomfortable. so you raise your head to correct yourself; if only to halt your parted lips.

warm, delicate fingers graze over your face before his large hand cups it tenderly. warm like his amber eyes that meet yours. pooling with hundreds of silent apologies.

“let’s try again, then.”

the gentle urge in his tone leaves your heart fluttering. not out of anxiety to impress him or a need to be perfect, and so you accept. allowing him to take your hand in his and lace your fingers. a kiss placed upon your knuckles while his gaze remains upon yours. another mute apology.

“the first thing about aim,” seong-jin starts, drawing you close. “is focus.”

focus, just like his eyes are on yours.

until he uses his grip to turn you so that you are facing the previously abandoned target. the hand on yours temporarily leaving if not to swiftly return with one of his signature darts. placing it in your palm and wrapping your fingers around it. as though it were a delicate, sweet-smelling flower.

“focus on your target.”

you face the objective. trying to ignore his hold that now idly laid on your waist, their usual resting place. trying to brush off his voice right beside your ear.

“then aim.”

he positions your hand once more. ensuring that your fingers wrap around the dart correctly. something he had not done previously, yet took the time to now.

“draw back.”

that gentle tone laced with his deep voice — rather then the firmness that brought anxiety - “and then. . .” — the mere difference hitches the air in your throat.

“breathe, sweetheart.”

the dart is flung at the target. landing on one of the inner rings, close to the bright circle in the middle. bright like the way your cheeks burn.

“seong-jin!” your squeak prompts a hum of questioning as you spin around to look at him with a playful glare. you waste no time in pressing a finger to his chest.

“what is it?” he murmurs, craning his head down and tilting it to the side in the slightest. seemingly oblivious to whatever it is you were reprimanding him for. the bastard.

“you - y-you know what you were doing -”

all you receive is a chuckle at your fluster. followed by an arch of his brow before his hands come down to their rightful place on your waist. “well, when you’re done whining,” he murmurs after leaning down just a bit more.

before you know it, you’re spun around to face your success. “seems like you’ve got a few hidden talents.” the sight of just how close you were centre left your brows raising in surprise. if only for you to melt back into your boyfriend when his arms move to wrap around your waist instead.

“well. guess I have a good teacher.”

“well, when you listen to me that is.”

“heeeey.”

𖹭. taglist◞ wanna join the taglist? fill out this form

𖹭. remember◞ you make a writer's day every time you like, reblog and/or comment on their piece. if you enjoyed my work, please considering doing so<3

. ˚◞ ꒰ 🍰 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒖𝒑𝒑𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒖𝒔 ꒱ tip jar . masterist ⊹ ۪ ࣪

[miracles-and-butterflies]

On this episode of me randomly posting an unfinished wip from my drafts: we have what was going to be a Madrigals swapping bodies fic.

This one dates back to April 2023, almost a year old.

What the hell? This wasn’t her room.

Instead, she was in Mirabel’s cosy, ordinary, little room. Maybe scratch off cosy - this room is fucking freezing. Seriously, Luisa doesn’t think she’s ever been this cold before. And it’s a bigger room than she remembers. How did she even get in here? When did she get in here? Is Dolores right about her sleepwalking? And where’s Mirabel?

Luisa ignored her questions just now because Antonio, who was still wailing intensely outside, was her top priority at the moment. She could figure out what happened to herself later. And it was most likely that Mirabel, being the early bird she was, was already awake and far into her morning routine by now.

As she darted for the door, she felt completely off - like her centre of balance wasn’t where it normally was. Her vision also seemed to give up on her as she tried to spot Antonio once she was out the room.

What the fuck kind of drunk shenanigans did Isabela drag her into last night? At least she doesn’t have a hangover.

She strained, eventually catching a little, dark blurry figure, and running that towards it. Relieved that when she got closer, her eyes fixed themselves and that Antonio did appear.

Thinking a moment, she slowed her pace, not wanting to scare the boy any further by just suddenly ambushing him.

“Hey, primito, are you okay? Did you have another nightmare? Whatever it is, you’re safe now.” Luisa hoped her voice sounded gentle, she couldn’t really hear herself over the blood pumping loudly in her ears.

Antonio looked up at her. Whatever she had sounded like, she had only upset him more. He pointed at her, screaming, cowering back into the corner between his door and his parents’.

Luisa, although freaked out, continued, “Antonio, it’s just me! It’s Luisa, your cousin. I’m not going to hurt you. ”

The more she spoke, the more she realised her voice didn’t sound right. It had a slightly higher register than it usually did, and was overall more feminine and controlled. Her familiar raspiness was seemingly replaced by something more mature.

She also realised as she approached, that she was undeniably shorter, because Antonio looked to be about three thirds of her. Which is particularly strange because if she remembers correctly, she had been the tallest Madrigal for many years now and there’s no way a child is going to suddenly grow so much in one night. Isn’t she a bit young to be shrinking with age though? She’s only twenty!

“What the hell?” Luisa asked out loud.

She looked down at herself and saw her hands which were decidedly darker and smoother than her natural complexion. There weren’t any calluses from heavy lifting or nervously chewed up nails. Instead, well-kept and delicate. In fact, her whole body was dainty and more doll-like than the one she knew just yesterday, covered in a frilly nightdress that she definitely did not own. She reached up to her hair, only to feel the soft, shoulder length curls that resided there.

Luisa let out a scream of her own, before shouting another, louder, “What the hell?!”

She kept repeating that phrase while wandering over to the pictures on the nearby wall. Trying to use the glass as a mirror, she leaned close to it, eventually seeing a reflection that wasn’t her own. Finally coming to the conclusion that not only was she not in her own body, but she was in someone else’s body. Mirabel’s. Which explained why Luisa hadn’t seen her when she woke up in the nursery. Because she was…

Antonio whimpered somewhere behind her.

He was now sat on the floor. He had stopped crying, but was still staring at Luisa with eyes the size of dinner plates.

Part of her still wanted to comfort him, but considering how he reacted to her presence, didn’t think it would work. If it was a nightmare was about Casita’s collapse and having the person comfort him be… Mirabel right after, probably hadn’t helped.

The moment was interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat directly behind Luisa.

Suddenly frozen, every muscle, that felt too small and weak to be normal or familiar, locked into place. She stepped back and turned a full 180 degrees, looking up (that felt weird to do again) at her mother.

“Mirabel? Are you okay? You look very pale, mi amor.”

Kinda the opposite, actually.

Luisa tried not to react to the nervous shivers running through her body. Does that happen every time Mirabel’s nervous? Is that why she’s always cold? Wait, no, that’s the anaemia. Maybe it’s both?

“I’m,” she paused, trying to think about what Mirabel would say. ‘Fine’ would make Julieta worry and that wasn’t fair, but saying ‘okay’ wouldn’t be Mirabel. It had to be something smart, that normal people wouldn’t say. “Quite adequate, dearest mother.”

…She should’ve just said ‘fine’.

[occulticvioletdepths]

[@gwendoline-of-lumiose ]

Camille! Hello! Where are you?

[A very loud an awkward Gwen is standing and shouting right outside of the Undella pokemon centre. Ele, her noctowl, is right beside her, and would be face palming if she had palms.]

//OOC: The following is an off-Rotomblr interaction.

Camille was seated nearby the Undella Seaport, eyes peeled to the cave that marks the entrance to Reversal Mountain, and the path to Lentimas. She'd expected to see either Gwendoline, Rosie, or the both of them to find their way out of the cave sooner or later, but, as it seems, from a shout that just barely registered in her ear...

She just missed them. Or they could've taken a route she didn't know about. Likely the latter...

Quickly, she got up from her seat and pivoted towards the direction of the Pokécenter, running. It wasn't too far, luckily.

"Right here!" she shouts as she approaches, trailed by her Mismagius, Melisma, stopping just a couple steps before Gwendoline - her eyes taking a few seconds to look.

...They really do look alike, huh. Camille let out a silent little giggle.

"It's... quite the pleasure to finally see you in person, Gwen. I hope your trip wasn't too much of a difficult one?"

She would've said "rocky", but she's not sure if that pun would register correctly.

[vitrious-simulacrum]

Marathon: Eternal

By: Xeventh Project

Release Date: 2004 (Mark I), 8th February 2023 (1.3 Preview 5)

Based On: Aleph One

**SATUS TRADENDAE**

Marathon: Eternal is... well, one of The Big Ones. When you look for Marathon scenarios, this is likely one of the ones you'll find alongside Rubicon X, Apotheosis X and Phoenix. And with good reason, too, seeing as it is, for all intent and purpose, a full-fledged sequel to Marathon Infinity: an odyssey through time and space, although in Eternal's case, it is to stop an AI to wipe out humanity for its perceived misdeeds by the AI. But that is selling things quite short, so, let's beginning at the start, shall we?

find yourself

starting back

To start, we are given a name to our dear Security Officer: Marcus Jones, the newly arrived Mjolnir Battleroid to K'lia, the moon that the S'pht took as the system of Lh'owon was destroyed in a nova. Now, five centuries have passed—the Pfhor defeated but ready for revenge, the S'pht annihilated after they were forced to put down the maddened Sh'bhuth and his 'Kr, and humanity, using the left technology on their new moon, with only one hope left to save themselves: Marcus... and Hathor.

Who is Hathor?

Hathor, like Marcus, was a Battleroid—in fact, she was one of the 9 that were left on the Tau Ceti colony. After its destruction by the Pfhor, Hathor was left there as scrap, and only after K'lia folded orbiting Earth that the UESC discovered that all Battleroids contained Cybernetic Junctions: a piece of Jjaro technology that was installed on all Battleroids that allows one to travel through time and space. After recovering Hathor as the only still workable Battleroid, she was placed and installed as K'lia's new AI construct into its systems, without a body (this will be very much important later) due to it being damaged beyond repair.

Now, with Marcus and Hathor, the UESC plans to send both of them to the past and, in some way, attempt to give humanity a better future, right on the day where it all happened: the Pfhor invasion onto Tau Ceti and the Marathon on 2794. As they arrive, however, it soon becomes clear that much more is afoot, not just with Hathor—but across time and space...

To start, Eternal is a gorgeous scenario, not just in its new and wide selection of textures, but also in its weapons, enemies and skies—with returning enemies like Enforcers with M1's Alien Gun, the explosive Lookers and hulking Drinniols. Its weaponry is also a major shake-up, with both fusion-based pistols and rifle as your starting weapon, the Pfhor Fighter's staff, the Soldier's rifle/grenade launcher and your more standard weapons; the Napalm Cannon and the Alien Gun, whose secondary shooting mode has become Eternal's shotgun. (RIP WSTE-M5).

Levels are also quite an eyesight: from your standard Earth and Pfhor ships, to far away alien planets, stations, waste centres and natural caverns, each one is given the same love and care in details, texture use, ambient sounds and lightning. Stands out for me are Babylon X, Waiting For Black Metal Records To Come In The Mail, We Met Once In A Garden, and all the failure levels... oh, right. Best to talk about that little feature. Each chapter of Eternal features two paths: one will lead you to the rest of the chapter, while the other will show you what happens if things are not done correctly. In Chapter 1, if you follow Hathor with her plan, you are cut off from her by Durandal, led by him through the Marathon, picking his primal pattern and eventually being used as his vessel to escape the end of the universe.

Once each failure branch is done, you are taken to a human station orbiting around Sol, given a snapshot of your mistake. In Chapter 1's case, it is Durandal leaving before he frees the S'pht, leaving humanity with very little chance to fight. A terminal nearby indicates that the Pfhor have deployed the trih xeem before leaving the system, and even before that, each battle took a major cost on humanity, with thousands being taken as slaves. These failure levels also feature the appearance of Infinity's Durandal-Thoth, aged and wise, giving Marcus a second chance to return and set things right.

Quite honestly, I feel like I could talk about the plot of Eternal for hours and hours—with how many themes it deals with, how characters like Hathor or even Marcus are developed, and the unique new concepts that are introduced for Eternal's story, like the Junctions, a closer look into how time travel can be entirely misused and lead to entire cluster-fucks piling up, and finally, love.

At the end of the day, I really feel this is one mod everyone should go in without knowing much beyond that it follows on from Infinity's ending. It should come with the caveat that the very first level is likely to take the most time for a player to read; this was done due to players ignoring the README.txt that came with the mod in older versions, so Xeventh Project added the first level's terminals to catch up on people.

That's likely one negative that some people may have: Eternal is a game heavy with text and reading, and while it seems odd to say this is in a series that's all about reading terminals and piecing together the plot, I could understand if for some, so much reading could get tiring. However, if possible, I recommend you push through the first few levels, and hopefully you'll be as hooked as I was when I played it!

And one last message, which is very important for any Marathon fan:

There's currently a new fork of Aleph One, Aleph Bet, being worked on by a handful of developers outside of the Aleph One Team, including a previous AO dev and one of the co-directors, writers and level designers for Eternal, Aaron. This link should lead you directly to the Github for fork; I recommend people to keep an eye on it, and support the project in whatever way you can, from help with coding to simply spreading the word.

See

you

star

side

\\NÚNTIUS TERMINAT//

**NEGAVIT ADHUC NOTITIA**

[finniestoncrane]

Hello there! I’d like to place an order for delivery?

Perfect! I’d like a signature cocktail and the surf and turf (btaa please) please. For the sides could I get the sliders, corn on the cob, and the green salad please?

Thank you so much!!

(I hope I formatted this correctly. I love your writing! Big congratulations!!)

btaa!two face x btaa!harvey, word count: 400 content (warnings): straddling, bed sharing, biting, marking kink, masturbation the kitchen is now closed! 🔞minors dni🔞 • masterlist • kofi link • tag: finnie1500 (to follow or to block) a/n: thank you anon! ok SO! i went DIFFERENT with this one, and i would love to expand on it at some point ;-;💚

there's a constant competition between harvey and two face

one that extends into every area of their life, even the most intimate points

especially, at the most intimate points, because nothing is sacred

both of them are intent on spiting the other's pleasure, unable to see the other as happy and content

and more often than not, they utilise it as a method of getting revenge on the other

harvey does it when two face has spent the entire day pushing him to edge, cajoling him into criminal activities, and calling him college boy

two face does it when he's sick of good old harvey dent trying to avoid his own fate, and the fate of others as decided by the coin

so in the dim light of their bedroom, or wherever they might be

when either the right or left hand reaches for his cock, stiff, perfectly and equally split in colour and texture down the centre

the other waits until the perfect moment

two face's preferred method is waiting until harvey thinks he's finally getting a moment of peace

before interrupting with his gruff voice

"do you need a hand, college boy? i'm better at it anyway"

a barrage of insults, cruel criticisms on his technique

"you're too slow, too gentle. get real rough with it, harv, don't be afraid!"

reminding harvey, repeatedly and loudly, that the women they encounter prefer two face, they like his style, they like a bit of a monster

in retaliation, harvey is often likely to remain calm, irritatingly so, when getting his revenge on two face

he'll speak loudly, and firmly, the entire time he's masturbating

and will insist that he is in control

and more to the point, is influencing the motions by delivering instructions that are difficult to ignore while you're in the moment

and as much as two face tries to ignore him, he will slip into a submissive mode the more he gets distracted by his mounting climax

"see, you can listen, and you can behave. perhaps as a reward i'll let you cum this time"

"what a very well-behaved boy, following the instructions to the letter!"

"that's it, grip it firm, but not too tight. and why don't you see how it might feel if you run your thumb over the head when you reach the top? ah! see... that's good, isn't it?"

and usually, harvey is very right

even if it pains two face to admit that

[pertinax--loculos]

And now, because I'm feeling miserable chaotic as fuck, after just posting some banners for Vibes WIP earlier this arvo, I'm going to post a rewritten version of the first scene of Absent That Night.

Note that this is just a first pass, so even those it's technically ~draft two~ there still may be typos, etc etc.

But regardless! I hope you enjoy. ^_^ Any feedback is welcome -- particularly things like would you like to read on, does this make sense, do you have any questions that aren't plot related? (I'm super close to and familiar with this WIP, so I sometimes forget what the reader would and wouldn't know, and I'm not sure if foreshadowing etc would come across correctly.)

Anyway, it's approximately 2.5k words, so really if you read it at all I love you for it. <3

Latrell stared at the blank space on the wall, incensed. It used to host a painting. Much like the sections of wall to his left and right, in fact. Though those paintings were still there. Of course. Voices drifted down the long featureless corridor from his right. “I just don’t understand.” Shrill, piercing, unbelievably loud. A woman accustomed to getting her own way. “We pay all this money, and that is supposed to protect us from situations like these, and now you’re telling me that it doesn’t?” Latrell narrowed his eyes until the wall in front of him almost disappeared. “I understand your frustration, ma’am.” Albie’s voice was low, soothing, a stark contrast. Ever the professional. “And you are correct, your contract with LEAH does guarantee swift retrieval of all listed items. However, the item in question was not on the list. Surely you understand how that might change the situation.” Latrell smiled to himself and moved down the corridor, away from the woman’s increasingly hysterical objections.

Habitually, he dipped mental fingers into the Orn, the waterlike texture of his flow shimmering in his mind’s eye. A few signatures jumped out at him, the paintings lining the corridor. Not the one that was missing. He’d never touched that one before, never even seen it, hadn’t had a chance to familiarise himself. Absolutely no chance of tracking its location.

He blinked, moving away from the Orn and back into the physical world.

The corridor was lined on both sides, no rhyme or reason to the order of the artwork, no overarching theme. The only thing the pieces had in common was their price. The corridor was an exhibition of wealth, not of passion.

At this end it opened up into a large, airy living space, made to seem even larger by the wall of windows directly opposite. They looked out over the centre of the city, all steel and glass and whitewashed concrete. Far off in the distance, the dark line of the waterfront, the ocean stretching to the horizon.

“Nice view,” Albie said from his elbow.

Latrell glanced at her. “You manage to calm Mrs. Bishop down?”

“Calm might be too strong a word.” Albie rolled her eyes. “I think I’ve talked her down from a lawsuit. And she’s going to let us actually do our jobs, so that’s something.”

“It sure is.”

“Oh, c’mon, you know you love me.”

She patted his shoulder, the bad one, and Latrell had to hide his flinch. Albie probably wouldn’t have noticed anyway; she stepped further into the living area, spinning in a slow circle as she took it in. “Got anything yet?”

“Besides the obvious? No.” Latrell rubbed at an eye under his glasses, a headache beginning to tug at his temples. “Honestly I don’t even think there’s any point searching.”

“Naw, don’t be like that. It’s not our job. Besides, he’s gotta make a mistake eventually. Today might be our lucky day.”

Latrell seriously doubted it, but he moved next to her to examine the table.

It was an ostentatious piece of furniture if he’d ever seen one. Swirling patterns from the original tree paired with spaces of black and clear resin, sitting on legs that seemed to Latrell at best impractical and at worst dangerous for the tens of thousands of dollars he was sure the tabletop cost.

Not that it would be worth that now.

Etched directly into the resin — deep enough that it hit the centuries-old wood in some places, small shavings dusting the surface around the gouges — was a series of lines, swirling around each other. An artwork in itself, really, evocative of water, or perhaps a representation of wind. Latrell couldn’t look at it without thinking of his flow. And in the centre, a single word.

Nox

Latrell brushed his gloved fingers over the edge of the carvings. They were deep yet smooth, nothing rushed or crude about them. Each line a separate groove. Not made with anything as pedestrian as a knife. Perhaps a hammer and chisel. A specialised instrument, at the very least.

“He’s getting bolder.” Albie stalked around the table as if to view the signature from every angle. “This is bigger than anything else we’ve seen.”

“More space to work with, maybe. Not often the most expensive item in a room is a table.” Latrell traced the sharp angles of the ‘N’. “Did the Bishops tell you where they were last night?”

“Dinner at the Station House, then apparently they went to a friend’s house to kick on. No plan to stay the night, but that’s what ended up happened. Got home about three hours ago, took them an hour to discover the theft.”

Surprising it was that fast. The apartment was big enough they could’ve spent days inside without visiting every room.

“Do they often stay out all night after a dinner?”

Albie was at the head of the table, arms crossed. “Took a bit of finagling, but I reckon so, yeah. Mrs. Bishop wouldn’t admit it but the way she talked gives me the impression it’s not an uncommon occurrence.”

“So no way to be certain they wouldn’t return, but the odds were pretty good.” Latrell massaged his temple with two fingers. “Still, he wouldn’t leave anything to chance. Would’ve gotten in early. Security cameras?”

The hopeful uptick in his voice made Albie smile. “Nothing.”

“I fucking hate this guy.”

“Oh, I know.” Albie’s voice was teasing, but there was a note of censure behind it. Latrell kept his eyes on the table so she wouldn’t see his wince.

Fucking Nox. The man had been a thorn in Latrell’s side for nearly three years, and that thorn was quickly turning into an entire branch.

LEAH’s Artefact Recovery Division served the clients who could afford to have their most valuable pieces insured with something more than money. Every Agent assigned to the unit had an affinity for object tracking; a location on the Orn that allowed them to see, touch, familiarise themselves with a certain item, and then use the Orn to find it. Latrell had been assigned to the ARD eight years ago, a consolation prize after an on-the-job injury had caused the police to fire him. He’d met Albie about twelve months later, and they’d been partnered six months after that.

Most of the time an ARD Agent’s job was fairly simple. If a thief managed to bypass the comprehensive security systems a LEAH client could afford, they tended to know which piece would get them the most on the black market. Unfortunately for them, so did the Agents, so the pieces were already listed and a part of an Agent’s repertoire. A brief look at what item was missing and the relevant Agent briefly checking out the Orn would usually locate the piece.

Usually. Nox was a different story.

He had an uncanny ability to target only those items that Agents hadn’t yet had a chance to itemise. Generally new acquisitions, often those on the books to be added to a client’s list within the next few days. It was specific enough that there’d been talk of Nox having some inside source.

Latrell wasn’t sure that was true. But it was getting to the point that he’d have to agree or figure out a more compelling theory soon.

Because the last six pieces that Nox had stolen — the last six households where he’d taken something and then destroyed something else, picking a room and defacing the most expensive item to leave his signature and no doubt of who it was that had committed the theft — had all been on Latrell’s register.

Once was an anomaly. Twice was coincidence. Three times was a pattern. Six times got people asking questions.

The sharp trill of Latrell’s phone cut through his musing. He answered it without looking at the screen. “Latrell.”

“Good morning, Agent,” a voice purred in his ear. Male. Smooth. Smug. “Enjoying yourself, I trust?”

“Who is this?” Latrell snapped. Albie raised an eyebrow, and he held up a hand. The voice was utterly unfamiliar, which raised a host of problems, chief among which was— “How did you get this number?”

“I have resources.” The man managed to convey the wave of his hand with the tone of his voice. “I should think you would know this by now.”

“Look, whoever you think I am, you’re mistaken. You’ve clearly got the wrong number, and I’m busy right now, so—”

“Forgive me. I thought you’d pardon the intrusion, given that it’s my handiwork you’re currently admiring.”

“What?” Latrell spun. Pointless. There was no one else in the room. “Fuck off. You think I’m going to fall for that?”

A chuckle in his ear, silky and deep. Whoever it was, they had a hell of a voice for radio. “Is it really that improbable that I would contact you, Agent Latrell?”

Latrell stopped.

Forced his mind back into its box. There was any number of reason the caller would know his name. No need to get ahead of himself. No reason to let his thoughts careen out of control down paths that made no sense—

“Have you seen the Michelson, by the way? It truly is a stunning piece. They say his use of colour is unrivalled.”

Latrell’s heart tripped. Stumbled. Caught its balance at a speed that felt unhealthy. They hadn’t known which piece had been stolen until they arrived. That information hadn’t been publicised. It hadn’t even been passed along to LEAH yet.

“Latrell,” Albie said quietly.

He waved in her direction again. Turned away. “Okay, so you’ve managed to find out some information. Congrats. Doesn’t mean I’m gonna believe—”

“Agent,” the man cut in again, “If you examine the table from the end closest to the couch, I believe that will be proof enough.”

The reference to the table, the knowledge of the signature, was proof enough. Nothing that had ever been released to the press. And it was unusual, moreso than any other scene. Not a coffee machine. Not a couch. Not, perhaps most memorably, an entire sound system. Never the artworks themselves, but always an item of incredible value — generally more than Latrell’s annual paycheck — marked, dismantled, defaced. Ruined.

Latrell stepped around the table. Stared down at it for a few long seconds. Saw only swirls and whisps and curving, branching lines.

He squinted a little, tilted his head, and it jumped out at him like an optical illusion snapping into focus. Seamlessly integrated into the pattern, a series of letters, distinct and separate from the larger, blocky moniker.

Hello, Latrell

“The hell…” The words were faint.

The man on the phone chuckled again. “You’re welcome. I am quite sure your boss will be very curious as to the meaning of that.”

“What the—”

“Apologies, Agent, but I really must be going. Places to go, paintings to fence. You know how it is. Though if I may offer some advice?”

He paused. Not long enough for Latrell to formulate a response.

“You really should make an effort to leave work earlier. Eight pm every night this week? It’s a recipe for burnout.”

Latrell dropped the phone from his ear, staring at the screen. The unknown number stared back at him, stark black numbers on a too-white screen.

Implausible. Impractical. Impossible. Beyond that, beyond the logistics and the motivation and the feasibilityof it all, it was just fucking insane. If he was right, if the man on the phone was who he thought it was, then he’d done all that, found Latrell’s number, tracked his movements, knew that he’d be at this crime scene, knew enough about his life to know when he was leaving work every night, all with the ultimate goal of calling him to— what? Gloat? Provide a clue? Hear the sound of his own fucking voice?

Each possibly theory was more insane than the last. Latrell swept off his glasses and pinched at his eyes with a thumb and forefinger.

“Brishan!” Albie all but shoved him, and Latrell realised it wasn’t the first time she’d tried to get his attention.

“Sorry,” he said, too distracted to bother with sincerity, mind racing, whirling, unmoored. He shoved his glasses back on, tried to school his expression back into neutrality. “I was just—”

“Who was that?” she demanded.

“I don’t know. It was nothing. Nobody. A prank call.” Yeah, right.

“Who’d they say it was?”

“They didn’t, actually.” He realised the truth of the statement even as it left his mouth. Not that it mattered. The content of the conversation left very little doubt just who he’d been speaking to. As much as his brain was trying to find ways to deny it. “Never actually identified themselves. They just implied— but it wasn’t really— I mean, I’m not sure—”

He exhaled, rubbed at his eye again. Spoke without lowering his hand. “I actually— I think it was Nox.”

Beat. Then: “What?”

Latrell kept rubbing at his eye. Didn’t really think that question deserved an answer.

Albie took a few moments to realise that was his conclusion, then added, “Are you sure?”

“Fuck, no, I’m not sure!” Latrell dropped his hand in time to catch the hurt look flicker over Albie’s face, shoulders tense, spine straight. He sucked in a deep breath, tried to modulate his tone. “No, I’m not sure. But… well, he was certainly pretty convincing.”

Albie chewed her lower lip for a moment. “We’re gonna have to report this.”

Irritation flickered hot and fluid in Latrell’s chest. He loosened his jaw, endeavoured to keep his voice entirely level when he said, “Of course I’m going to report it.”

It still came out sharp. Too sharp, if the slight lift to Albie’s eyebrows was anything to go by.

Latrell closed his eyes for a beat. Shoved down the slow boil of annoyance licking at his insides, forced himself to inhale, exhale. Slowly. Repeated, “I’m going to report it.”

Some of her scepticism faded, though an element of obstinance remained in the jut of her chin, the wrinkle between her brows. “Good.”

Latrell’s jaw locked. He turned away from her, back towards the table. Let his eyes skip over those two horrifying words, embedded in the centre of a criminal’s signature. Abruptly wished he’d chosen something else to look at.

“It’s… weird, right?” Albie’s voice had softened. “After the last few months…”

“Yeah it fucking is.” He sucked in a deep breath, gestured towards the table. “And this doesn’t help.”

Albie stepped up next to him. He didn’t really want to show her this. Didn’t really have a choice. It wasn’t exactly something he could hide, couldn’t change the signature so those two words were no longer a part of it.

But it was okay. Most people so far believed what he thought, that he was just a random target. Believed that he had no idea why Nox was fixated on him. Believed that he was just as in the dark as the rest of them.

But things kept piling up. Coincidence upon coincidence. As a cop Latrell had been trained to believe coincidences didn’t exist. But coming up with any other theory now seemed even harder.

He knew the instant Albie saw it. Felt her tension lurch like a physical presence in the room.

“Oh,” she said, quiet, loaded.

“I know.”

Albie turned to him, her face as earnest as her voice. “You’re fucked.”

Latrell removed his glasses to pinch his eyes again. “I know.”