#e writing pad

[piyushflip]

Laptop with writing pad

Erase Button :  Digital writing Tablet displays your notes until you erase them with the Push of a button. button erases notes instantly (Please make-Sure Screen mode Unlocked From Back Side of the Product)

Pressure-sensitive : screen lets you create thick and thin lines. Durable case and recessed screen are safe for school, travel and home use.

Reusable, Paperless, Environmental-Friendly :  digital writing Tablet displays your notes until you erase them with the touch of a button, One-touch button erases notes instantly.

[lovesickeros]

now that natlan is out it's tsaritsa yearning hours again because i am one nation closer to either being horribly disappointed or foaming at the mouth!

creator!reader w a little side of conflicted tsaritsa is such good food I can't not yap about it. a woman who has dedicated so much of her life to severing herself from "love" of all kinds and succeeding and. just being so confident that when she meets you she's bitter and angry and mean. because she can't stand you. she isn't supposed to love yet you worm your way into her heart anyway and you don't even know it.

especially in smth like an imposter au. she tells herself your just a tool for her to use but your treated like the Divine you really are, pampered and spoiled every step. tells herself it means nothing when she indulges you – let's you hold her hand in private, eventually let's you move aside the veil, just a little.

and she hates it. hates how easy it is to let you break down the ice she's built up for years.

all you do is smile and she feels like she can't breathe. because despite how violently she rejects love in all aspects, it always bleeds through eventually. she despises it but the way you brush your thumbs over her cheeks makes her bitter and warm and it infuriates her to no end.

she hates you and she loves you and she can't stand you and if you were ever taken from her she'd destroy every inch of teyvat if she had to go get you back.

and ironically enough I think she'd also be the one to initiate any first kiss. maybe she's still trying to convince herself it's just a fluke and itll make her realize it meant nothing, it means nothing. desperate to fix whatever you've done to her and instead it just makes it worse.

a horrible mess of a woman who gave up on love just to be confronted with it when she finally accepted it's absence.

[volivolition]

truly if anymr f t lttrs f my kybar brak tis inclus svral numbrs an n f t parntsis btw) im fr ral gnna run ut f kybins t rplac tm wit </

[truly if anymore of the letters of my keyboard break (this includes several numbers and one of the parenthesis btw) im for real gonna run out of keybinds to replace them with </3]

[wheremermaidsdwell]

i haven't been writing which feels both weird an uncomfortable after my year of Constant Writing and i don't like it i want to get back to it but i gotta break the seal and THIS is the hard part see it's not hard to write when you're writing 1k a day you're in the GROOVE there it's when you don't write for three weeks suddenly i don't want to look at my document in fear

[e-flo]

my tablet dying has, oddly enough, allowed me to reconnect with writing out stories by hand

it's slower but honestly a lot of fun, i forgot i used to handwrite everything years ago. and it's definitely faster to transfer now with text-grab photos rather than retyping everything.

pretty neat :)

[cerealmilker]

while visiting the doctor he asks you if you’d like to participate in highly important medical research for a bit of extra cash, he says they’ll pay five thousand bucks at the end of the research and all you have to do is “run a few standard tests and stay a couple of nights at a research facility”

you agree, i mean he said it was important and the fact they are paying you is a nice added bonus, what could be so bad about a couple of nights in a medical research facility?

the next day you arrive at the address given to you, an empty secluded carpark, with a black SUV parked in the middle. you get out expecting maybe a doctor or a scientist to happily greet you, they did say it was highly important, surely this is normal right? instead four suited men emerge from the doors of the vehicle and grab you roughly by the arms and legs carrying you into the car, kicking and struggling you notice one reach into his pocket, pull out a small cloth and push it close against your face. you only remember the sweet smell as you blackout.

florescent white light invades your vision when you re awake. groggy, you try to stretch your arms when you realise you cant move them, infact, you cant move anything from your neck down. you look down to see you are strapped down on a padded table, arms pinned to your sides, legs spread apart, naked and vulnerable. you were so confused, what the hell was going on?

you see a man, a clean looking older man wearing a white lab coat enters the room holding a clipboard and a pen and takes a seat next to you in a chair just out of your vision. you try to speak, to ask him what was going on but your words are muffled and barely audible, in your mouth was a small gag. after a couple of minutes hearing him writing on a his clipboard you notice a wet squelching sound approaching you, as it got to where you were strapped on the table you heard the man speak. “time is 22:43, first compatibility test starts now”

you felt multiple long slimy tentacles wrap round your already restrained thighs, more made their way onto your chest circling your breasts and eventually teasing your nipples, they began by gently prodding them, tapping and nudging your nipples before placing one of their suckers on each of them. this can’t be happening. you feel your clit twitch. no this- this is so wrong, you didn’t sign up for this, why was this happening to you? what was this thing? and why….why was it making you wet?

you didn’t get the chance to be confused for much longer, feeling another slimy appendage make its way up your legs, it makes its way up your thigh and then stops, right infront of your cunt. slowly it rubs itself up and down your slit, mixing its slime with your wetness before making is way to your clit. again it prods, pokes and taps at the bud between your legs. you feel yourself getting wetter and wetter, you really dont want to be turned on by this but something about the way the tentacle on has now switched to suckling gently on your clit has you gushing.

“the subject responds incredibly well to stimulation provided by the first creature” the man speaks calmly, you cant stop your eyes from rolling in the back of your head, every single movement from the appendages had you twitching. its like they new exactly how and where to touch you.

you felt another appendage press at the entrance to your cunt. this one was thicker than the rest, the tip pushes into your hole, and even the first few inches are a stretch. it pushes further and further in stretching your little tight hole nice and wide for it. you cum just from the stretch alone, and the extra stimulation on the rest of your body. whatever this creature is, it does not care that your pussy has never taken anything this big before, it starts brutally shifting in and out of your stretched hole, rubbing up every wall again and again and again. you start to see stars, the overstimulation way too much for your poor body to handle.

and right when you think your on the edge, about to blackout. it stops and pushes deep down, up against your cervix. you feel its hot sticky fluid invade your womb while it twitches up against your walls. all the other appendages stop stimulating your nipples and clit, hearing them slither off and away from the table. you lie and wait, surely it was done secreting whatever fluid has just entered you and will pull out? a couple of minutes turn into ten maybe fifteen, the only sound you could hear being the mans pen on his paper.

again you hear the man speak “test will resume in 3 days, subject and creature will stay linked until birthing”

you start to cry as you hear him leave, realising you’re stuck there. overstimulated cunt stuffed to the brim with alien sperm, and a huge tentacle between your legs to keep you company till the birth of its offspring. lets hope it doesn’t get bored and play with that swollen little bud of yours.

[multi-fandom-imagine]

If you don't want to write this it's completely fine

Could you please do Adam, Husk, Lucifer and Alastor (separately) x fem!reader who is going through *that* time of the month and how they'd try to help? (Love your writing btw)

A/n: you're so sweet, thank you.

Adam:

Mind goes right to sex, he heard it helps so why wouldn't he wanna help his girl.

"It's alright beautiful." Adam gave you a wink tugging you close to his chest. "A little blood doesn't bother me."

Really tries, goes to Lute if he see's you are in pain. He does not like seeing you in pain, will honestly try.

Will get any food you want and eat it with you, think's you're the hottest thing to hit heaven and will tell you that. { is low key scared you'd leave him for Lucifer }

"You're so sexy babe, want me to message your tit or thighs? I can do that."

Adam nuzzled his nose into your neck. "I can make you feel good."

Husk:

Will offer to get you drunk to numb the pain sin e he really does not know how any of that shit works.

Husk would let you cuddle into him if you are in pain. You love how soft he is, how warm he is, he is like your own personal heater.

If you are horny, Husk would step up to help you with the problem. Like Adam, he takes no issue with the blood.

Won't ask anyone for help, want's to do it himself and though he may mess up a little he does his best to try.

"Need a drink.?" Seeing the scowl on your face, Husk stepped out from behind the bar to give you an awkward hug. His nose pressing into your neck as his paw slowly ran down your message your stomach.

"I'll make you feel good."

Lucifer:

Is the one that know's the most about period's due to Lillith and Charlie.

Would do anything to help you, go all out to make sure you feel good. You're his number one priority.

"Need anything Princess? A heating pad, something to take the pain away? Sweets? Or do you prefer something savory or salty?" Lucifer stepped close to you taking your hand in his. "Anything you want, it is yours."

Giving him a weak but tired smile, you shifted your body on the bed. "How about a nice cuddle."

"That I can happily do." Sliding in the bed next to you, he nuzzled his nose into your neck.

Finds out you become more fertile when you are pregnant, will practically beg for sex.

Alastor:

Is in between knowing more than Adam and Husk but knowing less than Lucifer. Since he care's about you will offer to help with what you need. He can't have his little doe in pain now can he.

Makes someone useless to grab an essential that you might need.

Hates that your blood drives him a bit crazy, you smell better than before.

"Now why are you up?" Alastor gave you a large grin tilting his head to the side. Stepping towards you, he placed a finger under your chin so you were looking up at him. "Can't have you wandering around when you smell so delicious."

Lets you sit with him while he does his radio broadcasts, you look so cute when you sleep.

[kinq-sleazee]

ok ok , so i don’t want to write a full blown structured ficlet with all the bells and whistles so can we maybe just chat a bit about poly krbk tings?

E. Kirishima X K. Bakugo X Reader

TW! MDNI - Poly , Aged Up, poor writing, seggs

Imagine being best friends with KRBK and just inserting yourself into their lives as a sort of “platonic” third until it’s not really platonic anymore.

Like these two men love you and respect your friendship but the irrepressible attraction between the three of you is just getting too hard to ignore. Especially after a night out at the bar leads you back to their shared apartment.

And maybe the alcohol makes you a little bold and you make some silly little joke like , “let’s just fuck it out of our systems” but you soon quickly realize that you’re the only one laughing.

Between the two of them you never really stood a chance.

Katsuki holds your chin—thumb slowly pressing into your mouth while peering down at you with those fiery eyes. He looks bored almost. Only quirking a brow when you swallow around the digit and moan at the taste. Sweet. From his quirk , no doubt. He talks down to you. As if admonishing a pet. Calls you names. Whore. Slut. Claims that you’ve been planning this all along—secretly waiting for the day to choke on his cock. “That’s all you are. A hole”. At this point he’s pushed three fingers in your mouth. Slowly fucking into your throat while saliva runs down his arm. “I wish you could see yourself, cupcake. S’fucking pathetic how desperate you look”. You want him so bad right now. It’s embarrassing, so you can’t help the tear that falls. “Fuck— you cryin’ , cupcake? So damn cute. Want ya to cry sum more. Fuck that little kitty so hard… turn ya into a poundcake.

Eijiro is nicer than his lover, at least it seems that way at first. He holds you against his front, you can feel his erection pressing into your back. Kissing from the nape of your neck to your shoulder. Bite marks and bruises littering your skin. However, your focus is on the deft fingers skimming up your thighs , rising the fabric of your dress above your hips and running the pad of his finger over your clothed clit. You can feel him smile against your skin. He calls you beautiful. His angel. Perfection. All while fucking the fabric of your panties into your needy hole. “Think you were made for me, darling. Gonna feel so good wrapped around me. That’s what you want , yeah ? Wanna squeeze on daddy’s dick, baby girl ?”

It’s not nearly enough stimulation and you’re literally begging them for something. Anything. You need it at this point.

They oblige. Swiftly undressing you and positioning you in your hands and knees.

Eijiro rubs his meaty cockhead against your quivering hole. It’s big. Painfully so. You whine and attempt to move earning a sharp slap to your thigh. “Didn’t you ask for this, darling ? Why are you running ? Tryna disappoint me ?” And you’re overwhelmed. Chest heaving , eyes blurry and babbling apologies. The redhead hums in acknowledgment and pushes in fully with one powerful thrust.

Bakugo doesn’t really care to hear your cries so he shuts you up with his cock. With a hand buried in your hair he pistons in and out of your mouth, setting a brutal pace. He stops ever so often to let you breathe or spit in your mouth but then it’s right back to choking on his cock.

They use you for their pleasure this first time. Rutting into you carelessly, sloppily chasing their orgasms. Of course they make you cum— Eijiro rubbing your clit and Katsuki pinching your nipples — but it lacks finesse.

When the post-nut clarity settles their able to really tend to your needs. Katsuki settles between your legs, whispering sweet praises to your “pretty little pussy” then running the flat of his tongue through your cum coated folds. Eijiro joins him, drinking up his own spend while sucking on your pleasure point and massaging Bakugo’s tongue with his own.

You’re dead tired and sensitive when you cum again but much to your despair and pleasure these two are just getting started.

[hyunebunx]

DENI!!! i've been a little bit out of here 😣😣 but i received the notif of your post......... the soft thought ( more like domestic details, which i love ) is painting hyune's nails. you do not know how to properly do it, because the nail polish always lands on the skin surrounding the nail, and even if you try to do a desing, like a little flower w a couple of points, it ends up all messed up. imagine a quiet afternoon, after watching some tv show, all cozy and warm, and he offers you his nails to practise a little bit. even if you mess it up again, he might actually paint yours and try to follow the same messed up pattern to go matching 🥺

⁺ 𖹭 . genre: fluff and even more fluff!!

⁺ 𖹭 . a/n: MARS!! i wrote this in one go, istg this is the cutest idea ever :( thank you for helping me and letting me write soft hyune fluff, this fixed me fr. i hope you enjoy, my love <333

“Can I do it?” You ask, eyeing his clean nails as Hyunjin reaches up to fix his face mask before doing the same with yours, making sure neither of your headbands fell too low on your foreheads.

“Hm?” He hums, smoothing the thin layer of the sheet mask on your already smooth skin, smiling once your eyes meet. “Do what?”

“Your nails.” You nod towards them, catching one of his hands and bringing it to your lips to peck the back of it, much to his displeasure as the action moves the mask around your face awkwardly. Even so, he was so close to you on the tiny couch that you could feel his heart beating wildly, betraying his true feelings.

Hyunjin tries not to smile too brightly as he nods, fondness clear as day in brown eyes even in the dim light of the living room. “Knock yourself out, baby.” He was never one to reject you, no matter how silly or out of pocket your requests were. Hyunjin would move mountains for you, after all, if that meant you’d be happy forever and keep smiling for him until the day he took his last breath.

The tv ran idly in the background, a rerun of one of your favorite shows as you got to work, gently placing both of your boyfriend’s hands in your lap. His small collection of nail polish was laid before you on the coffee table, accompanied by a file, a bag of cotton pads and nail polish remover. Just in case, you know.

Gently taking one of his hands, you subconsciously intertwine your fingers together as you look over the bottles, brainstorming. Hyunjin takes this moment of silence as an opportunity to reach over and turn on one of lamps by the couch, providing you with more light.

“What are you thinking?” His voice is low, not wanting to disturb you, softly pulling his hand away to massage your palm instead.

“Ladybug nails.”

“What?” He laughs, scooting closer.

You nod, reaching for the bottle of red nail polish. Not like you had many options to begin with, Hyunjin’s palette was limited – something you’d never thought you’d say.

“Your nails are always so dark, I was thinking of doing a cute design for a change.”

He arches a dark brow. “You could use white.”

You pause, tearing your gaze from the bottle to stare at him blankly. “Ladybugs aren’t white.”

The laugh that escapes him has your heart double in size, feeling all warm and fuzzy as he throws his head back in genuine amusement, finding you even more endearing than usual. “Alright, ladybug, do whatever you please. I’ll stop interfering.”

And he keeps his promise, quiet as a mouse as you begin painting his nails, attention stolen by the tv and the snacks you’ve prepared for your weekly movie night. Hyunjin has mastered the art of eating with a face mask on, no crumb landing anywhere near and messing it up. There was nothing he couldn’t do, it seemed.

You’re almost done with his one hand when he slowly reaches to remove your face mask, joining his on a napkin on the table. Usually, he’d also massage the remaining serum into your skin but you could tell he didn’t want to bother you from your new favorite past time. A past time you weren’t particularly skilled in, the nail polish getting everywhere around his nail and even on your clothes, staining the material.

“Uh…” Hyunjin turns to you, wondering why you were sounding so disheartened. “I think I messed up.”

Bringing his hand to eye level, Hyunjin studies your work curiously, analyzing every brush stroke and the big, blotchy black spots that were supposed to be polka dots. The colors were everywhere, on his cuticles and even further down to his knuckles. You’ve mostly stuck to the area around the nail so he couldn’t understand how a black spot managed to go that far.

“Baby, are the ladybugs trying to escape?” He smiles, holding back laughter.

You pout and he leans over to plant smooches on both of your cheeks, trying to make you feel better. “Don’t make fun of me, I tried my best.”

Hyunjin nods, grabbing the black polish from your hand. “I can see that.” Without warning, he starts applying it down his index finger in a strange pattern, causing your mouth to fall open in shock. “And it looks great, love.”

You knew he was lying to try and make you feel better, there was no way he actually thought that.

Biting down on his plush bottom lip, he eventually puts the brush away and gets a hold of your hand before pressing the back of his onto yours, squeezing lightly. You’re so confused that no words escape you, wondering if this was his way of getting back at you for messing up his nails and getting his hand all dirty.

“Done!” He beams, looking so much younger with his hair all pushed back and bare face, cozy and cuddly in his soft pajamas. “Now we match.”

Looking down, you realize the pattern he drew on himself was now on your hand too, tiny lines and spots resembling even tinier footsteps. A ladybug’s footsteps. Or tracks, actually.

Forget beating, your heart almost bursts out of your chest and latches onto him, first his cheek and then plump lips, smooching the area before intertwining with his own and running away together like two forbidden lovers. Hyunjin brought so much needed light into your life, you could barely believe he was real and not a fragment of your rich imagination.

“The ladybug that ran away from my nail has found its way home to you.” He finally laughs, eyes two crescent moons. “It’s silly, please forgive me.”

“Silly?” You blurt out, dragging him by the hand just so he can fall into your waiting arms, hugging him tightly. “It’s only silly if you don’t actually draw a cute ladybug on my hand now.” His arms sneak around your middle, face hiding in your chest as yours move over his shoulders, breathing in the scent of him.

“Only if you do my other hand.” He murmurs, placing a linger kiss right above your beating heart.

You can’t help but grin, thankful for having such a kind person by your side. “Deal!”

[cloudzoro]

Nico Robin Smut Alphabet ♡

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.���☾⋆⁺₊✧

nico robin x fem!reader, smut (minors dni)

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Robin insists on bathing after sex. If one of you was domming, then you'll check on the other, make sure you're happy and unharmed, and then it's off to the bath (or shower) with you. When you're in the water, it's the perfect time for a massage to relax the muscles and ease any lasting tension. She's very quiet but very soft and loving. It's when her guard is down the lowest with you.

✩♬ ₊˚.☁️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

B = Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Robin's favourite part of her is naturally her hands. It took a lot of work, healing and pain to embrace her power and the reputation that comes with it. Now that her power is used much differently than she had used it before, she's come to appreciate her hands and their uses. They're also good at reducing you down to a whimpering mess.

On you, she'd tell you it's a hard decision she has to agonise over, but it's easily your chest. Boob size doesn't matter to her as long as she has something to suck on. If hickies are noticeable in your complexion, you're about to be marked up 24/7. If not, it doesn't matter to her; she's still going to lick, suck and bite at the skin of your chest. The most important thing to her about your chest is what it protects:your heart. She likes to lie down on your chest after a long night with you and just listen to your heartbeat. It reassures her that you're here and she's safe.

✩♬ ₊˚.☁️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Her cum tastes good. That pussy is magical, I know it. She creams and leaves a ring of it around the strap when you top.

She's not much of a squirter, but she hopes you are bc there's nothing she loves more than making you gush like a water fountain and then licking you through it, slurping up everything you've got to give her.

✩♬ ₊˚.☁️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

She's been using your body for research. When you're asleep, after she's worked you out so good you can barely focus, she scribbles notes into a small pad she has tucked away under her pillow. She writes about how you react to her, what she did that made you moan the loudest, the changes in your breathing pattern, the way you begged for her, and how many times she made you cum. She wants nothing more than to know your body inside and out.

✩♬ ₊˚.☁️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Robin had a few drunken baroque works hookups, but she had minimal experience when you both met. You were the more experienced of the two of you, but she knew exactly what she was doing. You grew together, learning about each other's bodies and what feels good. Now, you're both plenty experienced and pleasing each other is second nature.

✩♬ ₊˚.☁️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

F = Favourite position (this goes without saying)

If she's topping, she prefers cowgirl; you look so pretty riding her strap and she gets to watch your tits bounce with each movement.

If you're topping, she likes doggy; place a pillow under her hips, push her face into the pillows and fuck her nice and deep.

If there are no toys involved, she likes to pin you down to the mattress with her power, spread your legs and grind down onto your clit. She loves scissoring with you <3

✩♬ ₊˚.☁️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)

Honestly, Robin is pretty good at just following the vibes. If you're in a giggly mood and just want to have fun with your beautiful girlfriend then she follows along. If you're in the mood for something slowed down and romantic then she switches her tone to be more serious.

✩♬ ₊˚.☁️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Robin trims and she keeps a neat triangle of hair but she doesn't shave. She doesn't like the feeling of being completely bare.

✩♬ ₊˚.☁️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Robin likes to read - and though it's mostly non-fiction, she occasionally finds herself digging into a steamy romance novel - so she's all about the romance. Break out the candles, rose petals, smooth music, and lingerie. She waxes poetic about your pussy. You'd think your cum was her life force with the way she talks to you during sex. She's all the way down bad for you and vice versa. While she can keep it fun and lighthearted, she can only feel that way because its you. Sex is an indicator of your more profound connection, and Robin LOVES the Intimacy of it all.

✩♬ ₊˚.☁️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Robin doesn't masturbate much after the two of you get together, but she when does she takes it slow. She closes her eyes to picture you touching and slowly rubs her clit. She uses her devil fruit power to slip two fingers inside of herself, trying to hit the exact angle you usually get. She sighs your name as she lazily rubs her clit. When she eventually cums, she does so with your name on her lips.

✩♬ ₊˚.☁️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Giving: Bondage - Whether it be artful shibari or the power of the hana hana no mi, Robin wants to tie you up. She likes creating pretty patterns across your body with rope. She has a small box of pictures of you tied up in the most intricate shibari designs. She loves to use toys on you while you're tied. It's addicting to watch you shake and whimper with nothing to grab onto.

Giving: Squirting - As previously discussed, she's addicted to the sight of you gushing and making a mess of the sheets beneath you. She'll work you over and over again with her fingers and tongue until you're exhausted and there's a puddle beneath you. She won't let you be embarrassed by it. You better be ready for her to suction her mouth to you and swallow down every drop she can get from you.

Receiving: Spitting - She doesn't see why it would be gross to desire your spit. Your saliva gets into her mouth when kissing. Why is this any different? She genuinely sees it as another form of kissing. When you're on top of her, she'll open her mouth for you, wordlessly begging for you to lean over and spit into her pretty little mouth.

Receiving: Size. Robin has a size kink, but it's not to do with height or weight; instead she's addicted to getting her tight pussy stretched out. There's something delicious about the way you bully your fat strap into her pussy. When you're fingering her, she begs for more fingers until your whole fist is pushing inside her. She loves the hours of size training, building up to her taking the biggest monster strap you own. Don't worry, she can take it.

✩♬ ₊˚.☁️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

L = Location (favourite places to do the do)

She's classic, she likes the bed. The comfort of your bedroom is necessary for her. It's a sanctuary, your own little world where no one else is present. She can lay your pretty head down against the pillows and go to town without worrying about your physical discomfort or the possibility of getting caught. It's also personal and intimate.

She doesn't mind having some fun in the bath or shower. A cheeky second (or fifth 🤭) round in the shower is sometimes just what she needs to wake her up and energise her.

✩♬ ₊˚.☁️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

There isn't much that doesn't turn her on about you. Everything you do drives her crazy. One of her faves is flashes of your underwear. If you're wearing a lace pair that you know she likes and you bend over to ‘pick something up’, she can't help but use her power to reach up under your skirt. When no one's looking, she pulls your underwear down and pockets it. Now, when she's done with your teasing, she pulls you into a bathroom or cupboard and shoves her hand up your skirt with no obstructions. She's also very, very weak to kisses on the shoulder. If you give her a kiss and a compliment, she's immediately ready to do whatever you tell her.

✩♬ ₊˚.☁️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anal. Only for receiving. If you want her to fuck you in the ass, she's more than happy to indulge you. She's just not a fan of receiving. She's also not too keen on public sex (outside of the sunny). Teasing in public is fine, but you'll have to wait until you get home for anything more. She feels unsafe outside.

✩♬ ₊˚.☁️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

69 babe. Robin can't decide if she likes receiving or giving more. She loves the feeling of your tongue on her pussy. When she touches herself, she thinks about the way you suck on her clit and press your tongue against her walls. She also loves the taste of you. She stays between your legs, devouring her meal, until you're whining and begging. She's too good at it; she starts messy, there isn't an inch of your pussy that doesn't receive attention from her, then she focuses on your clit. Lapping at your clit is like muscle memory at this point.

✩♬ ₊˚.☁️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Robin prefers slow and sensual. She likes to take her time to make sure you're properly satisfied. She can go fast and rough if the scenario calls for it, but she ultimately prefers focusing on your pleasure and taking it slow.

✩♬ ₊˚.☁️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

As previously stated, Robin prefers slow, sensual sex, and quickies don't lend themselves to that type of sex. She doesn't hate them, but there's no way she could accurately express her love and attraction to you in less than ten minutes. She also needs a lot of build-up to cum. It takes her a while to get there, and you need to take your time.

✩♬ ₊˚.☁️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

When it comes to experimentation, Robin is a freak. She's down to try anything you present to her, and she already has some wild and occasionally taboo kinks.

If there's legitimate risk involved, Robin is very thorough in getting your consent and verbally outlining the risk multiple times to make sure you both understand.

✩♬ ₊˚.☁️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Robin's Stamina is impressive. She can last much longer than you. The more time you spend together, the more pussy obsessed she gets. She can last at least an hour before even cumming. She doesn't pressure you to keep up with her and her crazy stamina though you pretty much can anyway.

✩♬ ₊˚.☁️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

You have a plethora of toys. With how close you two are to Franky, you might as well have a monthly subscription to your own personal sex toy blind box. He's very supportive of your relationship and always willing to help out with whatever crazy blueprint Robin brings to him. You own straps in various sizes, vibrators with fun attachments, rope, and sex candles. You two would probably look like sex-obsessed freaks (you are) if one of your friends went snooping through your room.

✩♬ ₊˚.☁️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

I hope you're strong willed because Robin is a tease. Slow touches and soft words purposefully avoiding touching your pussy. She'll explain in great detail all the things she's going to do to you but she's still kneeling above you fully dressed and you want her to act on her words then you better undress her yourself. If you want something then you have to ask properly or she'll just press kisses or run her hands around the area but won't actually do what you want until the words leave your mouth. She's a huge tease, she doesn't take too kindly about being on the receiving end though.

✩♬ ₊˚.☁️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

When she's domming, she's very vocal. She talks you through everything she's doing to you. She tells you how she's going to make you cum until you're completely spent. She has no problems being vocal when she's in control; it's when she's subbing or bottoming that she struggles. When you first get together, she's quiet. There's nothing wrong with being quiet In bed, but Robin isn't quiet because she wants to be. Robin holds back on purpose and it takes you quite a while into your relationship to finally break that wall down. Now that you have, she's all too happy to whine and moan as you make love to her. She always always cums with a cry of your name.

✩♬ ₊˚.☁️⋆☾⋆⁺₊

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

I touched on it earlier, but I think Robin has difficulty cumming at first. This might be a case of me projecting onto my fave, but I think she needs external and internal stimulation or it's just not enough for her. She needs to be in a comfortable mental state, too. Some people need an extra bit of loving to release, and Robin is one of those people.

✩♬ ₊˚.☁️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Her tits? Huge. As a big titty girl (32H), I understand the pain and responsibility that comes with such great power. They're natural, so they sit a little low, and one is slightly bigger than the other. Her nipple plates are dark and larger than average, and her nipples are pretty big (and perfect to suck on)

She's so beautiful. I think her clit is more prominent (which is why she loves scissoring so much). She's got a little bush that she keeps trimmed, and her lips aren't that big, so she has a more ‘exposed’ clit.

✩♬ ₊˚.☁️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Robin is pretty much ready to go whenever you are. Her engine is pretty much revved 24/7. She's not ungodly horny where she's ready to cum all the time, she's just prepared to love on you whenever you need it. All you have to do is ask her if she wants to go somewhere else, and she's horny for you.

✩♬ ₊˚.☁️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep)

Robin doesn't fall asleep straight away. She stays up for a little longer. Sometimes, an orgasm can wake her up a bit, and she stays up reading a book while you rest. Sometimes, she likes to lay with you after a shower and just caress your skin, unwilling to fall asleep until she knows you're sound asleep, safe and satisfied.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed!! comments and reblogs are appreciated ♡♡

tag list: @bloodfixnd @sexysapphicshopowner @beachaddict48 @lem-hhn

my tag list is open for my general tag list or specific characters!!

[piyushflip]

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[mariahcarreyyy]

Hii!!! CONGRATULATIONS ON 2K! I love reading your work, it’s always amazing 💕

Do you think you could write something with this angst prompt “lashing out even though they know they will regret it” for Oscar ? And maybe he is the one lashing out?

# prompt no.7, lashing out even though they know they will regret it

mariahcarreyyy's 2k celebration announcement post

Sometimes, Oscar wishes he could scream at everyone who calls him unbothered.

He wishes they could see him now, irritation coursing through his veins, mixing with his blood like water and oil; he wishes they could witness the dark cloud looming over his muscular frame, following him and more ever-present than his own shadow; he wishes they could cower at the sight of the scowl on his face, nose scrunched in distaste at all times.

The results of his race had been enough to send him over the edge. A less than satisfactory eighteenth, and it echoes bitterly in his head the entire race debreif.

Lando squeezes an encouraging hand on Oscar's shoulder as they both walk out of the papaya garage, and Oscar can't bring himself to do anything but send Lando a shaky smile.

A prolonged car ride, and a few hours later, the driver twists the doorknob of your shared flat. Oscar's shoulders visibly drop, leaving the remains of a bad race on the floor and letting his body (mind and soul) rest.

"Osc? Y'home?"

Your voice cuts through the silence, and Oscar wants to punch his own gut at how his jaw clenches at the sound. Relax, he reminds himself. But Oscar can't—he knows he can't.

Because the residual pounding in his head is making him wince; he's sweaty and shivering; he's famished and cannot bear the thought of food; he's put off by the sight of you before him and he wants to be cradled in your arms, too.

It's all too confusing for him. Oscar decides being angry would be easier, flow smoothly against his tongue. He almost forgoes his plan when his brown eyes meet your pity-laced ones.

"Hey, baby," you murmur, hesitantly reaching up to cup his cheeks. "I'm sorry, 'bou—"

Sweet nothings die in your throat when Oscar swerves away from your touch, wincing distastefully. Seemingly refusing to look at you, his eyes dart anywhere but the comfort of yours.

"I don't need you to baby me," Oscar grits out, his hips swaying to glide past you and the crestfallen look on your face.

"Oh," you bite the inside of your cheek, hands flailing helplessly to your side and watching him pad against the cold floors. "Okay, uh. There's pasta on the stove if you're hungry."

Oscar pinches his wrist. The thought of tangible pain seemed more comfortable than the guilt gnawing in his heart. Still, Oscar laments, you are too nice; I'm cruel now, and you shouldn't be this way towards me. He refrains from turning around when he hears you audibly exhale shakily.

"M'not hungry," he shouts again, slamming the door behind him without looking back.

Without looking at you.

authors note. i dont like this honestly i feel like its very ooc bcs i dont see osc lashing out a lot. i made him feel guilty idk if that helped. en e wayz enjoyy xx

[planetsage]

NEW PIN ! ꒰ 🪷 ANYTHING 𖧧˚⋆ʚɞ ── kento nanami 𝜗𝜚 .

<- SAVE ?

contains. sfw, angst ish but only bc ……. but overall fluff. creator note. this was a request from @ateohsixxxx. i listened to ‘vibe with me’ on repeat writing this and a few other songs. hopefully you like <33 sorry if i totally butchered what you had in mind this started off as smut then pure angst then .. this so! also tagging @lacyohlacyyy bc youre the biggest nanami luver ik!

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the foamy ocean waves gently lapped against the darkened shore, white crests illuminated by the final breaths of daylight. each wave woven by mother nature’s gentle hands carries with it a soft sizzle as it caresses the shore, leaving behind a glistening film that tenderly kisses each shell, each grain of sand with its elements. the soft hum of their rhythm blends beautifully, creating a lullaby—nature’s lullaby— that strokes at your sandy ear.

the other rests against nanami’s chest where his heart chimes in to sing a chorus against his ribs. your body curled into his. intertwined.

cool air that carries a salty tang fights the faint smell of your sunscreen for dominance over your senses, sweeping over you, blooming goosebumps, but nanami’s warm embrace soothes and chases them away. his arm draped over your frame, fingers delicately tracing patterns and shapes over the little hairs that stand on your back.

peaking over the flat line of the horizon, the sun sets and dips, leaving an afterglow that basks the sky in an array of ambers and roses and amethysts.

you had always known of nanami’s dream to travel to malaysia.

late at night, in the quiet intimacy, when your slowed breaths tricked him into thinking he’d lost you to sleep’s tender grasp, he’d kiss your head and whisper against your scalp how he wished you two could disappear to the little country. he’d build a quaint beach house that overlooks the sea, where you two could grow old and sit in creaky little rocking chairs— you clacking needles together, knitting some colorful scarf as your grandchildren’s light feet padded through the living room.

family.

for your 1 year anniversary, you brought part of his dream to fruition. a one-week getaway, a promise to the future. a gesture filled with love and hope. an attempt to capture the essence of his dream, if only for a short while.

the setting sun brushed its last few strokes of gold against the sky before letting the stars take over and peek through. nothing else existed outside of this moment. outside of him.

as if reading your thoughts, he shifted. pulling you closer … closer. his breath warm against your hair, “thank you”

until then, the silence had been filled by breaths that slowly fell in sync. by families that squealed, packing up, loading their cars with sandy feet and arms, and sleepy, sun-kissed children. noisy seagulls chased by eager dogs dragging grinning owners down the shore.

you smiled up at him, your eyes reflecting the twinkling stars that decorated the velvet sky. “you don’t have to thank me, ken.” your reply is soft. he makes you soft. “this is as much for me as it is for you. i wanted us to just … have a place where we could forget everything else, y’know? even if it’s just for a little while.”

“i know,” his voice barely rang above a whisper. as if speaking any louder would break the fragility of the tender moment.

“but it means more than you can imagine, my love. being here with you... it’s something i’ve always wanted, but never— never thought i’d have.”

there’s a faint crack in his voice. a fissure in the cadence you’ve only known to soothe, and love and reassure.

and an ache tugs your heart, a deep, deep throb mirroring his own. you gently reach up, cupping his warm cheek in your hand so softly, holding his actual beating heart, “we can have it. one day, we can make this our reality. we can have the little house by the sea, the— the family. everything.”

nanami’s gaze traces onto the shore, the brown in his eyes reflecting the way the waves dance and gather in solace.

the scene before him blurs.

“do you really believe that?”

“i do”

the night continued to wrap you both in a warm embrace and his face grew soft hearing your words, how reassured you sounded. how confident in him. in your dream for the both of you. deeply set wrinkles smooth and he nods, “mm. i want to believe in a future where we can have everything we’ve dreamed of, too”

“then let’s make it happen.”

with a faint smile, nanami leaned down, letting his lips purse and press against yours softly. tenderly.

“i love you,” he said simply, his voice carrying the weight of all the emotions he can’t quiet put into words; there just aren’t any in the dictionary that could ever, ever, ever convey in purest form how much you mean to him, “more than anything in this world.”

“i love you too,”

the stars continued to shine their ancient light upon you and the ocean continued to whisper its eternal lullaby; you lay together, wrapped in each other’s arms.

“always.”

© planetsage 2024 all rights reserved. no part of this may be reproduced in any form.

[xob1tchs]

can u write something about reader and ethan in bed together trying to sleep? ethan being the big spoon and reader the little.

reader backs into ethan which causes ethans cock to harden, reader being confused on what the random poking is on her ass.

ends in smut ^_^

you’re dying

ethan landry x fem!reader

warnings; smut, handjob, blowjob, cum eating, pet names i.e. baby, unedited

a/n; title inspo here 🤨 idk if oral was what you had in mind but it’s where my mind went!! Hope u like <3

you blink at the screen of your laptop, intrigued, glancing to where ethans fingers glide along the pad, clicking harshly to start the movie.

noise errupts from the speakers, and you startle slightly, before quickly melting into ethan as he slots himself behind you, tugging the covers of the both of you.

the action movie drones on, ethan occasionally judging the story, or the acting, whispering his thoughts lowly into your ear, making you chuckle.

you shift beneath the covers, hips swiveling, accidentally grinding back into his crotch, a tiny shocked gasp flying past your lips when ethans hard cock slots between your cheeks, firm and so big.

“shit baby, stop moving” he groans, one of his hands gripping your hip, fingers digging into the meaty skin harshly.

you chew your lip, no longer interested in the movie playing on the screen, not when you can feel ethan through the thin material of you sleep shorts - forgoing panties because you forgot to pack some.

Your thighs clench tightly, heat pooling between your legs, fingers toying with the hem of your shorts anxiously under the covers.

You roll your hips into ethans crotch again, whimpering under your breath at the friction, licking your lips at the image of him behind you, brows drawn tight in frustration, trying his best not to give in.

“e, you okay?” you ask quietly, hand reaching behind you, small fingers wrapping around him through the fabric of his shorts, squeezing at the base.

he lets out a shudder, warm breath heavy against your ear, before he’s slamming the laptop shut, and grinding into your touch.

you smile to yourself, spinning around meeting ethan halfway when he sits up, chasing your lips, kissing you with urgency, messy and wet, more teeth clashing than lips meeting.

you smile into his mouth, hand drifting down his body and beneath the band of his shorts, fingers wrapping around the tip of his cock, thumb pressing to his slit, making him gasp – hips bucking and stuttering.

You tug him free of his shorts and boxers, planting a sweet kiss to his nose, before you level yourself with his cock, looking up at him through your lashes “m’gonna suck you off” you murmur, looking at his beastly cock, as if it were a challenge.

you wet your lips, hand wrapping around the base, gliding up, pressing your palm flat to the tip, before you wrap your around around him again, letting a glob of spit fall past your lips, making the glide down easier.

Sticking your toungue out, you lick along the underside, swirling the tip, before you wrap your lips around him, sinking down slowly, humming in satisfaction when he hits the back of your throat.

“Oh, oh fuck baby” he groans from above you, letting out tiny curses and moans, fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of your neck, knuckles tense and keeping a firm hold on the silky strands.

You smile around him, bobbing up and down swiftly, even as you gag and choke around him, saliva running down your chin and his balls, making a mess on his bed sheets. You don’t let up, pace quick, taking him so deep it makes you light headed, forcing you to pause, paying extra attention to his tip while you catch your breath, throat already itchy and sore.

When you do take him back down your throat, he whines from above you, hips bucking up, causing you to gag, tears welling in your eyes at the sudden intrusion.

“Baby, feels so fucking good, mouth is so fucking perfect” he mumbles, head falling back, nails pressing to your scalp, strength forcing you down until your nose presses to his pelvis.

You hum at the praise, blinking up at him through teary lashes, mascara streaks running down your cheeks, lips swollen around his fat cock. If he could reach it, he would definitely snap a polaroid to add to his collection.

You hollow your cheeks, sucking extra hard, hand creeping up his legs to palm his balls, squeezing and kneading them, before you kiss down his length and take one into your mouth, sucking harshly, his cock jumping at the pleasure, pulsating in your palm as you jerk him off.

The noises are nasty, slick and loud, slurping and moaning from your mouth, silent please and raspy groans as ethan feels his orgasm creep up on him, looking down at you with desperate eyes.

“M’cum baby, baby please don’t stop, almost there” he warns, and you smile in anticipation, licking up his cock, teething at the prominent veins, before wrapping your lips aroud his tip, sucking and licking, palm paying attention to the rest of his length.

Your eyeslids flutter closed as he cums, the warm white liquid panting your mouth, throat aching as you swallow eagerly, taking him down your throat one last time, cum gusing out at the corners of your mouth, before you pull of him with a pop.

You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, breaths lazy as you shimmy up the bed, smiling with your eyes “your turn”

[anlian-aishang]

Tags: levi ackerman x reader, mutual pining [coworkers] to smut, only one bed, non-sexual spitting, alcohol mention, reader wears levi’s shirt, cunnilingus, penetration, modern AU, fem!reader Word count: 10,000 A/N: thank you to @lostinwildflowers for betaing this! Birch is one my writing idols, so I am truly honored. I hope you enjoy <3

This can’t be happening.

Unknowingly, the two of you shared a silent sentiment. After a late taxi, long lines of airport security, and racing to the terminal only to be delayed for several hours, the cherry on the shit sundae - as he would put it - was the midnight arrival to a hotel with only one bed.

“You’re sure?”

The look on the nervous teenager’s face conveyed the answer before he even uttered the question. Still, Levi knew he had to ask, audibly enough for you to hear - just so you would know that he did. In the face of liability, you had to acknowledge that he had tried his best.  

“I’m really sorry, sir.” Their eyes were darting in panic between you and Levi as if you were the antidote to this angry customer. But he wasn’t angry, at least, not at them. Wasn’t the brat’s fault that Erwin booked the wrong room. “I have that in the afternoon of September the 15th, E. Smith booked a single king bed for one adult guest.”

“Two adult guests.”

They shared a lengthy eye contact. From the background, you watched their miscommunication unfold and cringed with secondhand embarrassment. You nearly burst into nervous laughter when they shrugged, “I can provide you with extra complimentary toiletries.”

At his sides, Levi unclenched his fists in defeat, “...We’ll manage.”

The plastic key cards made a satisfying sound as the receptionist slid them across the marble countertop - equal and opposite to the dissatisfaction on Levi’s face. In one smooth motion, he handed you your copy while simultaneously whipping out his cell phone. Two clicks - speed dial and call. Two rings - Erwin answered.

You couldn’t hear the other end, but you had your guesses.

Hello?

“You fucked up.”

Sorry?

“As you should be.”

For what? 

“Stuffing two adults in one bed, what made you think we’d appreciate that accommodation?”

Given the looks you’ve been giving each other at the office, I thought you might. 

Levi violently snapped his phone closed in hopes you couldn’t hear that. Thrusting his phone in his pocket, he used his free hand to snatch luggage from yours. “Give me that.” 

A kind gesture, but irritation in his voice made it confusing. You thought to grab it back and insist that you could handle it, but instead, held your tongue. Clearly, he was steaming. Any objection, even a well-intended one, you doubted it would better his mood. Walking towards the lift, you concluded that nothing you had to say would supply ice to his ire. Though, the walk, time, and your calming presence, seemed to be working, you thought as you watched him delicately pad the UP button. 

In the intimacy of the elevator, Levi allowed himself one venting word, “Idiot.” He sighed, placed his thumb and pointer finger on each of his temples, and rubbed wrinkles into his skin. “As if we haven’t already been through enough.”

Today and long before, the two of you had been through plenty together. Tonight was the first time you would pin it on Erwin. All other times, it had been your own selves and each other to blame. 

He loved the way you looked in those small pencil skirts and see-through tights, but he hated what it did to him. Meetings in which he could only stare, absorbing nothing. In the middle of a phone call, when you walked by, he would forget its purpose and stammer aimlessly. Nights kept awake, staring at his ceiling, a blank canvas for projecting his wandering thoughts: how you would look with the skirt yanked up and the tights pulled down, how you took your outfit off after work, and if you wanted his help with that. 

Countless times, you had cursed the man you crushed on. The way he ran his fingers through his hair when overworked made you want to try it yourself, to take his stressors away - or better yet - serve as the relief to them. On hot days, he loosened his top button. On lucky days, the top two. On his way out the door, he would tug his tie out from under his collar, creating a loop wide enough for you to slip your hand through and use it to pull his lips to yours - or so you imagined. Each day, Levi had fed you tastes. Over time, your craving for him had grown unbearable. 

Ultimately, this out-of-town assignment was a test, and a final exam at that. Years of studying one another were culminating in one night, on one bed. The chime of the elevator interrupted your thoughts as if it was a warning: ground yourself. The plain of Levi’s expression and calm in his pace on the way to room 845 echoed its sense: he was unriled, uninterested. 

Your read was wrong. Levi was thankful that you trailed him: with his back to you, you could not see his rouge tint, the bite of his lip, or the twitch of his cheek. As he pressed his key to the reader, held the heavy hotel door, and slugged both of your belongings atop the desk and dresser, you admired the way he moved so suavely - when actually, he considered his motions stiff, careful, and calculated. 

Neither of you bothered to turn on the light. Taxed bodies, tired eyes, and tempted temperaments shared a desire to finally climb in bed. No need to delay things any longer. Levi unzipped his suitcase, the sound garnered your attention. Immediately, you noticed now neatly he had packed, admired his organization and pristine folds, then planned that when it came your time to unpack, you would aim to shield your messy methods from the clean freak’s vision.

A gray cotton tee - matching his eyes, black sweatpants - same shade as his hair. A navy canvas travel bag topped the pile. Levi leaned effortlessly against the white bathroom door and stated, “I’ll change in here.”

You nodded vehemently, as if he had ordered you on an important mission, “I’ll be out here.” 

Cute. And at that intrusive thought, he silently ducked away. 

Unbuckling his belt, tugging his zipper, freeing his legs from his slacks, Levi tipped his head back against the wall and sighed. Every muscle in his body finally untensed, he was set free from one cage of many. His business-casual confines had been done away with. Now, he just had professionalism, work relationships, and his fucking hormones to maintain. 

His boxer briefs were agitatingly taut, struggling to constrain years’ worth of tension in their cotton threads. Levi looked down to his lap and cursed himself. Hovering around thirty, yet all the composure of a fresh young bachelor. Gradually, Levi hooked his thumb beneath the elastic waistband and loosened just a little, allowing him room to breathe. Too much room maybe as the chill thermostat air contrasted harshly with his warmed passion and drew a loud hiss. Levi clenched his teeth hard in an attempt to bar his vocals, praying to whatever power that you wouldn’t knock on the door and call Levi, you alright? It was just the kind of person you were, and Levi had come to know you well. 

That anxiety turned out to be false, for your ears were ringing: ignorant of his desires, overwhelmed by your own. Gingerly, you unzipped your luggage and fret at the sight: a little black nightgown with lace on the hems. Its sight hit you like a load of bricks, lightning to the thunderous memory of your midnight, sleep-deprived, frantic packing. That woman was giddy for the business trip with her office crush and, in that frenzy, picked her sexiest pajamas for the special occasion. Goddammit! If only you knew that he wouldn’t be seeing it from across the room as a tease, he would be sleeping next to it, maybe even feeling it if one of you crossed your half of the mattress. Cursing yourself, you dug frantically in search of something - anything - else to wear to bed, but were rudely met with only pantsuits and blouses. You bunched your nightgown in your trembling fists, but its thinness and shortness allowed it to fit wholly in your hands - foiling your coping strategy. All you could do was tip your head back and sigh to the ceiling, Fuck me.

That feeling echoed when you draped it over yourself and saw your reflection in the hotel window. Your hair was disheveled from the long day. Makeup smeared and ran down your face, eyeliner to eyeshadow. Wrinkles in your silk dress. Looks like you were already fucked. 

On the other side of the door, Levi was thinking the same thing: he was absolutely fucked. His erection stood high after minutes of waiting. Cold water splashed on his face, but his fever seemed to evaporate it. Trying to think about humbling topics, but he couldn’t get you off his mind. To make his arousal vanish, there was one thing he could do, but there wasn’t enough time for that. Even if the shower were running, Levi doubted that the downpour of water would be able to suppress the noises of slapping skin or his embarrassingly heightened vocals. Fuck. Levi clutched the bathroom countertop and sighed at his reflection. His exhale fogged the mirror just before he hung his head down and conceded. God, help me. 

His prayers ignored, you ended up knocking on the bathroom door eventually: “Levi?”

Every nerve in his body froze. He stammered more times than he would have liked before managing a stern “What?”

“Sorry! I just -” humiliated heat seemed to radiate off of you, “- take your time, I just -”

Half listening, half panicking, Levi seemed not to pay mind to your take your time - stepping into his joggers and throwing on his shirt as fast as he could.

“- can I brush my teeth?”

You were startled when his response was a quick and loud turn of the handle, wordlessly letting you in. Levi was surprised to see you the way you were: temptress dress with a toothbrush and toothpaste innocently perched in each hand. The eye contact lasted for three seconds, but you could have sworn that it was that many years long. 

The twitch of your hands and your heart’s lofty goals placed a dollop of toothpaste twice as big as you normally would. Had to have perfect breath, just in case. Not even just in case, you were going to lay beside him - mere inches away - for the next several hours. In those seconds of pondering, gravity began to spill your toothpaste off the bristles and towards the pristine marble vanity. With haste, you jammed the toothbrush into your mouth, causing you to gag on your device. 

Levi felt his erection press against his waistband and rolled his eyes at his own stupid urges. You assumed that eye roll was for you and offered an innocent grin. Not so innocent, however, was your curiosity. His t-shirt was tight, leaving little to the imagination. One arm’s reach from an array of muscles, you kept your eyes deliberately on the mirror ahead. However, your doppelganger had a mind of her own apparently, gaze falling from eye contact and onto his chest, waist, abdomen. Without even having to turn his head, Levi could see your staring, obviously more obvious than you thought it would be. With your attention on his lower half, Levi allowed himself a smirk. 

Such a silly thing, but was this the first time you brushed your teeth next to someone? This handful of minutes was inexplicably romantic, oddly domestic. Pajamas, double sinks, and the end of a long day. You had been coworkers, acquaintances, and unknowingly requited lovers, but for this one moment, you were husband and wife. 

White toothpaste lined the gap between his top and bottom lip, and for some reason, you felt your knees buckle. Levi ducked down to spit, a polite attempt to hide it. Your eyes rejected his offer, instead widening as your pupils honed in on the sight. Leaning forward ever so slightly, you savored yet loathed the way his rejection ran down the pipe. What a waste. 

Levi sheathed his toothbrush back in its protective case, a neat freak through and through, and slid it back into his tote. Sifting through, he stumbled upon a mini bottle of mouthwash, making him freeze with indecision: added freshness at the cost of spitting in front of you again? He felt that once had already been rude enough. Levi shot you a side-eye and made an unexpected eye contact: he was trying to read you, you were already staring. Mutually miscommunicated guilt, both of you felt you had been caught and snapped back to aversion. 

It came your turn to rinse your mouth, and he couldn’t help it. Levi could have blamed his peripheral vision, could have blamed the bright lights that lined the mirror, but hard-pressed, he could not come up with an excuse for why he watched you then. The streak of white that shot out of your mouth, its wake dribbling down your lips. Goddammit, you cursed your clumsiness and hastily wiped your mess with a washcloth. He knew it as well as you did: he should have been grossed out. Only Levi realized, though, how much he liked it, he was just too ashamed to admit it. 

Though his arousal screamed, his lips stayed silent. There was a time and place.

Was there? You’ve worked together for how long? All those years, they never had a time or place?

A long inhale, a slow exhale, his fingers curled underneath the cold countertop, hoping its chill would thwart the flush of his chest. Fuck how badly he wanted to kiss you then, to thumb that white stain off your chin and into his mouth, to clutch the backs of your thighs and hoist you onto that vanity. Your waist in his hands, your sex in line with his -

“Levi?”

“Yeah?”

His rapid response, you mistook it as anger. While the voice on his shoulder was lust, yours was insecurity. Surely, you’re the last straw. Having to share a bed with a dork like you? He’s had a tough day. Don’t make him endure this.

“Do you want me to take the floor?”

A dumbbell dropped to the pit of his stomach. Of course not, but for you to bring it up, he must have been hasty to assume that you would share the bed. Levi grit his teeth, annoyed with his lofty goals. Two slow blinks, “I can.”

That was the last thing you wanted. “N-No… I don’t - I don’t mean…” Your lips parted in stammer. Eyes darted as if the tile walls would whisper you the answer. For a moment, you cursed the beautiful neutrality of his face: impossible not to love, but impossible to read. His stillness was contagious, though, and brought you to settle on an answer, “I’ll meet you under the sheets.”

Ears burned red as they checked: was that selective hearing or was that what you really said? Before his eyes could study you, you turned on your heel and closed the door shut.

Once again, on opposite sides of the door, your sentiment was shared: Phew. 

He took a few minutes after that. When he finally walked out, he found that you had been lotioning your legs over that time. Dim glow of the bedside lamp reflected on your smooth skin. If not for the way he had come to know you, to respect and appreciate you, this sight could have been the cover of some sketchy magazine. Eagerness glazed your eyes. Your hands had been massaging your inner thighs, now a perfect shield for the gem between your legs. Levi gave the slightest shake of his head, not disapproval, but disbelief. How did you manage such effortless perfection?

Was that not everything about you, though? The most minute smile in meetings. Biting your lip when you were bored. A laugh so beautiful that it served as its own positive reinforcement, beckoning others to amuse you again. Were you the one? 

Or was it the eyes of your beholder? Maybe you weren’t perfect, maybe that’s why you were in his eyes. Despite all the signs of your singlehood - never in a rush to get home, never a mention of a date - he never truly believed it. It was a war of his flawless intuition and steep infatuation. Either you were the one for him, or he had been wrong all these years. 

Get in the bed, idiot. 

His stride was steady, captivating, as he made his way to the side of the bed. In habit, Levi crossed his arms across his torso, prepared to lift up, but caught himself halfway. No, he would not be sleeping shirtless tonight. Neither would he sleep in his loose and breathable boxer shorts, but instead, stifling fleece. Already, for one reason or another, he was sweating. Upon approach, the layers upon layers of sheets, blanket, and comforter looked even more suffocating. He caught a glimpse of the thermostat, but then of you, and found your skin laden with goosebumps. Lips rolled beneath his teeth, bargaining, but he could not bring himself to turn the AC up while your body temperature was down. Just as strongly, he refused to do anything that might make you uncomfortable, like taking off his clothes, no matter how badly he wanted to. More words would have served you both well, tearing down the artificial barrier your doubts were constructing. 

Can I take this off? 

I would love nothing more.

But you were both stupid to imagine that dialogue.

Levi slowly reclined back, sighing as he sunk into the sheets. Already, his skin was burning. He combed his fingers back through his bangs and released a heavy sigh. A heavenly trial, you read it as a hellish endurance, and instinctually apologized, “...I’m sorry about this.”

You have nothing to be sorry for, Levi pondered the response, but deemed it too much. Instead, he feigned a disinterested mumble, “It’s Erwin’s fault.”

You, on the other hand, indulged your gut feeling, “He’s done worse.”

Levi huffed a single exhale, his version of a chuckle.

You turned on your side. He loved that you chose to face him rather than the wall. He hated that he even thought of that. You were so close, he could feel the mattress dip between you, could feel your breath cool against his skin. Eyes fluttering shut, your voice was either sultry or exhausted, a glass-half-full kind of thing. “Good night, Levi.”

Fuck, what a fight, battling the urge to kiss you then and there. Your eyes sparkling, noses nearly touching, he had sworn that this was how all the shitty romcoms went, but he failed to find anything lackluster about this scene. His lips yearned to close that distance, arms ached to perch themselves at your sides. Levi redirected that energy to his hands, fisting the comforter hard as he draped it gently over your shoulders, “Night, (Y/N).”

But how were you going to sleep like this? Although you were running off a 20-hour day, you felt that sleep would be a waste. Queueing for tickets to see your favorite artist, only to close the window the moment your turn came. Styling your hair just to go and get it cut straight after. Champagne dumped down the drain. Mentally, it was an unbearable thought. Physically, your body was even more resistant to the idea. Your middle was fucking throbbing. Nipples stood tall against their skimpy silk covering as if reaching for more contact, his contact. Legs squirmed against one another, trying to smother the burn between them, but you willed them frozen: don’t wake him up. 

In your best state of mind, you would have recalled the symptoms of his insomnia: always a tall thermos of caffeine on his desk, perpetual circles under his eyes, especially the times you both worked late. On your way out, you would peek through the pane of glass on his door to wave good-bye. Now and then, he would be hunched over his desk, imprints of the keyboard on his cheek - a makeshift pillow for his crash naps. With a shred of thought, you would have realized he was likely already awake, but you were incapable of even that. It was midnight when you crawled into the king bed. Red digits at your side now read 1:40 AM, yet you knew that not one of those one-hundred minutes had been spent in sleep. Coffee in the morning, nerves on the plane, hormones now, you had left composure back at your apartment and you weren’t sure you’d get it back at any point of this business trip. I mean shit, you swore, this was only the first night.

Only the first night. One of many sure to come, right? How many nights had he gone to bed alone, kept awake with longing of having you by his side? How many mornings had he woken himself up with a sleepy mumble of your name, only to find one half of his bed empty? It couldn’t all be for nothing. Now that he was sharing the bed with you, it was all he ever wanted, yet you were still out of reach. Uncharacteristic, the most reliable man you knew was spiraling in thought. 

But to you, it would make sense: the only one who could bring Levi Ackerman down was none other than himself. He saw it a different way: you were the only one who could dismantle him like this.

You could feel his heat emanating, could see his sweat reflecting. Before you could stop yourself, your affection had boiled over, “Levi…” your voice was hoarse, having gone hours without as much as a whisper, and unexpectedly loud. His silver gaze drifted to you, depleting the last of your reserves, you mused, “...you’re hot.”

A statement, not a question. In near pitch blackness, he allowed himself a rare smirk. Levi waited until it faded to turn towards you. 

You pinched the hem of his shirt in your fingertips, nails accidentally scraped his abdomen on the way. “Want this off?” You tugged lightly, “I don’t mind.”

At the same time, you shivered, and Levi filled in the blanks to ground his wandering mind. “Cold?” His hands brushed yours on the way to the bottom of the garment. Levi bunched fists in his fabric and lifted it effortlessly up, over, off his head - as he wanted to do all those hours ago. Pent-up relief, he thrust his shirt to you and offered, “Could’ve just asked.”

You were right all along. All along, those loose button-up shirts had covered a chiseled body. He must have been curling with arms like that. A pull-up bar on the back of his bedroom door, how many repetitions did it take to get these muscles? Your eyes scanned every inch of him but could find not one flaw. Your lips were moving, but words failed to emerge. There were a million things you wanted to say to him, to tell him, but only one came through. You received his gift gingerly and muttered, “Thanks.”

This was a moment you had distantly fantasized over for years. Turns out, this was even better than you dreamed. His shirt carried a garden of mint, lavender, and tea leaves in its scent. In putting it on, you felt that you gained a glimpse into Eden. The fabric was satin soft and sheer thin. In watching you wear it, Levi felt in the presence of an angel. It highlighted the curves he loved and introduced him to ones he had never noticed before. Brows narrowed, pupils dilated in his gaze - concerned and deviant. The straight cut forced your waist and hips to confine. The small-pattern chest was clearly never meant to accommodate a body like yours. Threads were spread taut by your cleavage, nearly torn apart as they strained to cover you. In his eyes, he thought it fit you perfectly. 

Arms finally through the sleeves. Beneath them, your hairs stood on end. Again, you shivered, but could not pinpoint why. It did not take the shiver, though, to convey your state. Your erect points stood above all. Levi looked to you with both pity and admiration, his voice their lovechild: “Look at you.”

You simmered, embarrassed yet teasing, “Looking isn't helping.” You crossed your arms before your chest and bundled yourself together, “If you really care -”

He did.

“- then do something about it.”

Unfolding the quilt from the foot of the bed, turning up the room’s temperature - those were the most straightforward solutions. But Levi was not thinking straight, and he had a feeling that was what you wanted. Slowly, Levi sifted his arm behind your shoulders, when you snuggled in, he sealed his wrap with a hand at your side. 

“Better?”

“Yeah.”

His gaze descended to meet yours. Likewise, you raised your gaze to meet. Painfully aware that this was a first for the both of you - neither his passion nor your arousal would shut up about it. At the same time, watching you shiver reminded him of all the times he had silently substituted your needs. Behind on work, you never asked for assistance, but would hurriedly throw things his way if Levi offered his help. When your car wouldn’t start that one winter day, who knows how long you would’ve paced in the parking lot had he not pulled his sedan beside yours and given you a jump? A sharp pang seized his heart in realization: he thought you were close, and now you were physically there, yet you still were not comfortable enough to ask him for anything - even though you both wanted it.

“Y’know,” his thumb rubbed your shoulder, “you should learn to just ask for what you want.” 

Indeed, 2 AM haze was shrouding his awareness, too - particularly his self-awareness. Was it not him who steeped your tea in the mornings and tidied your desk before he left each night? He could have - should have - just asked you out all those times. How much sooner would this night have come if he had? Levi swore to live without regrets, but that did not stop him from acknowledging the opportunities he had missed thus far. He tossed you the takeaway he wished he had learned long ago: “Makes things a lot easier.”

At first, you thought he was chastising you. The stern monotone of his voice could chill you to the bone at times, but when you took in his expression, you felt warm all over. His brows were not knit, but perched in a tender lift. His breaths were not terse, like when he got annoyed, but slow and calm. At the same time, though, you could feel his heart pounding hard, could hear it when you placed your ear over his chest. Clouded moonlight softened those hardlined features, and again, you wondered if this was your first night together or actually your honeymoon: wasn’t this kind of pillow talk reserved for spouses alone?

A deep swallow, and the last time you checked yourself. Could he have looked any more genuine? Any more readable? Transparent? You didn’t think so. For the man of few words, this was all but an admission of his feelings for you, and it was the best look you had ever seen on him. His advice, his command, invited you to try that outfit on.

“Practice with me?”

One slight nod, so slight - you knew no one would have noticed it but you. In that, you felt your confidence soar, pulling the words from your heart to the air between you both, “Hold me tighter?”

He did.

“Pull me closer?”

He did.

“And kiss me already.”

Levi could not describe it, the feeling that overcame him when he heard your demand. Proud of you. Relieved. At peace yet exhilarated. The serenity that all was right in the world, yet the anticipation of what he had wanted all along. The nature of the kiss aligned with the latter. For two agonizing seconds, he examined you. Assured by the sight of your smile, he longed to taste it for himself. Thumb pressed to the curve of your chin, index finger perched under it, slowly yet with unwavering passion - that was the way Levi brought your lips together. 

Soft, as he expected. Expert, as you had. Initial contact was delicate, the warmup slow. Levi always went so hard at everything he did, held such a sharp tongue, which was why the way he brushed against you made your heart stop. You knew strength to be his greatest, most innate feature, and therefore you deciphered that this tenderness was a display of exertion. Levi showed no signs of struggle, though. Touch-starved for you, yet his lips chose to waltz rather than tango. His hand on your chin drifted to the back of your neck. Nape cupped in his palm, he used that leverage to drift you here and there, allowing him to taste all of you - encouraging you to do the same with him. 

Levi tasted like peppermint, the brand so sharp that it made you sneeze now and then, he had learned after enough lunch breaks. You tasted like cinnamon, the stick that baristas stuck in his chai come the colder months. When your tongues met, they created a new taste. After minutes of exchange, they became addicted to it. Their craving demanded all efforts in that search: Levi’s grip pulled you closer, you threw an arm over his back. Breaths turned to gasps, a wordless understanding of all you would do for the other: grab his mail on the way in, walk you to your car at night, and kiss until you were out of breath.

The thought had never crossed your mind, but his actions disintegrated it - the possibility that this was some selfish, opportunistic spell. Levi was nearly shaking with anticipation, his erection pained with neglect, but that did not influence his pace. Each time you thought the makeout might end, he would catch his breath with “pretty girl…” before joining you once again. His kiss was lovely, as was the spark at your middle, but his ardor was gas to your flame, and before you knew it, you were ablaze. You found your body rise against his, pushing off the mattress, and rolling to grind against the friction of his rigid figure. Levi was everything you ever wanted, and maybe you were just that desperate or just that greedy - the fact that you needed more. He wouldn’t have you any other way.

You thought twice before breaking from the kiss, one last deep plunge of your tongue to his throat before pulling away, conscious to savor the taste. “Levi…” you sighed.

A string of saliva hung between you, the clean freak calmly closed his fist over it, and you felt yourself shudder again, “can we keep practicing?”

His lips were one degree north of flat, about as big of a smile as anyone would see on Ackerman. Tonight, just the two of you here, it felt inexplicably, particularly special. “Make love to me.”

An advanced learner, you always went the extra mile. Back then, Levi had no doubt, it was the reason you had been promoted so quickly. Now, it was that you had aced the first lesson and jumped to the next: no longer asking, demanding already. Sentimental was not a feeling he knew, but proof that you were this comfortable with him was indeed something. 

His praise reflected that feeling back onto you, “That’s right, good girl.” The back of his hand brushed unruly strands from your face. A kiss on your forehead rewarded, “like that.”

Once more, he pressed his lips to yours, but it was not even a second that he stayed - just a starting point to the journey that was exploring your body. Lips slid to the corner of your mouth, down your jawline, neck, then chest. A trail of hickeys and teeth grazes was left - tomorrow’s meetings and your professionalism having vanished from his mind. His hands joined the excursion: one gentle yet relishing in its caress of your neck, the other crawled up your - his - shirt. The familiar texture of his old garment contrasted with the novel feel of your skin. Muscles twitched with satisfaction, disrupting the fluidity of his motions, but you found beauty in the unpredictability of his touch. Rose-colored lenses were blind to the signs of his weakness, instead chalking those movements up to Levi’s expertise. As you tipped your head back and sighed, Levi figured it was the first misunderstanding that had done you two any good tonight. 

On his descent, he could not help but take a stop at your breasts. Turns out, it was never just his imagination, but given your curvature, of course your buttons would have been stretched to contain you. Those blouses had been his guilty favorite for that very reason, but his tight t-shirt was taking a close second. No, that slip you wore when you joined him in the bathroom, that must’ve been the best, right? Blood rushed, pupils dilated, his body anxious for a visual refresher.

You were going faster than he could have hoped. Already, he was proud of you for having graduated to demands. Now, you had learned to act on your own - either having read his mind or listening to your own desires. Levi could not decide which possibility he preferred, but when you lifted your top and perched it at your clavicle, he was ashamed to admit that his mind had discarded all other affairs. 

Levi nestled his cheek in your cleavage, and though you were over a thousand miles away, he felt he was at home. Warm pillows cupped him, and both of you felt that the space was made for him to fill. Levi’s breath was hot on your skin, yet your nipples appeared as though you were in a winter wilderness. Of course, he took notice in all your details, and sighed in mutual enamor, “Fuck, baby…” 

It was a tone you had never heard in his voice before. Desperation and desire in a man so ever assured and disinterested, you felt your panties drip from damped to soaked. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

You, too, was what you thought to say, but somehow, the word seemed inadequate. His body was artwork: a symmetric abdomen, muscular forearms, veins that stood against his skin, you longed to trace him as such. Bangs that fell perfectly imperfectly over his face, begging that you run your fingers through them: mess with them now, gel them straight in the morning. You could slice paper on that jawline, could get lost in his eyes. No matter how long you stared, and stared you had, Levi was like the sunset: even after a hard day, always breathtakingly gorgeous.

Especially with the perspective you had now. One hand cupped your waist, the other your breast, perching you into his mouth, eye contact deliberately maintained throughout his movements.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Levi’s tongue swirled your nipple before his lips audibly slurped. “To get what you want…” 

Again, the fog of the nameless hours between night and day had blinded him to the relevance his words had to himself. How long had he wanted this? How good did it feel? He had no verbal answer for it, only the fervor of his actions: sprightly tongue and rocks of his hips. As you always had, you filled his gaps: while he could not fathom the words, yours overflowed. 

“Oh, Levi… Fuck, Levi…!” your desperate cries of his name made him leak onto the hotel sheets, no longer pristine. Your harsh exhales ran currents through his hair, and suddenly, it seemed you two had traded temperatures. Now, he was the one shivering while you sweat through the shirt. For his fever, he craved one antidote. Crawling down your body, his approach to the medicine cabinet. He prepared to ask for his dosage.

“My turn.”

Huh? 

You propped yourself up on your elbows and took a good look. A good look: Levi had wedged himself between your legs. Fingers caressed your thighs with a precise pressure, a touch that tickled in a way that made you want more, yet was strong enough that he could push your hips to the mattress and pry your legs apart. You had to bunch your fists and rub your eyes to check, maybe 3 AM was just fucking with you. 

Levi read your search for reassurance and inserted conviction into his tone. His stare and voice unwavering, “Can I taste you?”

Yeah, 3 AM was definitely fucking with you, for this was too good to be true. His sharp chin dwindled above the soft of your sex. His gaze set on your soul. Both of you agreed: his hands had never felt so calloused until they met your smooth thighs. It was a dream you would have woken up thankful to have had bestowed on you, but the grip he had on you was so perpetually undeniable: this was real. Head spinning, mind raced to catch up, yet Levi’s wait was so astonishingly still. Levi knew he would make you feel good. Based on your state, it seemed he was already doing that. Now, you just had to say yes, but he would not push you towards any one answer, nor would he do anything more until you arrived at it. If you wanted it, you had to ask for it, sweetheart.

A flood of thoughts swirled in your mind, each one screaming over the other, you felt you were drowning. In your search for stability, you relied on your sense of sight: Levi Ackerman between your legs. What the fuck are you waiting for? 

“Y’Yes, Levi.” You reached down and held his forehead. As you brushed his bangs from his face, he offered another half-smile, but it was brief, for he was past the point of eager. Still, the calm in his pace remained. Slowly, his hands snaked from the backs of your thighs to the sides of your hips. Thumbs hooked between the straps of your panties and your skin. His fingers clenched over them, bringing the garment past your knees, down your shins, and off your ankles. From chest to toes, you were now entirely exposed. At first, you wrangled with embarrassment, but his infatuation was your comfort. Hunger seized his vision, thirst drove his actions. You had nothing to be afraid of. 

His earlier route, lips to neck, neck to chest, chest to torso, was now mirrored. Levi cupped your heels in his hand and lifted your feet, allowing him to plant kisses up and up your legs, drags of his tongue followed to connect the dots. Minutes gone by, and even after having pocketed your consent, he still had yet to put his mouth there. Spending time to appreciate your thighs, he wanted you to know how long he had been anticipating this, and now that he had finally landed his spot, he would be damn sure to save the best bite for last. 

Left arm wrapped around your thigh, Levi nestled his head against it, allowing his perspective to stay sound on your sex. His right hand trailed from your knee to your middle, and at last, you knew he was getting started. At first, it was his fingertips, and at that mere first touch came your sudden awakening as to how dire your desire had grown. Your hands flew back and clutched your pillow, Levi admired the tendons that rose in your wrist, and your voice, “A’Ahh!!” 

He shot one glance up to check on you, but the look on your face ensured you were more than okay. With that, he decided to repeat the pattern of his rubs. Index and middle finger paired as they rode the sliver between your lips, your arousal slickened his knuckles. Once wet enough, he would split his digits into a V, each one taking responsibility for one of your folds. When that friction ran dry, he would return to your core, a seemingly never-ending source of lubrication, to run the process back again. You should not have been surprised, for everything with him was purposed - in the office or in the bedroom. With your interior and exterior in a coat of your own clear, he would have the freedom to run his mouth, no need to lick his lips or garner more saliva. Years of anticipation, now that the moment had arrived, he was going to spend the extra seconds to make sure this went according to plan.

Your glisten was so thorough, looking at you, Levi swore he could see his own weak reflection, the blush on his cheeks, the sweat on his forehead. In that way, his plunge was accelerated: preferring to trade the sight of his unruly state for the taste of you. Lips circled to match your curves, and you quickly identified this as a familiar feeling in an unfamiliar place. Levi was kissing you with the same tenderness he had displayed in your makeout, only now, he was between your legs. His jaw stretched wide to ensure he could reach every inch, from the top of your cleft, along your crescent sides, and to the spot where they rejoined. With his mouth in control, he let his hands indulge in your body, adorned upon your delectable waist, light squeezes of your ass, and massaging the divots of your inner thighs. His lips practiced that motion with a goal of perfection. Meanwhile, his tongue distracted you from any signs of his learning. Slow, purposed drags from bottom to top made your love pool on the tip of his tongue - each accumulation swallowed with a satisfied groan. Levi’s oral was pristine, only an occasional slurp and smack, allowing both of your vocals to take the stage. Your sky-high gasps, his low and satiated moans. He lived for the moments you would syllabize his name “Le-vi…” His “there you go” always followed, implicitly begging for more.

His neck began to bob in support of his movements. With that came a whole new level of pressure and slate of angles. His sharp nose slanted against your curves, lovely opposite to your soft. Your scent and your taste moved mountains within him, and in that, he noticed: his emotional pull was just as strong as his physical. All his life, he had grown to love bitter tastes, perhaps because they had been force fed to him. You were the first cube of sugar to have landed in his drink. Now, he had honey straight from the source. Levi felt his erection press hard against the mattress, “Fuck…” he whined, “you taste so good.”

Breath caught in your throat, all you could manage was a light sigh. As your lips twitched, he generously helped, taking the words right out of your mouth. “You have no idea…no idea -” Levi moaned, “how fucking long I’ve been waiting for this.”

At those words alone, you felt you might climax right then. Had he been eavesdropping on your dreams? How did he know that you had been fantasizing over that exact sentence for an unspeakable amount of time? “Me - Me too, Levi…” 

Your admission was even sweeter, lifting his feelings from indulgence to fulfillment. All the nights he had spent awake, wondering if you were thinking of him the way he was of you, your confession was confirmation that this had been requited all that time. Levi found it both gratifying and maddening: gratifying to have discovered that your feelings were mutual, maddening how many years had gone by until that discovery. Levi grew determined to make up for all that time, revenge reflected in the acceleration of his actions.

Levi shoved his arms beneath your thighs, lifting you into a shameless, unhideable angle. Good thing, he mused, no more hiding. Shoulders propped at your midthigh, keeping you perched apart. Fingers wrapped around your skin, he pulled you down the bed and crashed you onto his face. Your gasp was exhausted as you tried to keep up. Both of you knew, though: you were no match. As his tongue thrust to unfathomable depths, you likewise could not conjure any idea of how to withstand this. Nose rubbed against your swollen bud, brows narrowed in determination, he looked nearly angry. Working hard for your climax, harder than he had for anything else, even his own. 

Shit…!

If this keeps up…

A telltale tide turned in your tummy, spasms sparkled along your legs. Fingernails pierced the pillowcase, fighting off your impending loss of control. You could not delay it, not unless he - You fisted your hand in his hair, and he thought this was it. Instead, you pushed him away. “L’Le-vi…” a series of rapid pants, “hah, hah, ho’ld… on!” 

His tongue flattened still. Between the vertex of your legs, his steel attention rose to you. Not anxious, but concerned, You alright? 

“I, I want -”

At those words, he once again simmered with pride, thankful you had taken his ask for what you want to heart. After a few more breaths, you managed the minimum composure to plead, “I wanna cum with you.” 

Levi’s first thought was one of generosity, you know you can have - I can give you - more than one, right? But he knew you better, and he knew what you meant. You wanted your first to be with him, and though he was parched with thirst, desperate for the taste of your cum in his mouth, your wants were foremost his. With a deep, patient breath, he watched your twitches slow to still. When the threat of your orgasm vanished, he calmly laid one final kiss to your core, etching your taste into his memory. His silver stare swallowed you down, a mental polaroid of your pose. His palm massaged your sex in physical praise, promising that he would never make you wait again, and that he’d definitely make you cum next time.

He started to ascend back up your body, but you flung yourself forward and met him halfway. Brows arched in shock, his eyes widened briefly, you closed them with another kiss. Mint flavor of before had been washed away by the taste of you. Further evidence of his devotion, you desired to prove that you were just as committed to him. You hooked your elbow to his nape and threaded fingers through his undercut - your turn to pull him here and there, granting yourself the freedom to explore the parts of him that you had always wanted to. Most of all, the length growing harder and harder to ignore. 

Still, you were conscious to withhold your rush. You endeavored to slow your pace so that you could match the one he had performed on you. How good it felt - he deserved to feel it, too. You ran your hands down his chest the way rain slid down a windshield. Levi felt his boxers turn wet when your palms pressed upon his pecs, the buds of your hands kneading his tender patches. His exhales turned crackly, his inhales uneven. Laying kisses on each of his abs, down and down his torso, your contact held the compliments you were too shy to say. He heard them and reciprocated them: arm wrapped around your waist, bruises where his fingertips pressed - he hoped they would stay till morning, and that when you saw them, you would remember the love he had shown you tonight 

Finally, you dipped your fingertips below his waistband. Sweat glazed his hips, allowing you to slide your hands in, but at this point, there was not much room for you. His erection had taken all his threads had to offer. You spared him the begging, sliding his cotton down his outstretched legs and finally releasing him from their confinement. Soaked in his own anticipation, veins visible, his arc steep. The shade of his member matched the one of his cheeks: the pink of a vulnerable blush, the crimson of ardent lust. As he watched you watch him, another dribble of clear dripped down his length. Levi grit his teeth and cursed. From stifling heat to cool air, that drench turned from comforting to exhilarating. In the wake of his tried swears, you gently cupped your hand around his girth and cleaned him as best as you could, spreading the leakage of his tip down to his base - his shaft your path. Contrast to his stress, you soothed him as you always had, just a different context this time. 

It was his turn to cling to the sheets. Hands clawed into the comforter, you watched without shame, enchanted by the way his forearms flexed. Heels ground to the mattress, toes curled in sheets. Each motion was accompanied by either a sharp inhale or short exhale. Was it sadistic or considerate of you to keep pumping him despite that? 

Levi loathed the way he stuttered through your name, on the other hand, you adored it. Levi cupped the back of your head in his hand and tugged your ear to his lips. His breath was hot on your cusp, yet somehow, it sent chills through you. Your sex had landed atop his lap, his cock nestled between your folds, still wet from his prior excursion. Pleasure had him growling, the look in his eyes both commanding and desperate, “Let me take you.”

Obliging and insisting: as one, you leaned back and he pressed forward. Your head landed atop the plump pillow, his hand beside it. Before you could blink, he had plummeted onto your lips again. This kiss was so opposite of all prior: his tongue demanding entrance, grazes of his teeth, and bites of your lip, loud and messy. You had cut Levi Ackerman to his last thread of composure, that was where you had always wanted him.

And this was how he had always wanted you: your most unabashed, honest, purest and filthiest self. He always found it so painfully obvious, how much you strained to stay prim and proper, polite and professional at work. It was why he lived for the times you slipped up: an eye roll in meetings, the long sigh after a conference call. Levi knew that the real you was there, and now you were here: in this shared bed with his shadow cast over your skin. 

There was just one thing, though, that differed from his expectations. Desire was painted on each of your features, but they were glossed in nerves. Twitches in your lip, rattle in your lungs, eyes glistening, he feared they were tears. You cinched your hand around his wrist, and he recognized that smile. It was the kind you donned when you spilled your coffee or showed up late. Adorable, but unassured, and that would not do in this context.

“You’re nervous.” Levi did not ask you, for he knew his intuition was accurate. “Wanna stop?”

You shook your head and insisted vehemently, “No.” With a tilt of your chin and arch of your back, your lips brushed his with each word you spoke. Seeped down his throat, understanding swallowed: “I want to start.”

Levi returned your characteristic smile with one of his own. Tipping your foreheads together, “You’ll let me know if you change your mind.”

An order or a question? Either way, your heart scoffed at the idea. You know how long I’ve been waiting for this? There was no chance in hell you would change your mind.

“Or if it gets too much.”

That, there was a chance of. It had taken him mere minutes between your legs to bring you to the point of screaming and to the brink of climax, but that was what you wanted. His consideration fed you calm, you fed him reassurance. The flicker in your gaze settled, meeting his of solid steel. You tucked his bangs behind his ear and affirmed, “I’m ready, Levi.”

Fronts pressed, heartbeats matching, there was only one connection left to make. By the grips of his hands on the backs of your shoulders, Levi pulled himself those last crucial inches, and closed that final gap. His tip slick with precum, your slit dripping with anticipation, yet accommodating him was no easy fit. He had spent all that time down there with the goal of making it easy on you, but watching your face scrunch and hearing your voice whine was not half bad, either. 

In fact, he had not even made it halfway in yet, and you were already writhing. Levi bit the inside of his cheek and knit his brows, careful not to push you too hard, conscious for signs of your apprehension. You sensed his wavering and clawed his back, pulling yourself further down his length.

Looking up, his expression was strained. Reaching new depths, pushing past your initial walls, his voice poured exertion. Still, he did not stop pushing. Toes arched into the mattress, calves flexed with each labored drive. Each fuck brought the two of you closer. For him, one more inch of his length. For you, one more stretch of pleasure. For the couple, a proximity you had always wanted. Each of you felt a tremendous responsibility to be the one to close that distance.

Repetition after repetition, his muted grunts melted to audible groans. The air between you was no longer saturated by your gasps alone, but his as well. His strain was the only thing that could ground you from nirvana and back down to earth. Despite his squint, he caught that transition: from the throes of sensation to the snap back to reality, all because you were concerned for his well-being. More than any sense of pleasure, your affection was what made his heart pound in his chest. Doe eyes gazed upon him, You okay?

After a series of hahs and ahs, Levi managed just a couple words, “It feels - It feels…”

Good? Bad? Your heart tensed in anticipation. Pleading and ordering, “Tell me, Levi.” 

Knuckles tight, fingers trembling, “...good!” Levi clenched his teeth and pulled himself forward with an aim of backing his words with his actions. After struggling to past your entrance, the force of this fuck brought his tip to your end, drawing shrieks from you and shock from him. Strength of his magnitude had pros and cons, he supposed. His flaws, you deemed them his perfections.

The damp of your cunt was audible, resounding throughout the room. You found yourself at an impossible choice: which was more embarrassing, your voice or your sex? Levi’s thought was similar and opposite, the same choices, just which was better? Levi decided that their symphony was best, and realized he could turn up its volume if he accelerated his pace. 

“Levi, Levi…!” To say his name came naturally, practically a swear word: the satisfaction of cursing after injury or mistake, so wrong yet so right to scream it out loud. 

Pleasurable pain when he hit your weakest points, a delightful exercise as your walls stretched to accommodate him. His eyes remained set on your face, ears tuned to your voice, translating your body language into instructions. Rapid thrusts to make you pant, but only until you started to choke on your own gasps. Then, he would decelerate, replacing speed with strength. When he filled you up, you would sigh and roll your eyes back. To Levi, that was the sign to dial it back up and get you there. 

Since this started, his read on you had been perfectly accurate. You were almost there. Simultaneously yet unknowingly, your inner voices warned: you won’t last much longer. The thing was, you didn’t want to, for you had endured so much already. The heat in your middle was unbearable now. Each nerve had been fried to its last end. This sex had gone on for hours, but your yearning had been years long. In your haze, you were blind towards any reason to deny yourself any longer. You wrapped your legs around his waist and relied on your calves to pull him closer. Bringing him to your end made Levi approach his. “Fuck…!” His voice was a low singsong, an adult lullaby. “(Y/N), (Y/N)...!” No longer a choice between deep or fast, Levi somehow managed both. Physiology threatened to overrule now. No, already…!

“(Y/N), I…I’m - ! ” His mind was racing now. Should he ask to cum or tell you he was? Should he withdraw so that you could get there first? Levi labored to open his eyes, looking to you for an answer. His senses of sight and touch told him: you were already there.

The pulsation around his cock, the steep arch of your spine, your parted lips and blissed-out face. The scrape of your nails down his back, ignorant to the possibility of hurting him. This was how Levi had always wanted it: to be the one you clung to, to offer himself when you were overwhelmed. Count on me. The orgasm that overwhelmed you now, that had been his doing, right?

Once again, it was as if you had read his mind. Without him having to ask, you answered: “Levi, Levi!!” Your hands squeezed him tight, white patches beneath your fingertips. Clinging to him, the life raft through each of your waves. “Y’Yours… I’m yours…” 

He had gifted you tissues for your crying spells at work, had picked up your lunch on the way back from break, but this provision was far preferable, much more fulfilling. Even as you turned his skin red, even as your legs clenched him and squeezed air from his lungs - no, even better - those were precisely the motions that pushed him over the edge. 

One hand clutched the top of the headboard, tight enough that you heard the wood wince. The other caressed your face with feathered tenderness. In that difference, you were once again reminded of his duality: on one hand, a hardass, but for you, a soft spot. Those dimensions were reflected in his voice, too: swears that made your ears burn and groans that turned the air heavy, yet arid gasps that lifted your soul and praise fit for a princess. While your cunt had run raw and slippery from his fucking, his warm cum filled you and soothed your stings. 

As you both came to, Levi lingered inside, patiently waiting until each of your waves crashed - savoring them. With a deep swallow and a delicate nod, he ensured he would handle your aftercare. Kleenex from the nightstand folded and padded against your sex. You sat up in panic, worried about the clean freak’s reaction, but he seemed particularly satisfied. Maybe it wasn’t that he hated filth, but that he loved clean-up. You bit your lip and bit back a smile, believing that the sex tonight had evidenced that.

Though his aftercare was doing much for your affection, it did pathetically little when it came to cleanliness. Both of you realized, not even the entire box would be enough. Levi looked at the wad of tissues in his hand, shook his head, and scowled, nearly laughing at the ineffectiveness. “We’re filthy.” 

Slowly, you made your way to his side. Carefully, you reached your arms around his back. Wrapped within your grasp, you leaned him back against your chest and whispered into his ear, “Good thing there’s a shower.”

Levi spun just enough to meet your eye contact, once again checking to see if he had heard you right. Three hours ago, he would have defaulted towards the no, always having believed one could not be let down if they did not get their hopes up. Over the years and especially tonight, your optimism was swaying that opinion. Your sound smile and unafraid stare confirmed: after all that mess, you were also keen for cleanliness. In post-coital clarity, he saw how stupid he had been to wait this long, and Levi almost said those three sacred words right then and there. 

But this was only the first night of the trip.

And the first day of the rest of your lives.

// masterlist //

[daddyfordaeddy]

Pairing: Yunho x f! Reader

Genre: Smut, very very light angst, established relationship, E for explicit

Warnings: Mentions of drinking/being inebriated, peer pressure, jealousy, smut warnings under cut

Word count: 1111

Smut warnings: Oral (f receiving), somnophilia (consensual, discussed beforehand but not shown), fingering (f receiving), cunnilingus, dom/sub (yunho dom yn sub)

This is for the jealousy collab with @flurrys-creativity (green-eyed, misguided), @sanjoongie (pink with jealousy, speak up), and @mingsolo (enough, before you go)!! Tis the first of two hehe i hope u like! The Jongho one will just be hurt/comfort, posted on @daemour ♡

-

You swear you didn't mean to. It's not often you go out with friends, and your FOMO was going strong after missing out on so many planned club dates. But you did try to say no, honest you did. Having someone write on your tits while you're drunk is not a fun time, and you made sure to chew out your so-called friends for letting that happen to you. But it doesn't mean you don't still dread facing your boyfriend.

Yunho, with so much patience for you, understanding, and love he has for you, sent you twenty texts and three calls after your friends posted your shame on Instagram. You told him it wasn't your idea, that you were coming home after sleeping off your drunkenness, and you know deep down he isn't truly mad at you. But it doesn't mean you'll get off scot-free.

He's been trying to get you to stand up for yourself more, and this counts as a huge setback in his book. You know you're in for some trouble when you finally reach your shared apartment door as the sun is rising.

Carefully, you creak open the door to see Yunho sitting on the couch, a barely-buttoned blue sleepshirt and black frames perched on his nose. His eyes are shut and you let out a slow, quiet breath at the sight of your boyfriend napping on the couch. You know you deserve whatever upset he directs at you, but it's nice to get a moment of peace after a long night of arguing with friends and trying to find your way back by yourself.

You set your back on the ground softly before heading to the shower to get the smell of weed and alcohol off your body. As you slip into pyjamas, you can hear the soft pad of feet on the hardwood floor, and you know that Yunho has woken up. Before you can turn around and apologise, you feel his slender arm wrap around your waist and pull you into his side. "Hey, baby," he whispers, pressing his face into your neck and pressing a soft kiss there. "We'll talk more in the morning. Let's go to bed first. And then we’ll find you new friends."

Happy for the break before the unavoidable conversation, you nod in agreement and let him lead you to the bed, settling down and turning to cuddle into Yunho's warm chest, letting your eyes flutter shut.

The last thing you feel before falling asleep is his lips on your forehead.

-

When Yunho wakes up, he stares at your small, sleeping form curled up by his side. The sight of you is so sweet he almost forgets his annoyance, but after you sigh in your sleep and turn over, one of your shirt's buttons pops open and he can see a hint of marker that you couldn't scrub off last night on your plush chest. Heat blazes in his heart again and he tsks, shaking his head and sitting up properly and undoing your shirt completely to look over his boobs.

How dare your friends pressure you into that? Yunho grits his teeth for a long moment before leaning down to lave his tongue over the flesh of your breast, kissing your nipple. You moan quietly and turn a bit in your sleep, but you do not wake and Yunho raises an eyebrow.

The two of you had talked about this, and both of you agreed to allow each other to play with the other when asleep as long as there’s no coitus occurring. The idea of waking you up to his mouth on your cunt burns in his mind until he makes up his mind and slides down the bed until he’s almost level with your legs, the only thing covering them is the almost-sheer shorts.

As Yunho’s breath ghosts over your thighs, he pushes your shorts to the side, not even bothering to take them off as his eyes train in on your pussy. Carefully, slowly, Yunho presses his long fingers against your cunt, sighing low in his throat as your velvety folds part and his fingers kiss your hole. Your legs twitch but a snore escapes you and Yunho chuckles before pressing his lips to your clit.

You’re soft and warm, and Yunho can’t help but press the flat of his tongue against your clit until you let out a soft moan. His eyes flick upwards but you’re still asleep. But waiting has become boring now, not when the sting of your activities last night still pinch his heart.

He pushes his fingers in your hole, feeling your slick gather on his fingers and he sucks your folds between his teeth, groaning at the sweet-salty taste of you on his tongue. Without further ado, he pulls his fingers out and then pushes them back in, curling them just right to your sweet spot and then–

Fingers fly down and grip his hair as you finally awaken, a loud moan slipping out your mouth as your thighs clench. “Yunho–” you gasp, but Yunho can’t bring himself to look up, focusing on swirling his tongue around your clit so well that your thighs shake and he can feel you dripping out around his hand. “Shit–”

You’re close already, Yunho thinks, and gives you one harsh suck as well as twisting his fingers so perfectly. There’s a sharp tug to his hair and Yunho lets you pull his head up as you come, cunt clenching so hard around his fingers as you come, moaning loud with your head thrown back.

“Morning,” Yunho rumbles low in his throat, his teeth glinting in the sunlight. “Have a pleasant night?”

Your face is flushed and Yunho thinks if he leans in, he could probably feel the heat radiating off your skin. “I– it was okay,” you squeak out, and Yunho shakes his head.

“Try again. Was it a nice night? Did you like it when another man touched your chest?” He punctuates his question with his fingers pumping once in and out of you and you lick your lips and moan softly.

“N-no,” you fix your mistake. “My chest is yours only.”

Yunho nods, pleased. “That’s right, baby. Let’s see…he signed your chest with eight letters? Let’s make that eight orgasms okay? Can you do that for me?”

He’s giving you an out, but you find that perhaps you don’t want that out, because you nod eagerly. “Yes– God, yes.”

“Good girl.” He twists his fingers again, and your hands scramble to grip the bedsheets. Yunho smiles down at you, reminiscent of a predator stalking his prey. “Remember, you’re only for me.”