#everything spine of steel was missing

[looseleafteeaves]

Back on my Blue Beetle bullcrap...

Hahahahaha..... Reach code was not enough... Khaji Da has some basic phrases and words to use from Kharana(my reach language)... Feel free to use any of it! Sneak Peak/Snippet from "Desperate Measures":

Khaji’s panic flooded the scarab. There was no escape from Reach here. So the SC4R48 flared with power from the star heart that Reach had stolen and placed inside Khaji-da -efek-ney-del-tey*. Within that panic, Khaji Da breathed. Vos’jorak** they reminded themselves. Torathar ek yolkhan nek vorikhan.***

*Khaji da's serial number, infiltrator-8-500-90-4-10

**embrace stillness

***Cross the abyss with undaunted determination

[peachesofteal]

Ghoap x female reader / 18+

Everything was fine.

Your phone was quiet, but that didn’t mean anything. You would wait. You’ve waited before.

Sometimes it took a while for them to ring. They had a life together, a home, things to take care of. They had lives to rebuild every time they touched down, got home, got out of their work clothes. Pieces to patch, blood to wash clean.

You weren’t their girlfriend. They aren’t beholden to you, there’s no sacred vow tethering the three of you, no promises or pledges. You don’t know Johnny’s middle name, or Simon’s, anything about their families, their private lives. You barely knew about their jobs, only holding the scraps tossed to questions lobbed back and forth across pillows. They leave little marks across your mind, little spots of scars, knowledge scratched into your skin, sunk into your body, but never too much.

You weren’t a part of their life, really.

You were a part of the dark hours. The soft ones. You were in the orange rays of sunlight cresting over the city, and the emerald abyss of pitch black night. You were the flickering yellow street light, the grey blue smoke of Simon’s cigarette. The in between. Here in the moment, gone with morning.

For months, you had spent their time home pressed between them, folded beneath them, balanced above them. They made you sing. Made you scream, made you cry.

But most of all, they made sure-

you understood the status quo.

“Say it.” Simon cradled your jaw, thumb and finger full of steel, like he was oblivious to Johnny beneath you, his cock sliding in and out of your body, his fingers dug into the flesh of your hips, your back to his chest, eyes wide and mouth agape, Simon did not flinch.

“I- I’m not-“ a gasp, a groan, words bitten off when Johnny strokes faster, curved deep against the spot that makes you see stars. Sweat builds across your skin, slicking down your spine, and Johnny chases it, tongue sweeping salt clean. You swallow to try again. “I’m not- not yours.”

“Not ours.” Simon’s fingers wrapped around the engorged length of his cock, stroking leisurely, eyes half lidded. “You’re not ours, sweet girl. But we’ll take care of you, when you’re here.”

So, you fell into it. Fell into them. Got comfortable waiting for the phone to ring, going weeks or months at a time- holding your breath. You got into a rhythm, syncopated behind the swell of their voices, their bodies, their souls. Along for the ride. A passenger.

It was fine. You weren’t looking for anything serious anyway. Maybe someone to hang out with here and there, grab a drink, have some fun. All of these things, they gave you. All of these things were provided. Granted, you only went out with them to a dive around the corner, a dark, bottomless place with tar licked floors and worn away wooden bar. The kind with dusty stained glass pendants swinging over pool tables that have seen better days, wrought iron back patio furniture that squeaked when Simon would pull you onto his lap and hook the hem of your panties to the side to stare at your pussy, hungry and desperate glint in his gaze under the silver glow of moonlight. He’d flip up your dress and stroke you with the back of his knuckles, just the down the seam, cooing, telling you how lovely you look, asking how much you missed them.

They never took you out for meals, or dates, or anything like that. They kept you in bed, buried beneath them, wrung out, drained dry. They took and took and took until you had nothing left to give. They’d feed you, make you come, fill you up and put you to sleep. Rinse and repeat.

And it was all… fine.

Even tonight was fine. Johnny had emailed, said they were back in service range and they’d be around soon, if you weren’t busy. Typically, a phone call came later. Late, in small hours, when half the city slept.

So when you fell asleep to nothing, you weren’t surprised. They’d catch up with you.

They always did.

You didn’t hear from them the next day. You forced it away easily, didn’t let the unease nag at you, pasted a smile on your face for your friends when you agreed to meet them for dinner.

No strings. You’re not their girlfriend, you’re not theirs. You’re cool. It’s cool. You’re fine.

Besides, your friend had gotten a reservation at a very nice restaurant in one of those shiny new hotels that just went up.

You shoved the boys from your mind.

You were the cool girl. You were unaffected.

You’re fine.

“So how’s work?”

“Oh, it’s fine. You know, same shit different day.” You roll your eyes, touch light on the thin stem of a wine glass. The red is a shade darker than your nails, and your lips, and it tastes like sweet cherries soaked in acid. Stringent. Sweet. You’re about to reciprocate the question when the bulk of a man catches your eye, handsome width of a shoulder you’d know from a mile away.

Interest in your friend’s conversation evaporates, and your tongue turns tarnished, sticking in the back of your throat like an overgrown thorn.

It’s Simon. Your heart pounds, and you drink in the sight greedily, elated to see him outside of their flat, or in the bar. Thrilled to get a glimpse of him in the real world, in a restaurant, a real, tangible place, in a real, tangible moment.

“I’ll… be right back.” You manage, slipping from the both to the wall, openly gaping across a room full of diners. As he moves, you mirror it, coming closer and closer to a hallway, a lead off down to the bathrooms.

“Simon.” His name slips from your lips without permission, a build up of excitement and anxiety, all twisted into one heap that darts out in front of your intentions, your resolve. Not cool.

You expect him to be surprised, certainly. You expect to see that small spark, the little fire burning behind his irises, expect him sweep the length of your body.

You don’t expect the surprise to be blanketed with the white fog of indifference. The grey slab of a stone wall.

It confuses you. Startles you. And when you take a step-

Johnny turns the corner, an arm slung around the waist of a pretty, thin, blonde.

His lips part, brows knitting together in slow motion. The girl, their date, it seems, is oblivious. She only bats her eyelashes at Simon and then gazes up at Johnny, sweet and hopeful.

You turn cold. Your fingers go frigid, ice cracking through your veins and attacking your heart, slowing your pulse.

The room spins.

And you’re alone in it. Dining room chatter falls away, drowned out by the thrumming between your ears.

You’re alone. Alone, staring at them, trying to piece it all together, trying to breathe, trying to be-

Cool.

“I uh…” You teeter, precarious in your shoes that now feel like a mistake, like your dress is a mistake, being here is a mistake, getting up from the table-

You’re not their girlfriend. You’re not theirs.

“I’m just gonna… go.” You begin to backpedal. Johnny says your name, says it quietly, and takes a step, lurching forward, an animated corpse seeking its last meal.

“Bonnie, ye-“

“I’ll see you around.” You blurt, stepping back out of reach. Johnny’s fist clenches, and he casts a dubious glance towards Simon, who’s tense and focused on you. “See ya.” You croak, and then spin on your heel, trembling all the way out the door and into the cold, crisp air.

Very uncool.

[ketaundkrawall]

Licky ☽｡⋆ Joost Klein

Summary: Joost knows you reposted that edit.

Warnings: smut, unprotected piv (wrap it before you tap it), female masturbation, voyeurism (blink and you’ll miss it), sub!reader, fluffy ending, cuddles with Joost okay I need that 🥺, no use of Y/N, afab!reader

WC: 1.3k

A/N: so here it is, my second fic 🥹 hope you guys like it lmao. Also this man and THIS FUCKING EDIT have a chokehold on me 👹 Also I will probably do a part two of Keta und Krawall :p

18+ under the cut!

Sundays at home were the best. And they were even better when your boyfriend was at home and not somewhere out on tour.

Joosts head was resting on your chest, his arms wrapped tightly around your torso as you listened to his slow, steady breathing.

It was still very early, the sounds of birds chirping outside and the soft tapping of the rain against the window had a calming effect on you.

Giving up on sleep, you turn to grab your phone and open TikTok. Turning the volume down, so you wouldn’t wake your sleeping boyfriend, you start to scroll through your For-You-Page.

Liking some trends people were doing and watching tons of those little John videos with his galvanized steel wood veneers, you soon got bored.

Just as you scrolled again, you thought it was just a simple edit of some actor you liked, your eyes widened.

That wasn’t some actor. It was your boyfriend who was flashing before your eyes on your phone screen. And he looked absolutely stunning.

Biting your lip softly you clicked the little save button in the corner before watching the edit a few times more.

Joost was stirring on your chest slightly, opening his eyes slowly. As he looked up at you they were still heavy with sleep.

A soft sigh escaped your lips. “Didn’t mean to wake you sorry.”

Shaking his head he softly looked up at you. “You didn’t m’en meisje (My girl).”

The nickname made you smile. You loved when he talked Dutch.

“Good.” Leaning forward you pressed a soft kiss against his lips. “Let’s take a shower.”

Getting out of bed you watched him stretch and pulling the covers off himself. He was only wearing some boxers to bed and they didn’t leave much to the imagination.

“Wanna take a picture?” He grinned as he got up. Snapping out of your daydream you rolled your eyes. “I don’t need a picture. Having you home is enough for me right now.” A soft smile played around your lips as you wrapped your arms around his middle looking up.

His arms wrapped around you, finding the small of your back and pulling you slightly closer into a loving hug. “Ik hou van jou (I love you).” He whispered in your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

Being with him for quite some time now, you understood some Dutch. Not everything, you still needed some help and practice. But hearing that sentence almost everyday, you knew what he said.

“I love you too.”

He pressed a kiss to your temple before pulling away. Taking your hand he pulled you into the bathroom, closing the door behind you.

Few moments later both of you were naked and standing under warm flow of the water. A few kisses were shared every now and then.

You were just so happy Joost was home again.

Later that day, Joost was running some errands, you cuddled up onto the couch and opened TikTok again. That fucking edit didn’t leave your head the whole day. Clicking on your saved videos you clicked on the one you saved.

Groaning you closed your phone and covered your face with your hands. Starring at the ceiling for what felt like hours your hand slowly found its way down your body.

You could already feel yourself getting wet.

Soon enough your fingers brushed over your already soaked panties. The thought of Joost touching you made you moan softly as you pushed the fabric out of the way.

Imagining it were his fingers circling your clit you arched into your touch, your other hand finding your throat, squeezing it softly.

Being so lost in your own pleasure you didn’t notice the door open.

Leaning against the wall Joost watched your fingers pump in and out of your pretty little pussy, grinning to himself. His jeans instantly tightening.

“Enjoying yourself I see?”

You insanely froze in your position on the couch, eyes widening in shock as you looked into your boyfriend’s blue eyes which were clouded with lust.

“I-“ Your throat suddenly felt very dry.

Closing your legs you were quick to get up. As you tried to walk past him he held you back by your arm.

Leaning down he kissed just right under your ear. “I want you to get naked and wait for me on the bed, got it?”

A gulp and a nod. “J-ja (Yes).”

You had no idea what would happen next but you did as you were told. Walking into your shared bedroom you were quick to take off all your clothes. Sitting on the edge, you waited for Joost.

After 5 minutes or so he finally walked in, eyeing your naked figure up and down. “Schitterend (Stunning).” He mumbled.

Blushing you looked down at your hands. As you heard his belt snapping open you looked up again and there he stood butt naked and absolutely ravishing.

“Open your mouth.” He whispered and grabbed your jaw softly. “Wanna feel your pretty lips around me.”

With a desperate whine you did as you were told. Holding your head in place Joost softly pushed himself in the wet and waiting warmth of your mouth, groaning in the process. “Fuck that’s my good girl. Making me feel so good.”

You could basically feel your pussy dripping with need at his words. Looking up at him through your lashes you wrapped one hand around his shaft and started to bop your head up and down his length, working the rest that didn’t fit with your hand.

Eyes watering your gaze met his. He softly pulled you off his hard dick. “Lay on your back. Need to fuck that pussy now.”

“Fuck yes please I need you so bad!” You whined as you laid down. In no time he was on top of you, teasing your entrance with his tip.

Wrapping your arms around his neck you looked deeply into his eyes. “Ik hou van jou (I love you).” You whispered and brushed some hair out of his eyes.

Leaning down he captured your lips into a sweet and passionate kiss before pushing himself all the way inside you, making you moan into the kiss.

Pulling away, Joost started to kiss down your jaw while fucking inside of you. His hands found your breast, pinching your pebbled nipples and making you arch more into his touch.

Grinning against your skin his hand wandered further down your body, rubbing right circles on your swollen clit.

“Look at mijn mooi meisje (My beautiful girl).” Joost whispered. “So good for me. So close.”

Your foggy mind couldn’t really comprehend what he just said so you just nodded, a soft “close” coming across your lips.

Your boyfriend gave you a cheeky grin. “Cum mijn hart (my heart).”

That’s was all it took for you to come undone unter him. Squeezing his cock tight, as your slick coated it.

His thrusts got slower as his hips stuttered. “Fuck, here it comes.” He said releasing everything he had, painting your walls with his cum.

A warmth spread across through your abdomen, making you shiver.

Giving you another kiss he pulled out of you, making you whimper at the loss of contact.

Laying down beside you he pulled the covers over you, pulling you into his side.

“That was amazing.” You said and looked up at him. “I missed you.”

Joost smiled down at you. “I missed you too.”

Pressing a small kiss to his chest, he takes your left hand in his, playing with your fingers.

“Jij bent de liefde van mijn leven.”

Your head turned to look at him. “What does that mean?”

Kissing the tips of your fingers Joost gaze softened. “It means you are the love of my life.”

“Really?” Your cheeks flushed. He gave you a nod.

“Oh and you reposted that video by the way. I saw it on TikTok.”

-

A/N: thanks again for reading to the end :p also my requests are open so pls don’t hold yourself back ✨

[dunebrat]

PAST LOVERS ୨♡୧

Feyd Rautha x reader

Summary : you return to his planet years later to lay your mother to rest, only to find Feyd, once a boy now a man. You struggle to reconcile the memories of the boy you once loved and he is determined to take you back as his.

────────────────────────

As you step off the shuttle onto the dusty surface of Arrakis, memories flood back of your time here, memories filled with warmth and pain, all centered around him, Feyd Rautha. The boy you once knew, the one who captured your heart among the harsh sands of this his planet. Years have passed since you last saw him, since you made the painful decision to leave, to escape. Back then, he was just a boy but he was your first everything, love, kiss he even took your virginity but your family left Arrakis in search of a better life, a life free from the constant danger. As a child, you witnessed firsthand the brutality of life under the rule of the Harkonnens, the constant struggle for survival in their environment.

But it was more than just the oppressive regime that drove your family away. It was the violence. Despite their best efforts to carve out a life for themselves, they knew that staying meant risking everything they held dear. So when the opportunity arose to leave, to seek refuge on a distant planet far from the reach of the Harkonnens, they seized it without hesitation. It was a chance for a new beginning, a chance to leave behind the pain and suffering of their past and start afresh. And though it meant leaving behind everything you knew, everything you loved, you knew deep down that it was the right decision. For the safety and well-being of your family, you were willing to leave behind the only home you'd ever known, to venture into the unknown in search of a better future. But now here you are 7 years later back at your birth place to lay your mother to rest on her planet. She had fell sick a year ago sadly. Grief weighed heavy on your heart, with the bittersweet memories of your childhood on the desert planet.

But as you watch him now, standing tall and commanding, the years have transformed him into a man. His features are chiseled, he’s way taller now, and his aura is so dark. It's both intimidating and mesmerizing. You can't help but notice the change in him, how the years of training under his uncle has hardened him, turned him into someone you barely recognize. Gone is the carefree boy who you thought once loved you. In his place stands a man who is cold and distant. It was as if with each passing day, his uncle's influence seeped deeper into his soul, twisting him into someone unrecognizable.

Yet despite the bitterness that lingers in you, there's still a spark, a connection that refuses to die. As your eyes meet his across the crowded room, you were determined to ignore him, to shut out the memories of your past together and focus on the task at hand. Every time you felt his eyes on you, you forced yourself to look away, to steel yourself against the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. But you couldn't afford to dwell on the past, not when there were more pressing matters to attend to.

And as the days passed, you couldn't shake the feeling that he was watching you. Then, one evening, as you found yourself alone in the dimly lit corridors of the palace, his voice cut through the silence like a knife, sending a shiver down your spine. "I've been looking for you," he said, his tone low and husky.

You turned to face him, your heart pounding in your chest as you met his gaze. There was a hunger in his eyes, a fierce intensity that sent a thrill of anticipation coursing through your veins. You couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement at the sound of his voice after so long apart.

"Feyd," you breathed, your heart pounding in anticipation. He stepped closer to you, his eyes dark and intense as he studied your face. "I've missed you" His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn't help but feel the familiar pull of attraction. He leaned in close to whisper into your ear "I want you."

Seeing him so close you can see he had grown into his features. His body now more muscular and defined than before. He ran his hands down your back as you leaned in to kiss him passionately on the lips.

"No," you said firmly, stepping back to put some distance between you. "This... this isn't right." His expression darkened, a flicker of frustration crossing his features. "What do you mean?" he demanded, his voice tinged with anger.

"I mean," you replied, your voice trembling with emotion, "that I can't just forget everything that's happened between us. I can't pretend like nothing has changed." you say, your voice trembling. He stops in front of you, his eyes burning into yours. You can feel the heat radiating off him, the power and strength that he exudes.

It's almost overwhelming. His eyes darken

"After all the mercy I’ve shown you and your family" he growled

"What do you mean" you squinted confused

"When you left me, I could’ve had you’re whole family killed and you returned to me. But I knew somehow or something would bring you back" He reaches out, his hand wrapping around your throat in an instant. You gasp, the air being cut off from your lungs. He leans in close to you, his breath hot on your face as he whispers into your ear, "You're mine."

You can feel his grip tighten around your throat, cutting off the air to your lungs. You try to gasp for breath but it's no use as he holds you in place with a firm hand on your neck. You can feel your body starting to tremble as the lack of oxygen starts to take its toll. Your vision begins to blur and you start to see spots in front of your eyes, but still he holds on tight.

He lets go and you fall on the ground gasping for air

"He grabs your arm and pulls you up to a standing position, his eyes dark with desire." I'm going to have my way with you again and again until you learn that I own you now" You can feel his hot breath on your neck as he leans in close, and you know what's coming next. He bites down on your neck, his teeth sinking into the flesh. You cry out in pain and pleasure as he sucks hard at the wound, leaving a mark that will be there for days to come.

"I couldn't help but notice," he said, his voice barely a whisper, "how much you've grown, how... how beautiful you've become." his eyes trailing over your body with an intensity

His words caught you off guard, he sounded more calm. "I've missed you," he said softly, his voice laced with longing. "I've missed us. And I'm not willing to let you slip away again."He reaches down and grabs your hips, lifting you up off the ground. You can feel his cock pressing against your entrance as he positions himself to enter you from behind. He thrusts into you, his cock filling you up in one swift motion. You cry out as he starts to fuck you hard and fast, pounding away at your pussy with a fervor that's almost animalistic.

You can feel his cock hitting your cervix with each thrust, and you know that he's going to make you cum hard. He reaches around and grabs your tits, squeezing them hard as he continues to fuck you.

"I want you to have my child". You look up at him with wide eyes, your mouth still full of his cum. He grins down at you," You, little one. Are mine forever and ever."

He’d been thinking about breeding you the second he saw

Defeated you whispered "Im yours, Take me however you want to take me."Just please don't hurt my baby if we make one together" He grins down at you again.

"ll be gentle with you, little one." "I promise."

Taglist ⭐️

@aaaaaamond

@meetmeatyourworst

@mamawiggers1980

@wo-ming-bai

@szapizzapanda

@avidreader73

@moonsoulk

@lokiofasgard12

@scarl3tt-000

@kristel1990

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@18lkpeters

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[solxamber]

If you haven’t gotten this already, maybe a part 2 to Idia x sentient npc reader?

Maybe they somehow find themselves in twst? Maybe isekai style (I’m stuck on you villainess fics lol)? Or if you had other ideas that’s totally fine too. (I’m not used to requesting 😭)

I really like your stuff so honestly I wanna give you as much creative freedom. Or if you feel like that fic is over/you don’t have inspo for it anymore that’s understandable too 😊

Keep up the amazing work!! 💖💖

Idia Shroud x Sentient NPC Part 2

Part 1 : here

Thank you for the request, and I'm glad you like my isekai fics <3

The moment you blink into existence in Twisted Wonderland, you’re not sure if this is real life or another game glitch. One minute you were comfortably breaking the fourth wall and wooing a gamer, and the next? You’re standing in front of an overgrown haunted house with a big “Night Raven College” sign. And a certain blue-haired, fire-topped guy is gaping at you like you’ve just sprouted another head.

“W-WAIT,” Idia stammers, eyes wide behind his tablet as he stares at you. “This—This isn’t happening. There’s no way. Did I… did I actually summon an NPC?!”

You take one look at him—tousled hair, dark circles under his eyes, and the way his fingers hover over his tablet like it’s some sort of lifeline—and a grin tugs at your lips. Oh, this is gonna be good.

“Well, well, well,” you say, casually strolling over to him. “If it isn’t my favorite player. Miss me?”

Idia makes a noise somewhere between a squeak and a strangled gasp, his whole body freezing up. “Y-You—! You’re here! How are you here?! Did I—is this some cursed DLC? Am I in a nightmare? Oh my god, is this another event?!”

You lean in, narrowing your eyes playfully. “Nightmare? Babe, I thought you were happy to see me.”

Idia’s face flushes a deep red, and he yanks his hoodie up over his head, mumbling something incoherent into the fabric. “H-Happy? Who said anything about happy?! I didn’t sign up for a ‘real-life NPC invading my world’ edition!”

You raise an eyebrow. “Oh? You weren’t just thinking about how much you’d like me if I were in the real world?”

He stiffens so hard it’s like his entire spine turned into a steel rod. “HOW DID YOU—NO. I didn’t—this isn’t—this is a glitch, it has to be! Or a fever dream. Or maybe I finally lost it after all those sleepless nights grinding for rare drops—"

"You're cute when you ramble," you interrupt with a smirk, enjoying watching him implode. "So, are you going to show me around this place, or should I just assume you’re too flustered to handle me?"

Idia stares at you like you’ve grown two extra heads. “Y-You’re just… okay with this? You’re literally… in a different dimension, and you’re fine?!”

You shrug. “Eh, it’s a step up from my last gig. Besides,” you add, leaning in closer, “I kinda like having you as my guide.”

His brain short-circuits for a full ten seconds. “G-GUIDE?! L-Like an actual dating sim?! Do you think this is a game?!”

You pause dramatically. “Isn’t everything a game?”

There’s an audible groan from behind you, and you turn to find Grim, your new furry audience member, smacking his face with his paw. “Great, just what we needed—another weirdo.”

Idia, still staring at you like you’re some kind of unholy glitch in his life’s code, manages to stammer out, “I—I can’t believe this is real. There’s no way this is real.”

You smirk. “It’s real, all right. And don’t pretend you’re not thrilled. I can practically hear your heart racing.”

His face flushes even deeper, and he clutches his tablet like it’s his last connection to sanity. “Okay, okay. You’re in Twisted Wonderland, fine. But this doesn’t mean you get to start… start messing with the plot!”

You grin. “Who says I’m here to follow the plot?”

Idia lets out a strangled noise, burying his face deeper in his hoodie. “This… this is too much. I’m not ready for this level of immersion. This is like, hardcore VR, but real! And with you here, it’s… it’s… OH MY GOD, WHAT DO I DO?!”

You put a hand on his shoulder, forcing him to look at you. “Easy. You play the game, Idia. And let me show you how fun it can get when I’m the one writing the script.”

The look of sheer panic—and excitement—on his face is priceless. "Y-You're serious?!" he squeaks, not sure whether to pass out or burst into flames from sheer embarrassment. "But, like—what if this is a permanent event?! What if I never—"

"Oh, relax," you say, poking his chest lightly. "I'll make sure we both enjoy this little 'quest.'"

There’s another groan from Grim, but you ignore him, keeping your eyes locked on the flustered mess in front of you. Idia’s practically a puddle at this point, cheeks redder than Riddle’s roses, but you know he’s loving every second of it.

“Okay,” he mutters, glancing between you and his tablet. “Okay, I can work with this. Maybe it’s not a total catastrophe. I mean, you’re here, so—wait, does that mean you’re, like… my NPC now?”

You flash him a rogue grin. “If that’s what you want, I’m all yours.”

Idia blinks. Then, with the kind of realization that only a true gamer would have, he straightens up slightly. “I-Is this… the ultimate secret route?!”

"Could be," you say, leaning in closer. "You think you can handle it?"

He stares at you, wide-eyed and flustered beyond belief, but finally, he nods—though it's more of a nervous twitch than anything. "Y-Yeah. Yeah, I-I can handle it. This is fine. Totally fine. Just… don’t, uh, don’t go rogue too much? I-I don’t think I can survive if you start rewriting my entire life!”

You laugh. “No promises, player.”

The panic in his eyes is real, but so is the smile slowly creeping onto his face. And as you stand there, facing him in this strange new world, you realize you’re both about to have a lot of fun.

"Welcome to the real game," you whisper, before pulling him into a kiss.

Idia promptly drops his tablet.

Masterlist

[lobotomisa]

Soul Ties [ y. okkotsu x gn. reader ]

♡ྀིྀི⋆.˚ PAIRING: [Yandere] Yuta Okkotsu / Gender Neutral Reader

♡ྀིྀི⋆.˚ SYNOPSIS: Yuta wasn't the same after returning from Africa. What was going to be a little talk about boundaries changed into a lover's quarrel turned fatal.

♡ྀིྀི⋆.˚ NOTES: SFW?

The apartment felt different with Yuta back in it. It had been months since he'd returned from Africa, months since he'd been sent away on a mission that was supposed to last only a few weeks. You had missed him fiercely, ached for his presence in a way that surprised even you. And yet, the moment he walked through the door, something had felt… wrong.

At first, it was in the little things: the way he held you too tightly, his arms wrapping around you like a vice; the way his gaze lingered on you with a burning intensity, as if he were memorizing every detail, afraid that if he blinked, you would disappear. The way he asked endless questions—where had you gone, who had you seen, what had you done without him? It felt less like concern and more like interrogation.

"Yuta, it's okay," you had laughed, trying to ease the tension. "I'm not going anywhere."

But he hadn't laughed. His expression had been serious, almost haunted. "I can't lose you," he'd whispered. "Not again."

Now, standing in the kitchen, you felt the weight of his stare on your back as you tried to prepare dinner. Your hands trembled slightly as you chopped the vegetables, the knife slipping more than once. You could feel his eyes on you, a heavy, unblinking presence that made your skin prickle.

"Yuta," you said softly, turning to face him. "We need to talk."

He looked up from the table, where he'd been sitting with his hands folded, his dark hair falling over his eyes. "About what?" His voice was quiet, but there was an edge to it, a note of tension that hadn't been there before.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. "About us. About how things have been since you came back."

His eyes narrowed slightly, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of something—fear, maybe, or anger. "What's wrong with us?" he asked, his tone defensive. "I thought everything was fine."

"That's just it," you said, trying to keep your voice calm, even. "It’s not fine, Yuta. You've been… different. Intense. I feel like you’re watching me all the time, like you’re waiting for something to happen."

His expression hardened, and he stood up, crossing the room in a few quick strides. "I’m just worried about you," he insisted, his hands reaching out to grasp yours. His touch was warm, but his grip was too tight. "I don’t want anything to happen to you."

You pulled your hands away, frustration boiling over. "Worried? Yuta, you're acting like I'm in constant danger! You don’t let me out of your sight, you barely let me breathe!"

His eyes widened, and for a moment, he looked genuinely hurt. "I’m trying to protect you," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "You don’t know what it was like out there… what I saw… what I felt. I thought about you every day, every minute. I couldn't bear the thought of losing you."

"And I missed you too," you replied, your voice shaking. "But this… this isn't the way. You can't just come back and act like I’m something you need to lock away, like I’m some fragile thing that needs to be hidden."

Yuta's expression darkened, his jaw clenching. "You don’t understand," he said, his voice low, almost a growl. "I’m doing this because I love you."

You felt a surge of anger, your own frustration bubbling to the surface. "No, Yuta. This isn’t love—this is control. This is obsession."

His face twisted in pain, and his cursed energy flared around him, an involuntary reaction to his emotions. "You think I’m obsessed?" he demanded, his voice rising. "I’m not obsessed—I’m terrified! I’ve lost too much already. I can’t lose you, too."

The intensity in his voice, the raw desperation—it sent a chill down your spine. "Yuta," you began, trying to reach out to him, to calm him down. "I’m not going anywhere, but you can’t keep treating me like—"

"Like what?" he snapped, his voice sharp, cutting. "Like you’re mine? Because you are mine! You promised me, remember? You promised we’d be together."

You flinched at his words, the possessive edge to them. "I didn’t promise to be your prisoner," you shot back. "I didn’t agree to be locked away and suffocated because you’re afraid!"

His face twisted with rage, his cursed energy sparking again. The air crackled around you, heavy with tension. "Why can’t you just understand?" he shouted, stepping closer, his voice cracking with emotion. "Why can’t you see I’m doing this for you?"

"For me?" you repeated, incredulous. "Yuta, you’re doing this for yourself! Because you’re scared and you think you can control everything around you, including me!"

He took another step forward, his eyes blazing. "I’m not trying to control you," he insisted, but the way his hands shook, the way his cursed energy surged—it told a different story.

"Yes, you are!" you screamed, your own cursed energy flaring in response. "And I won’t let you!"

For a moment, everything was still. Then, Yuta moved. Fast. Too fast. His cursed energy lashed out like a whip, and you barely had time to raise your own defenses, blocking his attack with a shimmering barrier.

"Yuta, stop!" you cried, but he was lost in his own fear, his own desperation. "Please, just stop!"

But he didn’t stop. He couldn’t. His movements were frantic, uncoordinated, his attacks wild and filled with raw emotion. You countered, your own cursed energy pushing back against his, a desperate attempt to defend yourself, to get through to him.

"Why are you doing this?" you yelled, your heart pounding in your chest. "Why are you fighting me?"

"Because I love you!" he screamed back, his voice breaking with a mix of anguish and fury. "Because I can’t lose you! I won’t!"

His words cut through you, a knife to your heart. "Yuta," you whispered, tears streaming down your face. "You’re already losing me… you’re pushing me away."

For a moment, he faltered. You saw the realization flicker across his face, the fear, the regret. But then his eyes hardened again, his desperation returning. "No," he muttered, almost to himself. "No, I can’t… I can’t let you go."

Before you could respond, he surged forward, his cursed energy flaring to life once more. You reacted instinctively, readying your CT to meet his attack, but the force of his attack was too strong, too uncontrolled. There was a blinding flash of light, a surge of power, and then… pain.

You gasped, the breath knocked out of you as you felt something sharp, something burning. You looked down, your vision blurring, and saw blood—your blood, pooling around you, a blade sticking out. You heard Yuta's scream, a sound of pure horror, but it felt distant, far away.

"No, no, no," Yuta was sobbing, his hands hovering over you, trembling. "I didn’t mean to… I didn’t…"

Your vision darkened, your body growing cold. "Yuta…" you managed to whisper, your voice weak, fading. "Why…?"

He was crying, tears streaming down his face, his expression twisted in anguish. "I’m sorry," he choked out, his voice breaking. "I didn’t mean to… I was trying to… I was trying to keep you safe…"

But his words barely registered. You felt yourself slipping away, the world around you growing dim, distant. The last thing you saw was his face, twisted in pain, his eyes filled with a fear you’d never seen before. And then… darkness.

You weren't sure how much time had passed. It felt like an eternity, but also no time at all.

You awoke with a gasp, your body jolting back to consciousness with a force that left you breathless. The air around you felt thick, heavy, charged with a dark, oppressive energy. You felt cold, your skin prickling with an unnatural chill.

You blinked, your vision clearing, and saw Yuta kneeling beside you, his eyes wide, his expression a mix of relief and madness. "You’re back," he whispered, his voice filled with a twisted kind of joy. "You’re back."

You tried to move, but your body felt… wrong. Heavy, sluggish. You looked down and saw your hands, your skin pale, almost translucent, dark veins visible beneath the surface. And then you realized—you weren’t alive. Not truly. You had been brought back as a curse.

"No," you breathed, horror dawning on you. "What… what did you do?"

Yuta’s smile widened, his eyes bright with a feverish kind of excitement. "I brought you back," he said, his voice trembling with emotion. "I couldn’t live without you… so I brought you back. Now we can be together… forever."

You felt a wave of despair crash over you, your new cursed form reacting to the emotions swirling within you. You tried to speak, to scream, but the words caught in your throat. "No," you whispered, shaking your head, tears streaming down your face. "No, Yuta… this isn’t right. I’m not supposed to be here."

Yuta’s hands tightened around yours, his grip almost painful. "But you are here," he insisted, his voice fervent, almost pleading. "I made sure of it. I used every ounce of my cursed energy, every bit of myself, to bring you back. I need you. Don’t you see? We’re meant to be together."

Your chest ached, a hollow, empty feeling that spread through you like a poison. "You brought me back as a curse," you murmured, trying to pull away from him, but your body wouldn’t respond the way you wanted. "I’m not even human anymore… Yuta, what have you done?"

He shook his head, his expression frantic. "No, you’re still you! You’re still the person I love. This doesn’t change anything. It just means… it just means we have more time. We have forever now."

"Forever?" you echoed, a bitter laugh escaping your lips. "Yuta, this isn't a life. This is… this is a nightmare. You’ve trapped me in a body that isn’t even mine. I feel… I feel so cold. So… so lost."

He winced at your words, as if they were a physical blow. "I’m sorry," he whispered, tears spilling from his eyes. "I didn’t know what else to do. I couldn’t bear the thought of a world without you in it. I thought… I thought if I brought you back, we could be happy again."

"Happy?" you repeated, incredulous. "How can I be happy like this? I’m stuck here, bound by your curse. I never wanted this, Yuta. I never wanted to come back like this."

"But you’re here," he said desperately, cupping your face with trembling hands. "You’re here, and that’s all that matters. I’ll make it better, I promise. I’ll do anything, just… please, don’t leave me."

You could see it in his eyes—the fear, the guilt, the deep, consuming love that had driven him to this madness. He wasn’t thinking clearly; he hadn’t been since he returned. Whatever he’d seen, whatever had happened in Africa, had broken something inside him. And now… now you were the one paying the price.

"You brought me back," you whispered, your voice heavy with sorrow. "But at what cost, Yuta? What about my soul? What about my peace?"

Yuta’s face twisted with pain, and he shook his head again, more frantically this time. "No… no, don’t say that. You belong with me. Your soul… it belongs with me. I’ve loved you since the day I met you. I can’t let you go."

"But you already have," you said softly, feeling the weight of the truth settle in your chest. "You killed me, Yuta. And now you’re trying to bring me back, not for me, but for yourself."

He flinched as if you had struck him, and for a moment, you saw a flash of something dark and broken in his eyes. "I didn’t mean to kill you," he whispered, his voice raw with pain. "I didn’t mean to… I just… I couldn’t control it. I was so afraid."

You reached out, your hand touching his cheek. It was a strange sensation—your fingers felt distant, almost numb, as if they belonged to someone else. "I know," you said gently. "I know you were afraid. But you have to understand… this isn’t love. This is fear. This is possession."

"No," he breathed, shaking his head, his hands gripping yours tighter. "No, it’s not like that. I love you… I love you so much."

Tears filled your eyes, blurring your vision. "I know you do," you whispered. "But love isn’t supposed to feel like this. Love isn’t supposed to hurt."

Yuta’s face crumpled, and he pulled you into his arms, his body shaking with silent sobs. "I’m sorry," he choked out, his voice muffled against your shoulder. "I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I just… I just wanted you back."

You closed your eyes, leaning into his embrace, feeling the weight of his grief pressing down on you like a heavy shroud. You wanted to comfort him, to tell him that everything would be okay, but you knew that would be a lie. Nothing would ever be okay again.

As he held you, his cursed energy pulsed around you, a living thing that seemed to feed off his emotions. You felt it tightening around you like a chain, binding you to him, forcing you to stay. You tried to pull away, but the energy held you fast, refusing to let you go.

"Yuta, let me go," you whispered, your voice trembling.

He shook his head, his grip tightening. "I can’t," he murmured. "I won’t."

You felt a wave of panic rising in your chest, your new cursed form reacting to the emotions swirling inside you. "Yuta, please," you begged, your voice breaking. "You have to let me go."

But he only held you tighter, his cursed energy wrapping around you like a cocoon, suffocating, inescapable. "No," he whispered, his voice filled with a quiet, desperate resolve. "You’re mine… you’ll always be mine."

And as you felt the curse tighten its grip around you, pulling you deeper into the darkness, you realized with a sinking heart that he meant it. Yuta’s love for you had twisted into something monstrous, something that would bind you to him forever.

You were trapped—his, now and always, bound to him by a love that had become a curse.

You closed your eyes, feeling the tears slip down your cheeks, and whispered into the darkness, "What have you done to me, Yuta?"

But there was no answer. Only the silence of the room, the weight of his arms around you, and the endless, suffocating darkness that stretched out before you.

©️ LOBOTOMISA 2024! DO NOT COPY OR PLAGIARIZE MY WORK!

[whatbigotspost]

I may have already rambled about this, but at some point in my career, I took "yes and" from the improv world and applied to to all professional settings and it's honestly one of the greatest tools for me, of all time.

Someone making an unreasonable request for my time/attention but I gotta play nice? ie, "Hey can you pull thing XYZ together for me today?"

"Yes and I'm going to need until next Friday to complete it w/ everything else on my plate. Thanks for your patience!"

Someone super enthusiastic about an idea w/ a kernel of goodness among a sea of shit?

"Yes, that's a great idea, and I think to make it really work, we need to change..."

In fact, if I'm being real REAL, I use "yes and" here all the time, too, to add stuff that I think is VERY important on a give topic but is missing from a post that otherwise has a good take. Like there's no need to be like, "UGH YOU FORGOT" when instead I can say something like, "Yes, this is awesome, AND I want to add..."

People all have very different communication styles in professional settings and I'm someone who is fairly conflict adverse. I will typically err on the side of harmony, trying to cultivate positive rapport and good team rhythm, w/ anyone else who is also acting in good faith. I haaaate overtly negative conflict, arguing, etc. and frankly it triggers me. Of course sometimes I have to steel my spine for hard convos and I would never avoid productive/healthy conflict.

When there's no need for overt conflict but a gentle redirect will help, "yes and" is a hell of a tool.

[shotmrmiller]

sleepless night

AN: Right right i've never written anything before but i read far too much smut to not contribute. Can't promise it'll be great but I kinda squealed through some parts i wrote so i suppose that means SOMETHING, ye?

plz im a 29 year old boomer on tumblr whatever i missed to post this such as TW and such forgive me. I used to lick stamps to post them on envelopes.

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x AFAB!Reader

TW: 18+smut, fingering

NSFW MDNI ♡

You're both in bed for the night and it's been about half an hour since you've lied down but Simon's not lightly snoring like he usually does once he's asleep. Being on the field has taught him that he'll never know when there's a chance to rest, so Simon's usually out in minutes of lying his head on the pillows. Knowing he's still awake, you're about to turn around to ask him why he's still up when his grip on your hips tightens as he grinds his hard length against your ass. You softly moan as you grind back onto him. "Si-" "Hush, love. Let me take care of you, eh?" You widen your thighs when you feel his hand slipping into your panties. Using his middle and ring fingers, he starts doing light circles on your hood, just above your clit. It's a little dry so Simon takes that hand, shoves his fingers in his mouth to gather moisture, and goes back to rubbing you. The rough pads of his fingers start to feel slippery with your leaking arousal as they move to directly stroke your clit and every little motion sends sparks up your spine. Grabbing his thick forearm, you start to dig your fingernails into his skin as your clit starts to swell. Your thighs begin to tremble, toes curling as the coil in your lower belly is winding tighter- "That's it, sweetheart, give it to me," he murmurs as he shoves two thick fingers into your dripping quim, using his thumb to continue drawing circles. You're at the very edge of the cliff, so fucking close, and Simon curls his fingers, pushes up and towards him, and your sweet pussy squelches— "Fuckin' hell, pet." There's a loud ringing in your ears as everything else lowers to a muffle, your gummy walls rhythmically pulse around his fingers, orgasm so intense you're soaking his hand and the bed sheets. Fingers on one side of the jaw and thumb on the other, Simon turns your head to kiss you—soft and languid. He pulls his fingers out of you and you hiss, hypersensitive. You watch him pull his hand up to look at the beauty of his work, spreading his fingers- strings of your sticky cum connect between them. He turns to face you and with a smug little smirk says, "You've made a proper mess, love." Your cheeks redden as you turn your head into the crook of his neck and he gives a throaty chuckle. Getting up from the bed to slot himself in between your shaky legs, he uses his thumb to pull the drenched gusset of your panties to the side and presses his thick length right up against your slit— it feels like velvet wrapped around steel, and oh so hot— he says, "Scream if you like, Darlin'. You're going to feel this."

cheers~

[malum-forev]

A Place I Once Called Home

Summary: The four times Bucky showed up at your place unexpected. 

The first time Bucky came stumbling into your apartment was a few weeks after he moved into the building. You’d been living in New York for quite some time so you weren’t oblivious to The Avengers and the fact that they resided in the same apartment complex. It was actually one of the reasons you paid the premium for living there. So what if your landlord hiked up the rent twice a year and there were some broken windows thanks to aliens trying to get to the superheroes when they’re least expecting it, right? It was all in the name of safety. Or so you thought.

Your friends had left hours ago, and although you loved your weekly wine and cheese night you sometimes hoped they would stay after to help you clean the dishes. You hummed along to the song that was quietly playing, the small speaker filling your whole apartment. At first you thought the rattling you heard was part of the melody. But a chill went through your spine as you heard a loud thump at your door, making you almost drop the wine glass into the soapy water. 

As you dried your hands and walked towards the door there was another loud bang against your door. You clutched the baseball bat hidden behind your TV, a lovely present from a misogynistic ex-boyfriend. He’d thought it be ‘cute’ to show you how to hold a bat. There’s only one fucking way to hold a bat you mansplaining son of a- bang! 

‘You don’t have time to think about this right now!’ You scolded yourself. 

You peered through the peephole to find two male figures trying to pick your lock, the handle rattled. 

One, two, three deep breaths and you opened the door, bat clutched and ready to hit anything and everything. A woman ready for battle, adrenaline rushed through your veins, blood rushing to your head. But before you could even unleash your first swing, one of the men dropped near your knees with a thump and a groan. Half of his body inside your apartment while his long legs sprawled across the hallway. 

“Buck! You said your apartment was 213!” The man you soon recognized as Captain America said, shooting you a ‘You have no idea how sorry I am’ face with reddened cheeks. 

You stood inside your apartment with mouth agape as you watched one of Earths Mightiest Heroes struggle to pull another super up from your floor. 

“Miss I am truly sorry to have interrupted you.” Captain America apologized. “I’m Steve and the man who is currently petting your slippers is my friend Bucky.”

Your brows furrowed as you looked down at the man known as the Winter Soldier running his hand through the fur of your plush husky shaped slippers.

“I’m more of a cat guy but these two doggies look friendly. What-“ he hiccupped. “are their names?”

His steel blue eyes followed yours as Steve picked him off the floor and leaned him against your doorframe. 

“Ma’am, are you okay?” It was until Steve asked you the question that you realized you hadn’t answered.

You shook your head to try and reset your brain. “I’m sorry, yes I’m good it’s just that- well I know some superheroes live here I just didn’t think two Avengers would come knocking on my door. 

“I’m not an Avenger.” Bucky grumbled, closing his eyes for what he thought was a second. What actually happened was that he lost his balance and ended up falling forward into you. It took all of your strength to not topple over. 

“For fucks sake.” Steve muttered under his breath, he usually didn’t swear but his best friend was making his patience wear down, as he peeled Bucky off of you.

“You smell really nice.” Bucky slurred with a loopy smile. 

 “Just to wrap things up, we’re extremely sorry for trying to break into your apartment, for probably scaring you half to death and for anything and everything Bucky’s said.” Steve smiled before turning right and lugging his friend down the hallway.

“His apartment is down this way!” You said pointing to the left side. “216, on the other side of the hall.”

“Thank you ma’am. Have a good night.” Steve huffed hiking up Bucky’s arm on his shoulder, as they passed your apartment again. 

“Thank you pretty lady.” Bucky said with a singsong tone and a wink. 

The second time you found Bucky in your apartment was a few weeks later. He had walked past your door a total of six times in the last few hours. The mission was to give you an iced coffee for your troubles the other night. And as of today, he was two weeks and four days late on completing the mission. The original plan was to stop by the day after he’d drunkenly showed up at your door, but the anxiety and panic that had settled into his bones made him jump back into his place anytime he heard your door open.

“What if she doesn’t drink coffee? She’ll think it’s disrespectful of me to bring her that.” He convinced himself. So the only logical thing to do was to follow you around for a couple of days. Maybe this way he would find out your exact order and get it right. Not telling his therapist what he was up to would be smart. 

After a few days he got your order right and even found out what kind of flowers you liked. 

Days passed and the petals from the bouquet he bought started falling off, the ice on your coffee was long gone. Another worried crease appeared on his forehead as he contemplated walking to your apartment with nothing in his hands but no, the pretty lady with the beautiful eyes he thought he’d only dreamt about deserved more. 

So here he was, a new coffee in his right hand and a bouquet of flowers on his left one. But before he knew it, another problem raised. How the hell was he supposed to knock on your door. Was he supposed to use the right one and spill your coffee or would he have to hope that by using the left one the petals wouldn’t drop. He was about to abort the mission completely but then he heard your lock turn. 

With each second that passed, and God did he feel like millions passed, he grew more nervous. Was his hand actually sweating? That hadn’t happened since before he enlisted. 

But once you opened your door with that cheeky smile of yours, everything seemed to disappear.

“Should I be concerned about this habit of yours? Do you always lurk around women’s doors?” 

One sentence, that’s all it took for him to turn into putty. A useless puddle around your feet, begging for more of you, anything you’d give him. 

“I only lurk around the ones who I owe an apology to.” Bucky licked his lips, bringing forward the contents in his hands.

“Hmm, my orders exactly. Did you get lucky or did someone help you out?” You smiled at him as you took both gifts and walked back into your apartment. Bucky took you leaving the door open as an invitation. Did you always do this or were you letting him in because there was something unique? He urgently needed answers because in just a couple of minutes you’d already managed to make him feel special. 

“I’m a good at apologies and buying gifts.” Bucky rubbed the back of his neck, eyes glued to the floor. 

You bit the inside of your cheek. “You’re a pretty good liar but terrible at hiding. You’d think being a super-secret spy assassin would make you stealthy.”

His eyes widened first at your words then at your laughter. The sound rang in his head like a beautiful melody. 

“I saw you following me a couple of days ago.” You smiled, placing the flowers in a vase full of water. “In the coffee shop down the street, in the flower shop. I even saw you in the library, I’m almost positive you were reading a book upside down!”

The blush crept from the back of his neck up to the apples of his cheeks. 

“I wanted to make sure I got you the right coffee.” Bucky mumbled, his one chance with you and he’d blow it. 

“You’re lucky you’re cute.” You trapped your bottom lip with your teeth as his body perked up hearing your words. 

“We can start again.” You held your hand out and told him your name. 

The third time was a month after the apology. In the last four weeks, the two of you had been spending every possible single second together. It started when you ‘accidentally’ came out of your apartments at the same time. Bucky would never admit that he was looking through his peephole and waiting for you to turn the knob on your door. 

“Good morning.” Bucky said with a fake yawn, acting like he hasn’t been up since 5:05am. He stretched his arms a little more than he had to, making sure you could catch a glimpse of his toned body under his dark t-shirt. Bucky knew he’d missed out on many things but flirting with you came naturally. “Do you know any good coffee places around here?”

You smiled at his obvious antics blushing like a schoolgirl. “There’s this place around the corner.”

Your morning coffee turned into a morning run and then coffee ritual, then breakfast was added. Afterwards, lunch at 12:30 and dinner at your house every Thursday. Which turned into dinner at alternating apartments every day of the week. 

But today you truly weren’t expecting him.

“I’ll see you on Monday okay? Coffees on me?” He’d mumbled against your hair two days ago, your body wrapped in his arms. “I just gotta go on this mission but I promise I’ll be back before our run.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, it felt like a bunch of thorns prickling your neck. In just a few short weeks he’d become an integral part of your life. You realized it was stupid to feel like this about someone who’d never even said he liked you but you couldn’t help but fall headfirst. “Please be safe.” 

He tilted your head up towards him and ran his knuckles down your cheek. Your soft skin soothed his rough hands. He couldn’t believe someone as angelic as you would even look at someone like him. His troubled mind and his past didn’t seem to affect you. You just saw him. For the first time in forever he felt scared to go to a mission, knowing he had something to lose. 

“I’ll be back sooner than you think, doll.” He smiled as he placed a kiss on the top of your head. 

Now, you found yourself being woken up by two soft knocks on your door. 11:45 pm on Sunday night. You must’ve fallen asleep on your couch, your TV asking you ‘Are you Still Watching?”

A bruised and bloody Bucky greeted you as you opened your door. A gasp escaped your lips.

“That bad huh?” Bucky chuckled, leaning against your doorframe. 

You dragged the Winter Soldier into your small bathroom and sat him on the edge of the tub, grabbing your first aid kit from underneath your sink. You sat in front of him, scooting your knees to rest on the inside of his legs, wiping the blood off of his cut lip. 

“Do you always come home like this?” You asked, throwing away another antiseptic wipe into the bin.

“I usually go to the med bay after missions.” Bucky shrugged, his eyes never leaving yours.

A worried look took over your features. “Why didn’t you go this time?”

“I made you a promise. If I’d gone all the way over there I wouldn’t have been able to make our run tomorrow.”

Your whole body fluttered and you couldn’t help yourself. You took Bucky’s face in your hands and you smashed your lips to his. Bucky held the back of your neck as he followed your lead. He kissed like a man starved, your kisses felt like the sun shining in the middle of a snowy winter. It lit him up inside. Before you knew it, you were dragging him from the bathroom into your bedroom, bumping into various furniture but not caring.

You only separated to take his shirt off. 

“Wait!” Bucky said, his jagged breath didn’t stop him from unbuckling his belt with one hand while the other was already working on the button of his jeans.

You tugged your shirt back down. “You want to stop?”

A loud laugh ripped through his chest. “No! God no. I was just going to ask you if we could keep our kisses to the left side of my mouth.” He pointed at his bruised lip.

You bit your bottom lip. “I think I could do that.”

He could come undone just by looking at you. Your sweet face only spoke words of temptation and he was more than happy to convert. 

The fourth time came eight months after he’d asked you to be his girlfriend. Everything had been great up until a month ago when the days started getting longer and the disappointment grew deeper. 

You’d arranged a special dinner with Bucky since he’d been working late recently and now he was three hours late, again. The food had already been in the fridge for a while and the candles blown out. 

He found you sitting on the fire escape when he came into the apartment, the faint smell of cigarettes lingered. 

“I thought you said you’d quit smoking a long time ago.” Bucky tried to joke but his words sounded harsher than he’d intended. 

“This isn’t working.” You mumbled, wrapping your arms around yourself.

Bucky chuckled, shoving a forkful of cold pasta into his mouth. “Of course it’s not working, you keep an old pack of cigarettes in the closet.”

He choked on a loose noodle as he saw your tear-stained face. You wiped your cheeks, your whole face felt hot. “You and I, Buck. We’re not working.”

This was it, the moment he’d been preparing for. He knew you would break sooner or later, who in their right mind would want to have an actual relationship with him. Someone who has to constantly sacrifice dinners and anniversaries, someone who risks his life on a daily basis, someone who risks the lives of loved ones on purpose. 

A few weeks back, he’d been interrogating someone linked to the Flag Smashers when he’d heard the words he’d been dreading. Your name slipped out of them like venom. They’d found out about his secret, Bucky had been guarding your love with his life but it wasn’t enough. You’d always be in danger with him.

But he couldn’t bear to leave you so he took the cowards way out. Spent more time at the compound, trained longer and drove mindlessly for hours, all so you would think he was busy with work or that he didn’t care. Maybe one day you would get tired and leave him because he sure as hell couldn’t bear to look you in the eyes and tell you it’s over.

And although he was expecting these words to come out of your mouth sooner or later, it still broke him. His heart fractured like porcelain, a deep hurt brewed in his body like a deep pit somehow appeared in his stomach.

“I understand.” He whispered, gluing his arms to his side because if he so much as touched the aura around you, he would drop to his knees and beg for forgiveness. “I come with a lot of baggage and my job doesn’t really help so, I understand.”

A dry laugh escaped you, the sadness in your eyes turning into fury. “I knew what I was getting into when we started dating Buck. I knew you had hundred-year-old baggage weighing on you like a ton of bricks. I was also aware of your job description and even though I fucking hate seeing you hurt- and you have no idea how much it physically pains me to see you come through that door with a black eye and broken everything, I know it’s something I have to get over. Because I was willing to be with you, all of you.”

“We could have been like this forever, happy and in love. And every single day I would open that door and listen to the shit you have to put up with from all the people who don’t know you and clean your wounds and take care of you. I could have done that till the end of my life. But I can’t anymore, not when you lie. You’ve been lying about being at work when I know damned well you left hours ago. I cannot be with you if you won’t tell me what goes through your head. What troubles you. You won’t even say you love me, when I know for a fact you do.”

“You wait every single night until you think that I’ve fallen asleep and you say you love me over and over because you think I can’t hear you. But I do. And I love you, I love you so much it hurts. I love you so much that- that I’m willing to let you go. Because you sure as hell don’t want to stay, for some unknown reason you won’t tell me.”

“You won’t tell me even though I’ve proven to you that I can take care of your naked soul. No Winter Soldier, no vibranium, no Hydra. Just Bucky.” Your voice cracked. “So if you won’t admit that, then you should leave.”

Your words cut through Bucky like thousands of knives, each tear that fell from your face was a reminder of why he had to leave even though his whole body begged him to stay. He would hurt you more if he stayed- so that’s what he did, he left. Without a word he walked out of the apartment that had become a true home to him for the first time in decades and never looked back. Not when you slammed the door and not when he heard you sob. 

Part 2: Hurry Back Home

Wanna read more like this? Here’s my latest post. 💖

Authors Note:

Heeeyyy everyoneee, sooo this is the first time I've posted in a loooongggg time so I hope you guys liked it. If you did please like comment reblog the whole thing! Thanksss <3

[sonamytrash]

Catch up

Yuta Okkotsu x Fem reader.

Warnings: Older reader implied, only slighter older by a few years. Pining, mutual pining, fluff, bittersweet romance.

Banner by @cafekitsune

Tokyo Prefectural Jujutsu High School, a bastion of arcane knowledge for the next generation of sorcerers. It serves not only as a training ground but also as a headquarters for all who have graduated. The air was always thick with the scent of incense as students roamed the hallowed halls in their distinctive uniforms, their conversations, a symphony of ambition, and camaraderie. Yuta, however, often found himself lost in thought, his gaze lingering often on you as you walked by, your hips swaying gently with each step you took. Your eyes would occasionally flicker in his direction, sending a shiver down his spine. Did you know? Did you notice his furtive glances all these years? You were an intelligent woman, you must know.

The rumour mill had recently churned with whispers that you would soon be leaving Japan for an overseas assignment, a rare opportunity for any young sorcerer. The prospect of your departure weighed heavily on Yuta's heart. Having recently returned from Africa, he was hopeful to spend some time alongside you. Just a few short weeks before you had to leave, however, it seemed cruelly short.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the grounds were bathed in a warm orange glow, Yuta gathered the courage to approach you. His heart thudded in his chest as he stepped into the quiet library where you could often be found with a cup of tea whenever you were visiting the establishment. The scent of old tomes and parchment filled the air, creating a cosy atmosphere. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come.

"Senpai," he began, his voice barely above a whisper.

You looked up from your book. You had felt his presence before he had even spoken, the air around the two of you crackling with the tension of unspoken words. You set the tome aside, your delicate fingers brushing against the leather cover. "Okkotsu-kun," you reply politely, your voice like a melody that could soothe the fiercest of spirits. "You're back from Africa," you say, smiling softly at him. "How was your trip?" You gaze softly over his features. He was taller and definitely stronger. His new haircut framed his delicate, handsome features.

Yuta's cheeks flushed a deep shade of red, feeling your eyes on him, and he fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. "It was... enlightening," he managed to say, his mind racing for the right words. He had dreamed of this moment, but now that it was here, he found himself at a loss for what to say. "I heard you'll be leaving soon," he added, trying to keep his voice steady.

Your smile faltered slightly, a hint of sadness creeping into your eyes. "Yes, I've been offered a position abroad," you reply. "It's an opportunity I can't pass up. But I'll miss everyone here."

"I... I just wanted to thank you," he stuttered, his eyes darting around the room as if searching for an escape route. "For everything you've taught me. I wouldn't be where I am without your guidance."

Gojo had asked you to help Yuta upon his admission to the school as a special grade sorcerer almost two years ago now. You weren't keen on having to babysit, and you weren't what anyone would consider a natural at teaching. Keeping yourself to yourself and working alone was more your style. Which was precisely why the man had asked you to spend some time with Yuta. You were a kind woman but also fiercely strong, funny, and understanding. However, you surprisingly found yourself enjoying the time you spent working on missions together. There were a couple of years between the two of you, and you weren't surprised when you sensed his schoolboy crush during your later interactions following The Night Parade of 100 Demons. You'd be lying if you didn't think he was adorable back then and had grown during his time away, you had thought about your newfound feelings towards him in more recent weeks, acknowledging his strength as a sorcerer and what a good man he continues to grow into. But you didn't want to serve as anymore of a distraction for him, and the fact still stood that you would be leaving soon.

You tilted your head, a small smile playing on your lips. "You're welcome, Yuta," you replied warmly. "Your progress was quite remarkable." Your eyes searched his, and for a moment, he thought he saw something flicker in their depths—was it understanding?

The silence stretched between the two of you, thick with unspoken feelings. Yuta's palms grew clammy, and he clenched them into fists at his sides. He had rehearsed this moment a thousand times in his head, but now that he was here, the words felt clumsy and inadequate. He took a step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "There's something else I need to tell you," he murmured.

You leaned back in your chair, arms folded under your chest. "Go on," you encouraged, your voice a soft caress that seemed to echo in the quiet library.

Yuta took another step closer, his heart pounding like a drum in his ears. He could feel the warmth of your presence, the energy that surrounded you like a comforting blanket. "Senpai," he said, his voice steadying. "I... I have feelings for you. I know it's not proper, and I'm sorry if this makes you uncomfortable, but I can't keep it to myself anymore. I wanted to be honest with you.... before you leave."

Your smile never wavered, but your eyes searched his, looking for the sincerity behind his words. "Feelings, huh?" You mused, your voice a gentle breeze. "That's quite the confession, Okkotsu-kun."

Yuta nodded, his throat tight with emotion. He had hoped for a positive reaction, but he was prepared for rejection. "I know it's sudden," he said, his voice low. "But I've had these feelings for a long time."

You studied him for a moment, your gaze unreadable. Then, you stood up, closing the gap between the two of you. Your hand reached out and touched his cheek, your skin warm against his. "You're a good man, Yuta," you said, your voice tender. "And a powerful sorcerer. But you're also very young."

Yuta's heart skipped a beat, and he leaned into your touch. "I know," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "But I can't help how I feel."

Your eyes searched his, your thumb gently brushing against his cheekbone. "I appreciate your honesty," you murmur. "But we are in a delicate position. We are both sorcerers, with duties and responsibilities that extend beyond our personal lives."

Yuta nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. "I understand," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "But I had to tell you. I couldn't keep it bottled up anymore."

Your hand lingered on his cheek, your thumb tracing a small circle. "I appreciate your honesty," you said softly. "It's not every day someone confesses to me like this. I have to say, I'm flattered."

Yuta felt a spark of hope. "Does that mean that you're not completely rejecting me?"

You chuckled lightly, your eyes never leaving his. "It means that I'll think about it," you reply, your voice a gentle caress. "We are sorcerers. Our lives are fraught with danger and responsibility. Love is a precious thing, but it can also be a distraction. You know better than anyone how dangerous it can be."

Yuta's heart sank, but he understood. He knew you were right, but he couldn't help the wave of disappointment that washed over him. "I understand," he murmured, trying to hide his feelings.

You searched his eyes, your gaze piercing. "But I don't want you to think I don't care," you state. "I do. More than you know."

Yuta felt his hope rekindle. "Do you mean..." he trailed off, unable to form the question, his face reddening.

You leaned in closer, your breath a gentle caress on his cheek. "It means," you whispered, "it's a small world of sorcerers, and that I'll be waiting for you to catch up."

[songbirdseung]

beautiful in white / lee heeseung

synopsis: what could possibly go wrong when you take your boyfriend and best friend to dress shopping?

pairing: bf!heeseung x reader, bff!jake, love triangle?

warnings: love triangle, insecurities, tension, lmk if i missed anything

wc: 600

You nervously checked your reflection in the mirror, smoothing down the fabric of the white sundress you'd chosen for the family event. It was a big deal, and you wanted to look perfect. You could feel the weight of Heeseung's and Jake's gazes on you as you turned around.

Heeseung's eyes widened as he took in your appearance. "Wow, you look amazing," he said, his voice filled with genuine admiration.

Jake nodded in agreement, a small smile playing on his lips. "Yeah, you really do. That dress suits you perfectly."

You couldn't help but blush at their compliments, feeling a surge of confidence wash over you. "Thanks, guys. I'm glad you like it," you replied, twirling around to give them a full view.

Heeseung stepped closer, reaching out to gently adjust the strap of your dress. "You're going to knock everyone's socks off," he said, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

You shared a smile with him, feeling a warm flutter of affection in your chest. "I hope so," you said softly, leaning into his touch.

Jake cleared his throat awkwardly, drawing your attention. "Um, yeah, definitely. You're going to be the belle of the ball," he said, his tone slightly strained.

You frowned slightly, sensing a shift in the atmosphere. "Is everything okay, Jake?" you asked, concern lacing your voice.

Heeseung shot Jake a questioning look, his brow furrowing with concern. "Yeah, you seem a little off," he added, his tone gentle.

Jake shifted uncomfortably, avoiding your gaze. "I, uh, I was just thinking about… um, the future," he stammered, his cheeks flushing slightly.

You exchanged a confused glance with Heeseung, unsure of what Jake was getting at. "What about the future?" you asked, your curiosity piqued.

Jake took a deep breath, steeling himself. "Well, I mean, I was just imagining… hypothetically speaking… if, uh, if you were to get married someday," he said, his words tumbling out in a rush.

Heeseung's eyes widened in surprise, his jaw tightening slightly. "Jake, what are you—" he started, but Jake interrupted him.

"I mean, if you were to get married, I can't help but imagine… you in a dress like that," Jake blurted out, his cheeks turning a deeper shade of red.

You felt a knot form in your stomach as the implications of Jake's words sank in. Heeseung's expression darkened, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. "Jake, that's enough," he said, his voice low and clipped.

Jake looked apologetic, realizing he'd crossed a line. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to… I'll just… yeah," he mumbled, stepping back awkwardly.

Tension hung heavy in the air as an uncomfortable silence settled over the room. You looked between Heeseung and Jake, feeling torn between them. "Guys, please don't fight," you pleaded, your voice barely above a whisper.

Heeseung sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I'm not fighting, YN. I just… I need a moment," he said, his tone strained as he turned away from you.

You watched him go, feeling a pang of guilt gnaw at your insides. You knew Heeseung was sensitive about the topic of marriage, and Jake's thoughtless comment had only made things worse. "I'm sorry, Heeseung," you whispered, wishing you could take back the last few minutes.

Jake shuffled his feet awkwardly, looking equally remorseful. "I didn't mean to upset him," he said, his voice tinged with regret.

You shook your head, offering him a weak smile. "It's not your fault, Jake. I think we just… caught him off guard," you said, trying to diffuse the tension.

Jake nodded, his expression somber. "Yeah, I guess so. I'll, uh, I'll give him some space," he said, edging towards the door.

You watched him go, feeling a heavy weight settle on your shoulders. The excitement you'd felt moments ago had been replaced by a sinking feeling of unease. "This was supposed to be a fun day," you thought to yourself, feeling a surge of frustration.

But as you looked at yourself in the mirror once more, you couldn't help but hope that maybe, just maybe, everything would work out in the end.

[yesihaveaobsession]

Enchanted Echos

Alastor x female! witch reader

Summary: Alastor's ex returns, does he still feel the same pull as back then?

A/N- Had a blast writing this one so I hope y'all like it!! Also thank gosh for drafts because I have writers block so here's a short little skit kind of ✨️

Alastor was in the middle of playing with an old, tiny radio in the hotel lobby when the doors swung open, and a familiar scent wafted in—a sweet, slightly smoky smell. When he turned, there stood you, his ex; a powerful witch with an aura that danced in the colors of your voodoo magic.

"Alastor," you purred with a playful smirk on your lips, your eyes like those of a sweet doe, able to lure anyone to you, just as you had lured Alastor oh so long ago. "Miss me?" you asked, batting your eyelashes and standing tall in your long dress. The Radio Demon straightened, trying to maintain his usual air of confidence, but your presence sent a shiver down his spine as he watched you waltz over.

You waved your fingers in front of his face, shimmering hues of your magic swirling around like a captivating spell—though it wasn’t an actual spell you were casting. For a moment, Alastor felt himself slipping back to the time when you first won him over with your charms, which had woven around him, making him forget his better judgment.

"Still caught in my web, are you?" you teased with a tilt of your head. Before he could respond, you playfully bopped his nose—such an innocent gesture that somehow felt like a jolt of electricity. The nostalgic affection he had once fought flooded his senses again as he struggled to keep his composure. You then gripped the flaps of his suit jacket, pulling him closer until your mysterious doe eyes met his.

"Why do you look so serious?" you whispered, leaning in as if sharing a secret.

"Perhaps because I’m not the same naïve Radio Demon you once knew," he replied, his voice steady but laced with a hint of uncertainty.

"Oh, I beg to differ," you said, leaning even closer so that he could feel your breath on his cheek. You took him in for a moment before whispering again, "You still want to impress me."

He couldn’t deny it; a part of him still craved your approval. But he steeled himself, acutely aware of the danger your charm posed.

"I’ve moved on," he insisted, though it was obvious that wasn’t true. You two had dated for three years before he disappeared for seven, and you knew each other so well that you could read his emotions through the grin he always wore. That scared him.

You chuckled softly, the sound almost hypnotic. "Have you? Or are you just playing hard to get?"

Alastor fought the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Hardly. I’m a demon of many talents; charm is simply one of them." The tension between you crackled, an intoxicating mix of nostalgia and unresolved feelings. As you leaned back slightly, Alastor’s heart raced, feeling caught in a web.

"Is that so?" you tilted your head, a glint of mischief in your eyes. "Prove it."

"Why are you really here?" he asked, masking his vulnerability with curiosity.

"Maybe I missed you," you replied coyly. "Or maybe I just wanted to see if you’re still as charming as I remember."

"You should know by now, my dear, charm can be quite deceiving."

"Ah, but that’s the thrill, isn’t it?" you winked, your fingers tracing along his jawline. He didn’t flinch, nor did he move. His eyes remained locked on yours. "Shall we see what happens when the past meets the present?"

As he stared into your enchanting eyes, Alastor couldn’t shake the feeling that this encounter would change everything. But one thing hadn’t changed—the hold you still had on him, even after all these years. Whether this 'meet up' was a good thing, a bad thing, or something in between remained to be seen.

[letmesniffurdaddysfeet]

Months ago, I made the bold decision to join a gym. I've always been drawn to strong, virile men and I knew that if I wanted to even come close to their standard, I needed to push myself beyond my limits. The beginning was brutal; my body ached and trembled as I struggled through each exercise. But slowly, I started to see results - my arms and chest sculpted into a decent shape. It's not easy to stay consistent, but lately, I've found a new motivation that burns within me: Walter.

Walter, the epitome of a gym giant in his forties. Tall, muscular, with a square jaw and arms thicker than my thighs. His confidence and expertise comforted me as he took on the role of my coach. It was during one of my training sessions that things shifted. Seeing me struggle with an exercise, he came over to correct my form and offer advice. And from there, we started training together.

Every session with him ignited a fire within me that was increasingly difficult to contain. Especially since Walter had a habit of being touchy-feely, sending my imagination running wild. Every detail about him excited me - his physique, his scent, his very presence... One evening after an intense workout when we were the last ones in the locker room, we headed to the showers as usual. Thankfully they were individual because just the thought of seeing him naked next door sent shivers down my spine (and other parts of my body). And it would not have been easy to hide it if we were in the same shower... Walter was the type to take his time in the shower while I preferred to get in and out quickly. However, this presented an opportunity that I had been fantasizing about for months but never had the courage to act on... until now.

With the water still running and Walter leisurely showering, I seized the chance to sneakily grab his belongings from the bench. Everything was soaked with sweat - his boxers, his socks. After a moment of hesitation, I couldn't deny my desire any longer and buried my face into his bundle of belongings.

I craved it - for months I had been longing for this forbidden scent, this essence of masculinity. And now, finally, my expectations were met with a potent mixture of sweat, testosterone, and the slight hint of piss. My body was on fire, my cock throbbing as I indulged in this taboo pleasure. I could have orgasmed at the slightest touch, intoxicated by the scent of my gym god.

However, as I lingered in this moment of forbidden pleasure, the cold steel of the locker room door handle jolted me out of my trance. I quickly returned the soaked bundle of belongings to the bench, trying to regain my composure. The adrenaline rush of being caught in the act was electric; it only served to heighten the raw, primal desire that Walter's scent had already ignited within me.

I found Walter buttoning up his shirt, completely unaware of the clandestine act that had just taken place. We exchanged pleasantries and left the gym, my minds racing with secret thoughts

In the days that followed, I found myself unable to stop thinking about the scent of Walter's underwear and socks, and the forbidden nature of my act.

The memory of that scene tormented me at night, making my hand reach for my throbbing member over and over again. But mere fantasy could no longer satisfy my desperate cravings, I needed something tangible... And so, I made the twisted decision to steal a sock from him...who would mind for one missing sock ? My heart raced with anticipation as Walter took his shower, while mine was rushed and short to give me maximum time. The excitement coursing through my veins made me dizzy, the thought of having his scent with me at home, within reach of my hand, my nose, my mouth... As I relished in the musky aroma of his boxers and socks once again, my mind was lost in a haze of pure desire. His boxers reeked of piss and felt stiff and stained against my face, but I was too overcome with arousal to care. In a moment of reckless abandon, I even dared to give them a few licks before plunging my face back into his socks. Lost in a frenzy of ecstasy and still hearing the water running, still thinking I was alone, I failed to sense the presence that had been watching me for a few moments now... "So we have a thing for masculine scents?" F...FUCK?! My body tensed as I spun around to see Walter standing there, observing me with a sly grin and sparkling eyes, his semi-erect penis on full display. He didn't seem angry, in fact, he seemed quite amused by my brazen actions...

"Looks like we have a lot more in common than I thought," Walter said, slowly approaching me. His voice was low and raspy, sending shivers down my spine. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, my mouth going dry as I tried to deny the desire that was taking over me. But the scent of his arousal, the lust in his eyes, it was too late to back away. This was happening, and there was no denying it.

Walter took my hand which was still holding his sock, wrapped his powerful hand above mine and slowly directed it towards my nose, coming to stick to me, I then felt his penis harden against my buttocks and he then ordered me gently. 'sniffle! '

Walter's grip on my hand was like a vice, pulling me closer to him as he pressed his bulging groin against my backside. My breath hitched in fear and anticipation as his other hand grabbed his sock and forcefully brought it up to my nose, the scent of his sweat overwhelming my senses. I could feel his erection growing against me, rubbing against my buttocks with increasing force. Suddenly, he commanded me to sniffle harder and I obeyed without hesitation. As his sock moved over my face, smearing his musky scent all over me, I couldn't help but moan with pleasure. With expert precision, his fingers danced in and out of my mouth, their movements mirrored by my hips grinding against his throbbing cock. The intense sensations consumed me, and I gave myself completely to him, letting him use me however he pleased.

Without warning, Walter abruptly halted and moved for me to join him on the nearby bench. His manhood was fully engorged, the lines of his veins prominent and pulsating with excitement. Precum flowed freely from its tip, glistening in the dim light of the locker room. I obediently obeyed, lowering myself to the ground and pressing my back against the cool tiles that had been marked by countless men's feet. And now, it was Walter's turn to offer his feet to me. He lifted his feet and placed them on my face, a tempting invitation for me to eagerly lick and taste every inch of them. The scent of sweat and musk mingled together, adding to the intoxicating atmosphere as I indulged in this moment with Walter. Walter's face twisted with pleasure as I devoured his big feet, my saliva covering them in a slick sheen. Moaning loudly, I demanded more of what he could offer me, craving every drop of his virile essence. His own excitement was evident as he jerked off, knowing he was close to cumming. As I diligently licked and sniffed, a foot slowly rubbed against my pulsing cock, driving me wild with desire. Our eyes locked in a heated gaze, Walter reveled in my submission to his manhood. The pace of his thrusts increased, matching the rhythm of his foot rubbing against my throbbing member. In a frenzy of lust, I took his other foot into my mouth, hungrily pushing it in and salivating even more. With each moan growing louder, Walter finally reached his climax. A powerful jet of sperm splashed over my body and face, mixing with my saliva and coating his foot. Unable to resist any longer, I came against his second foot in an explosion of pleasure that left my body trembling with ecstasy. Walter then took a sock, wiped off his cum before slipping the sock into my bag.

"A little thank you for your submission," he whispered, before disappearing into the shadows. #malefeet#daddyfeet

[kingsnake101]

For the WIP game, Goth Four has me intrigued :))

SO this one begins with Time, Sky, Legend, and Wind getting captured by dark link. This is another one that I think can mostly speak for itself, so I'm gonna put what I have under the cut. Also I've never played any of Legend's games so I kinda just made up a magic item :/ sorry diehard legend fans

“Maybe if you pace long enough, it'll wear a hole through the floor and we can escape,” Wind commented, receiving a sharp glare from Legend.

Wind was leaning against Sky, who fiddled with his tunic anxiously. Time sat cross-legged on the other side of the cell, face creased in thought. Legend, meanwhile, resumed his pacing.

The walls were dark and cold, the smell of old stone bricks and dark magic permeated the space. It was humiliating, really, that they were captured so easily. It looked like any other shadow portal, why would he have assumed it would teleport them to some creepy dungeon?

Wind looked like he was about to say something, but was interrupted by a cool wind breezing through the cell.

“The hell…” Legend thought to himself, stopping to stare at the small magical tornado that had begun to form on the other side of the bars. It reeked of dark magic.

That seemed to snap Time out of his trance, the older hero rising to his feet and glaring at the disturbance. Legend shivered. He had seen a lot of things in his time, but damn if that wasn't a terrifying look.

The wind picked up, yanking his hair as it swirled around the small room. If Legend squinted, he thought he could see a small figure within the whirlwind.

Shiny black boots emerged from the storm, steps tapping gracefully on the stone floor. A silhouette appeared, form whipping around with the wind. Finally, the figure stepped forwards, backlit by the only light in the room, a single candle behind them. They looked… oddly familiar.

And then, with a snap of their fingers, the wind halted and torches flared to life. There, finally illuminated, stood a goth copy of their smith. His skin was an ashy gray, red eyes framed by dark purple hair. His tunic was similar to Four’s, if Four had an emo phase and dyed everything black. Dark, glittery eyeshadow shone on his face, pairing nicely with lipstick so black it seemed to absorb light. He stood in a dramatic pose with his back straight, not a single hair or thread out of place. A sly grin pulled at his face.

“Greetings, heroes,” dark-Four sneered, leaning forward into a mocking bow. “It’s a pleasure,” he purred, a black forked tongue flicking past sharp teeth as he spoke.

“What do you want with us?” Legend spat, sneering as he stepped up to the bars.

“Well, it wouldn't be any fun if I just told you, now would it?” Dark-Four grinned, a black claw tapping at his chin thoughtfully. A silver ring was wrapped around his finger, a delicate chain connecting it to a matching wristband. Legend swore that it wasn't there earlier. “No, I think I'll leave you guessing. I'm just here to have some fun before Dark Link rips you to shreds,” the grin widened, all the more sinister. Legend swore he could feel Time’s protective, angry aura increase. He didn't miss how the dark refused to look at their oldest member.

Legend heard shuffling behind him, and looked over to see Sky walking up to the bars. A tremor ran down Legend's spine. The skylian’s gentle features contorted into something sharp, something dangerous.

“I suppose they call him ‘godkiller’ for a reason,” Legend assumed, almost feeling guilty for the dark on the other end of that glare. Almost.

A flicker of fear and uncertainty flashed across Dark-Four’s face, before he steeled it back into a lopsided grin. Before Sky could open his mouth to speak, the dark cut him off.

“Don't worry, the prick upstairs specifically told me not to lay a finger on you,” The dark clarified, rolling his eyes. “What he didn't mention, however, were your things.”

Legend's scowl deepened. If that asshole even thought about touching his stuff he would-

Legend's worst fears were confirmed when his own pack rose up through a puddle of dark magic on the floor. The shadow saw his reaction and grinned.

“Ooh, sorry, does this bother you, Pinky?” He mocked, carefully flipping open Legend's bag and peered inside.

“I swear to Hylia, if you even think-” Legend's rant was cut off by some sort of dark magic gag slapping onto his face. He growled in frustration, which only seemed to make the dark smile more.

“If any more of you have any words to say on the subject, I have plenty more,” he warned, dark magic swirling around his fingertips. 

Wind, unfortunately, seemed to take this as a challenge rather than a threat. “You bet I do, you slimy bottom feeder son of a-” Wind half grinned, half sneered, before a similar gag slapped onto his face.

“Anyhow, let's see what the so-called ‘Hero of Legend’ has in here~” the dark drawled, rooting through Legend's bag. Legend cursed at him through the gag. He ignored him.

The dark pulled out a familiar wooden box, shaking it slightly to hear metal bouncing against itself. The box was opened, and his eyes widened in glee. Legend cursed his luck. Out of all the things he could have grabbed, why did it have to be the box full of magic rings?

The dark began carefully picking through the rings, lifting a few up for inspection. He lifted up a particularly gaudy one, before looking Legend in the eye and grinning. Legend recognized that ring. It was one he rarely used, due to its headache-causing abilities and moral implications.

“I must say that I am impressed, Hero of Legend,” the dark smirked at him, holding the ring of mind reading in one hand and the box of rings in the other. “I really thought the most experienced savior of Hyrule would have better fashion taste.”

And if that didn't catch legend off guard.

“These are hideous! Why would you ever carry these around! Half of these clash, and the other half are eyesores,” he scoffed, holding the ring of mind reading like it personally offended him.

“Wait, can he not sense the magic? How?” Legend gawked internally, although he kept his face a mask of anger.

“Here, you can have this one. My eyes can only take so much,” he complained, dramatically shielding his eyes before flicking the ring into the cell. Legend practically dove to catch it. How a reflection of Four could be so stupid, he had no idea. Legend slipped it on.

A swarm of thoughts rushed over him, and Legend internally grimaced. Wind was still spewing some awfully creative insults, Sky was angry and worried, and somehow, the old man was just as unreadable as before.

Legend took a deep breath, focusing on the individual in front of him. He leaned away from the angry thoughts of his comrades and towards the smug cadence of Four’s doppelganger.

“Poor fools. They'll never find the exit, I can barely find it even though I know that it's behind a false wall at the end of the hallway. And even then, they'll never get past the guards watching their stuff. Sure, they tend to fall asleep after dinner at around 8 o’ clock, but the heroes don't know that. They also have no idea that Dark Link and I are constantly doing patrols, except for tonight because Dark is going to look for the other heroes and I'm leaving so I can have a spa day. I bet they don't even know that my Link likes to secretly sew lockpicks into his friend’s clothes. Fools. They'll never escape. Muahahahahahahahaha-”

Legend discreetly slid the ring off his finger. He was already getting a headache, and the maniacal laughter was like a stake being driven into his skull. Besides, he has already gotten plenty of information.

“Well, it seems our time must come to an end. It was an honor to meet you, truly. Hopefully I get to see you again before Dark rips you apart,” he sneered, bowing again. “I bid you adieu,” with one last dramatic twirl, he sunk into the shadows once more.

As soon as the shadow was gone, Legend turned his attention to Wind. “What? What's that look for?” Wind questioned, scooching away from Legend. It seems the gag had disappeared when the shadow did.

“Give me your tunic,” Legend demanded, holding out his hand.

Wind curled back, clutching his hand protectively to his chest. “No way! Ayrll gave this to me!” Wind huffed, scooting back.

Sky leaned forward, trying to seperate the two heroes somewhat. “Do you want mine?” he offered.

Legend nodded, scooting over to Sky. He ran his fingers along the hem, looking for anything that seemed out of place. Sky eyed him with confusion, but didn't comment. He found what he was looking for in the seam, right before the hem of the shirt. It seemed like a small piece of fabric had been added, with a wide stitch that could easily tear away with the help of the lockpicks inside. Legend made quick work of it.

“Wait, what? How did you know that was there?” Wind questioned, leaning forward. Sky picked at his tunic with confusion.

Legend stood up, wincing when his joints protested. He brushed himself off before making his way to the cell door. “I remembered that the smithy likes to hide lockpicks in our clothes,” Legend explained as he fiddled with the lock. He decided not to mention the whole mind-reading thing. Maybe another day. The door swung open with a soft click.

[constesplanetarium]

☼⚠︎ Yandere Stalker/Kidnapper x Gn! AFAB! Reader

Darkness rating ) 7/10: “Feel that shiver up your spine?”

✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

ya, thats it :) i wanted to write smth on the darker side

might make another part, this was pretty fun to write (ya it was fun. IM CRAZY!!!)

✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT.

This work contains potentially sensitive content to some. Please be careful.

✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

CONTENT WARNINGS!!!

Knife play, blood play, blood consumption, kidnapping, sorta dacryphilia(?), mentions of stalking, drug use, and cannibalism.

Word count: Around 1.5k

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

Cold steel drags down your neck slowly, making your heart race as the point of the knife pokes into your Adam's apple. You would try to plead with him to stop, but you know it wouldn’t do you any good in this situation. The blindfold feels like it's stabbing your eyes, the way darkness envelops your sight. Are you in a basement? It’s so cold. The ropes rub harshly on your wrists and ankles as you squirm in the chair, making your skin burn. You just have your undergarments on, making your whole body shiver. Of course he stripped you down. All you can do is hear the idiotic mumbling of a man who is so obviously not in his right mind.

“Baby, you look so beautiful, oh my god…” He whispers quietly, making you miss the silence that was present a couple seconds ago. His voice shakes as he speaks, and his breathing is heavy. “I finally get to have you like this, isn’t this incredible…?”

How did you get here? You try to recap every single memory following up to this, but everything comes back in fragments, and it’s all nothing but a blur in your head. You must’ve been drugged, by the way you feel so sluggish and drowsy. You can’t remember anything at all.

His knife drags down to your chest, then all the way down to your stomach. You try to press your legs together in vain, the ropes on your ankles holding you back. He chuckles and presses the tip of the knife into your inner thigh, making you wince in pain as a small drop of blood trickles down your leg. You have to bite back your tongue to prevent yourself from screaming, once you feel his hot tongue lick the trickle of blood up to the wound, and he plants a kiss on the piercing. “You taste so good, I could eat you up right now…” Why the hell does he sound out of breath? Is he going to kill you?

Before you know it, that exact question spills out of your mouth.

“Huh, kill you? No, no, baby…” His cold hand rubs your inner thigh, smearing blood all over. His hand feels so rough. “I wouldn’t ever do that, please believe me.” His soft lips kiss your wound, and at this point, you’re starting to feel sick. “... But I want to taste you so bad, it’s tempting.” You jerk your head away from him as he whispers in your ear, and he starts to laugh. “I’m only kidding baby, relax!” How the hell can you relax? “Mm, but I dunno.” His knees hit the floor, and he lays his head on your lap, feeling around your stomach. “Maybe I could start here, and work my way up.” Two of his fingers press on your clothed cunt, and you flinch. “Should I go to your intestines next?” He cooes sweetly, almost like it’s just sweet nothings he’s whispering. “I would save your heart for last, baby. It’s your best part.” Your body trembles as he reaches up, and kisses right above your heart. Your racing heart. “I was listening to your heart while you were asleep. I’ve wanted to do that for so long, it sounds incredible…” Why is he doing this? Does he just want to fuck you? Is this a sick fetish? You feel your throat tighten up, about to cry. Your tears soak the blindfold on your eyes. His breathing is becoming frantic. What is he going to do? Oh my god.

“I’m sorry baby, I can’t help myself.” He whines and a hand pushes your waist forward, then both snake behind to unclasp your bra. You finally try to scream a refusal, and shake violently in your seat, apparently scaring him off, since his hands immediately retreat. “... I’m sorry. You still need time to, uh, get used to being here. I’m so sorry, baby.” Yet he didn’t care when he cut your thigh? What kind of morals does he have?

Oh yeah, none.

There’s no point in screaming for help, you already know no one will hear you.

“Will this make you more comfortable? Yeah?” The blindfold is ripped off your head, and you blink away the tears forming at your eyes, and squint at rhe sudden brightness. You finally get a good view of your surroundings, and you were right. You are in a basement. A cold basement. The stairs on the side of the room are leading up to a freedom that seems miles away. But upon a better look, this place… It looks more like a room. There's a neatly set bed in the right corner of the room, with a tall lamp and a nightstand, alongside a tv set and a couch not far from it. In the corner of your eye, you can see a chair propped up against a table. Probably a dinner table. You can’t see what's behind you, but from the soft whirring, it might be a fridge. You don’t even want to look him in the eyes, but you take a small glance up and see a small mark of your blood on his lips. You look back down at the floor. He should invest in some sort of carpet, instead of these hard floors.

You try to run through your memories to see if you can recognize him but you don’t. Everything is still so blurry, damn it…

“Is that better, darling?” He smiles and outstretched his arms, exclaiming happily. “Welcome to your new home!” Not if you have anything to do about that. “I’m sorry for my, uh, behavior earlier. I was too excited. But I just…” He sighs dreamily. “I finally get to have you here with me, baby.”

…God. Might as well ask him some questions.

“Hmm? Why did I bring you here? He messes with the knife, in his hands, staring at the bloody point. “So I can have you here with me, baby…” He brings the tip of the knife to his mouth, licking it up and down. You watch the blood become planted on his tongue, nausea filling your stomach. It’s even worse once you can really see it. “I-I’ve been admiring you for so long, for months now, baby…” He tilts his head and seemingly stares into your soul, grinning. “I didn’t think this far into it, I’m not even sure what we’re going to do today, hmm…” His eyes become lost in yours as he looks at you thoughtfully, but you wince and break the contact you two had. A small snap of his fingers brings your attention back to him. “Oh, how about I make your dinner, right now? I-I’ll even make your favorite!”

You don’t want whatever he’s going to make. You don’t want to even be in the same room as him. Your throat tightens up with anger and the tears start to flow down your cheeks. His eyes stare down at you in pity, and a certain sadness.

“Oh, you don’t need to cry now…” He leans down and kisses a tear off your cheek, and you jerk your head away. His laugh makes you sick, it sounds so sinister. “You’re so funny darling, you don’t have to fight me you know.” His tongue laps up the tear that had just rolled down your cheek, up to the corner of your eye. He kisses you again and again on your cheek, to the point where he can’t get enough of you. “You’ll get used to it anyway, we can- Ah, no. We will be so happy together…” He purrs and plants a kiss on the top of your head, petting it softly. “Here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to go upstairs and make dinner, it won't take too long, okay?” He rubs your inner thigh, taking a glance down at the dripping wound. A small pool of blood has dripped down onto the chair. “I’ll… I’ll get a bandaid for that too.” He seems hesitant to look at the cut, but he suddenly drops down on his knees again and sets a rough hand on your thigh, “Let me help you clean up, okay?” He has a short fit of his insane chuckling as you stare at him lick up your blood, refusing to touch the wound this time. Is he scared of infecting it? Ah, no, he was just licking up the dripping blood first. You watch and feel his tongue swirl around the cut and you wince at the small stinging feeling. How disgusting.

Disgusting, disgusting, disgusting. What a horrible fucking man, how sick.

You have to fight the urge to throw up again once he sticks his tongue out, showing the bloody mess all over it. Some of it is even on his lips. He kisses your inner thigh, leading to your cunt, and he leaves a small, bloody kiss mark. With a small lick of his lips, he stands back up, brushing his pants off, and a dreamy groan leaves his mouth, seemingly involuntarily. His hand rubs your cheek affectionately, and you try your best not to go ahead and bite him. I guess it's true that you can’t bite the hand that feeds you. At this point he decides whether or not you get to eat or drink.

But not your fate. That's up for you to decide.

“I’ll be back with dinner, okay?” He chirps happily and bounds up the stairs, giggling to himself like a stupid schoolgirl. “I won’t take long!” You watch the door to freedom open, the light streaming ever so slightly into the basement, before the only way to freedom is shut off again, with a couple loud clicks of the several locks he set in.

He couldn’t even tell you his fucking name, my god.

part 2 is here!

[levisolace]

[8] Expendable Hearts (Levi x F!Reader)

Chapter 8: New Perspective

WC: 8,434 Chapter Warnings: none Summary: Everyone in Levi's life knows he only ever dated one girl and that she left him wrecked, bitter, and heartbroken. Many years later, she's back in his life and he doesn't know what to do. Note: unedited lol

story masterlist | prev chapter > next chapter

The morning air bites at your fingers as you clutch two steaming cups outside the coffee shop, their warmth the only buffer against the chill creeping up your spine. You hadn’t expected your nerves to be this frayed, but standing here, a cup of tea and coffee in hand, you feel oddly exposed. It’s a simple gesture, a peace offering at best—but when it comes to Levi, every step feels like it’s weighed down with history.

Steeling yourself, you inhale, letting the brisk air fill your lungs and remind you why you’re here. Your mind replays the argument from his apartment, the tension that’s lingered for days, and the faint glimmer of hope you’ve felt since. 

“It’s just tea,” you whisper to yourself, as if saying it aloud will lessen the stakes.

You walk into the towering building of Stohess Stone Group, hot cups in hand, only to stop dead in your tracks at the sight before you. You’d heard whispers of Levi’s success in passing, fragments of conversation that hadn’t fully registered until now. But standing here, you can feel the sheer presence of it—a sleek, multi-story glass facade, bustling with employees, each corner immaculate and efficient, embodying Levi’s uncompromising standards.

You feel small, oddly out of place, your surprise quickly turning to something closer to awe as you take in the surroundings. Seven years had passed since you’d been here, seven years in which you’d barely had a glimpse into this part of his life. And in that time, he’d built… all of this?

As you make your way inside the building, everything feels slightly surreal. Levi’s name is displayed discreetly on polished silver plaques, his signature attention to detail evident in every corner. The sheer scope of the operation is far beyond what you’d imagined; what once started as a single family restaurant had grown into a full-scale food empire.

The receiving lobby was busy and the receptionist gazed at you head to toe when you told her that you’re here for Levi Ackerman. After making a quick call, she gives you a card pass and tells you the floor to head to. 

Arriving at his office lobby, you’re greeted with his wide-eyed assistant, Connie, who casts a curious glance at the two cups in your hands but says nothing. 

“Oh! Miss? You’re here for Sir Levi?” He asks, ever so cheerful. 

“Yeah. I’ll just give him this. Or if he’s busy I can just drop them off here,” I tell him. 

He types for a second at his computer before glancing at you. “He’s currently on a call. But I notified him that you’re here. You can sit there, ma’am,” he gestures at the couch just beside the door labeled with Levi’s name and his position.

Levi Ackerman 

Chief of Executive Officer  

Thanking Connie, you settled into a seat in the lobby, you noticed the sterile, minimalist decor—the kind Levi would approve of. Every second of waiting feels like it’s adding weight to your chest, thoughts rushing through your mind in a blur. Should you apologize? Should you just leave it at “I wanted to check on you”? Your fingers tighten around the cups as if that warmth might ground you.

Then you hear his voice, low and clipped, coming from around the corner. Levi is leaning on his office door, staring directly at you, sharp in his suit, lighting up the room with an overpowering aura. His eyes glanced down at the cups you’re holding and his brow raises with amused eyes before settling into a guarded, wary expression. You offer a tentative smile, willing yourself to speak through the awkward tension thickening in the room.

“Come in,” he tells you and disappears into his office. 

You follow him inside awkwardly, glancing at Connie who gives you two thumbs up. You smile at him before the door closes, happy at the support of the stranger you’ve only met twice. 

“I figured you’d need something warm on a day like this.” Your voice is softer than you intended, but you hold out one of the cups to him, hoping the simplicity of the gesture might soften whatever invisible wall stands between you. He was already sitting on his desk, staring at the cup in your hand.

Levi’s eyes linger on you, unreadable as ever. He accepts the cup, fingers grazing yours for the briefest moment, and you feel a surge of warmth that has little to do with the coffee. 

“Thanks,” he mutters, but there’s a tightness in his tone, an edge you can’t quite decipher. He doesn’t immediately take a sip, instead setting the cup on his desk as if distancing himself from the gesture, from you.

You watch him carefully, uncertain if you’ve crossed a line. The silence is heavy, stretching between you as he seems to consider you with a mix of suspicion and something softer that he quickly buries. He clears his throat, glancing away as if the wall clock has suddenly become very interesting. “So, what’s all this for?”

Your heart hammers, words tangled on your tongue. You’re tempted to back out, brush it off with a casual excuse, but you force yourself to hold his gaze. “I wanted to… to check on you,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. 

Levi’s jaw tightens, and for a moment, his expression hardens. But he’s listening, his eyes searching your face as if he’s trying to solve a puzzle. It’s enough encouragement for you to continue.

“I know I didn’t handle things right before. I know it was… abrupt,” you admit, struggling to keep your voice steady. “But I really am serious about making it up to you.”

For a beat, Levi doesn’t respond, his gaze dropping to the cup of tea, fingers tracing the lid absently. When he finally looks up, there’s a flicker of something in his eyes—frustration, maybe, or a weariness he doesn’t often show. He gives a small, almost imperceptible nod. “Guess we’ll see.”

It’s not the warm acceptance you’d secretly hoped for, but it’s something. You glance at your wrist watch. The law firm was just a few blocks away from Levi’s building so twenty minutes was more than enough time for you to walk to work. You’ve woken up a little earlier today just to do this small gesture.

“I have to go to work, uh… I’ll see you tomorrow,” you tell him, clutching your bag as you edge toward the door.

Levi’s brow lifts slightly, his arms folding across his chest. “Tomorrow?”

You nod, feeling a strange sort of nervousness you can’t quite place. “Yes… if you like this tea. Or I could get you a different one if you’d like,” you add, holding up the cup you’d just placed on his desk—a blend you’d picked out specifically, thinking it’d suit him.

He glances down at the steaming cup, an eyebrow still arched, and then looks back at you. His expression softens, a small, almost invisible curve appearing at the corner of his mouth. 

For a moment, you stand there, unsure if your eyes were deceiving you, but Levi’s quiet gaze makes it hard to find the truth. 

“I’ll… let you get to your day,” you say, breaking the silence, a bit too quickly. You turn to leave, feeling the warmth from his hand linger on your fingers as you make your way to the door.

“Hey,” his voice stops you right before you exit. 

He eyes the computer screen in front of him, then glances back at you, his gaze level. “If you’re set on getting me something, there's another cafe on this street called Wall Rose Cafe. Their tea doesn’t taste like dishwater.”

Your face warms slightly at his blunt response, though you should’ve expected it. Levi’s honesty was always straightforward, rarely softened by pleasantries.

“Oh,” you say, giving a small nod as you try to cover your surprise. “Well, noted.” You clear your throat, forcing a smile as you add, “I’ll be sure to check it out tomorrow.”

“Good,” he says simply, picking up the cup and taking a sip. “If you’re bringing me tea, might as well make it decent.”

You roll your eyes playfully, feeling a bit braver. “You’re picky, you know that?”

He gives a noncommittal shrug, though a slight quirk of his mouth betrays his amusement. “And you’re late for work.”

“Right.” You take a step back, suddenly aware of the clock ticking away, but still oddly reluctant to leave. “I’ll… see you tomorrow, then. With better tea.”

“Looking forward to it,” he murmurs, his gaze following you as you head out, tone bored but with the faintest hint of a smile in his eyes.

As you step outside the office, Connie is already looking at you with expectant eyes and gazing down at the cup in your hand. He looks satisfied and even relieved when he sees you’re only holding one cup. 

Oh God, Levi must really hate that cafe.

He doesn’t confirm your suspicion. Instead, Connie gives you a big smile and bids you goodbye. “Have a great day, ma’am,” 

“You too, Connie,” I greeted him back before completely heading out. 

You have a big smile on your face as you stroll down the streets of Paradis. Despite the wrong choice of establishment to get Levi’s tea, you would say that it was a mission success, for three reasons. 

First, he accepted you into his office. Second, you saw him drink the dishwasher tea. Third, he had let you bring him another one tomorrow. 

That’s one small step… and another penny for the progress jar.

The next question is, what do you do next?

It was late in the afternoon when you heard a light knock on your office door, pulling you from the pile of paperwork you’d been tackling all day. The coffee from this morning has grown cold and so has your day been. While working, your mind drifts on other ways to prove yourself to Levi. You’ll be giving him his morning tea… but what else? 

Looking up, you found Pixis standing in the doorway, his familiar, calm gaze softened with a touch of concern. He strolled in without waiting for permission, hands clasped behind his back, surveying your desk with a smile that made you feel like he already knew what you’d been dealing with.

“Good morning,” he greeted. “Thought I’d stop by for absolutely no reason at all.”

You returned his smile, gesturing to the small stack of briefs in front of you. “As you can see, just… drowning in case files. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

Pixis chuckled, though there was a glint of sincerity in his gaze that didn’t quite match his lighthearted tone. “I know you’re fine here, that’s not what I’m here for.” He paused, as though choosing his words carefully. “Vanessa’s still convinced you’re handling more than you should. Said you’ve always been good at that.”

You let out a small laugh, though you felt the weight of his concern pressing down on you. “I appreciate it, but you know Vanessa—she tends to worry. Really, Pixis, I’m fine.”

“Well, if there’s anything you need…” His voice softened as he left the offer open, leaving room for you to step into it if you wanted to.

You hesitated, staring at the papers on your desk as you gathered the courage to ask the question that had been lingering in the back of your mind for days. 

“Actually, there is… one thing.”

You met his eyes, feeling a bit exposed but determined to get it out. “It’s something personal. Is that okay?”

Pixis raised an eyebrow, encouraging you to continue. “Ask away.”

You fiddled with the corner of the paper you were holding as you continued. “How do I make it up to a person I owe?” You tried to keep your tone casual, but you could hear the vulnerability creeping into your own voice. 

Pixis considered you thoughtfully, nodding slowly. “Ah. Now that’s a question,” he said, taking a seat across from you. “Depends, I suppose, on what exactly it is you’re trying to make up for.”

You glanced away, unsure how much to reveal. “It’s… not something simple. More like… time lost, chances missed.” The words felt heavy on your tongue, the weight of past decisions pressing down on your shoulders.

Pixis let out a low hum of understanding, his gaze distant for a moment as he gathered his thoughts. Pixis leaned forward, his expression shifting from gentle mentor to shrewd lawyer, eyes sharper, tone more precise.

“Making it up to someone,” he began, voice thoughtful but firm, “is about evidence and consistency. Think of it like building a case. You don’t try to convince the jury all at once; you provide proof over time. Show that your intentions aren’t fleeting.”

You tilted your head, a bit taken aback at the analogy but intrigued. “So… I need to build my credibility with them?”

“Precisely. And remember,” Pixis continued, “people are not obligated to accept your ‘proof’ right away. Sometimes they’ll poke holes in it, question your motives, or, frankly, disregard the effort entirely. That doesn’t mean it’s for nothing. If you’re serious, you keep building—make sure each gesture is as strong as the last.”

He watched you closely, reading your expression like he might in the courtroom. “When they’re ready, they’ll come to their own conclusions. You can’t control that. All you can do is control your commitment to making things right, piece by piece.”

You nodded slowly, his words grounding something inside you. “So, stay consistent. Show I’m serious, and don’t expect instant forgiveness?”

“Exactly,” Pixis replied, a small but encouraging smile on his face. “If you’re honest in your approach, it will speak for itself.”

You let his words sink in, nodding. “I just… don’t know if they’d even want me to try. I’ve already tried to reach out, but it feels like everything I do just makes things more complicated.”

Pixis leaned back, crossing his arms with a gentle smile. “People aren’t always ready to receive an apology or even an olive branch. But that doesn’t mean they never will be. Sometimes, the act of trying is enough, for now. Keep trying—but for them, not for yourself.”

“One more thing,” he added, his tone a shade more serious. “Before you start this… ‘making it up’ campaign, you need to be clear on what you’re apologizing for. Think about it like a prosecutor building a case. They don’t bring charges without fully understanding the offense.”

You raised an eyebrow, curious. “So… identify my ‘faults’ first?”

“Precisely,” he said, nodding. “A good prosecutor considers the perspective of the other party, the context, and how the situation affected them. If you can’t see that, your efforts might come across as shallow or self-serving. It’s not just about saying ‘sorry’—it’s about knowing what you’re sorry for and owning it.”

He paused, looking at you intently. “Approach it with that kind of clarity, and it’ll carry more weight. You can’t rebuild trust if you don’t understand where it broke.”

A weight settled over you as his words sank in, each point resonating. “That makes sense. So… I need to look at this like a case. Understand what happened, own my part, and then work on mending things.”

“Exactly,” Pixis replied, a proud glint in his eyes. “Trust comes from transparency and understanding. You’re a lawyer—you know this. Just… apply it there.”

You felt an unexpected sense of relief in his words, as though he’d managed to simplify the knots you’d been tying yourself into. “Thank you,” you murmured, the weight on your chest feeling just a little lighter.

Pixis gave you a gentle nod, his voice warm. “And if there’s ever anything else weighing on you, I’m here for that too.” 

Pixis leaves after a few more words about work and you resume your responsibilities with a different weight filling your chest, this time accompanied by nerves. 

You know exactly what to do next. 

You arrive at the dimly lit bar after a long day, the sounds of quiet chatter and clinking glasses grounding you as you scan the room for Erwin. When you spot him in the back corner, he raises a hand, his familiar calm presence making you feel both comforted and nervous.

As you settle into the seat across from him, he offers a warm smile. “It’s good to see you,” he says, nodding at the drink he ordered for you, which sits untouched in front of you. “It’s been a while.”

You return the smile, grateful for the ease he brings. “It really has. How’ve you been, Erwin? Work still as relentless as ever?”

He lets out a soft chuckle. “Relentless is an understatement. But I can’t complain. Keeps me sharp.” You exchange small talk for a while—about his cases, mutual friends, the ever-changing city. 

“How is the underground? Are you still certain about not accepting my offer to relocate you?” He asks.

I nod, a gentle smile. “I’m sure, Erwin.” 

It’s easy to fall into a comfortable rhythm with Erwin, but there’s a lingering tension in the air, the weight of your true purpose hanging between you both.

After a while, Erwin’s gaze sharpens slightly. “I appreciate the catch-up, truly, but something tells me there’s more to this meeting than a stroll down memory lane.” His tone is gentle, but his piercing gaze reminds you of why he’s respected in the courtroom. “So, tell me… What brings you here tonight?”

You take a deep breath, your fingers gripping the glass in front of you. Meeting Erwin’s steady gaze, you feel the weight of what you’re about to ask settle in your chest.

“I need to know,” you say, voice quieter than you intended but filled with resolve. “I need to know what happened to Levi after I left.”

Erwin’s gaze softens as he takes in your words, though his expression remains unreadable. He shifts slightly, and there’s a flicker of hesitation in his eyes, the kind you rarely see from him. He taps a finger against his glass thoughtfully, then leans back, weighing his next words.

“Honestly, Greenie…” he begins, letting out a breath, “I’m not sure I should be telling you this. I think you know that, too.”

You lower your gaze, guilt pooling in your stomach. “I know,” you admit quietly. “I know I don’t deserve to know but…” You look back up at him, hoping he can see the sincerity in your eyes. “Please, Erwin.”

He studies you for a long moment, his expression softening, as if he knows something you’re hiding. Erwin was a good read of personality. It’s one of the things you’ve always admired about him. There’s always something hidden behind his gaze and one will never know what he’s truly thinking. If you weren’t his friend, you’ll be terrified of him.

Finally, he sighs, resting his hand on the table, his tone gentle yet cautious. “Alright,” he says, nodding slowly. “I’ll tell you.” 

It was a cold evening in Paradis, one of those early autumn nights where the air held the scent of fallen leaves and the city lights glimmered against the fading sun. Erwin stood with Levi on a quiet street corner, looking up at the windows of the last apartment they had been directed to, hoping this might be the one. They had asked every mutual friend they could find, visited addresses she once mentioned, and had even gone to the edge of nearby towns, clutching at any hint of where you might have gone. But each lead had led to nothing—an empty apartment, a vague rumor, a number no longer in service. 

Levi looked down at the ground, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, shoulders drawn tight. Erwin glanced over, noting the lines of fatigue that had settled beneath Levi’s eyes, darker and more pronounced than ever before. They’d been searching for weeks, occasionally with Hange, staying out late after their newfound work, making up excuses to leave early in hopes of catching another lead. Each dead end only seemed to make Levi grow more closed-off.

“Maybe she’s just… done with us,” Levi muttered, almost as if he was saying it more to himself than to Erwin. “She could’ve contacted us if she wanted to.”

Erwin crossed his arms, frowning slightly. “Maybe. Or maybe she doesn’t know how to. You know her better than anyone—she doesn’t run unless she feels she has to.”

Levi’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing. Instead, he kicked a loose stone on the ground, watching it skitter across the street. 

“If she didn’t want to be found, we wouldn’t find her,” he said finally, his voice brittle, stripped of hope. “And I’m not forcing myself into her life if she doesn’t want me there.”

Erwin nodded, though he felt a deep sense of disappointment settle within him. He had been the one encouraging Levi to keep searching, to wait a little longer, but even his optimism had worn thin. He could see that Levi was nearing the end of his patience, hurt turning to frustration. There’s only so much three young people can do without much connection and power.

They walked in silence for a while, neither of them willing to voice the truth that had settled between them—that this was the end of their search. In his mind, Erwin tried to picture how different things might have been if they had found you, if they’d had a chance to understand why you left so suddenly, why there hadn’t been a single goodbye. But, as the night grew colder and the city quieted, that vision faded into the shadows of the past.

Levi stopped at the edge of the street, glancing back one last time at the distant apartment building. His voice was barely audible when he spoke. “If she ever comes back… she’ll know where to find me.”

With that, he turned, and Erwin followed in silence. Neither of them spoke the rest of the way, each lost in their own thoughts, coming to terms with the absence of someone they had both held close.

“He still hasn’t come out.” 

Kuchel’s worry is evident in her face as she lets Erwin and Hange inside their home. 

It was late in the evening when Erwin and Hange arrived at Levi’s home, after receiving an unexpected message from Kuchel, who explained that Levi had been “lost” for weeks, having quit his corporate job, barely leaving his room except for essentials like bathing and eating, barely that is. She’d sounded concerned, her words tight with worry, so Erwin and Hange didn’t waste a moment before coming over.

Hange rapped on Levi’s door enthusiastically, shooting Erwin a look of encouragement as she called out, “Levi! You better let us in, or I’m picking the lock.”

There was a pause before slow footsteps approached, and the door creaked open just enough for Levi to look at them, his expression unreadable but clearly worn. 

His dark hair was tousled, shadows under his eyes, and his clothes had a look of having been slept in. Without a word, he stepped aside to let them in.

The apartment was dim, the curtains drawn, casting the room in muted gray light. His room is as clean as ever. In fact, it was so clean that it looked like all he’s been doing is cleaning. 

“Looks like you’ve been keeping busy,” Hange said, trying for levity, though her voice softened when she saw the state of him.

Levi shrugged, sinking into the couch and rubbing his temples. “Stop being dramatic,” he muttered, glancing away. “Ma’s worried for nothing. I just don’t see the point in doing corporate work that means nothing.”

Erwin watched him, leaning against the wall. He understood Levi’s frustration all too well; the feeling of potential without a purpose was a burden. But seeing Levi so defeated, so unlike the determined, resolute person he’d always known, stirred something protective in him. 

“Then maybe it’s time to find something that does matter to you,” Erwin suggested gently. “You’re not the type to sit still. There’s plenty out there you could do—ways to build something meaningful.”

Levi’s jaw clenched. “Like what?” he challenged, though the sharpness in his tone was more about his own frustrations than any real anger toward them. “People like me… we don’t exactly have places lined up for us.”

People like me… 

Erwin wasn’t exactly sure what that meant. Levi was always a neutral person. He was never blatantly insecure or unmotivated. He was an achiever without much purpose but that didn’t mean what he was doing was pointless. He’s always done good—what was right and responsible. And yet after college, it seemed like Levi lost his way. He doesn’t know entirely but he has a slight idea why. 

Hange, ever the optimist, jumped in, sitting beside him. “Don’t be like that, Levi! You’ve always had a knack for seeing potential in things no one else notices. All those places we used to hang out in? You were the one who found them, the one who convinced us there was something worthwhile in the quiet streets of Paradis.”

Levi looked at her, as if trying to gauge if she was being serious. Erwin nodded, backing her up. “Maybe you don’t need someone else’s vision or corporate ladder. Maybe it’s time to work toward something you care about.”

Levi’s gaze fell to the ground, a flicker of something thoughtful passing over his face. The weight of Erwin’s words seemed to settle on him, cracking the shell of apathy he’d built around himself. He stayed silent, the three of them falling into a comfortable quiet.

After a while, Hange leaned back, giving him a gentle nudge on the shoulder. “We’re here for you, you know? Whatever you decide.”

Finally, Levi looked up, giving a faint nod, and Erwin felt a small spark of relief. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. And sometimes, all you needed was the right kind of nudge to help you see things in a new way.

“It just feels…” he stares at nothing in particular. “I just feel like doing nothing for a while.”

Erwin and Hange look at each other, a glance that casts worry for their friend. 

It was Erwin that spoke first. “That’s fine too.”

“But take care of yourself,” Hange scolds. “Have you been eating at all? Look at yourself. You know what? I’ll bring you cake tomorrow. One of my co-researchers…”

Whatever Hange was babbling about, Erwin can see that Levi has already tuned out. He’s lost in his thoughts, staring at an empty spot on his desk. Erwin knew it all too well. It was your spot whenever the four of you would hang in his room. You were always there, doodling away while contributing your thoughts on whatever conversation you would have. You would even leave sticky notes on his computer monitor. 

Despite not mentioning your name for a while now, Erwin knows how much you still affected him. 

Erwin had just stepped out of the cab when he spotted Levi in an unexpected scene. Instead of finding him waiting tables or clearing dishes inside the restaurant, he was outside, standing on a ladder in front of a neighboring restaurant. With practiced, unhurried movements, Levi was adjusting an old, flickering light above the restaurant’s front sign, his face set in concentration.

Curious, Erwin watched as Levi tightened a screw, testing the sign’s stability before he climbed down, wiping his hands on a rag. He exchanged a few words with the owner, who was standing by, clearly grateful and a little awestruck. Levi, for his part, barely acknowledged the thanks, nodding curtly and giving the sign one last look.

Erwin approached just as Levi stepped back to admire his handiwork.

“Helping out the neighborhood now?” Erwin asked, amusement lacing his tone.

Levi looked over his shoulder, surprised but unruffled. “Didn’t expect you to see this,” he muttered, folding his arms. But despite his gruff tone, there was a quiet pride in his gaze as he looked back at the small restaurant with its newly lit sign.

“People going in have been slow lately. Figured if every place on this street started looking decent, the whole block might benefit,” Levi explained, almost as if defending himself. “No one comes to just one restaurant. But if the whole street looks appetizing…” He let the thought hang, shrugging.

Erwin chuckled, impressed. “So, you’re turning this into your project.”

Levi’s lips twitched, a faint smile forming. “I’m not working corporate, am I?” he said dryly. “Might as well put in work where it actually matters. I help them out, they help each other. A good street can make a good city.”

Erwin was silent for a moment, realizing the scope of Levi’s quiet vision. It wasn’t just about Kuchel’s restaurant or his own pride—it was about building something lasting for others. And, perhaps, it was his own way of finding purpose again.

He clapped a hand on Levi’s shoulder. “You’ve got something good here, Levi,” he said sincerely. “Don’t stop.”

Levi glanced at Erwin, the faint smile still lingering. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Have you been sleeping?” Erwin asked. 

He gives Erwin a look that answers the question without words. Erwin sighs. Levi hasn’t looked like he slept a wink for a year now. He always had a bit of insomnia during college but he hasn’t seen Levi look this bad. 

For the next few months, Erwin watched as the transformation took hold slowly but surely. At first, it was just a handful of minor changes—new signs, updated menus, a fresh coat of paint here and there. 

Levi, in his own understated way, had approached some of the marketing majors they knew from college, enlisting their expertise on layout, color schemes, and branding. The little adjustments began to ripple through the street, breathing life into what had once been a quiet, almost forgotten corner of Paradis.

By the end of the first year, a buzz had started building around Stohess Street. More foot traffic poured in each night, drawn by the inviting glow of revamped signs and the aroma of dishes that hinted at something special. 

The neighboring restaurant owners, some of whom had barely spoken to each other before, began to work together, their offerings complementing one another to create a destination rather than just a collection of eateries. Levi had somehow managed to unite them with a shared vision, each business supporting the others to make the entire street shine.

Two years in, Erwin found himself standing at the heart of what had become a bustling night-life and food hub, a far cry from the quiet, almost deserted block it had once been. Strings of lights crisscrossed the alleyways, live music spilled from corners, and patrons filled every available seat along the street. Stohess had transformed into a staple for locals and visitors alike.

Erwin spotted Levi moving through the crowd, his usual stoic expression softened by the faintest hint of satisfaction as he checked in on a few of the restaurant owners. There was no outward display of pride or excitement—just Levi, content to remain in the background, watching the street flourish.

As Erwin approached, Levi gave him a nod. “Didn’t expect all this to work out, did you?” he said, a glimmer of smugness barely noticeable in his tone.

Erwin chuckled, shaking his head. “You always did surprise us, Levi. Look at what you’ve built.” He gestured around, the bustling scene speaking for itself.

Levi looked down the lively street, a rare, small smile crossing his face. “Maybe it’s not so bad,” he admitted. 

And in that moment, Erwin realized Levi had found something he’d been missing for a long time—a purpose, a vision, and, most importantly, a place he could call his own. 

As Levi and Erwin stood at the edge of Stohess Street, the glow of the lights illuminating their quiet corner, a sleek car pulled up alongside them. 

They both turned, watching as the door opened and a woman stepped out. For a fleeting moment, both of them stiffened, their hearts catching in their chests. She moved with a familiar confidence, the way she tilted her head and surveyed the bustling street bringing back memories that neither of them had fully laid to rest.

But then, under the streetlights, her features came into full view. She wasn’t you.

Levi’s shoulders slumped ever so slightly, his gaze hardening as he realized the truth. Erwin saw his friend’s face shift, the initial spark of something—hope, maybe?—vanishing just as quickly as it had appeared. Levi looked away, as if disappointed in himself for even thinking, for a split second, that it could have been you.

They both fell silent, a heaviness settling between them. They didn’t talk about you, didn’t dare bring up the memories or the ache that lingered despite the years that had passed. Levi crossed his arms, his gaze fixed on some distant point down the street, his jaw clenched. Erwin knew that look, the one that masked more than Levi would ever let on. It was the look of a man trying to keep something buried.

The sounds of laughter, clinking glasses, and bustling conversation filled the air around them. Yet Levi stood still, somehow detached from the lively scene he’d helped create. Erwin saw it clearly now—the street had grown, blossomed into something remarkable, but the empty place in Levi’s life had yet to be filled.

Erwin placed a hand on Levi’s shoulder, just for a moment, a silent gesture that spoke more than words ever could. Levi didn’t acknowledge it, but Erwin could feel the tension under his friend’s rigid stance, the weight of memories he carried with him daily.

They turned back to the street, side by side, as the night wore on. And in the midst of all Levi had built, Erwin saw the truth: you still lingered, a quiet presence in Levi’s life that even success couldn’t erase.

The dim light of the bar feels almost comforting as you lean back in your seat, weighing Erwin’s words. It feels like he’s letting you hold a mirror up to your actions, confronting the damage you once convinced yourself was necessary.

Taking a deep breath, you finally say, “I don’t think I ever understood what Levi needed. At that time, I thought… I thought walking away was the kindest thing I could do.” You grip your glass tightly, afraid to meet Erwin’s gaze. “I was selfish, thinking I was sparing him, sparing us both.”

Erwin’s voice is soft but firm. “It’s not uncommon to think that leaving will cause less pain in the long run. But Levi doesn’t think that way. He values the people in his life who stay and fight. You were one of those people, until the day you weren’t.”

You wince, the words stinging more than you expected. “I was scared, Erwin,” you admit. “Scared that if I stayed, I’d be holding him back… dragging him into something he didn’t ask for. He deserved better than what I could give him at the time.”

Erwin’s blue eyes narrow, studying you. “Did he ever tell you that? That you were holding him back?”

You shake your head. “No. But I felt it. The things I was struggling with… I knew he couldn’t fix them. And I thought if I left, he’d be able to thrive. Be better without me.”

Erwin sighs, a bit of frustration flickering across his face. “Levi isn’t the kind of man who would let something like that stop him. You were part of his life by choice, and if there were struggles, he’d have faced them with you. But when you left without an explanation, you made the choice for him, and he had to live with that silence.”

The truth of his words hangs heavy between you, and your shoulders slump under the weight. “Maybe… I just didn’t want to face the possibility that he’d choose me, even knowing how broken I was.”

Erwin leans forward, his eyes softening. “Sometimes we run from the things we’re afraid to confront in ourselves, thinking it will protect others. But Levi never wanted perfect. He wanted real, no matter how flawed.”

Silence settles over you both for a moment. You take a long, steadying breath, then look up at him, finally finding the courage to ask, “Erwin, were you… were you ever angry with me for what I did?”

Erwin regards you thoughtfully, folding his hands on the table. “I won’t lie. At first, I was angry. Not because you left, but because of the way it all happened. Levi… he doesn’t let many people in. So when someone does get in, they mean everything. And when you disappeared without a word, it left a wound I didn’t know if he’d ever heal from.”

You wince, a pang of guilt tightening in your chest. “I never wanted him to feel like that. I thought he’d move on faster, that he’d be better off…”

“He’s not the type to move on from people so easily,” Erwin says quietly. “Even now, years later, I don’t think he has. He might seem distant and cold sometimes, but he feels everything deeply. He just doesn’t show it to the world.”

You feel a lump in your throat. “Do you think he still hates me for what I did?”

Erwin shakes his head slowly. “I don’t think he hates you. Resentment, sure. But hate? No. If he hated you, he wouldn’t have been searching for you for so long after you left.”

The revelation hits you hard, making you swallow back the sudden surge of emotion. You remember those days, how desperately you wanted to reach out, but you convinced yourself it was better not to. Besides, you literally had no time to do so.

“I… I had no idea,” you murmur, guilt gnawing at you.

Erwin gives you a sympathetic look. “Levi doesn’t talk about it. Even now, he doesn’t bring it up. I think he’s tried to bury it, but with you back in town, it’s clear he hasn’t forgotten. And he’s not the only one.”

You hold your breath, searching Erwin’s face for a glimmer of understanding. “You mean… you?”

He nods slowly, his expression thoughtful. “I don’t think I was as affected as Levi, but you were our friend too. And friends don’t just vanish like that without leaving something behind. It made me feel… powerless. It was hard, not knowing why you left, not knowing if it was something we did or… if you were okay.”

The gravity of what you left behind settles over you, and the shame feels heavier than ever. The Erwin you knew was always confident with himself. He knows the solution to every problem. He was that guy who people would come to if they ever needed any help. But when you left, he probably felt helpless that he couldn’t find you.

 “I’m sorry, Erwin. I really am. I thought I was doing the right thing, but… I know now I hurt you too.”

Erwin places a hand on your shoulder, a small, reassuring smile on his face. “We all make choices we think are right in the moment. And I can see you’re trying to make things right now. Just remember… with Levi, you can’t gloss over anything. If you really want to make amends, you’ll need to confront the truth, however difficult.”

You nod, letting his words sink in. “I understand.”

Erwin’s gaze is steady, full of the calm wisdom he’s always had. “Then maybe it’s time to stop running and start facing things. And know that whatever happens, you’re not alone in this.”

A faint sense of relief washes over you. For the first time in years, you feel like you’re not running from the shadows of the past. You’re facing them, with friends who understand, and a chance—no matter how uncertain—to finally make amends.

Erwin takes a deep breath, his gaze distant, as if recalling something heavy he’s held back for too long. He studies you for a moment, the weight of his expression unreadable, before finally breaking the silence.

“There’s something you should know,” he says, his voice low and careful. “I didn’t mention it because… well, Levi would never bring it up and it still pains me to remember that night. But if you insist to know what he truly went through, then you should know this.”

Your pulse quickens, dread pooling in your stomach as you lean forward, bracing yourself for what’s coming.

Erwin’s eyes meet yours, steady but shadowed. “He worked himself to exhaustion, day after day, building the life he thought you left to find. Every late night, every difficult decision—it was all for you. He hoped that… if he could make something of himself here, you’d eventually come back. It was his way of holding onto you, even if he’d never admit it.”

You swallow, guilt creeping in as Erwin’s words sink in. “But I didn’t know… I didn’t think he…”

It’s like a curse. Levi loves so deeply that you never deserved him. You could live a thousand lives but never deserve Levi. Those words you said that night… it haunted him for years. You now understand that you could apologize for the rest of your life but never recover that time that he had lost for you.

“He doesn’t think you cared anymore. He started to never believe you'd look back after you left.” Erwin pauses, his words heavy. “But here’s the thing. When he finally realized that everything he built wouldn’t bring you back, he felt like he’d lost himself. You were a part of everything he’d made—every decision, every sacrifice. And once he accepted you weren’t coming back, he felt… lost.”

The weight of Erwin’s words presses down on you, and you struggle to find something, anything, to say. But no words came.

“He won’t say this, but deep down, he resents himself just as much as he resents you,” Erwin continues, his voice soft but steady. “Because he doesn’t know who he’s become without you. And even though he’s successful, respected… he’s haunted by the thought that he turned into someone he never wanted to be—all for someone who left.”

You look away, fighting the sting in your eyes as Erwin’s words wash over you, exposing the ripple effect of a choice you’d thought was yours alone to carry.

Erwin leans back, a quiet sadness in his eyes. “I know it’s not easy hearing this. And it’s not fair for me to say you owe him anything. But you asked, and I think you deserve the truth. He’s been hurt, but that doesn’t mean he’s closed off. He just… doesn’t know how to reach you anymore. That’s where you come in—if you still want to try.”

The weight of Erwin’s words is too much. You feel your throat tighten, your vision blurring as tears rise to the surface. Without saying a word, you push back your chair, grabbing your things in a hurry.

“Wait—” Erwin’s voice is soft, tinged with concern, but you can’t bear to look at him. You manage to force a small, choked “I’m sorry” before turning away and heading toward the door.

Once outside, you let out a shaky breath, the cold night air biting against your skin. You keep walking, not caring where, just needing to put space between yourself and everything you’ve just heard. The thought of Levi building his entire life around a hope you unknowingly destroyed makes your heart ache in a way that’s almost unbearable.

The city lights blur around you as you make your way through the streets, trying to process the enormity of what Erwin revealed. You’d never intended to hurt Levi this deeply. 

But now, knowing the truth… it feels like the weight of your choices has finally caught up with you. And with the overwhelming emotions, you feel the bile rising from your throat, making you hurriedly run to the nearest trash bin you could find in the street. 

Back in the dimly lit bar, Erwin sighed, setting his glass down with a quiet clink. The amber glow of his whiskey caught the low light as he lifted it, taking a slow, thoughtful sip. The bitter warmth washed over his tongue, and with it came the memories of that night—a night he hadn’t let himself linger on for years. 

He could still see Levi, slumped and worn, the fire in his eyes dampened as he poured out his heart. The weight of it all settled on Erwin’s shoulders, the burden of knowing just how deeply Levi had been affected.

It was late, the celebration from Stohess Stone Group’s one-year anniversary winding down. The city lights cast long shadows down the quiet streets as Erwin walked toward Levi’s apartment, the night air cool and still, with only the occasional hum of passing cars to break the silence. He’d noticed Levi slipping out early from the party, but the exhaustion on his friend’s face spoke volumes—it had been a relentless year of building, strategizing, and pouring every ounce of energy into making the vision a reality. Levi’s efforts had paid off spectacularly, but the toll it took was visible to those close enough to see it.

As Erwin reached Levi’s door, he noticed it was ajar, the dim light from inside spilling out into the hallway. He hesitated for a moment, then gently pushed it open, letting himself in. Levi’s apartment was stark, devoid of personal touches, almost impersonal in its precision. And there, sitting slumped on the couch with an empty bottle at his feet and another half-finished one in hand, was Levi.

The sight took Erwin aback. Levi never drank like this—not even after their hardest days. His usually sharp, calculating gaze was unfocused, eyes glassy and lost as he stared at nothing in particular.

“Levi,” Erwin called softly, stepping further inside and closing the door behind him.

At the sound of his name, Levi’s eyes flickered up, barely focusing on Erwin. A bitter smile pulled at his lips. “Erwin… here to give me a pep talk?” he slurred, the words laced with an uncharacteristic edge.

Erwin frowned, moving closer and taking a seat across from him. “I came because I was worried. You left early tonight. Didn’t think celebrating alone was your style.”

Levi scoffed, taking another swig from the bottle, his hands shaking slightly. “Celebrating what? I built something, yeah. Something great, maybe. But does it even matter?” He trailed off, voice dipping into something close to anguish.

Erwin was silent, watching as Levi’s expression twisted, his mask slipping entirely. “This…” Levi gestured around the room, the building, the city beyond, “It was supposed to mean something. I thought… I thought if I made this city better, if I became something here… maybe…” He stopped, his throat working as he fought to put words to the whirlwind of frustration and hurt boiling inside him.

“Maybe she’d come back?” Erwin finished quietly, piecing it together. He’d known there was more to Levi’s ambition than he let on, but he hadn’t realized the depth of it until now.

Levi’s expression darkened, his jaw clenching as he struggled to hold himself together. “She left, Erwin. Without a word. Didn’t even look back. And I thought it was because I wasn’t… enough. That this city wasn’t enough.” He clenched the bottle tighter, his knuckles white. “So I poured everything I had into changing that. Into changing me.”

Erwin felt a pang of sympathy as Levi’s voice broke. This was deeper than anything he’d seen from his friend before. Levi, always guarded, always steady, was unraveling before his eyes.

“I kept telling myself it was worth it. That I was doing something good. That I was becoming someone… worthy.” Levi’s laugh was hollow, devoid of warmth. “But what good is any of it if she doesn’t care? If none of it means anything to her?”

Erwin’s heart twisted, understanding dawning in full. Levi hadn’t built this empire purely for himself. It was a testament to a memory, a ghost he couldn’t let go of.

Levi continued, barely noticing the way Erwin’s hand rested gently on his shoulder in a silent offer of support. “She turned me into this. Into someone people respect, someone people look up to.” His voice was laced with bitter sarcasm. “But she’s not here to see it. Doesn’t even know. And now… now I don’t even know who I am anymore.”

A long silence settled over them. Erwin kept his hand firm on Levi’s shoulder, grounding him as he fought to find the right words.

“You’ve done something remarkable, Levi,” Erwin said softly. “You built something lasting, something people rely on. That’s no small feat. But you can’t let her absence take that away from you.”

Levi scoffed, his voice filled with hurt he could no longer hide. “But don’t you see? She’s the reason I started this. And now I’m stuck being someone I don’t even recognize��� all for a person who’s gone.” 

He exhaled sharply, closing his eyes as if that would shut out the painful truth. “I hate it, Erwin. I hate her for leaving. And I hate that I’m still doing this, still becoming this… for her.”

Erwin felt the weight of Levi’s words settle heavily on his own heart. He’d seen Levi push himself to the brink, seen him sacrifice more than anyone had asked of him, and now he understood why. It wasn’t just about ambition or pride—it was the desperate attempt to fill a void left by someone he still loved and resented in equal measure.

He leaned in, his voice gentle but firm. “You have every right to feel this way, Levi. To hate her, to question everything. But don’t let her absence erase everything you’ve achieved. You built this place. You turned that street into something incredible. She may have been the reason you started, but you’re the reason it succeeded.”

Levi let out a shaky breath, his eyes closed as he processed Erwin’s words. For a moment, he looked as though he might break, the weight of his emotions finally becoming too much to bear.

Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, he murmured, “Then why doesn’t it feel like it’s enough?”

Erwin had no answer to that. Not yet. Not right now. But that night, he promised himself that he would for his long time friend.

© levisolace. please do not copy, translate, claim any of my works. my works are cross-posted only on my ao3 account. reblogs, asks, and comments are also greatly appreciated. thank you.

End Note: How do you guys want Y/N to make it up to Levi?