#i really tried to be objective and I hope there will be no hate

[orcelito]

God I don't wanna go to therapy tomorrow. Sick of talking about my feelings in a clinical setting. I do enough psychoanalysis just by myself, and now I gotta sit through it with someone else??? Come on.

[tenok]

.

[lifeinked]

Why I Love Caitlyn, and Why You Hate Her

⚠️ READER DISCRETION: I am not condoning Caitlyn’s actions and behavior, I am simply exploring the depth of her character and explaining what motivated her pursuit of revenge.

There’s no denying the gravity of Caitlyn’s actions as they are unquestionably wrong. However, her character cannot be reduced to these actions alone. This sudden, devastating behavior of hers is shaped by a thread of complex motivations and circumstances, but many choose not to acknowledge this simply because of her elite background. 

Like many others, I initially overlooked the point of the gassing in Zaun, which I think is a crucial thing everyone must first understand before diving into the discourse over Caitlyn's character. 

The Grey, often misunderstood as being used indiscriminately, was strategically deployed against the Chem-Barons to limit collateral damage. Caitlyn chose precision over chaos, targeting those directly responsible for Zaun’s turmoil. Furthermore, Caitlyn didn’t kill the Chem-Barons; she captured them, with net-deploying bullets. While her methods are controversial, they reflect a calculated approach; mischaracterizing her raid as a reckless attack ignores these details.

This isn’t to deny or excuse the fact that Caitlyn did, indeed, gas Zaun. Who’s to say that gas didn’t seep into the streets where innocent Zaunites roamed, harming them in the process? It’s entirely possible that innocents were affected and devastated. However, my brief explanation is only added to gain better perspective over the objectives of the gassing itself.

Now moving on, despite her privileged upbringing, Caitlyn shows a genuine effort to understand and connect with Zaunites. She places her trust in Vi, a Zaunite she’s never met before, to guide her in her search for Silco. Her journey through the undercity opens her eyes to the struggles of its people, challenging her perspective.

In S1E4, when investigating the airship attack, she encounters an undercity resident and reassures him, “I can protect you.” Later in the season, when Vi gets stabbed, Caitlyn encounters someone formerly connected to Vi. He’s grown a distaste over himself due to his appearance, and yet Caitlyn embraces him with compassion and tenderness, as a silent sign of gratitude. Then, she surrenders her cherished firearm—her only means of protection—in return for a healing potion to save Vi. In S1E7, Caitlyn’s heartfelt monologue in her conversation with Ekko perfectly captures her hope and determination: “This city needs healing. More than I ever realized. Please, let me help you.”

When Caitlyn and Vi stand in front of the Council, Caitlyn declares: “Councilors, this is Vi. She was born in the undercity. Even though we failed her in countless ways, she risked everything to show me what life is really like down there. People are starving, sick, ravaged by Shimmer. They live in constant fear of the coordinated efforts of violent crime lords.” This monologue alone shows how Caitlyn embodies optimism, believing in the inherent goodness of people, even Zaunites. It also shows that she is very willing to fight for them; she sees helping Zaunites as an act of bringing justice and equality into this world.

Many overlook the depth of Cassandra and Caitlyn’s relationship, reducing it to a simple narrative of a daughter mourning her mother. However, Caitlyn’s mourning is more layered than that. Throughout her life, she has been rebellious, driven by a desire to uncover the reality her mother tried to shield her from. In S1E4, Caitlyn reflects on this by saying, “She’d do anything to keep me from seeing the real world.” Caitlyn’s defiance wasn’t just rebellion for its own sake—it was a stand for her ideals. She sought enlightenment and understanding, even if it meant stepping outside the privileged bubble her mother built for her. By venturing into the undercity and aligning herself with Vi, Caitlyn rejected her mother's own ideals.

Here's another scene in S1E8 that emphasizes this:

Cassandra: You're a Councilor's daughter. Your actions reflect on the entire body. Caitlyn: My actions? You know what else reflects on the Council? Its citizens living on the streets. Being poisoned. Having to chose between a kingpin who wants to exploit them and a government who doesn't give a shit!

In a way, her actions mirror Vi’s: just as Vi betrayed her people by working with the enforcers, Caitlyn betrayed her own mother by involving herself with Zaunites. Remember: The last time we see Caitlyn and Cassandra interact on-screen is during Caitlyn’s plea before the Council. And in that moment, Caitlyn was fighting to protect the very kind that would soon kill her own mother.

You say that Caitlyn’s drastic shift is unjustified, as she’s only experienced a fraction of the suffering Zaunites have been enduring. But that’s precisely the point! Her transformation shows how personal loss can drive the change of one’s entire character; she’s never experienced loss before which is why it feels so heavy for her. And unlike Zaunites, Caitlyn actually has the power to act on her grief. Zaunites have only known misery their whole lives. When their loved one dies, they know there is nothing more they can do but grieve. They don’t have an inch of the privilege and military support Caitlyn has. If you had given them the same resources as Caitlyn, they wouldn’t hesitate to bring ruin to Piltover. Simply put, they don’t fight Piltovans because they don’t want to, but because they can’t.

When Jinx takes her mother away, her compassionate ideals completely shatter. Having always sought justice and understanding for Zaun, Caitlyn feels deeply betrayed, as her faith in the good within every Zaunite is overturned. Her mother’s death becomes a turning point—driving her to abandon her ideals and adopt Piltover’s disdain for the undercity, finally understanding the resentment many Piltovans harbor.

We also tend to forget that, aside from losing her mother, Caitlyn has directly suffered under the hands of Jinx. Caitlyn was held captive by Jinx in Season 1—and God knows what was done to her during that period. In the tea party scene, we see Caitlyn break down in tears, visibly flinching when Jinx moves toward her. It’s clear that Jinx has traumatized Caitlyn not just once, but twice. These experiences deeply shape Caitlyn’s actions moving forward. The pain and fear she’s endured push her to a place where she’s willing to sacrifice almost anything, even if it means putting a child’s life at risk (Isha's) or severing ties with Vi.

While they share their differences, Caitlyn and Jinx are the perfect example of foil characters. Here’s an instance which proves this: Both allow themselves to be influenced by manipulative, powerful figures all while being in a vulnerable state of mind.

Jinx is haunted by guilt; her attempt to save her family only ended up killing them, leaving her with the crushing weight of self-blame. She clings to Silco, not because he was the father she needed, but because he was the father she wanted. Silco indulged her destructive tendencies, keeping her at an all-time high on the edges of chaos. Fragile and broken, Powder crossed paths with Silco at the right moment; he saw the perfect chance to mold her into someone bewildered, unrestrained, and astray.

Caitlyn has her own Silco: Ambessa, the ruthless Noxian leader with a brutal philosophy of war. Ambessa enters Caitlyn’s life at a pivotal moment, stepping in just as Caitlyn is grappling with the devastating loss of her mother. In a spiral of self-identity, Caitlyn struggles with the weight of Piltover’s expectations and her unresolved guilt over her strained relationship with her mother (as explained in previous paragraphs). Just as young Powder mourns her family, Caitlyn blames herself for the death of her mother. Caitlyn got herself involved with the Zaunites even when she was warned not to, and at the expense of her defiance came the death of her mother. Driven by guilt and a thirst for vengeance, Caitlyn steps fully into her role, declaring in S2E1: “I am a decorated officer. Leader of House Kiramman.”

Jinx and Caitlyn share a tragic parallel: they both lose everyone they hold dear. Jinx loses Vi, Vander, Claggor, and Mylo. Caitlyn is left without Cassandra, Vi, Jayce, Mel, and Tobias. Stripped of their support systems, they are left isolated, with no one to confide in or rely on. They become vulnerable, used as pawns in the larger schemes of Silco and Ambessa’s strategic games.

Caitlyn's inner turmoil is exactly why Ambessa’s manipulation is so effective. Caitlyn is compelled to take revenge, but she doesn’t know how to. And without anyone else to guide her, she places her complete trust in Ambessa's expertise. Ambessa doesn’t just give Caitlyn the authority and power to avenge her mother; she teaches her how to use them to their full potential. She toys with Caitlyn's vulnerability, making her adopt the Noxian values of wrath, bloodshed, and ruthlessness. 

It’s easy to downplay Caitlyn’s grief since she comes from an elite upbringing. While Cassandra Kiramman is laid to rest in a golden casket with a proper burial, countless innocents in Zaun become victims of merciless violence, being left to die on the streets. After the timeskip however, Caitlyn is shown to recognize the moral cost of her actions. Though the series portrays this realization subtly, it becomes evident that Caitlyn is grappling with the inhumanity and immorality of her pursuit of revenge. In S2E4, this internal conflict comes to light during her conversation with Ambessa. When Ambessa attempts to stoke her fury again, Caitlyn disarms her with a piercing question: “Why is peace always the justification for violence?”

Here's another scene that subtly depicts her realization and remorse:

Caitlyn: You're a monster. Why? Why do all this? Singed: Why does anyone commit acts others deem unspeakable? ... For love.

When Caitlyn steps further and sees Orianna, she realizes that Singed's revenge is a reflection of her own: a person grieving the death of their family member. Here, there's a saddened glint in her eyes. She finally understands now, that love and grief made her do things that once seemed so foreign to her. In this case, going against her own principles just to succeed in her revenge.

Caitlyn is now forever haunted by the outcome of her mistakes, but she knows her past cannot be erased. During her confrontation with Jinx in the prison, she admits, “No amount of good deeds can undo our crimes.” While this statement is directed at Jinx, it feels like Caitlyn also holds this against herself for her own wrongdoings. 

Caitlyn’s acts of atonement are done quietly. She’s not good with words; she’s bad at articulating how she feels. Ironically, Vi is much better than Caitlyn when it comes to confronting and vocalizing internal conflict. So instead, Caitlyn’s actions speak for herself. By removing the guards at the prison, she tacitly allows Vi the opportunity to rescue Jinx. She knows Vi will come to save her sister, and yet she lets her. She finally lets go of Jinx and the grudge she held against her, as a silent act of her love for Vi.

And in S2E9, Sevika is shown to be sitting among the Councilors. But thanks to a fan's keen eyes, we find out that she is sat particularly on Cassandra Kiramman's chair (which not many notice). By allowing a Zaunite to occupy her mother's seat, Caitlyn gives them a chance to be rightfully represented, a chance for their voices and suffering to finally be heard. It’s a quiet display of Caitlyn’s evolution and willingness to bridge the divide between Piltover and Zaun.

That said, Arcane’s ending left much to be desired regarding Caitlyn’s arc. The heavy focus on Hextech overshadowed the sociopolitical dynamics of Piltover and Zaun. This is the main reason a lot of hate is thrown toward Caitlyn—there is an act of accountability, but there a lack of consequence. While Caitlyn acknowledges her mistakes, her privileged status keeps her from real repercussions, unlike the tragedy other characters had to face. This is frustrating, even to me, as someone whose favorite character is Caitlyn. Yet, in a way, it realistically portrays the inequalities in our own world—where the elite are often shielded from justice, and repentance is the closest they ever come to redemption.

[bigbuffjoonie]

I am floored. Wow. What a finale!! Now that’s what I call stranger danger lmao! I have never seen the show it was inspired from so I really had no idea what to expect! This was an amazing suspenseful journey. Thank you so much for your work! I loved reading it! 💖

Strangers (Chapter Ten)

Strangers from Hell AU

Series Masterlist

pairing: ot7 x reader

genre: yandere, horror/thriller

word count: 6.7k

warnings (lmk if i missed anything!): unreliable narrator, murder, mature themes, minor character death, obsessive/possessive behavior, emotional manipulation, stalking, bullying, violence against women, blood and injuries, mc has some self-deprecating thoughts, mc is lowkey in denial.

The day stretched on for what felt like hours but in reality was only about two before the sun had finally begun to set. The weather had been so weird, bright and sunny despite the dark clouds looming in the background. Something told you that the storm you sensed coming previously was finally about to arrive - just in time, too.

You had stared out the window of the hotel as Nayeon paced on the floor in front of the bed. She had been mumbling things here and there, reaching for her phone a few times before ultimately changing her mind. She didn’t like to be out of control of the situation, that much you could tell. You had never seen your best friend so stressed - not even during exam week - and you have to admit you didn’t like it. She had always been so sure of herself for as long as you had known her. If anything, this just emphasized the seriousness of the situation.

You’re sure you probably looked too blasé about the situation, a blank expression on your face as you rested your head on your knees. The truth was you just felt numb, having gone through so many emotions these past days already. This past month had taken a tremendous toll on you, the lack of sleep and stress finally catching up to you. You had no idea what the outcome would be after tonight but you found it hard to care. Jail almost sounded better than whatever awaited you both at the residence, but you weren’t exactly ready to go running to the police station right now anyway. Besides, you didn’t want to find out what Namjoon would do if you went against his wishes.

“Fuck it, I’m calling them.” Nayeon finally broke, picking her phone up off the bed and swiping at it.

Keep reading

[honeydewandcake]

TW — Asylum/Hospital setting, mental disorders, medical malpractice

Inspired by Fran Bow, Sparklecare, Pure Trance, and other such things; I had an idea for a Dandy’s World AU that centers around a hospital setting

I feel like a lot of people don’t like asylum or hospital AUs because they are full of exaggerated or misinformed ideas of what mental illness is. I tried not to do that, though I’m not a professional so I still might be wrong about some things. I don’t want to take this idea too far in fear that it might be distasteful, but I do want to share this idea to see if others like it too.

Dandy’s Care is a separate world where, instead of a museum, Dandy and his friends were meant to be for a children’s hospital to treat the sick and ill. They were meant to be comfort characters to patients and were meant to support them during their stay. Like in Dandy’s World, the hospital shut down due to unspecified sanitation issues. Dandy, also known as Dr. Dandicus Dancifer, slowly became more and more starved for activity. He started targeting his friends, making the hospital into an asylum for them. He changed their characters, changing his friends into patients. The toons have no memory of their former self, only knowing their diseased and ill present self.

The staff is made up of the main toons. All of them are nurses and Dandy is the main doctor. They all act like their former selves, though they have no memory. I didn’t want to draw all of them so just imagine Astro and Vee in these uniforms.

Read more to see other toons (not all of them drawn or thought of yet, don’t attack me ;-;) ↓

Razzle and Dazzle, the only ones that I thought of completely because I already drew them before. They’re the reason why I made this entire thing anyway.

They are just experiments by Dandy, who wanted to see if the two could live together if they were attached. They used to love each other, now they don’t. Razzle is no longer looking for comedy, Dazzle is no longer looking for hope. Both are only set on the idea of revenge against Dandy for making them this way.

Life is hard when you can only feel the sensations on one half on your body, they can barely walk and can only stand or sit. They take many painkillers as their wounds take a long time to health properly. They wish they could escape this place and just die already, but they’re stuck and forced to live for as long as Dandy wants.

Razzle is a lot more violent now. He is prone to biting and scratching the staff. He hates doing all the lab tests and medical procedures, he hates being near Dazzle, he hates being stuck in this living hell. Razzle is the reason why they’re not allowed near sharp or blunt objects.

Dazzle became paranoid, scared of any noise that happens. He’s terrified of Razzle because of how violent he can get, he hates him too. Dazzle cries a lot, he cries until he can’t everyday. Dazzle wishes he could just die already, he thinks everything is scary and out to get him.

Shrimpo is thought to be a patient that had anger issues and aggressive tendencies. According to Dandy, he was admitted for being violent in public, although this is only part of the fake story that Dandy gave him. Shrimpo was forced to get a lobotomy, unethical but who cares. Dandy sure didn’t.

He’s still in the recovery phase, so he might be a bit loopy. Once those bandages are off, he’ll be as right as rain. Shrimpo is a wanderer around the hospital as he’s no longer a threat. He’s allowed to leave his room and go out in the play yard but only if a nurse is with him.

Shrimpo doesn’t really have much going for him. His thoughts are scrambled and he only cares for things in front of him. Although the lobotomy made him more passive, it doesn’t mean he’s any better in terms of motivation. Shrimpo certainly has no drive for anything anymore, he doesn’t mind but it gets in the way of his health as well. The staff needs to remind him to go to the dining room to eat or to go take a shower, because otherwise he’ll forget.

Boxten was made to believe that he has had problems with insomnia ever since he was little, of course it’s not true. He takes sleeping pills and melatonin, but it only seems to worsen his nightmares. This makes him skip his doses to avoid sleeping, repeating the cycle over and over.

Boxten is afraid of imaginary things that might get him. He thinks they’ve already in his head, eating away at his brain and giving him nightmares. Of course the only thing the nurses can see is his music box. Boxten has lost all trust in the staff since they couldn’t see or feel the things he can.

In my original notes, it said that Boxten might have psychosis.

Well that’s all the once I’ve drawn, I don’t really have the motivation to make every single toon. I have a couple of ideas though

— Goob somehow survived a terrible accident, but both his arms needed to be amputated making him armless. He suffers from brain damage and internal bleeding. He doesn’t seem to have any change in his personality, still as joyful as ever. Maybe it’s a coping mechanism

— Tisha has severe OCD which damages her mental health. She’s constantly worried about everything that happens around her, making her super aware of her surroundings. She could be a danger to herself and others as she sometimes has very aggressive thoughts but can’t control her actions. She unintentionally hurts herself because of her OCD, such as washing her hands so many times that they start to bleed.

Not for a toon, but I did have an idea for an added addition to the hospital. Maybe there’s a twisted reform center where the staff try and heal twisteds back to their normal self. They would clean the ichor from them but since the ichor is also inside of them their personalities don’t change as much. Twisteds such as Finn and R&D might be too far gone though, they would have to be disabled for life. I might draw this idea because I think it’s kind of cool, I definitely will if people also think this is interesting.

[whokilledsamara]

I loved ur alphabet nsfw with scarletella!!! BUTTT SPECIFICALLY the umbrella one!!! Is it possible to ummm maybe you'd write that whole situation down?? ANDDD I feel like he'd only do it if he's mad n being a lil petty!

MISUSE

a Mr. Scarletella x afab!reader fic. {an: ooo... i like this one.. i have a similar request and i will do both of them. love me some misuse of an object}

warnings! : misuse of an umbrella {handle is inserted, but you get poked with the tip}, bleeding, hatefucking, sadism, afab reader {i can write amab in another request if needed}, bondage, non/dub-con, "forced" blowjob, VERY SHORT FIC

{an : i was super excited to write this one, as soon as i got the notification for this request i had to write it. thank you all for the support! this one could be considered non-con, but its really just hate fucking, reader doesnt say no. sorry this one isnt long, its just a quick thing im writing before i go to sleep}

hiding didn't work. you could hear the static in your head, matter of fact you could see it too. the cold, and slightly damp flooring made your senses all the more tingling, head a bit woozy from all the running. it was innocent really, the man who always happened to be crawling brought you a gift, and in return you gave him a small peck on the cheek. you hadn't thought anything of it, but you saw him. he saw you too.

bold move. he saw it as defiance. doesn't matter if it was innocent or not, he noticed. he notices everything even when you don't know he is there. the moment you saw red flash in the corner of your eye, you knew you fucked up.

why did you touch that stupid umbrella..

hours passed and nothing happened. you assumed everything was fine, and that perhaps Mr. Scarletella had just gotten his feelings hurt, not angry as you had assumed. but your hopes were cut short when you heard him, his voice filled with static and coldness as usual.

"Knees."

the way he said it in his language unwillingly did something to you, though you would never admit it. sighing to yourself, you obey his command and slowly sink to your knees. your gaze is locked on the floor as his eyes glare at you. though you aren't looking at him, you can feel it.

his presence alone makes the room feel thick and uncomfortable, but having his cock shoved down your throat definitely didn't make it any better. it was your fault really. you knew better than to attempt to get past him. his strong hand on your hair made sure you were kept up as high as you could go without actually leaving your knees, his thick length clouding your senses as you desperately tried to choke it down. tears welled in your eyes and all you could see was that sadistic grin that he almost always had on his face, though it was wider this time.

once he had his fill, and so did you, he yanked your head off of him, watching sadistically as you gasp for air. the dried tears on your face only made his heart rate speed up, that shit eating grin never leaving his face.

"You, remove, clothing." he says. not even as a question, but a statement. sputtering and coughing up his leftovers, you grudgingly slip off your bottoms, eyes closed and face flushed with embarrassment. his head tilts and he hums in response, crouching down in front of you.

your body is tense, and your eyes are squeezed tight with anticipation. his long, slender hand makes you shiver at the coldness as he parts your leg, putting you on display for him. a few seconds go by, and just as you are about to open your eyes, you feel a cold poke to your clit. its cold, and strange, making your eyes snap open to stare at the foreign object.

his umbrella.

you start stuttering and looking up at him with a worried expression, the tip of it pressed firmly against your clit. he experimentally moves it back and fourth, making your hips unwillingly jerk from the sensations. your face heats up and you watch carefully as he flips the object around, suddenly pressing the edge of the handle against your opening. "w-what the fuck.. what? that wont fit.. what are you do-" you begin to argue, but are quickly cut off as he pushes it in, using the curled part to his advantage and pushing it as deep as he can. you let out a shriek, thighs trembling and hands firmly planted on the damp ground beside you. he makes a few curious thrusts with it, seemingly getting off on the view, or maybe even feeling it himself.

"a-ah.. hurts.. mngh.." you manage to choke out, your voice a low whine as he twists the handle inside of you. he seems to notice a bit of blood around your opening, only exciting him further as he thrusts it faster. your legs lift slightly and you cry out, his hand shooting to cover your mouth as to not alert the other members. eyes clenched shut, he curves the handle just the perfect amount, that for some reason makes your vision go black for a second as you unwillingly orgasm around the foreign object.

pathetic noises leave your lips, his hand tightening around your lower face as his grin only grows wider. "Good." he mutters, slowly pulling the umbrella out of you. his hand leaves your face and before you can think properly he is pushing the handle into your mouth, effectively making you taste the mix of cum and blood off of it. "Clean." and so you do. you quickly suck off whatever you can, your face tired and worn. he pulls it out of your mouth and pats your head, before static surrounds him.

and hes gone.

{ made by @whokilledsamara }

[marysfics]

In the Glow of Christmas Lights, You Bring Me Clarity

Small one shot of Alexia Putellas x Vision-Impaired!Reader

Fluff

The soft hum of holiday music filled the living room, blending with the faint crackle of the fireplace. The scent of cinnamon, pine, and freshly baked cookies wafted through the air, wrapping the space in warmth and comfort. Christmas lights twinkled along the walls, their colors vivid even through the haze of your vision.

It was one of your bad days. The world was a blurry mess, the details of the room fading into indistinct shapes and shadows. You’d hoped the festive atmosphere might distract you from it, but the frustration lingered like a weight in your chest.

“Need a hand?” Alexia’s voice broke through your thoughts, soft and steady as always.

You turned toward her shape, the dark sweater she wore standing out against the glow of the tree. “I think I’ve got it,” you replied, though your hands fumbled as you tried to string the last ornament onto the tree.

“Hmm,” Alexia hummed skeptically. She crossed the room in a few strides and gently took the ornament from your hand. “Let me help.”

Her touch was familiar, grounding. She guided your hand with hers, lifting the ornament to a higher branch before stepping back. “Perfect,” she said, though you couldn’t tell if it was or not.

“Thanks,” you muttered, your voice quieter than you meant it to be.

Alexia crouched slightly, trying to meet your gaze. “Bad day?”

You nodded reluctantly. “It’s hard to enjoy everything when I can’t… see it.”

Her expression softened, and she reached for your hand, squeezing it lightly. “Close your eyes,” she said.

“What?”

“Just trust me. Close your eyes.”

With a sigh, you did as she asked.

“Okay,” Alexia began, her voice warm and soothing. “The tree is glowing—it’s covered in golden lights, the ones you insisted we use this year. The ornaments are a mix of red, silver, and green. The star at the top is a little crooked because I rushed it, but I think it gives the tree some charm.”

You smiled faintly, her voice painting a picture clearer than your eyes could manage.

“There’s a plate of cookies on the coffee table,” she continued. “Some are burnt—my fault again—but the ones you made are perfect. And the stockings are hanging by the fireplace. Yours looks fuller than mine, by the way.”

You laughed softly. “That’s because you said you didn’t want anything.”

“I lied,” she teased.

Alexia shifted closer, her hand still holding yours. “There’s snow falling outside,” she said, her tone quieter now. “It’s not heavy, just a light dusting, but it’s enough to make everything sparkle.”

Her words painted the scene so vividly in your mind that you felt your frustration begin to fade.

“And you?” you asked. “What do you look like right now?”

She paused, her thumb brushing over your hand. “I’m wearing that sweater you hate—dark green with the itchy fabric. My hair’s a mess because I didn’t have time to fix it after training. And I’m smiling because you’re here, and it’s Christmas, and that’s all I really wanted.”

Your eyes opened, blurring back to reality, but the warmth in Alexia’s voice stayed with you.

“You’re so cheesy,” you said, but there was no mistaking the emotion in your voice.

Alexia grinned, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “Maybe. But it made you smile.”

“It did,” you admitted, squeezing her hand in return.

The room was still a blur, but it didn’t matter as much anymore. With Alexia by your side, grounding you in her world, Christmas felt clearer than it ever had.

Alexia stayed close, her hand in yours, as the warm glow of the fireplace danced across the room. You could feel the unspoken comfort she brought, but there was still a weight pressing against your chest—a mix of anticipation and frustration.

“I, uh…” you started, your voice wavering.

Alexia tilted her head slightly, her expression curious. “What is it?”

You reached into the pocket of your sweater, fingers brushing against the small object hidden there. It was supposed to be her gift, something you’d been planning for weeks. But with your sight so unreliable today, you couldn’t make out the details well enough to hand it to her properly or explain its meaning the way you wanted.

“I got you something,” you admitted softly, pulling your hand back before you fully retrieved it.

Her eyes lit up, a gentle smile tugging at her lips. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know,” you murmured, chewing on your bottom lip. “But it’s… it’s not perfect. And I can’t even—” You stopped, the words catching in your throat.

Alexia’s brow furrowed slightly, concern creeping into her expression. “Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to explain. Whatever it is, I’ll love it.”

You shook your head, frustration bubbling up. “No, it’s not that simple. I wanted to make it special, but I can’t even see well enough to… to make sure it’s right. I wanted to give it to you properly.”

Her hand tightened around yours, her touch steadying you. “You don’t have to do anything perfectly, amor. Just tell me.”

You exhaled slowly, nodding as you finally retrieved the small object from your pocket. It was a delicate silver bracelet, simple yet elegant, with a tiny charm shaped like a star.

“I thought it reminded me of you,” you said quietly. “You’re always this bright, steady presence in my life. Like a star—always there, even when I can’t see clearly.”

Alexia stared at the bracelet, her expression softening as her fingers gently brushed over yours to take it. She held it up, letting it catch the warm glow of the Christmas lights.

“It’s beautiful,” she said, her voice thick with emotion.

“I wasn’t sure if it was good enough,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Alexia shook her head, setting the bracelet down carefully before taking both your hands in hers. “It’s more than enough. Do you know why?”

You shook your head, unsure.

“Because it came from you,” she said simply. “And because you always make me feel like the luckiest person in the world, no matter what. This just proves it even more.”

You felt the tension ease, your chest lighter as her words settled in.

“Thank you,” she said, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to your temple. “I’m going to wear it every day.”

Your lips curled into a small smile, your heart full despite the blurry world around you. Alexia had a way of making everything feel clearer, even when you couldn’t see it for yourself.

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

I want to wish everyone happy holidays and a healthy 2025! Thank you for all the love and support you've all shown my writing- it means the world to me. This might be my last piece for a while, but I always cherish the encouragement and kindness you've all shared. Wishing you all the best in the year ahead! 🎄🎇

[oblique-lane]

hey since you’ve posted two pieces in a row about my boy Scout I was wondering if maybe you could write more your thoughts/your hcs about him? I think he’s really interesting and I don’t often see people realize that he’s more complex that what he seems, like this man just seems very sad inside. i really like your analyses and your takes are some of my favorites

hope you have a good day!

Appreciate it! Although I probably won't say anything particularly new... Okay, let's talk about Scout!

Though he no doubt wears the persona of a confident cool guy, protecting his ego from vulnerability, I wouldn't say there's sadness inside him. More accurate would be fear.

People with sadness baggage are pretty passive and quiet. And Scout's reaction is to hit, run, scare away, cling anxiously to the object of security. That's fear. He's fearful.

He doesn't think about it much, he's a pretty happy guy in the environment he's in. But if something makes him go off the rails and he starts, God forbid, thinking.....

His core fear is not living up to his place in the world. He knows there's a place for him, but for some reason he feels like people think he's not good enough to take it. Anyone better and stronger could take his place at any time. He's on bird's rights here.

Growing up with older brothers, being not good at school, being the smallest and youngest mercenary of the team, this feeling doesn't leave him ever. It's a tiresome inner struggle: "How do I make my stay secure?", "How do I become worthy?"

Falling into this cognitive trap of searching for self validation in the outside world instead of inside of himself, he was doomed to be stuck in ambivalence:

To continue to pretend, risking being exposed as an imposter, or to be sincere and inevitably endure the unbearable pain of rejection and loneliness?

He laughs and taunts and overexplains himself so much. He clings to the only thing he's better than everyone at. He overcompensates; he demands attention and tries to make himself bigger. He hates being alone as it basically feels like being actually pushed off his place in the world. He clings to people but immediately pushes them away for being too dangerously close to finding out his fears. He needs to be with everyone to know and to control what they think about him.

And it never makes him calm down anyway, since all those efforts take a lot of energy. Tiresome to be, tiresome to pretend. And the prize is nowhere near the sight.

This loop of pain will never end, unless he breaks the very core mindset of his. The answer is stepping into this fear, but he can't even think about it! It feels like death! His ego will die and it's going to feel like he's dying as a whole.

A full existential, primal fear of an child to be rejected by his parent. "Not worthy of living".

(Based on the Lise Bourbeau's model of 5 soul wounds: Abandonment)

[d1xonss]

Daryl with a fem reader who’s love language is physical touch? Like whenever they’re cuddling she’s always burying her head into his side or neck. Or another one is acts of service so imagine when they first came to Alexandria she noticed Daryl was the only one in the group who still hasn’t bathed so she offered to do it for him.. he just sits in front of her in the bath while she cleans his hair and scrubs his body

Soap and Bubbles

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Reader

✧ Era : Season 5

✧ Pronouns : she/her

✧ Genre : Fluff

✧ Word Count : 1.1k

AN ~ I’ve been slacking on requests big time:( But recently I got my wisdom teeth removed and the whole recovery has been kicking my ass, so sadly I just haven’t felt motivated to write anything new. Though I’m hoping this lil oneshot makes up for it and you guys don’t completely hate me lol.

Hope you enjoy! xoxox

He was stubborn. You were persistent. It was like when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object. But in the end it was almost painfully obvious who won those battles most of the time.

When the group first arrived to Alexandria; a safe haven that was gifted to you by the grace of God himself, it was no secret that Daryl was one of the first who didn’t trust it. He was constantly tense and on high alert most of the time, when in reality there was never any real danger to begin with. But his thoughts seemed to haunt him, not necessarily because he felt the constant need to protect himself, but because he felt the constant need to protect you.

You were the most precious thing to him, like a delicate flower that he was constantly worried about squishing under his boot if he wasn’t too careful. And just the thought of you being in this unknown place that none of you really knew, it was safe to say it took him a while to even sleep. And it took him even longer to feel comfortable enough to bathe.

After the first few days of getting comfortable in the new community, you couldn’t help but notice that Daryl was the only one who hadn’t taken advantage of the luxury that was given. He hadn’t slept on one of the actual beds, he hadn’t even eaten any of the food that was stocked to the brim in each of the houses. The man just continuously hunted for his own food nearly every single day instead, working for it as if he felt like he had to. And he was one of the last people to use the nice new bathroom that everyone else had been hogging.

It was hard seeing him like this, knowing without even having to ask that he was slightly uncomfortable here. In the end when the place didn’t seem that dangerous, you knew he only really stayed so you had a roof over your head, and that was it. He always seemed to put you first before anything else and it never failed to melt your heart in the best way. But at the same time, you wanted to help him. You wanted to ease him into everything so he could learn to eventually call this place home.

Which is why you ever so slowly tried to coax him into taking a bath. Like a dog who was afraid of water.

“Nah.” was his original answer when you first asked him, that stubbornness really shining through as he put his foot down at the idea. Knowing that he didn’t feel safe enough to be so vulnerable.

But then you offered to help him, and that seemed to change the game as his interest piqued.

So after just a little more convincing, you finally got him into the tub filled with warm water, even adding some bubbles just to make it a little more enjoyable. And although he scoffed at the sight, he clearly wasn’t complaining as he practically melted into the warm water.

You sat yourself behind him as you ran your fingers through his hair, gently massaging his scalp as you cleaned it with a fresh shampoo. His eyes fluttered closed at your softness when touching him, even letting out a satisfied groan or grunt here and there just to let you know how much he was enjoying it. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself every time he did so, dragging the process out just a little bit longer upon seeing how relaxed he was.

Your nails gently scratched his scalp every once and a while which you knew he thoroughly enjoyed, loving the soothing feeling you provided as he slowly came to the conclusion that maybe it wasn’t so bad after all. His muscles twitched as you rinsed the bubbles out of his hair, feeling the warmth running down his back.

A smile stretched across your lips as you looked down at him, “Feel good?”

He nodded slowly as he let out a long and satisfied sigh, keeping his eyes closed as he was certain he could fall asleep within seconds. “Thank you.” he muttered.

Your face softened at his gratitude, “You’re welcome.” your sweet voice spoke, leaning down to place a kiss on top of his head.

He smiled to himself when he felt the touch of your lips, relaxing even more as you continued on for however long you wished. He wasn’t complaining, nor was he going to stop you anytime soon.

You then ran some conditioner through his hair, being able to run your fingers through the full length of it smoothly as you removed all the tangles. It smelled like heaven and it made his hair feel nearly brand new after not having it clean and fresh in so long. You then took your time washing his body, which to him was his favorite part of this whole thing. Your hands worked delicately, watching the soap run down his arms and chest as the remaining dirt just melted off his body.

A few more cuts were now more prominent on his skin as you continued to wash him, making some kind of mental note to help him clean those when he got out of the porcelain bowl. With being on the road for so long you had no idea how long they had been there, now being thankful you had everything you needed to fix him up. Seeing him constantly putting you before him in every single scenario, you wanted to do the same for him whenever you could. Though he was thick headed and usually refused, he did occasionally like being showered with affection like this.

Once you were done and the water was now a bit colder, you opened your mouth to tell him that he should probably get out. But you stopped yourself upon seeing the look on his face, seeing him finally looking content for the first time in months. You figured a few more minutes wouldn’t hurt as you began to drag your nails through his hair again.

“I love you.”

It was so soft you almost didn’t catch it. But the second his words met your ears you couldn’t help but freeze. He had never said that to you before.

Though you knew he always loved you, showing it in the little ways he knew how, you knew he felt a deep love for you that he couldn’t even describe. His actions speaking much louder volumes than words ever could. But now hearing him admit it out loud, you could feel a warmth spreading through your chest as you smiled, continuing to run your fingers through his hair as if to pretend it didn’t affect you as much as it did.

“I love you too.”

~ Thanks for reading!

[rosesnbooks]

Aries placements

Since we are currently in aries season, i wanted to make a post about some of their placements! Hope you enjoy this post, and I'm looking forward to your feedback♈

❤️sun in aries people are vastly different from one another. not all of them relate to the confident image of someone who has the qualities of a leader. they can be shy and dislike lots of attention and responsibility. but i do think most of them are passionate about the things they love and they like to share these with the ones closest to them. also, they are very curious. there is something innocent about them

🌹moon in aries types show the classic traits of aries people that are known to others. the people i know with this placement have an unmatched temper and intensity. they have strong emotions regarding everything, so they either love or hate certain things. i feel like their mothers went through many difficulties in life, and tried to display their strong character. also, people with this placement have a desire to be more masculine, and less sensitive. they have outbursts of strong emotions, especially anger that gets out of their system as soon as it arises. they will be there for you in good and bad times, and you'll appreciate that. but if you cross them, they won't see you in the same light ever again. i've noticed that they love music or anything in the arts. it gives them immense joy and passion that they cannot always show and explore in their everyday life.

💋rising sign in aries have a strong presence wherever they go and people are quick to form opinions about them. they seem passionate, direct and a bit aggressive. women with this ascendant are seen as femme fatale. men seem a bit restless, opinionated, very masculine, and intimidating to some. their appearances vary, but they have some noticeable facial features that demand your attention (eyes esp., and the nose) they look amazing in black, red, and any loud colors. they have so many facial expressions, and it's quite charming and funny. they are a bit loud sometimes

🎬mercury in aries is an interesting placement. a lot is going on in their heads but it depends on the individual whether they'll show this aspect of their personality to the world or not. they have strong opinions and they are not fans of a gray mindset. i'm not saying they view things in black and white only, but they definitely prefer to be 100% sure in things. they are humorous, but at the same time they take things too seriously lol. they prefer direct people and explaining things clearly and concisely, without beating around the bush. they also like to provoke a bit the people they love, with good intentions ofc. lastly, they have to be careful when talking about sensitive topics, and discussing things with people who are sensitive. they must not be too harsh and "objective" since it can be easy to hurt others this way.

💄venus in aries love fiercely and dislike cold people who aren't ready to pursue them bravely and honestly. if you lack interest and manners, they will cross you off their list pretty quickly. they are lots of fun and want someone similar to them in this aspect. i think they can be really loyal as partners once they find someone who fits their criteria. continuous display of commitment and passion is the way to go with them. they are really sensitive actually, so they want someone that makes them feel safe, and someone who would be patient with their emotions.

❤️‍🔥mars in aries are energetic, full of life, passionate (i cannot help myself, this word describes them in a nutshell), like to take the lead, have various ambitions they need to fulfill. their temper is a bit scary at times, so they need to work on that. i feel as if this placement is not that common. they succeed in whatever they have planned in life because of their ambitious and strong mindset.

🎫jupiter in aries will have lots of luck by working on their confidence, saying how they think and feel instead of bottling up their emotions and ideas. pursuing various hobbies, especially those that involve physical activity. they need to relieve their stress as well. also, being spontaneous and brave could provide happines and new opportunities. focusing some of their big energy toward the people they love is also rewarding. the people around them love their enthusiasm and optimism btw.

💌saturn in aries need to watch out for their impulsive nature that dives head first without giving anything much thought. not only could they hurt themselves in this process, but others around them as well. there are consequences to all of our actions. moreover, there is no need to be shy about taking risks and taking the lead, but it's important to do it the right way. like i've said, confidence is key. by working on themselves, they could become unstoppable.

🌹📖🌹📖🌹📖🌹📖🌹📖🌹📖🌹📖🌹📖🌹📖

paid astrology readings

(photos were found on Pinterest)

~Don't take anything too seriously since I am not a professional

[p3sephone]

My baby. (Dark! Ex! Wanda Maximoff x reader)

Prologue

Summary: you are Wanda's ex and you broke up with her a long time ago. Then Wanda decides it's a good idea to become your neighbor and take her baby back, one way or another.

Warnings: this is a dark! Serie about Wanda Maximoff that will contain dark themes such as violence, breaking in, non-con and similar stuff in the future chapters. Every chapter will have its own warnings to be safe. This is pure fiction and this character does not belong to me. Minors are NOT allowed, only +18. Any kind of interactions such as reblogs, comments or likes are much welcome and appreciated. 🤎

Prologue warnings: breaking inside, little use of magic.

Masterlist serie.

"I'm home!" you exclaimed with a smile on your face, closing the door behind you. You were happy to be back, you had a wonderful surprise for your roommate. You were sure that she hadn't suspected anything, after all you hadn't mentioned anything in these weeks and you knew how difficult it was. You had lost count of how many gifts and surprises you had ruined because you often spoke before thinking out of excitement.

But this time you didn't think, as you walked briskly towards the living room. The lights were on, she was surely sitting there on the couch watching some movie. You were already anticipating the scene. Your smile quickly dropped as the gift bag slipped from your hand and fell to the floor. The personalized mug inside had surely broken into a thousand pieces, but that was now the least of your problems.

Your roommate was lying there, apparently asleep, but you knew that wasn't the case. Not when Wanda was sitting on the other side of the couch with her arms crossed, then looking straight into your eyes. She had a small smile on her face, sly and arrogant you would say, but you could see all the hatred hidden behind her eyes. You were together, as teenagers, a long time ago. Wanda had lost everything, you too: you had regained everything and left Wanda behind, and Wanda had lost what was left of her, left with total nothingness. Considering that you had left her too. Or at least, that was what Wanda thought; in reality, your version would have been very different from hers, but you weren't really sure she wanted to hear it and even less that she was interested. "What are you doing in my house?" your own cold tone surprised you. It was as if someone else was talking to you and you didn't know how your knees could still hold up. But Wanda wasn't stupid, she could feel how your heart was beating like crazy, this still allowed her to act arrogant. She stood up from your couch and walked over to your boyfriend’s sleeping form, approaching you and freely ignoring your question.

“Is this your house? Our apartment was better.” It was a suggestion, obviously. It wasn’t the first time Wanda had tried to make you change your mind and tell you that the two of you were meant to be together, and at first you believed it. The first, the second and even the third time. Then you finally realized that she would tell you anything and lie shamelessly just to have you back by her side and reduce you to an object again.

You had loved that woman, but it was over. And she had to understand that.

“No, this house is better, with my roommate who I sincerely hope will wake up soon.” You made a suggestion and she immediately took it, laughing in your face.

“She’ll be fine, I just put her to sleep... I wanted to be alone with you, I missed you.” she said playing with your hair, and you could almost see the sincerity in her now slightly sad face. But you couldn't fall for it again and you had certainly been through too much because of her.

"But I haven't missed you, Wanda. Get out of my house."

You had caught her attention now, her fingers slowly stopped playing with your hair finally letting it go. Now you saw the real Wanda. Her hateful gaze with a red aura was intensely scrutinizing you and you swore they could see much more than your eyes or your face. Her eyes immediately became clear again and Wanda gave you a sweet smile, waving her right hand and using her magic. You remembered what that magic had done to you, you still had the scars.

"I can also go out, after all we will see each other every day. It's a pleasure to meet you again, neighbor!" she teased you giggling, then walking out of your door without you even accompanying her. You stood there in shock, standing numb in the doorway to the living room, watching the front door close and then the couch, where your roommate was now starting to wake up.

The nightmare had begun again.

[wonusite]

Hate to Love You (Not Really)

❝ The only thing worse than spending Valentine’s Day alone is spending it with someone you hate. ❞

PAIRING: lee seokmin x female reader

GENRE: enemies to lovers, coworkers au, fluff, smut

WORD COUNT: 3k

WARNINGS: coworker!seokmin, one sided enemies to lovers, pining, drinking, being forced to share a room, only one bed trope, seokmin is a HUGE simp, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, creampies, cockwarming, pussy drunk!seokmin, cock drunk!reader

A/N: this is for the lovely @drunk-on-dk as part of @svthub’s cupid for you collab! i really hope you like it! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

“We only have one room available.”

Those six words are the worst you’ve heard all day. If it weren’t for the heavy snow falling outside, you would immediately grab your things to try to find any other accommodation for the night. Not that you would have any luck since every other decent hotel you’ve been to is already full.

Seokmin glances over at you, nearly wincing at your dissatisfied expression. He clears his throat and fakes a smile as he looks back at the desk clerk. “We’ll take it. Thank you.”

The walk to your suite is silent and tense. In any other situation, you would’ve loved to stay in a luxury hotel, but being forced to share a room with your insufferable coworker isn’t how you pictured that happening. At least Seokmin isn’t stupid enough to crack one of his unfunny jokes as you two get inside the suite.

As if things weren’t already miserable, you find out that there’s only one large bed and a nice but uncomfortable looking couch. You let out a long, tired sigh. Just your luck. As if your day couldn’t get any worse.

“I’ll take the couch.” Seokmin’s voice is soft. “I don’t mind.”

You whip your head to look at him in surprise. His gaze seems shy, but he maintains eye contact. For some reason, you’re hyper aware of your heartbeat and how it’s slowly increasing. You clear your throat nervously and give him a single nod.

“Cool. Thanks.”

Silence falls over you two again. It’s not uncomfortable, but it is a little awkward. Mostly on your part because you hadn’t expected Seokmin to act so kindly towards you. After spending the entire day disagreeing about which manufacturer would be the best fit to produce the new wine bottles for the company, you thought he’d keep up his pettiness up to this point.

You tentatively sit on the edge of the bed, unsure of how to proceed. Ideally, you’d like to shower and order room service, but you can’t very well do it comfortably when you’re sharing a room with your coworker who you also happen to dislike a lot.

“Y/N?”

Seokmin’s voice is hesitant, as he inches toward you. In all the years you’ve known him, you’ve never seen him so nervous. For some sick reason, you feel endeared by the sight.

“Did you want to get dinner? I saw they’re having a special wine tasting event since it’s Valentine’s Day.”

It would be so easy to turn him down, not to mention satisfying. But he’s looking at you so earnestly that you can’t let yourself be the one to crush the hope swimming in his eyes. And you are pretty hungry since you didn’t get to have lunch. Also, having a glass of wine (or several) sounds way too appealing to turn down.

“Okay.”

You’re not sure what demon has possessed you, but it’s one that’s messing with your mind because there’s no way you’re finding your mortal enemy hot right now. Objectively, you know Seokmin is good looking. It’s undeniable, however, you’ve never been able to perceive him as attractive because of how much you dislike him.

Although, right now, in his nice dress shirt that hugs his broad chest just right, you can’t think of him as the same guy who constantly tries to undermine you.

“You look beautiful, by the way.” Seokmin says as you two sit down at the table. “I should’ve said something sooner, but when I saw you my brain just short-circuited.”

It’s true. When you stepped out of the bathroom in a slip dress that fit you just right, Seokmin just about died. He knew he must’ve looked like a complete fool just gawking at you without saying anything, but it was just a natural reaction.

Meanwhile, you have to force your expression to stay neutral as the waiter brings out the first wine you two are meant to taste. You’re not sure why Seokmin is suddenly acting so out of character, and you’re not sure why you’re feeling flattered and shy about his behavior.

“Thank you.” The words come out neutral (luckily for you). “You look good too.”

When he smiles at you brightly, you wonder if this is what all the other women in the office feel at the pretty sight. Seokmin has an infectious smile that’s too bright not to reciprocate. You hide most of it through a large gulp of wine, the bittersweet taste quickly marring your expression into one of neutrality again.

“Like it?” There’s a teasing lilt to the question.

You hum against the rim of the crystal glass. “Try it. Tell me what you think.”

It’s hard to control your expression when Seokmin listens to you. He never does, and the fact that he did it so easily is jarring. Also, it doesn’t help that he looks damn good while doing so.

Seokmin lets out a noise of approval. He licks his lips and maintains eye contact with you. “Sweet.”

The smirk he directs at you when you awkwardly cough is infuriatingly attractive. It feels like you’re potentially reading too much into his actions, and before you can really begin to question anything, the next bottle of wine is brought out for you to taste.

You attempt to distract yourself with the wine, but you can feel Seokmin’s eyes on you. There’s something heated about his gaze, and you can’t help but wonder what’s gotten into him. Still, you can’t bring yourself to outright ask even though you can feel the wine beginning to give you a nice little buzz.

“You must like this one.” Seokmin says, pretty smile still in place.

He says it because you gulped down what was in your glass. What he doesn’t know is that it’s because of him that you feel the need to finish the wine quickly so you can silence all these inappropriate thoughts you’re having.

“You must not.” Comes your rebuttal when you see that he’s barely taken a sip.

Seokmin doesn’t say anything at first. You can see him thinking, almost like he’s contemplating on how to answer you. Finally, he flashes another one of his annoyingly cute smiles at you. “It’s not bad, but seeing you like it so much is better than the taste.”

“What’s your problem?” You demand abruptly, not caring that the waiters who brought out your food are looking like they just walked into the crossfire.

That heart-stopping smile drops off his face, and his expression falls into the familiar cold one you’re used to receiving. Finally, the uncomfortable knot in your chest comes undone, but it’s replaced by a different discomfort.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

You scoff, annoyed that he’s not willing to acknowledge his odd behavior. “Yes, you do. Why are you acting like you don’t hate me all of a sudden?”

His gaze becomes hard, but you swear you see a tinge of sadness somewhere in that cold look. “I don’t hate you.”

You can’t understand why he’s lying, and so blatantly at that. It’s obvious that he’s hated you since you inadvertently picked holes in his first major presentation. He’s been out to get you ever since, and you’re not sure why he’s trying to act like you don’t know exactly how he feels about you.

“Right.” You scoff incredulously. “You telling the entire office that you’re capable of doing this project without my help was out of fondness.”

A blush slowly crawls up Seokmin’s neck and spreads across his face. “That—!”

“Oh, and I guess you did me a favor by telling our boss that ‘no woman should spend Valentine’s Day working!’”

Seokmin feels himself start to panic because he had said that, but it’s really not what you think. And he has to clear that up. Like now.

“Will you please just let me explain?”

You’re thrown off because the wine is slowly easing your nerves and because Seokmin looks like a kicked puppy. With a quiet huff, you nod stiffly, not wanting to make a scene even though some of the people at the surrounding tables are already looking at you funny.

“I just– I didn’t want you to have to spend today with me.”

Everything just seems to stop. Seokmin looks so remorseful and like he’s about to cry that you can’t think of his explanation as anything other than the truth. But then there’s the big question looming on your mind: Why would someone who hates you try to do something so kind for you? Unfortunately, you’re so thrown off that you can’t form a coherent response.

“You– What?”

Seokmin lets out a forced laugh. Your dumbfounded expression is adorable and makes him think that maybe he hadn’t entirely screwed up.

“Last month, I overheard you telling Josh that you had big plans today. When we were put on the project together and found out we had to work today, I tried everything so you wouldn’t be forced to spend the day with me. I’m an idiot for not realizing how you would feel about the things I said and I’m sorry.”

If only this sweet, silly man knew the big plans you mentioned involved five of your favorite romcoms and a bottle of wine. You can’t fully process the onslaught of emotions hitting you with full force, and you wish you had the capacity to answer him intelligently.

“But… why? Why would you do that for me?”

Seokmin can feel the heat coming from his face, but he soldiers on with what he hopes is anything but an embarrassed expression. “Like I said. I don’t hate you.”

You just blink at him, and he has to laugh.

“It’s true. And I’ll prove it to you.”

Just when you think he can’t surprise you anymore, he signals over a worker you hadn’t noticed before. The lovely woman had been handing out single pink roses, and now she was giving Seokmin the remaining ones after he slipped her several bills. You gape at him as he boldly hands them to you with that dumb, endearing smile.

“For you.” He nudges them toward you. “I know you would’ve preferred red or white roses, but I’ll get them for you some other time.”

Now his words are making your brain short circuit because what the fuck? How could he know your preferences and what did he mean that he would get you your favorite flowers next time?

All your rationality has gone out the window, and so have your inhibitions. It’s why you don’t care to cut the dinner short while telling Seokmin to follow you upstairs. He’s so obedient that you eat it all up. That and his needy kisses are too addicting for you to think about how wrong you’d been this entire time.

“You feel good, pretty girl?” Seokmin wonders from between your thighs.

His entire body burns with desire when you give him a heated look as you slowly roll your hips, grinding your soaking cunt down on his awaiting mouth. You do it with a neediness that has his eyes rolling and his cock twitching. Seokmin has never looked hotter to you than he does with your arousal covering his mouth and chin. You’re so turned on that your juices are slowly dripping down into a mess on the sheets bellow you.

“Amazing.” You breathe out through a whine as Seokmin dives back in, flicking his tongue on your throbbing clit before fucking it into your needy hole.

His cock is leaking and twitching as he drinks up every last bit of your arousal. Seokmin moans and groans into your cunt as you eagerly meet every movement of his tongue with an enthusiastic grind of your hips.

“Fuck, baby. Wanna make you come.”

You clench around his tongue at hearing the earnest words. It makes you arch into him more, loving how his tongue is splitting though your folds and slurping up all your arousal eagerly. He drags his wet muscle over your clit before sucking and rolling it like he would do to an addicting candy.

He’s so into eating you out, so fucked out by your taste alone that you can’t stop your quickly approaching orgasm. Seokmin’s eyes are rolling to the back of his head, moaning and whimpering about how you taste like absolute heaven. There’s even a moment where he lets it slip about how long he’s longed to have a taste of you, and that just does it for you.

The coil in your stomach snaps, and you two moan in pleasure together. Seokmin’s cock throbs wildly at the sweet taste of your cream. He licks every inch of your pretty pussy, not wanting to waste even a single drop of what you’re giving him.

“God.” You breathe out, legs trembling around his head. “Hurry up and fuck me.”

Expectedly, Seokmin does exactly as you want. You don’t care that you might need some time to adjust to his cock’s impressive size, you just need him.

“You’re so fucking pretty like this, angel.” Seokmin hums against your jaw as his fat tip teases your entrance. “All needy and wet, just for me.”

“Please.” You whine into his cheek as he laces your hands together. “Want you so bad, baby.”

Your moans are loud and downright pornographic when Seokmin finally eases his throbbing cock into your cunt. You’re so warm and wet and tight that he already feels addicted. He could come just from bottoming out, but he won’t. Not before he feels you come on his cock.

You arch your back, mouth dropped open in pleasure. “Fuck me!”

And he does, nice and deep. Your legs hook around Seokmin’s slim waist to push him in deeper. His cock is ramming against a spot no one else came close to touching, and you’re sm quickly starting to lose yourself to the pleasure consuming you. His big cock smoothes along your velvety walls with every rough snap of his hips, and you don’t even try to contain your cries of pleasure.

“Feels so good.” You whimper into Seokmin’s mouth when he turn to plant a messy kiss to your lips.

Your eyes roll back as his tongue forces it’s way into your mouth. His thumb brushes the back of your hand gently, the tender action only spurring you on as you try to meet the wet connection of his hips with needy grinds of your own.

Seokmin’s cock throbs inside you, seeming to swell at your words. He reluctantly pulls way from your lips, hips not stopping for a second. Every thrusts feels like the air is lowly being forced out of your lungs. But you love every second. All you can do is moan out his name with ravenous desire as he fucks his cock into you.

“Pussy’s so fucking tight.” Seokmin groans as his free hand trails down to your swollen nub. It’s so cute to hear you moan out for him as he starts to rub gentle yet fast circles into your clit. “Feels so good around me. Sh-Shit, Y/N. Never wanna stop fucking you. Want to be inside this pretty pussy all the time!”

You’re so turned on by his need for you and your pussy that you can feel yourself on the verge of coming. Especially with the way his fingers twist around your messy clit. Your inside are fluttering as his leaking tip rams into your soft spot over and over again.

“G-Gonna come!” You cry out and you squeeze the hand that is still wrapped around yours.

You focus on his rough thrusts and how his hips dig into yours as his big cock stretches your little pussy open to fit him inside. The restless flicks to your puffy nub push you over the edge as Seokmin urges you to come for him. He licks and sucks on your pulse point just to drive you more insane than you already feel.

“Seokmin!”

Your orgasm tips through you intensely as you crema all over his aching cock. Seokmin curls his body over yours, wrapping his brawny arm around you back to press himself against you. Now you’re stuck in his strong yet gentle embrace, bodies practically molded into one as he continues to split you open.

His thrusts become sloppy as he keeps on fanning the flames of your orgasm. “Need to fill you up, angel. Want to see your pretty pussy dripping with my cum.”

“Come inside me!” You beg, eyes rolling back. “Stuff me full!”

Seokmin smashes his lips on yours, greedily swallowing your moans as he empties himself inside your hot cunt. His entire body shudders in pleasure as he fucks his cum deeper into you.

“Fuck, baby. Take it all. It’s just yours, angel.”

You’re slowly coming down from you high when you feel Seokmin’s lip brush against your ear. “I’m not done yet.”

That’s when you find out he’s just as insatiable as you are.

“Fuck.” Seokmin moans against your neck as his thrusts grow sloppier and sloppier.

He’s so drunk on the feeling of your hot cunt that he feels any coherent thoughts start to get hazy. “So fucking pretty. Always so fucking pretty.”

Seokmin pulls you in for another kiss, hips still grinding into yours with a need that turns you on beyond belief. You’ve already came on his cock two more times, and he’s mad with clear that he won’t stop until he stuffs your pussy one more time. Which he does. Thick ropes of his cum spill into you, adding to the mess on his heavy balls and the sheets bellow you.

His next kiss is gentle yet passionate. Seokmin hums into your mouth, still making no move to pull out. His cock acts as a plug for all his cum, and when you shift he groans against your lips.

“Let me stay inside you, baby.” He pleads with shining eyes. “Please.”

“Okay.” You sigh as he rolls you over so your weight is on top of him now.

And it’s only when your on the cusp of sleep that you realize Seokmin still hasn’t let go of your hand.

[anlian-aishang]

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

This can’t be happening.

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

“You’re sure?”

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

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

“Two adult guests.”

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

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

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

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

Hello?

“You fucked up.”

Sorry?

“As you should be.”

For what? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“- can I brush my teeth?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Levi?”

“Yeah?”

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

“Do you want me to take the floor?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Get in the bed, idiot. 

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

Can I take this off? 

I would love nothing more.

But you were both stupid to imagine that dialogue.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He did.

“- then do something about it.”

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

“Better?”

“Yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Practice with me?”

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

He did.

“Pull me closer?”

He did.

“And kiss me already.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“My turn.”

Huh? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shit…!

If this keeps up…

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

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

“I, I want -”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Or if it gets too much.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But this was only the first night of the trip.

And the first day of the rest of your lives.

// masterlist //

[chocochipsushi]

𝑮𝒐𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒔𝒐 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒚, 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒄𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒊𝒏 𝑼𝒏𝒄𝒍𝒆 𝑻𝒐𝒋𝒊’𝒔 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆

NSFW! minors do not interact! 18+ only!

🌸Word count: 5.3K

🌸AU: Toji as your father’s best friend, consoling you with his cock after a fight with your dad

🌸CW: cockwarming, toji calling reader all sorts of pretty names, fucking while reader's dad is around, unprotected sex, fluff

🌸A/N: Hello... I am here to clarify some things. I found out recently that I got a pretty established and amazing fanartist on Twitter into a situation where they received backlash for recreating one of my Uncle Toji scenes. I felt so bad because antis were giving the artist shit for something I wrote. So I am here to let all of you know that:

1) reader's age was never specifically spelled out bc I wanted everyone to be able to relate to the reader's age and not be restrained by a number in the story. If I knew that there was a rule where we had to indicate ages of every character in stories, I would have done so... Anyway, if I were to be asked what the OC's age was, I would say she is within the age range of 26-28yo.

2) It will be clear in the last chapter as I tried to give a short back story (before I even saw those mean tweets) but I will let you all know now - Toji was out of the reader's life from age 9 to 24, reader's dad had her at 21, and Toji is a few years younger than the dad. So the math is that the age gap between Toji and the reader is ~18 years.

3) Reader hardly calls Toji by his name because she feels awkward doing that since she's always known him as Uncle Toji. but if you notice, she has been getting braver through the chapters. And she calls him 'Uncle Toji' during sex most of the time coz they like to roleplay??

Anyway, I am only explaining bc I really do not wish to hurt anyone, and I hope the fanartist know that the hate should be directed at me, not at them.

Next chapter will be the last. thank you all for supporting my Uncle Toji series.

<< Part 1 🔞, Part 2 🔞, Part 3 🔞 || Epilogue 🔞 >>

I am surprised when Toji’s hand on the small of my back gently guides me to the side, away from guests trying to lure us into their conversations. I look up at him in confusion and worry, only to be met with a concerned look on his face. 

He dips his head so that I can hear him when he murmurs, “You alright, baby? Wanna go home?”

Oh. 

I’d had a fight with my dad before coming to the gala dinner. Toji was caught in the crossfire when he came to pick me up. I was initially supposed to meet him at the dinner with my parents, where I would be handed over to Toji since each guest could only bring a Plus One. However, once my dad and I started raising our voices at each other, my mother called Toji right away and got him to come over to take me.

I was glad for it, and I’m sure my parents were, too. I haven’t been in the best of moods since then and Toji knows me way too well to have me engage in any conversation. I am still a good guest in the way I politely respond to questions asked, yet at the same time cutting the conversation short. But Toji understands that I am being civil only for the sake of it. 

I give Toji a small smile and shake my head. “No, I’m fine.”

He observes me for a few seconds. Finally, he rubs his thumb on my back and nods. “Okay. But I’ll bring you home early. Let me just talk to Dr. Hung.”

I have no objection to that, so Toji slides his engulfing hand down to take hold of mine and starts walking towards Dr. Hung. I try to listen politely and take mental notes of their conversation, since I am also here to make connections that might benefit my father’s company when I eventually take over. Toji, being my father’s best friend and longest business partner, knows of this and even tries to bring up our company’s name. 

By the time they were done talking business, I had Dr. Hung’s name card and a promise to have a business lunch, all thanks to Toji. And finally, when it is just us again, Toji rests a comforting hand on my back and leans down so that his lips are by my ear. 

“Let’s bring you home now, shall we?”

I look up and nod my head, to which he returns a nod at. Before we leave, however, Toji looks around to locate my parents, who are engaged in a conversation with a few other notable people in the industry. Not wanting to interrupt them, Toji guides me straight out of the ballroom and walks me to his car where his driver is already waiting. 

“Careful,” he murmurs with his big palm resting on top of my head as I get into the car. 

He gets his driver to bring me back and only when he has walked me back to my room, I face him and hold onto his calloused hand with both of mine. 

“Stay for a bit, Toji?” 

He stares at me for a long moment, not saying anything. I know that he is debating whether he should, since my parents might come home and see him here. But I give him a small pout that I know he can never resist, and he eventually squeezes my fingers — his non-verbal way of saying yes. 

When I let go of his hand, Toji undoes the knot on his tie, ready to get comfortable. By the time I am out of the shower, I find Toji already laying on my bed, tie off and blazer-less. He has the top few buttons of his shirt undone, his arm resting behind his head widening the plackets of his top and allowing me to see more skin. He is on his phone, probably going through some soccer news. 

Cuddling up to him seems so inviting that I rush through my nightly routine just to jump into bed with him. Toji fully expects it, having experienced this too many times for him not to be ready for it. He spreads his arm out just in time for me to burrow into his side. 

“Ugh, what a terrible day,” I groan into his armpit. 

Toji pats my crown and rests his palm on the swell of my hips. “Your dad only means well, you know that, baby.”

I lift myself up on my elbow, my hand on his chest to keep me steady, as I glare at him. Toji returns a levelled gaze. “He thinks that I’m not focused and that I am not trying hard enough to learn about taking over the company!”

Toji locks his phone and puts it aside just so he can give me more attention. But when I hear his response, I suddenly wish he didn’t give me any at all, or that I even asked him to stay. 

“Well, do you think you really have been giving your all in the handover?” I simply gape at him, in disbelief that he would say something like that. Toji taps my hip. “Look at it this way, Princess, from your father’s point of view. You complain when you have business meetings, when they are actually good for your business. You hate the small talk and show an attitude, which I can’t say gives off a good impression. You hang back and passively stand there and look pretty at the networking events your father brings you to, that are really for you to broaden your connections.” 

Toji could probably see the look of incredulity and betrayal on my face, because he sighs and strokes my chin with his free hand. Being the petty me that I am, I turn my head away with a pout. 

“You know that I am always fair and logical, Princess. I’m not just taking your dad’s side because he is my best friend,” Toji murmurs.

I stay quiet, trying to rationalise his explanation. But the longer I do, the more heated I get. So, instead of answering him, I get up, tear the sheets off my bed to get under it, and reach out to turn the lights off, plunging us into darkness. I lie on my side, facing away from Toji even though he can’t see me in the darkness anyway. He doesn’t move or say anything for a while but a few seconds later, I hear movement and in the next few seconds, the nightlight next to my bed turns on. I feel Toji getting under the blanket behind me where he rests his heavy hand on my hip. He comes closer until his lips are hovering over my ear. 

“Although…” he murmurs huskily, quietly. “Of course I will be there to help you. How can Uncle Toji leave his baby girl to be eaten by the wolves?” While my heart flutters at his words, I make sure not to react. Toji rubs his rough palm up and down the side of thigh now. “Together, we’ll dominate the playing field. I’ll guide and bring success to you.”

I know that he always keeps his promises and he never promises anything he can’t do. But I still won’t respond, so Toji nudges my earlobe with his lips. I can feel the scruff on his chin that is already growing. 

“It’s all for your own good, Princess. Your dad just doesn’t want you to fail. Neither do I.”

I turn my head slightly and grumble, “I thought you said you’d help me succeed.”

The tip of Toji’s nose now brushes my cheek. He rubs my side gently, at the same time causing my night dress to ride up. “Oh, that’s not negotiable, baby. Of course I will. But you’ve got to try and make it out on your own too.” 

“But I am trying,” I whine, now twisting my body a little more so that I am facing him. 

He is staring down at me with the softest gaze — one that he only reserves for me. “Of course you are,” Toji almost coos. This only makes me pout instinctively. He leans down to press his scarred lips to mine. “But try harder.”

Immediately, I pull away with a loud whine and slap his broad shoulder. Toji’s chuckle is low and husky, so warm and familiar that I am already melting before he kisses me again. This time, he nips on my bottom lip, his palm on my hip now moving in sensual strokes. Little moans and mewls escape me as some sort of resistance, not wanting to be played into his hands like that. But we both know that I am enjoying this, especially when I clench my fist on the material of his shirt, pulling him closer. Toji hooks his fingers under the hem of my night dress and drags them up along my thigh, pulling my dress up. 

He is toying with the band of my panties when he breaks the kiss and murmurs against my lips, “Still mad at Uncle Toji?” My teeth pull on my bottom lip as I nod my head. The corners of Toji’s lips turn down. “Can’t have that now, can we?” he hums before burying his face into my nape. He trails the faintest of kisses along my neck, his fingers now tugging and flicking at the thin elastic of my underwear. “You’re not tired, are you, baby? I don’t think you’ll be getting any sleep yet.”

And with that, Toji lifts himself up on his elbow as he pulls my g-string down as far as he can. He kisses me on the shoulder just as he hovers his hand over my crotch, the tip of his finger drawing shapes on my sensitive skin, making my hair stand on ends. I hold my breath as he gets closer to my clit, dipping his finger between my thighs so that the length of his digit rubs on my pussy lips. 

I can feel his erection growing hard against my ass, especially when he starts thrusting his hips slowly in tandem with the rhythm of his finger sliding between my labia. The tip of his finger teases my entrance. Pushing just an inch of his digit into my hole, he slides out and spreads my slick along my lips. I swallow and turn my head so that I could at least see him a little. Almost at once, Toji leans in to kiss the corner of my lips. 

His lips are still on me when he mumbles, “You’re so cute when you act like you’re mad at me.”

I let out a whine and reach out to thump my fist on his shoulder. Toji merely chuckles against my lips. He gives me one last kiss and pulls away, now moving to lay on his back. I turn my head to take a look at what he’s doing and see that he is undoing his pants. Knowing that he is actually going to finish what he started, I return to face the front. 

His strong arm snakes around my waist again and this time, I can feel his member poking my ass, excited and hard. The expensive material of his pants brush against the back of my thigh, adjusting my position so that my legs are scissored. Scooching closer to me, Toji holds his cock in his hand just for him to rub it against my flaps. I bite my bottom lip in an effort to try not to stick my ass out. But it is useless because my hips start to move and grind against his cockhead, allowing him to spread his precum and my wetness along my slit. 

Toji wraps his arm across my chest and brings me inevitably closer so that his lips are pressing against my ear. As he continues to thrust his hips, letting the length of his cock slide along my pussy lips, he lets out the sexiest grunts and the lowest of moans. At this point, I just want him to put it in me already. And he knows, because I arch my back to the point I am pressing my ass against his hips. 

Reaching his hand down, Toji tactically spreads my cheeks apart and positions his cockhead at the entrance of my wet pussy. Thrusting his hips forward, he stretches out my hole, making me whine and moan in pain and pleasure. Once he has his tip in, he returns to hugging me tight against his body. Toji’s nose is at the back of my ear, his lips on my earlobe. I can hear his shaky breathing as he enters me deeper. 

“Fuck…” he groans quietly. “You feel so good, baby.” 

Toji is slow as he sheathes himself inside of me, trying to savour the moment he first slides into me. Only when he is balls deep inside of me, he pauses and groans into my ear while he enjoys the pulsing, warm cocksleeve around his meat. My jaw goes slack when he finally pulls out several seconds later, only to thrust back into me again. His strokes start out slow before building up to a passionate rhythm of fucking. 

Toji growls into my ear and I just know that he isn’t going to last very long tonight. Especially when he brings his hand to wrap around my throat, his thick fingers lightly gripping the sides of my neck. My pussy is getting wetter. The sounds of Toji’s hips slamming against my ass and the squelching of my sopping pussy are almost too loud in my quiet room. It doesn’t help that Toji releases the chokehold around my neck, only to bring his hand down to my clit, his fingers already rubbing the nub in circles. 

“Ah, Daddy…” I mewl breathily, my body already trembling at his ministrations. 

Toji grunts. “God. You’re so tight and warm around me, Princess.” He lets out a long groan. “Daddy’s going to cum.”

By the sound of his irregular breathing, I just know that he is so close. Just a few more thrusts and he is going to explode inside of me. 

Which is why I have to be the one to stop him with my hand against his hips, giving him a squeeze in warning, when I hear the door creaking open. My heart is racing with fear and anxiety. Toji curses under his breath but immediately ceases his movements. He tries very hard to regulate his breathing quietly. He taps my thigh and I just know what he wants me to do. I shut my eyes and pretend to sleep. 

Someone takes a few steps into the room. Toji twists his body so that he appears to be lying on his back. I hear him groan, like how a tired person would. 

“Oh, you’re with her.” 

I really hope the thumping of my heart against my chest is not as loud as it sounds like to me. Because my father is here, speaking quietly to Toji.

“We had a little talk before she fell asleep,” Toji mumbles. I am impressed that he doesn’t sound at all out of breath.

My father lets out a loud sigh. Instinctively, my entire body clenches with anxiety, even down to my pussy walls squeezing Toji’s swollen cock. Toji chokes on a grunt and reactively moves his hand that is under the blanket to squeeze my arm lightly in warning. 

“Yeah, I might have been too harsh on her,” my father reflects. He sounds a little regretful. 

Toji clears his throat. He knows that I am listening and will very well treat him according to his reply. He pauses for a second before saying, “Good you know that. She really is trying, you know. She’s a good girl.”

As a reward for Toji sticking up for me, I pretend to shift in my sleep so that I press my ass against his hips, fully taking in his cock. Toji lets out a short hiss, which he covers up by clearing his throat. 

“She can be a brat,” he comments, making sure that I hear the edge in his tone. The corner of my lip lifts slightly. “But she is a good kid.”

“I know.” My father sighs. “I feel terrible. We never have fights.”

Toji scoffs. “Obviously. You’re a sucker for your daughter.” 

I could almost hear my father rolling his eyes. “You’re not one to talk. I’ve never seen you fuss over anyone like you do with her. She can’t even meet boys with the way you’re always hovering around her.”

Toji shifts his leg, at the same time angling his cock and driving his meat deeper inside of me. I bite down on my bottom lip to stop myself from moaning. He is almost growling when he answers, “Boys can’t take care of her.”

“You know, I agree with you. But then who will?” 

I wish I had my eyes open to watch the non-verbal interaction between my father and Toji. Because the tension in the air intensifies and my dad almost sounds interrogative now. 

“You? You want to take care of my daughter?” 

“Just ‘cause she’s a brat and a princess, you think I can’t handle her?” Toji may sound like he is joking but I just know that he is being defensive. 

The tension breaks when my father laughs. “Oh, I know for sure you can handle her, Toji. I’m just not confident she can take care of you, ya grumpy old geezer.”

Toji’s body relaxes behind me. He scoffs and says, “Like I need anyone taking care of me.”

“Hmm. True.” A moment of silence passes, putting an end to the short distraction from their original conversation. My father sighs and asks, “Are you staying?” Without waiting for Toji to answer though, he quickly changes his question to an instruction, “Stay the night and talk to her in the morning before breakfast. She listens to you better. Then we’ll go for brunch at Fordeux.”

Toji chuckles under his breath. “Bribing me with a meal at my favourite place, huh?” My father doesn’t answer but I know he must be grinning. Toji flips to the side and pats my hip over the blanket. “Alright. I’ll make sure she’s talking to you again tomorrow.”

“Good ni—”

“But,” Toji stops him in his tracks. My father pauses. “You need to cut her some slack too. Let her do things at her pace.”

It takes a while for my father to respond but when he does, my heart lightens so much that I feel like I might float. “Fine.” I can almost hear him roll his eyes. “Can’t say shit about me when you’re as big of a sucker for her.” 

“Shut up, dickhead.”

My father’s laughter is getting further and further until I hear the door open again. The moment it closes behind him and we are back in the silence of my room, I open my eyes. I wait a couple more seconds before turning my head around to face Toji. He turns to look at me. I keep staring at him, not saying anything, probably scaring him because he opens his mouth to say something. Before he could even get a word out though, I reach my arm behind me and grab his neck, pulling him close. Toji’s fingers tighten around my hip when my lips touch his, so possessive and full of yearning that I can only respond in a sensual swirl of my hips. 

Hearing him moan into my mouth, I am motivated to give him more. Arching my back to press my ass against his groin, I rock my hips at a steady pace, sliding his cock in and out of my tight hole. Toji kisses me back sloppily, his jaw slack at the pleasure my wet pussy is giving him. 

I pull away from his lips, which only makes Toji’s eyes flutter open as he stares at me in a lovestruck daze. It makes me grin. I am usually the one with that expression. Circling my fingers around his wrist, I pull his hand away from my hip and move away from him. His brows draw together for a moment before he realises what I am about to do as I push him back and climb on top of him, straddling his hips. 

Toji licks his lips and bites down on the bottom one as he watches me steady myself with a hand on his chest and my hand wrapped around his dick. I lift myself up so that I am hovering over his thick cock. Sliding his cockhead up and down my wet lips, I glance up at him, finding him already in position with his arms behind his head, ready to watch me ride him. 

Lowering myself as I rub his mushroom head along my slit, the wet smacking of my pussy lips becomes louder and almost more elaborate. Toji’s teeth are tugging on his bottom lip and I can just tell that his restraint is almost breaking at my teasing. He is probably just two seconds away from flipping us around and completely obliterating me when I finally sink down on his dick, slowly letting his wide girth stretch me out. 

Toji’s hip spasms at the immense pleasure my sopping cunt is giving him and his face contorts into one of agony and bliss, all at the same time. Placing both hands on his chest now, I hold myself stable as I continue taking in his cock, all the way down until he is balls deep inside of me. I let out the breath I had been holding in and lift my head to find Toji with his eyes barely open. He always enjoys the first time his cock slides into my pussy. 

As I slide my palm up his smooth chest, I tease, “You alright there, Uncle Toji?” 

It takes him a few seconds but Toji finally blinks the haze away. He is already glaring at me. Taking a hand away from the back of his head, his palm meets my ass with a resounding smack. “What’s gotten into you, huh? Thought you were mad at Uncle Toji?”

As I lean forward with a grin, I lift my ass so that his cock slides out of my tight snatch. “How could I stay mad at you?” Toji flickers his eyes down to my lips, looking so mesmerised by the way my bottom lip is caught between my teeth. “You stood up for me.”

Toji’s hand cups my chin and pulls me closer. “If I don’t, who will?” 

My heart flutters at his words, sending a ripple down south that massages his meat. Toji’s warm breath hits my lips in a soft moan before taking my mouth in his. He kisses me deep and slow. Readjusting my hands to hold myself up on the bed beside him, I slowly start to move again, sliding my wet cunt up and down his hard dick. He could still kiss me until I started going faster, slapping my ass down to meet the base of his cock each time. Letting out a low, deep moan, Toji breaks the kiss and tilts his head up slightly, trying to get more air into his lungs. 

I stop for a moment, only to change my position so that I have my palms flat on my headboard, completely hovering above him now. I move my hips again, fast and powerful that I have the bed rocking slightly, my tits swinging in Toji’s face, my perked nipples just grazing his stubble and his sharp nose. The man below me lets rip a growl and grabs a handful of my breast, latching his mouth on my tit. I throw my head back at the sensation of his tongue flicking over my stiff bud. My pussy is only getting wetter, making me glide up and down his thick cock easily. 

Toji’s other hand slides down to my body, finding my ass. I mewl when he slaps my mound before giving it a squeeze, his grunts only letting me know that he enjoys my reaction. I know that Toji is enjoying this, but he always wants to finish with him on top. And I am slowly losing my strength as I start to slow down. He gives me one last slap and squeeze to my ass before unlatching from my breast. With his hands on my hips, he stops me from moving, holding me up with his hands now cupping my ass. 

“Oh, fuck, Daddy…” I whine when he starts rutting his hips, impaling me over and over with his thick meat. 

“Mm…” he groans. “Baby.” He cannot stop himself from giving my flesh another squeeze. “Princess.” At that petname, I fall forward and melt into his chest completely, letting him hold me up with pure brute strength. Toji’s grunt in my ear is low and guttural. “My pretty girl,” he moans. My cunt grips tighter around his cock. He knows what this does to me. 

Sliding a hand up to my head, he pushes my hair away from my face so that I can feel his warm murmur on my cheek when he says, “My darling little kitten.” I shut my eyes and let out a mewl. “Daddy made you so wet, pretty baby.” Toji squeezes a handful of my ass. “Gonna cum for Daddy, sweetheart?” I can only whine and nod my head dumbly. stops with his cock entirely sheathed inside of me and circles his hips, enjoying the sticky sound of our juices mixing together. He groans at my pussy pulsing around him. 

He tilts his head so that his cheek is resting on my temple and murmurs, “Daddy’s going to cum, baby doll. And I’m going to ruin your pretty little body when I do.” I can only mewl in response, my walls fluttering around his sheathed cock. My head is buzzing from my unexpected orgasm, my body already reacting involuntarily at his words. Toji nudges my temple as he moves to whisper in my ear, still gyrating his hips with his cock inside of me, “My cum all over your stomach and your tits, baby. Gonna look so pretty, all covered in Uncle Toji’s love.”

I gasp when he flips us around suddenly, his dick slipping out of me at the movement. I am lying on the bed staring up at him now. He cages me under his big, strong build, his eyes dark and lustful as he watches me. Licking his fingers, he reaches between us and gives my sopping wet  pussy a slap, causing me to jerk in surprise. A corner of his lip pulls up. He does this again, and this time I whine. 

Toji takes hold of his cock now, positioning it at the entrance of my parted pussy. He lets out a deep exhale as he slides into me again. I like being in this position where I am able to watch Toji’s expression as he fucks me. His eyebrows would be furrowed, his dark, green eyes would be piercing mine, the ends of his hair just slightly wet from the physical exertion. I smile and reach up to give him a peck on his lips. 

It is meant to be a sweet gesture, but Toji lets out a low growl. He drops his head to kiss me hard while he speeds up his pace. I move in tandem with his fucking, meeting the base of his cock with every hip thrust. I make a conscious effort to squeeze my walls, my pussy gripping so tightly onto his cock that Toji quickly pulls out like he has been burnt, just to keep stroking his meat furiously. He cums on me like he said he would, the white liquid painting my stomach with some droplets staining my night dress. 

He takes a while to recover from his heaving but when he does, he gets up slowly and starts unbuttoning his shirt. He keeps his eyes entirely on me the whole time he strips from his clothes. The moment he is done, he scoops me up carefully and walks me to the bathroom where he brings me to the shower stall with him once he takes the dress off me. 

“I’m going to do something stupid tomorrow,” Toji suddenly announces in the middle of our clean-up. 

My heart stops for a second. I look up at him shampooing his hair. “What?” When he only stares at me, not saying anything, I laugh and joke, “Gonna have another cheat day and eat all the carbs you want?”

Toji rolls his eyes. “Everyday is a cheat day when your girlfriend always leaves you with her unfinished food.”

I click my tongue and reach out to land a wet slap on his bicep. He grins at me and closes his eyes to wash out the shampoo on his hair. Finishing up my rinse, I get out of the shower before him and dry myself. I have to change into a new set of nightwear and when I am dressed, I snuggle back into bed, waiting for Toji. 

He takes a while so I try to stay up. But when I hear the hairdryer going off, I decide that I can always spend time with him in the morning before the brunch, since he is staying over. 

I am already half-asleep when Toji finally crawls into bed and cuddles me, bringing me closer to him. I wonder if I had been dreaming when he murmured in my ear, “I’m going to talk to your dad about us, baby.”

At brunch the next day, I am sat next to Toji, both of us across the table from my parents. He takes care of me the entire time like he always does, even going to the extent of cutting up my waffles for me while he talks to my father. 

“You’re spoiling her, Toji,” my dad finally comments as he watches his best friend cutting up my food for me. “She’s not a baby, you know.”

My father glances at me but I merely shrug at him and grin up at Toji. “I like being spoiled.”

“Of course you do,” my father quips. 

Toji makes one last cut of my waffle and sets the cutlery down. I thank him and start eating. As he reaches out to have a sip of his wine, he leans back in his chair comfortably to address my father. 

“Do you think it’s weird that I spoil her?”

My dad laughs as he reaches for his wine glass too. “Not weird. But definitely bad.”

But Toji is serious as he continues, “Then do you think it’s weird if I say I want to take care of her?” 

My father pauses for a moment. He looks at me looking lost and uncomfortable at where this conversation is headed, then glances at his similarly confused wife, and finally back at Toji. 

“No… You’ve always been taking care of her even when she was younger.”

“I mean as a man.” 

The man across him frowns and leans forward to put his wine down. “You mean… like…” My father is at a loss for words. 

Even I am, too. All of us are just gaping stupidly at Toji now, waiting for some sort of explanation, or even him laughing to tell us he is joking. But he only clears his throat and sits with his elbows on his arm rests, his hands resting on his torso with his fingers interlocked. 

“Like I want to commit my life to her.” 

<< Part 1 🔞, Part 2 🔞, Part 3 🔞 || Epilogue 🔞 >>

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© chocochipsushi 2023 all works are mine, please do not rewrite/plagiarise

[restinslices]

Everything

PJO Show Ares x Child!Reader (no gender specified)

Word count: 2459

Summary: Ares supposedly hates kids, so it’s really strange that he comes when you call. (Do not let the summary fool you, this is not fluff. Based on a dream I had a couple days ago. Warning for possible ooc Ares and brief mentions of abuse. Blink and you’ll miss it type shit)

“I don't wanna say”, Grover fingers fidgeted with each other as he purposefully avoided eye contact with you. 

“We're friends, right?”

“Of course!”

“Then you have to tell me! You spoke to my father, I gotta know what he said! What was he like? I bet he was really cool! Man, I wish I could've been there and talked to him”, you looked down at your shoes and added more misery to your face than was necessary. It was extremely childish and petty but Grover kept refusing to tell you what your father Ares was like. You had to know though. You doubted he brought you up, but you still wanted to know what he said and what he was like when he was just out and about. Grover had the opportunity to have a long talk with him and that was something you'd kill and suffer for. 

“I doubt you'd wanna do that” he mumbled, but you heard him. 

“Why'd you say that?” You asked. 

Grover refused to expound on what he meant… at first. 

Everyone knew Grover couldn't hold water so it didn't take too much prodding before he spilled his guts. 

The memory replayed in your head more than you'd like to admit, and if it were up to you, you'd no longer be a half blood. 

It made you feel pathetic. Tons of gods- no. All the gods were shitty parents. After all, they had children with mortals and left the children on Earth, knowing they'd be hunted down. Plenty of half bloods died in a gruesome painful way and at a young age. Plenty of gods never claimed their children, even if they made it to Camp Half Blood. But Ares did claim you, so you assumed that that meant he cared for you in some way. He even gifted you with a double sided sword. Surely, he must've loved you. 

You were foolish and you hated how foolish you were. You should've known he didn't care. He left you here with mortals and watched as your home life got worse and worse which was due to multiple factors including a piss poor mother and step family, the aura children of Ares give off that makes people around them experience rage and of course the random monster attacks that your family blamed you for. It was as if they thought you begged Ares to be his child. As if you'd ever do something as stupid as that. 

The rain soaked through your hood, making your hair all wet and gross. You were an idiot. You tried coming home for the school year, thinking maybe your family changed. They said they did. They tended to lie a lot though. You got into a huge fight and stormed out and you were in such a hurry that you completely forgot to grab your pouch full of drachmas and you didn't wanna step another foot in that house. So now here you were, outside with freezing cold hands that couldn't be warmed because your hoodie was soaking and you couldn't call Chiron. Perfect.

You checked your pockets once again, hoping to find something other than the lighter and fruit roll up that was there but alas, nothing magically appeared. You held the two objects in your hand and an idea formed in your mind. 

You could always set the fruit roll up on fire as an offering. You could pray to your father and hope he hears you and sends you something to help. 

No. That's incredibly stupid. Could you even light a fruit roll up on fire? It didn't matter. Not only was that the stupidest offering ever but you refused to pray to him. You'd rather sleep out in the rain then sneak inside when your family was gone to get your shit. 

You put the two objects in your pocket and let your head rest on your knees, exhaustion hitting. It wasn't even physical exhaustion. It was all mental and emotional. Like a leech was sucking on you constantly. Or a vampire. You'd prefer that. At least you'd die quicker. 

The hum of a motorcycle filled your ears, getting closer and closer. Best case scenario, it was a neighbor. Worst case scenario, it was a murderer. Honestly, you'd welcome both. 

The hum stopped and a familiar voice made you look up, “rough night”. 

It was him. Ares. God of war. Father to who knew how many. It was someone you definitely did not want to see… or so you thought. Part of you absolutely despised him now and everything to do with him and wanted to rip him apart. The other part of you though still felt an immense amount of joy when you saw him and you wanted to cling to him like a child clings to its favorite toy. If you were alone, you would've screamed. 

Then a thought crossed your mind. You didn't burn anything. You didn't make an offering. 

“You were going to” he said, seeming to read your mind. 

“Why are you here?” you managed to get out after some time of just staring at him. 

“Why do you think I'm here?” he asked and you could tell by his tone he meant it sarcastically. Like “the reason is so obvious. Stop being stupid”. 

Something about that sarcastic and irritated tone made you think back to what Grover told you. 

“Why don't you like me?” You asked and you hadn't meant to. It was supposed to stay in your head. 

He squinted his eyes at you and looked you up and down, “what?”. 

You could've let it go. You could've said nevermind, thanked him and let him help. You couldn't though. You didn't know when you'd have this chance again (the camp visited them but damn, there was a lot of you) and if you did something to make him not like you, you wanted to fix it. But that wasn't your job, right? Parents are supposed to care for their kids. 

You did that a lot. Your mind juggled opposite thoughts and it drove you insane. This was just the latest bit of juggling you'd been doing. 

“Grover said he spoke to you-”

“Who is Grover?”

“Percy's friend. The satyr”. A look of anger flashed in his eyes. You knew he remembered Percy. You didn't give him time to start yelling about the 12 year old that beat him in a fight. “Grover said that he spoke to you. I asked what it was like and he said that you said that you hate kids. Even your own. And when we visit, it's the worst day of the year. So, I was just wondering why you don't like me. Is it something I've done?”. 

Ares just rolled his eyes and sighed, “you're taking that personal?”. 

“It's kinda hard not to”. 

“I came to take you back to camp, not talk about whatever crisis you're having right now”. 

You didn't know if you were angry because of what he said, or because of his effect on others. Either way, blood started rushing to your head. “I'm not asking for a lot. I'm asking for an answer. A simple answer. Why don't you like me?”

“I don't like any of my kids”

“And that makes it better?” You asked in disbelief. Ares just stared at you, emotion void on his face. 

“Why do you do this? You keep having kids even though you hate them. Why?”. 

“It's not that simple and I don't have to explain anything to you”. You wished he'd show emotion. Any sliver of it. He was too calm, too numb. You'd prefer him yelling at you but nothing seemed to phase him. He was talking to you the same way you'd talk to a toddler. 

“It is incredibly simple. Just stop having sex with mortals. You already have Aphrodite -who is a married woman but whatever-” you rushed the last part. You didn't particularly care for the affairs between the gods. “How could your eyes possibly wander?”. 

Seeing him show a sliver of anger when you mentioned Aphrodite only filled you with more rage. That’s what angered him? That’s what got emotion out of him? “Really? That's what gets you? What about me being drenched?”

“You chose to come out here” he said through gritted teeth. If you knew Aphrodite was the key to him showing any piece of human emotion, you would've brought her up earlier. 

“I didn't choose this!” Your voice rose, “I didn't choose to be abandoned by my father and be stuck with a dysfunctional family for the rest of my life. You should be angry at that, not me mentioning Aphrodite. You should be enraged at the thought of anyone putting their hands on me and your hands should be covered in their blood! That is how it should be”. 

“Believe it or not the gods aren't too keen on the idea of killing mortals”

“But turning them into various objects and ruining their lives when it's a boring Tuesday is ok?”. His face went back to being blank and emotionless and your plan to stop talking was scrapped. You weren't even sure what you wanted. You wanted him to show something besides anger. Sadness? Regret maybe? Just something to show that maybe, just maybe, he cared deep down and regretted leaving you. 

“None of us asked for this. You all just decide to create and leave us. And you hating the people you created is… I don't know. And it's so stupid that I've spent years of my life trying to get you to be proud of me, only for it to be impossible!”. 

“I claimed you didn't I?” he defended himself, but you scoffed. 

“That's the bare minimum dad! That's like saying your kids should be grateful because you feed them!” You were full on screaming by now and you wouldn't have been surprised if a neighbor came out to see what the fuss was about. “I don't even know why I'm having this conversation with you. You probably hate being called 'dad’ and you don't care. You're never gonna get it”

“I try everyday to make you see me and you do everything in your power to not see me. To not see any of us. I would work myself to death for you. I would betray anyone close to me for you. If you asked me to burn down the world for you, I would. If you asked me to extinguish the sun, I'd find a way to because to me… to me you were everything. You are everything”. 

You couldn't tell if your face was wet from the rain, or from tears of sorrow and anger. It could've been both. Your eyes certainly stung and you hated it. You knew you had every right to be frustrated, but you hated how weak it made you feel. The children of Ares weren't supposed to cry. They were supposed to be headstrong and fight their enemies. They were supposed to be fierce warriors capable of bringing armies down to their knees. They were meant to shed blood, not tears. 

You thought for a second you saw an emotion cross his face. You couldn't pinpoint it though. It happened too fast and there was a good chance you were imagining things. 

“You can go. I'd rather sleep in the rain. I wouldn't wanna be even more of a burden” you spat with such venom you didn't know it was possible. Sure, you could have a bit of a temper but this felt different. It wasn't just anger or annoyance. There was a mix of grieving. 

It went silent for awhile, and the adrenaline you felt slowly went down. Reality started to sink in. You just yelled at a god. People who were known to cause destruction for something as small as “I think my shoes are better than yours”. 

“Are you gonna curse me? Or, I don't know, strangle me with my own shoe laces?”. Ares reached into his pocket and you looked away and closed your eyes. You expected to feel a burning sensation. That's what you assumed being cursed was like. A burning sensation and then you'd lose a limb or something. 

All you felt was something land on your lap. You looked down and saw a red pouch with gold string keeping it closed. You looked up at him, but he didn't say anything. You untied the string and opened the pouch and inside laid a pile of drachmas. 

Now he spoke, “call Chiron or whoever else works at that camp. Don't die out here”. 

“You're leaving?” You asked. You didn't know why you were disappointed. You should've been happy. After all, you just went off on him about how shit he was. 

“I have a busy schedule”. You wanted to ask if he'd be seeing the married woman he slept with or another unfortunate mortal, but you figured you pushed your luck enough today. 

“Thanks uhh…” you debated on calling him dad but instead you called him by his name. “Ares”. Then you remembered some gods could be particularly upset when you used their name. “God of war and all those other honorifics”. 

“Yeah” was all he said before he sped off, leaving you alone once again. You didn't know what he was saying “yeah” to but you didn't have enough time to ask and he probably wouldn't even answer. 

You called Chiron and asked to be brought back to camp but you didn't tell him about the conversation you had with Ares. 

You couldn't get the conversation out of your head, even after you showered and laid down to finally get some rest. 

Of course you kept thinking about the conversation and how lucky you were Ares didn't throw you into the street and run you over. 

Another thing stayed on your mind though. 

You didn't give an offering. You were told the gods would listen if you burned something that mattered, like the thickest piece of meat on your plate. You weren't sure they were actually listening and honestly you thought it was a real asshole condition. 

All you had was some stupid candy and you didn't even burn that and the minute you thought about it, he appeared like he was already watching. 

But you doubted he was watching. You doubted he listened to your prayers at all. 

You were one of his children which was something he hated. He'd claim you, possibly send a gift then be done with you. He didn't listen to you anymore. He didn't watch over you anymore. 

It was a coincidence. That's all it was. 

You were sure of it. 

At least, you tried to be. 

This is definitely ooc Ares but YA’LL KNOW I’M A LITTLE FUCKING SLOW! BE PATIENT WITH ME GOTDAMMIT😭 If you saw any errors, no you did not. I already proofread it once and I don’t feel like doing it again like I typically do. It’s 1am. I should be asleep.

[theoldsports]

Married | Part II

LINK TO PART ONE

Coriolanus Snow x Reader | 5.1K words

FILTHY SMUT 18+ ONLY. oral (m and f receiving), dubcon, alcohol makes consent messy, brutal sex, blackout drunk, bad media coverage, lingerie, exhibitionism (a little), they’re both terrible for each other in the best way possible, possessiveness <3 this one gets a bit dark.

Married, back by popular demand. hope it’s okay. i worked hard, i’m a bit nervous. let me know what you thought. requests always open.

“Not a villain,” Coriolanus scoffed. “A star.”

He inhaled and set his sights towards his next objective. Already leaning in, Coriolanus pulled [Y/N]’s earlobe between his lips tantalizingly. “Now, I seem to recall being promised a blowjob, my Darling.”

[Y/N] sighed. “I had hoped you’d forgotten.”

Coriolanus smirked, inches from her face. “I never forget a promise.” He muttered.

The driver pulled up in front of them with his car and Coriolanus pulled [Y/N] inside. [Y/N] put her head on Coriolanus’ shoulder instead of putting on her seatbelt for the short drive home. She was drunk enough not to care if she was touching him, or if he was touching her. Coriolanus was touching her. He was touching her too much already at her thighs and hips. The pair of them had already broken the touch barrier that evening, but her brain was too loopy to try to push any kind of new/old boundary.

[Y/N] blinked heavily. She was able to tell that Coriolanus was already becoming frustrated with the bulk of tulle that was her black gown. It was funny for an engagement party when she thought about it, since it stood in stark contrast to her crisp white wedding gown. Coriolanus couldn’t seem to figure out how to touch her right under all the fabric as he had then they were standing earlier.

“Is your wedding dress going to be easier to handle?” Coriolanus said into the back of her ear. “This one is starting to get on my nerves.”

“I can’t tell you that. You’re not ‘pposed to see it til you see it at the alter.” She giggled sadly.

Coriolanus frowned. “Ancient superstition,” he said. “I’m not seeing it anyway. You’d be telling me about it. It’s different.”

“Nice try.”

Coriolanus’ frown deepened as he rolled his icy blue ice. “May I ask you something else, then?”

“It depends.” [Y/N] said clearly. Too clearly, really. That was the problem with drunk people, they knew they were drunk, but they tried to prove to everyone around them that they weren’t.

Coriolanus laughed at her expense. She was behaving like a child. He found it equal parts charming and frustrating. “Have you ever given a blowjob before?” He asked too loudly for [Y/N]’s liking.

“Coriolanus!” She gasped, smacking his arm.

“I’m just asking! You don’t have to strike me. Haven’t we had enough of that for one night?”

[Y/N] hated Coriolanus. He made her blood boil. “What does it matter?” She growled.

“I was curious if you had offered because it was a matter of superior ability, or because that was the only thing you had to offer.”

“You’re calling me desperate!”

“I wasn’t specifically, but since we both agree that it’s true…”

“All this was shaping up to be halfway tolerable, and you open your big mouth again. Fuck you!”

“Yeah, I know. You fucking me is what I was aiming for. Yes or no on the blowjob thing? I was assuming you had, if it makes any difference.”

[Y/N] paused. She had given a blowjob. Quite a few, actually. They were very convenient for getting out of a bad situation fast. She didn’t answer. [Y/N] still didn’t have the courage to say that in front of the driver.

“You can say yes. I know you’re not a virgin.” Coriolanus said bluntly.

Coriolanus would know that. Prior to their engagement, it was true that [Y/N] had pulled Coriolanus in for a quick fuck at a University party. She was shocked that he implied he even remembered that for as drunk as she recalled him being. [Y/N] wondered if the two of them would only ever be able to love each other under the influence.

“Can this conversation wait a few moments, we’re almost home.” [Y/N] replied.

“You didn’t have much of a problem back at the party in front of damn near everyone that’s ever known you. Is one driver going to make a difference?”

“FINE!” [Y/N] snapped. “Fine. I have, I give a decent blowie. Happy?”

Coriolanus smiled an uncharacteristically wide grin. The driver coughed slightly and loosened his tie. [Y/N] would have been incredibly embarrassed if she had any dignity left. Coriolanus grinned even wider at his driver’s behavior. His new favorite pass time was seeing how far he was capable of pushing [Y/N] to do whatever he wanted. So far, so good. Her initial resistance before her moment of breaking and behaving even worse than himself is what made this all the more fun.

The driver pulled up in front of the steps to their city apartment. Coriolanus gathered [Y/N]’s long forgotten shoes from the car’s floor. The driver got out to open the door for [Y/N]. Ever the gentleman publicly, Coriolanus ran around the side of the car to get it faster. He helped his fiancée out of the car. A Herculean task when you consider the alcohol in her system and the weight of all the fabric in her ballgown. “Come on, Darling,” he said, yanking her somehow elegantly towards the stairs, “we have business to attend to.”

Coriolanus helped her up the stairs and into their apartment. It was easier than it had been on the way out in those deathtrap heels he had purchased her.

Faintly, [Y/N] heard the door snap shut behind her and the deadbolt click resolutely. She leaned up against the wall. Coriolanus left her field of vision for a moment. When he re-entered her sights, [Y/N] blinked up at him. “Hi.” She said.

Coriolanus smirked at her curiously. “Hello.” He replied.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” [Y/N] started. She took a clumsy step towards Coriolanus and grabbed the lapels of his coat for support once she could reach him. “You’re quite pretty,” she said. Coriolanus began a laugh. “No! Don’t. Don’t do that. I mean, you’re a very attractive man. You are. Too bad that you’re—“

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Coriolanus cut in with a scoff. “Here, let me help you,” he pulled her in closer. His hands moved nimbly down her back to pop open one button after the other on her dress while still allowing her to support herself against his front. For the first time, Coriolanus didn’t care that much if she wrinkled his clothes. When the majority of the buttons were undone, her dress slid down her body and landed in a large heap at her feet. What was left under the dress was [Y/N] in no bra (which Coriolanus had not expected, even under the strapless gown) and alarmingly red lace panties, stockings and garters (also unexpected). “I… Wow,” He said cooly. His eyes raked hungrily down her body. Coriolanus had never seen so much of it at once before. “Is there a bra that goes with this?”

“Mhmm,” [Y/N] nodded shyly.

“Hm, I think I would like to see it sometime. This isn’t half bad, though,” He said. He could Coriolanus’ large hands his hands slid down her chest. His hands held her breasts firmly. His eyes widen watching her nipples pebble under the touch of his thumbs. “Why’d you wear this?”

The lingerie wasn’t the most stunning set he had ever seen—it seemed more practical than anything else— though, he could fix that. Coriolanus felt the crotch of his pants tighten at the prospect, knowing that she was already into wearing such things. He was going to call for a lingerie catalog in the morning and buy all of it.

“It’s most of what I wear. I—I like it.”

“I’ll remember,” Coriolanus nodded. She was confident he would remember. She probably wouldn’t remember saying it, though.

Coriolanus stared down at their hardwood floors. He hated hardwood. It creaked too much and only looked good with an abundance of maintenance. Coriolanus wanted [Y/N] to suck him off as soon as possible and figured that she would probably be appreciative of getting it over with faster, but his mind was racing thinking about the unsightly bruises the hardwood entryway would leave on her knees.

Then the bedroom had the issue of the rug and the rugburn that would give. Further, which bedroom would they go to? Coriolanus hated that [Y/N] insisted on staying in her own room. He would have to fix that. She was clearly just as exciting as he had recalled from childhood, it had merely taken them both a moment to get to that level of vulnerability with each other. Coriolanus decided to lead [Y/N] to his bedroom. He also decided he would insist she kneel on a pillow. He hated the look of bruised knees. It reminded him of the war.

While he pulled her along, he glanced down at her. “The tears at the party, were those real?”

[Y/N] laughed in surprise at the question. “No! Well, maybe twenty percent, if that? Because once I get started, it’s hard to stop.”

“Really?” He replied, leaning her against his open doorway. “You’re sick. I’m rather impressed. That takes a lot of… What’s the word?”

“You said ruthless earlier.”

“Yes, that too, but… It’s brilliant that you can do that at the drop of a hat. Very valuable to you. Scary for me, I’m sure.”

“… Thanks. I’ve been doing it since I was little.” [Y/N] replied dryly. She had never seen Coriolanus’ bedroom before. He had seen hers. Coriolanus thought he could barge in whenever he desired. His own room was previously off limits. [Y/N] figured it wouldn’t have been off limits had she wanted to have sex with him before now.

The room was clean, neat and lacking personal items almost entirely. There was a red rug, a vase of white roses on the nightstand and a small desk for when he took his work to bed with him. The bed, specifically, was enormous. It was piled high with pillow after pillow and the softest white sheets she could imagine. It made the bed she had spent all these weeks in look like a joke.

“Yes, as I recall, you were the fucking… crybaby in school until we were fourteen. And you mean to tell me it was fake?” Coriolanus threw his least favorite pillow on the floor for [Y/N]’s knees with a hushed thump.

“I mean, yes.”

“Why?”

“I like the attention.” [Y/N] said plainly. They both knew she wouldn’t have been so open about it without the alcohol, but boy, did Coriolanus desire this version of her. He saw her in that moment, standing mostly nude in his bedroom. He saw her for the first time for what she was. She was real. [Y/N] was a real person made up of a mess of contradictions. She was a very calculating person. Coriolanus saw that ruthlessness and that icy deadness to her. That was exactly the thing he thought he could love the most about her.

“Freak. What else can you do?”

“I dunno. I just… Do what gets me ahead. Don’t we all, Coriolanus? And, uh, when I see someone I don’t like, instead of saying ‘good to see you’ when they say ‘good to see you,’ I say, ‘yes! To see you!’ And I kind of mumble so it’s not obvious that I’m incapable of saying ‘oh yeah, nice to see you.’ You know I hate pleasantries.”

“Freak,” Coriolanus repeated with a smile. “No pleasantries then, get on your knees.”

[Y/N] walked the few steps towards towards the pillow he had thrown down and sank to her knees on it. She was clumsy when she was drinking, Coriolanus thought. More often than not, she was violently ungraceful more often than not. Coriolanus had rarely seen her be graceful at all. He liked that. He thought he’d moments of clumsiness and carelessness were alluring. [Y/N] looked helpless to him sometimes and he admired that. He wanted to be the thing that held together her broken and unsure nature. He thought of all the things he might have to help her accomplish in their future shared life together.

Coriolanus could see himself reaching easily for things she could not reach in the kitchen. He could see her being unable to lace up her winter boots due to the tightness of her dress, so he would get on his knees and do it for her. If she tripped on the sidewalk, he would pull her to her feet. If [Y/N] was too drunk to get up the stairs, he would carry her. When some strange man dared to look at her the wrong way, Coriolanus would kill him. She seemed so fragile and needy to him. Coriolanus loved that.

He needed her to need him. He wanted to be the only thing she ever need.

She was to be his.

“Stop looking at me,” She said. “Let’s get this over with.”

“Wow, that kind of talk really gets me hard.” Coriolanus walked towards her, undoing his black leather belt and tossing his coat on the floor. She thought about the amount of excess he would afford her if he cared so little for his own possessions to leave them on the floor. [Y/N] thought about her own position on his floor briefly.

“We agreed no pleasantries.”

“Come on, you’re going to be mine for the rest of our lives. At least let me look at you.”

[Y/N] tipped her head down with a frustrated sigh. He stared wolfishly at her as she knelt half-bare on his floor. She couldn’t help but blush at how exposed she felt. [Y/N] felt more on display and exposed in front of one man, the man she was to marry, than she did in front of every guest at the party earlier in the night.

“Don’t look away from me,” Coriolanus said firmly. “Those eyes are too beautiful to look at the ground like that.”

She looked back up at him begrudgingly, her eyes wide with fear, or lust. She had no choice but to watch Coriolanus popped open the button of his trousers open. [Y/N] could see the imprint of his dick against his thigh. He rubbed himself through his pants for a moment. [Y/N] swallowed nervously. Coriolanus was a broad, imposing man. The size of his cock shouldn’t have been surprising, but her eyes bulged all the same.

Coriolanus pulled his cock free of his pants. Logistically, [Y/N] was officially concerned about offering the blowjob. His long cock was what her the rest of her life looked like. She would surely have to get used to it eventually.

Without hesitation, [Y/N]’s mouth fell open as he approached. Her hands instinctually gripped the back of his thighs. Coriolanus, after loosening his tie, buried his hands in her once elegantly styled hair and forced himself down her throat.

Coriolanus moaned through gritted teeth in sync with [Y/N]’s gag when she took him in. There was little chance of taking all of him down her throat at once. Unsurprisingly, Coriolanus fucked hard and fast. Brutally so. [Y/N] hardly had a chance to breathe through her nose. Fortunately, at least, Coriolanus did all the work by maneuvering her face up and down on his length. He regulated the tempo and the pressure. All [Y/N] could do was try to swallow and hollow her cheeks out as best she could. Don’t think, just follow. I’ve got you, echoed in her mind.

Tears ran down her cheeks. Real ones.

“Fuck, that’s good,” Coriolanus grunted after several moments. [Y/N] raised her tongue slightly against him. Through wet eyes, she saw Coriolanus’ eyebrows lift and his forehead crease when she did. That was effective. “[Y/N]!”

The only sounds in the room after that were gagging and heavy breathing. Coriolanus’ breathing, not [Y/N]’s. She couldn’t remember the last time she was able to breathe, it felt like. She was really blowing for her life here, she could barely catch an inhale through her nose. [Y/N] felt herself get more and more lightheaded and she did all she could to keep her eyes open.

Quickly, she tapped the back of Coriolanus’ left thigh. It was universal symbol for this isn’t great for me. Coriolanus understood this signal loud and clear. He thought he would keep going, but almost immediately decided he would rather have a wife in one piece instead of a perfect blowjob and slowed his pace significantly. Like a good husband.

He got gratification from slowing down too, because he could see the relieved and grateful gleam in [Y/N]’s expression. Coriolanus had gifted her that relief. He was getting close.

“Swallow.” He choked out. [Y/N] turned her eyes up at him again to confirm his request. Coriolanus’ eyes were tightly shut. [Y/N] had no idea if this had been minutes or near an hour. Her jaw ached. She felt his cock twitch against her tongue as she sucked.

That was the last clear memory [Y/N] had that night. The build up of the alcohol that had been genetically modified to be strong enough to get one drunk faster, the stress, the sweat, the tears, the blowjob, the lightheadedness, the dancing, the fear and the anger all happening on one night culminated into a good old fashion liquor blackout.

She had brief flickers of memory instead of a picture of the night. She was unsure if Coriolanus had finished or not. [Y/N] vaguely remembered Coriolanus unhooking her garters and taking off her stockings. She could feel the clean sheet and duvet over her exhausted body. She swore she could recall Coriolanus’ arm over her her waist and his lips against her ear whispering something. If only she could remember what he said.

—

The next morning, [Y/N] woke up to the birds and the traffic noise. All of it sounded world-shatteringly loud. She felt sick to her stomach. What was that dreadful taste in her mouth? Her head pounded. Too much posca at her engagement party. Desperately, she wanted a cup of coffee. [Y/N] groped at the covers to drag them over her face to block out the morning light that filtered through the window.

Hold on.

As she pulled the covers over her head, [Y/N] realized these covers did not smell like her. They smelled of roses. That, and something else more metallic that lingered under the palatable rose smell. Coriolanus smelled like that. Coriolanus’ bed.

Buried in the comfortable duvet, she couldn’t bear to crawl out from under it. She was filled with panic. How had she ended up here? She could feel that Coriolanus wasn’t beside her, so where had he ended up? Had they slept together?

Had they slept together?

The phrase and all of its meanings bounced around in her head. Her hand slid down her body. She had no top on. That was a bad sign. Her hand continued further down her body and landed on lace underwear. She exhaled and let her hand flop back down on the bed. From another room, probably the living room, [Y/N] heard the phone ring. She wished it would stop. [Y/N] rose from bed with some difficulty.

It was clear upon standing up that the only thing that would make her feel better was vomiting. She dashed madly for Coriolanus’ en suite bathroom and knelt in front of the toilet, empty the contents of her stomach for a good couple of minutes. The pressure of her headache decreased afterwards, but the terrible taste in her mouth grew. [Y/N] flushed the toilet and stood in front of the mirror. She had never looked this bad in her life.

Dark ringed eyes, leaking leftover makeup and smeared lipstick, a bold hickey on her neck like a seventeen year old. What had she done?

[Y/N] grabbed Coriolanus’ burgundy robe off the back of his bathroom door and cinched it around her waist. She walked back through his bedroom. Her knees burned a bit with each step. Maybe from the heels she had worn the night before. Her eyes landed on the flat pillow on the floor right next to Coriolanus’ belt. This seemed like a bad omen.

Suspiciously, [Y/N] walked into the too bright hallway light. [Y/N] stumbled to her own bathroom and frantically brushed her teeth before facing Coriolanus. It hurt to hold her jaw open to brush her molars, but anything to rid herself of the salty, stale taste that had taken up residence. Finally then, she moved into the living room.

There was Coriolanus smiling on the couch like he was most mornings after some sort of party. His hair lacked product and lay rich and curly against his forehead. Boxer shorts and an open dress shirt with the sleeves pushed up left little up to the imagination about his body. He was so pale that he practically reflected the sunlight from the open window back at her like a mirror. Coriolanus was perfect, even first thing. How annoying.

“What time is it?” [Y/N] croaked hoarsely. Coriolanus nearly knocked his mug of bitter coffee off the end table in surprise as he reached for the remote. He abruptly clicked off the television.

“Eleven. There about,” Coriolanus replied, vocally calmer than his body would betray. He rose from the mauve couch and moved to [Y/N]. He ran his hand down the sleeve of his robe that she wore. “Is this mine?” He asked softly.

“Yes, sorry. It was all I could find. I’ll go swap it for—“

“Please. What is mine, is yours,” Coriolanus interrupted. “It suits you,” he said with a hand running across his own gold CSB monogram on the breast pocket of the robe she wore. “How did you sleep?”

“Fine, I suppose,” but what she really wanted to say was ‘what did we do last night?’ “And you?”

Coriolanus chanced an animalistic smile. “Last night, you said no more pleasantries.”

[Y/N] scanned her brain for a memory of saying that. She did not remember that phrase specifically, but she did catch a lot more glimpses of her night in her mind’s eye. [Y/N]’s strongest images were her mother’s shocked eyes, the empty glasses of posca, Coriolanus with a red handprint on his cheek, and his hard cock at her eye level.

“Coriolanus, what did I do?” [Y/N] asked, realizing exactly what she had done.

“Which part?” Coriolanus asked cautiously, sliding his hands around her waist and pulling her close. Coriolanus wanted her to feel held and ravished for a moment since he knew she would go ballistic at what was on the TV, in the newspaper, and on the lips of everyone in town. She felt like a still from an old moving picture; being held like that.

“How bad?”

“Hm? Oh, your mouth was lovely—“ he tried to expertly redirect with an innuendo.

That assumption of what they had done had been correct. Damn. “No, shut up, stop. The… The TV, the news, the—“

“Do you want to know?”

[Y/N] felt like deflating. It must have been bad. She thought back to how he had turned off the television so fast when she walked in. “I… Will I like what I see?”

“How about we sit down, Darling?”

Coriolanus sat [Y/N] down gently on the middle cushion of the couch and folded his lanky legs into the seat to her right. She looked worried. Coriolanus hated watching other people worry, it was distracting for him and often created too many new problems. He swallowed down the urge to snap at her for pouting like that. He hated pouting too considering how unproductive it was. The blonde man reached his right hand out and used a pointer finger and thumb to tip [Y/N]’s chin up so she was forced to look him in the eye. “Hey,” he said calmly. “Any press is good press.” Coriolanus repeated their mantra from the night prior.

[Y/N] inhaled through her nose. “Any press is good press.” She agreed. Coriolanus nodded and pressed a dutiful kiss to her temple to praise her for that answer. [Y/N] stared at the dark and glassy TV screen. Coriolanus clicked it on.

A fuchsia haired newswoman sat behind a desk with the regular Capitol News studio set up for an morning gossip show. The headline was plastered on a chiron in the lower third of the screen: ‘SNOW HEIR’S GIRL OUT OF CONTROL.’ In the top right hand corner of the frame was a photo of [Y/N] sobbing on her knees in front of Coriolanus’ who wiped her tears. [Y/N] wasn’t able to listen to the grating anchorwoman who was speculating about whether or not Coriolanus should send [Y/N] to rehab.

Coriolanus watched [Y/N] watch herself on TV. He grew uncomfortable when he couldn’t automatically read her expression. He had prepared himself for some tears and a temper tantrum, but neither came.

“What are you thinking about?” Coriolanus asked her. [Y/N] was too still. She didn’t respond quickly. “[Y/N]?” Coriolanus nudged her with his elbow. “What are you thinking about?”

“The headline.” She finally replied.

Coriolanus bit his bottom lip. He kept his voice as level as she had. “Okay. What about the headline?” He asked.

“Well, it isn’t very good, is it?”

“What?”

“It’s too plain.”

Coriolanus narrowed his eyes. “It’s too plain?”

[Y/N] nodded slowly. She finally ripped her eyes away from the television set and looked up at him. “It’s informative, but it’s not eye catching beyond being alarmist,” She replied. [Y/N] pointed at the TV, smiling. “That’s my picture. That’s us up there, Coryo, and that’s the best headline they could come up with? It’s weak.”

Coriolanus couldn’t recall her calling him Coryo before, even when [Y/N] had heard it from friends, family and classmates. She was saying something. He should have been paying better attention, but [Y/N] looked lovely wearing his robe. “Coryo, are you listening to me?”

He wasn’t. Too bad. Coryo. “I got distracted, I’m sorry, Darling. You were saying?”

“I said, please get me a piece of paper and a pencil. I want to work on something better and call in a suggestion for a correction since obviously—Mmph!“

[Y/N] sentence was never finished. Coriolanus leaned in towards her face and slammed his lips against hers hungrily. Habitually, [Y/N] grabbed his biceps as they toppled flat back onto the couch. Coriolanus wasted little time pressing the tip of his tongue against her lips aggressively. He knew he gave into an open-mouthed makeout too easily, but it was so much fun.

Both pulled back after some time for a breath. “Coriolanus…” [Y/N] panted.

“Coryo, please. Nobody calls me that anymore.” He said, staring down at her.

“Coryo, I want a pencil and a piece of paper.”

“You’re crazy. You want to call in a correction on a story about yourself because you want to make it worse. You’re beautiful. I don’t tell you that enough.”

“Then tell me some more after you get me—“

“Not yet,” Coriolanus said. His hands untied her robe like she was a gift box. The best present to come out of this engagement party, certainly. “[Y/N], do you know what you did last night?”

“A few things, at least.”

“Very funny. I mean…” Coriolanus sighed. His hormones raced. He could barely make eye contact with her since his eyes were drawn elsewhere. “I mean, you bulldozed your whole life. You Thirteen’d your life off the map.” he said. She nodded. She shivered at the reality of his statement. [Y/N] had nothing left but ashes. She had burned almost every bridge she had.

Except him.

“Not the part with you,” [Y/N] said. She smiled. She said it to please Coriolanus and it seemed to work. He was much easier to play than she thought he was. “You’re all I’ve got left, Coryo.” That was absolutely true. For better or worse, Coriolanus was inevitable.

“Let me take care of you,” Coriolanus said. “You’re about to be my wife. There’s no one else you need. You’re mine. I’m not going to let you fall through the cracks.” He said.

“Promise you won’t?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Coriolanus said honestly, but he didn’t feel strongly enough to really promise. “Do you like these panties?”

“Yes.”

“Shame. I’ll buy you a new set.” There was a horrible tearing sound and after that, Coriolanus’ mouth was on [Y/N]’s pussy. He licked and sucked for all he was worth.

[Y/N] did not expect Coriolanus to be good at this. All this time, she had disallowed him from touching her because she thought he would be a selfish lover. There was still potential that he was, but fuck, Coriolanus sure was good for this. His long thin nose bumped her clit as he pressed his tongue deeper into her folds and she moaned. Her hands sank into his curls.

“Don’t touch my hair.” Coriolanus said into her cunt.

“No,” She said, pulling on his hair. Coriolanus was irked, but let her do it anyway. He had never felt pleasure from someone tugging his hair like that before. [Y/N] wrapped her legs around his shoulders. Coriolanus used his strong, callused hands to hold her thighs open. He was going to make her cum with only his greedy mouth, like she had for him last night.

Quid pro quo. That was the nature of their whole operation, Coriolanus realized. It was fine by him.

It was still early and Coriolanus had the day off. He was ready to make up for lost time. He was going to make her cum in every room of their home. Coriolanus was addicted to her taste. He was addicted to her mind. All of this felt cloaked in danger; it was too personal for Coriolanus. Oh well.

By day’s end, [Y/N] wouldn’t be able to climb out of bed for a couple of days on her own. Coriolanus’ constant tongue-fucking pulling orgasms from her had turned her brain to mush, but not before she was able to force Coriolanus off and jot down a few headlines of her own while he marked up her neck.

‘GAMEMAKER’S FIANCÉE: FREAK OR FOOL?’

‘CAPITOL’S GOLDEN BOY FALLS FOR BAD GIRL.’

‘ALLEGED CHEATING SCANDAL SHAKES CAPITOL YOUTH.’

‘GAMEMAKER WALKS OUT THE VICTOR AFTER PARTY DISASTER.’

‘’WEDDING IS OFF’ SPECULATES PLINTH FAMILY.’

‘GAMEMAKER’S FIANCÉE LIES, CHEATS AND STEALS THE NIGHT.’

‘SNOW’S FALLING (STANDARDS).’

Half of her ideas dripped as moans while Coriolanus worked on her pussy. She was weak enough to do little more than pull his hair and try to clench around whatever he pushed into her. [Y/N]’s orgasm-addled mind finally comprehended that Coriolanus made her better. He made her more creative, bolder, and free from every burden except him. Finally, willingly, [Y/N] gave Coriolanus the last thing she had to give: Herself.

It felt fucking incredible

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