#m-spec struggles

[timeladix]

Friends with benefits but the benefit is giving each other societally unacceptable long hugs and generally being more touchy while literally being friends and not actually a couple

[lordprettyflackotara]

decode || ticci toby || part two

SMUT MINORS DNI 18+. tw: overstimulation, brief descriptions of blood? moral delima , choking, toby’s a lil rough but it’s okay

Toby did not come back to see you.

It wasn’t anything personal. If anything it was for your own good.

Toby thought he did a good job at attempting to forget you. It had been a few months, the sound of your voice beginning to disappear in his memories. He had protected you by not mentioning you to anyone around him. His continuous obedience made The Operator completely forget about you. This didn’t stop Toby from wondering though. How you were, what did your dreams actually mean, what kind of attachment did the two of you have? He steered clear of the missions revolving around the forest. He opted to take on more complex tasks in the city. These tasks were much more hard for him considering his gruff appearance was far from traditional. He couldn’t explain why he wanted to switch either, Masky and Hoodie figuring he must be sick and unable to feel it.

Toby never really had an opinion on anything, nevertheless a preference when it came to missions. He did what he did when instructed and went on about his day. The Operator didn’t think much about it at all, while Masky and Hoodie came up with their own conspiracy theories. The longer Toby stayed away from the woods, away from you, the better things would be. That was of course, until he was forced to run into the forest for cover.

He zipped through the trees, grunting as he held onto his leg. The bastard that was supposed to be his target had more backup than he had anticipated. Physically Toby couldn’t feel the pain, but the blood gushing out of his leg indicated he wouldn’t be able to escape much more if he kept applying pressure to his right leg by walking. Toby scanned the area, his vision beginning to see multi colored specs from the blood loss. The mansion was no where near here. He dug in his pocket, scrambling to grab the cell phone Ben had custom made for him. The glass was shattered from irresponsible care, his thumb shaking as he tried to power it on. The screen failed to flash to life, causing Toby to panic. He was careless as always, not charging the stupid magical block.

He gripped it in his hand, continuing to limp deeper into the woods. In the distance he could hear yelling, the men seemingly too scared to chase after him in the eerie forest. Toby was becoming light headed, his tattered jeans soaked with crimson as he struggled to carry himself. Without any other option, Toby had one simple thought: he was fucked. He had lost one of his axes in battle, having thrown it at an opponents skull. He was down a weapon and possibly bleeding out. If he was smart he would’ve stopped running, allowing his leg to stay still. At least then he could’ve tied something around it to try to prevent the blood loss. But his well being never came first. As a proxy, your responsibility was to never be found. Dead or not.

Toby had no doubt he had out ran his pursuers, but the risk of being found in the forest by an explorer was too risky. He leaned against a tree, his vision becoming more dazed by the moment. He was tragically dizzy, his hand scraping against the bark of the oak tree before hitting the ground as he sank into unconsciousness.

\/

Slowly blinking his eyes the sun was bright and merciless, causing him to screw his eyes shut before blinking rapidly. He forced himself to sit up, surprised to see himself in a living room. He pushed himself up all of the way, his jeans discarded and leg bandaged. "You look like shit,” You commented. His gaze landed on you, your legs crossed and a cup of tea in your hand. “Cup of tea on the table for you. Chamomile,” You offered. Toby couldn’t believe his eyes, seeing you right in front of him. He felt rather stiff, awkwardly popping his shoulders as he rolled them down his back. He reached over, grabbing the cup of tea with a shaky hand. “How’d you find m-me?” Toby asked. You shrugged, sipping your tea. “You ended up in my neck of the woods,” You replied. If it weren’t for Toby’s shock he would’ve chuckled, all of the forest belonged to The Operator.

“My turn, how’d you get shot in the leg?” You asked, looking at Toby over the rim of your teacup. Toby blinked, realizing his goggles were no longer over his eyes. “Assignment g-g-gone wrong. How do y-you know medical s-shit?” Toby questioned. You tilted your head to the side, setting your cup of tea aside. “What are you? An assassin?” You countered. Toby rolled his eyes, frowning. “W-what are you? A d-doctor?” He quipped. You leaned back in your chair, smoothing down your pajama pants decorated with little dogs. “Well played. How about I ask you something much more important?” You suggested. Toby set down his teacup on your coffee table, noting it was made of glass.

“What happened to your face?”

Your question made Toby’s blood run cold, his eyes widening. He brought his fingertips to his gashed cheek, feeling the breeze of the AC. While knocked out you had taken off his mask. Toby went to spring at you, unable to feel his wounded leg and falling over. He fell onto the floor, grunting in frustration as he glanced down at his leg. You quickly crouched down next to him, cupping his wounded face with your small hand. “Hey, calm down, I just want to help you,” You say softly. Toby pushed himself up, shoving away your helping hand as he forced himself to stand. “Y-you can’t help me. I’m a m-motherfucking p-proxy,” He spat. You stood up as well, your eyebrows furrowed as Toby struggled to stay standing upright. “Is that what this means?” You asked. You grabbed his hand, flipping it over so that his palm was exposed. You had taken off his soiled bandages, revealing the chewed away flesh from him gnawing at his hands. However it also revealed something you found much more concerning, the proxy symbol carved into the palm of his hand. “Y-Yes. It’s also w-why I must leave,” Toby said, pulling his hand away from yours. He tried to reason with himself. Your intentions seemed pure, you saved him when you didn’t have to.

You didn’t understand and truthfully you couldn’t, Toby could never tell you about his life. You could never be apart of anything that involved him. If you did it promised you death, something Toby didn’t want for you. You grabbed his arm as he hobbled over to the dining room, noticing his clothes were cleaned and folded, sitting on the table. Your grasp made him willingly stop, his chocolate eyes meeting yours. “How do you not feel that? Your leg? The bullet broke into eight pieces. I had to extract it myself,” You asked. Toby stopped in his place. He sighed, realizing he might as well answer truthfully since you’d seen all of his secrets. “I-I don’t feel p-pain. Some sort of n-neurological disorder,” He answered honestly. You released his arm, watching him unfold his clothes. Toby felt bad for a brief moment, having you go through all of this effort for nothing in return. “There’s something that keeps drawing us to one another. I know you feel it,” You said. Toby paused for a moment, knowing the tug at his heart strings made your statement true. But he couldn’t risk it. Not only was everyone in his life dangerous, but he himself was a hazard.

“I d-don’t know what you’re talking about,” Toby argued. You grabbed his shoulder, turning him around to face you. “Yes you do! You’re telling me you get shot and somehow conveniently i’m there? I haven’t seen you in months and you don’t even thank me-” You began rambling, your rant being cut off by Toby’s lips pressing against yours. Teeth clashed with teeth, the kiss hot and heavy as he brought you closer to him. Toby couldn’t think, he refused to think. If he allowed himself to have anymore thoughts revolving you, it would become an infatuation. He’d become obsessed with the fantasies, obsessed with making them a reality. But there was no reality where the two of you could be together. The closest that he could get, was allowing himself to have you just this once. He guided you towards the dining room table, watching you jump up as his lips trailed down your neck. He began sucking harshly at the skin, nipping at it with his teeth. He liked the way you shuddered under the sensation. “I’m g-gonna thank you. T-then we’re d-done,” Toby huffed, feeling his cock growing hard in his boxers.

He grabbed the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head. He quickly unclipped your bra, knowing time was running short. The proxies and/or The Operator were definitely looking for him by now. He leaned down, peppering your chest with kisses before tossing the bra aside. He brought himself to your left nipple, taking it in his mouth eagerly. You groaned, his spare hand slithering down to your clothed cunt. “F-fuck-” You whimpered, bucking your hips against his hand. Toby could feel his cock aching, dying to allow himself to fully have you. But he couldn’t and he wouldn’t. “I c-can’t fuck you. B-but you’re gonna cum on my face,” He panted, releasing your nipple with a pop. He pushed you to lay back on the table, his hands fiddling with undressing you. Toby lowered himself onto his knees, ignoring the pressure he may have been applying to his wound.

He could feel the bandage soaking with fresh blood, something Toby willingly ignored. It would give him an excuse to stay longer and it wasn’t like he could feel it anyways. Toby grabbed your legs, throwing them over his shoulders. The brunette was nothing if not a determined, even if he wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing. “S-such a pretty p-p-pussy,” He purred. You could feel your face flush pink, your hand finding his shaggy hair. Toby buried himself into your folds, mimicking what he had seen during porn. He listened to your body cues intently, noting which licks and sucks made you squirm the most. Toby couldn’t imagine anything hotter than making you cum in his face. It was not only a thank you, but also a memory he could look back on for the rest of his existence. His large hands kept your thighs pried open, his slender fingers digging into your plush skin. Toby didn’t really have any grasp of what being too rough was like, considering bruises were beginning to form from his harsh grip.

He lapped and sucked at your clit, making mental notes of what made you moan louder for him. His name sounded like heaven falling off of your tongue. Your unholy noises were shameless, echoing off of the walls. “T-Toby, please use your fingers, or something, please,” You whined, your soft eyes fluttered shut. Toby unsurely brought two of his fingers to your sopping wet entrance, briefly pulling away from your slick. He tried to listen to your body’s cues, your walls immediately clinging to his fingers and pulling them in further. You groaned at the stretch, your body trembling. Toby noted how tight your cunt was, compared to anything he had encountered in previous experiences. He spread his fingers out with a scissoring motion, before experimenting with how to make you feel the best way possible. To Toby it felt awkward, him trying to navigate the best way to ruin you. But you thought he was teasing, purposefully drawing out the experience. It was when he curled his fingers your back arched off of the table.

Bingo.

Toby curled his fingers again, grinning as your body reacted just the way he wanted it to. “You like that huh?” Toby asked mockingly, before reattaching his lips to your clit. He sucked harshly at the bud, finger fucking you as fast as he could. Your moans were incoherent babbles, your heart racing as the knot in your stomach tightened. “Oh my f- shit,” You moaned, your thighs tightening around Toby’s head. You bit your bottom lip, attempting to maintain some kind of composure as Toby devoured your cunt. Your attempt was cut short, your orgasm suddenly crashing over you as you came on Toby’s face. This didn’t stop the brunette, his fingers fucking you through your orgasm. It was only when he was running out of breath he pulled away from your clit. “Cmere,” He grumbled lowly, rising to his feet. His fingers continued to abuse your g spot, your sights dazed as you sat up. With his spare hand he grabbed your throat, squeezing the sides of it tenderly. You whined, the restriction of your airway only making you feel more euphoric. “Y-you like that? You l-like when I treat you like my p-p-personal whore?” Toby asked. He liked seeing how blown your pupils were with lust, your thighs trembling as he overstimulated you.

“It’s too much,” You whimpered, gasping as his grip on your throat tightened. He could feel your walls flutter around his fingers, Toby grinning sadistically as he shoved in a third digit. “T-too much? Cmon w-whore. Give me one m-more,” Toby commanded. You tilted your head back as brought you closer and closer to the edge. You tried to squeeze your thighs shut, Toby’s hand temporarily abandoning your cunt and slapping your thigh. “O-open em bitch,” He growled. You did as instructed with trembling legs, Tory abruptly shoving three fingers back inside of you. You finally met his dark gaze, his eyes filled with something far more sinister than you could understand as he glared down at you. You grabbed onto his wrist as you came again, your body shaking as you released again. Toby was going to continue, his own desires overriding your own, until a ringing from your doorbell made him stop dead in his tracks. He tried to not look as horrified as he felt, the brunette immediately pulling away. You swallowed, trying to get yourself pulled together as Toby scrambled to grab his clothes.

The doorbell rang again, this time causing him to hobble around hopelessly. You grabbed the remainder of his clothes, handing it to him. “Shh, go in the bathroom. It’s probably just a salesman or something,” You whispered. You guided him to your bathroom, shoving him inside. Toby grumbled to himself unhappily as he shoved on his clothes, realizing he left his axe on your dining room table. In the faint distance Toby could hear static, his heart dropping as he realized the fun was over. Without another thought he slipped on his boots and goggles, climbing out of the bathroom window and darting towards the woods.

[cheollipop]

☂˚.⋆｡ 𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙥𝙞𝙚𝙨

navi | taglist | part of svthub's fall-ing collab

pairing: lee seokmin x afab!reader

w.c.: 5.0k

genre: smut, fluff, established relationship, apple picking and pie baking and some sweet lovemaking <3

a lovers’ retreat—golden rays cast shadows over high, blushing cheekbones, flour-kissed noses and eye smiles as warm as the oven’s embrace, secrets and tender kisses shared with the starry night, and in a wooden cabin fragrant with the aroma of cinnamon and caramel, the love shared was sweeter than the finest apple pie.

☂ warnings: food/eating mentioned, unprotected sex (👎), creampie, praise, edging, some begging, some cockwarming, overstimulation (m), multiple orgasms (f), nicknames (min; baby, babe, love), some aftercare, seokmin is so fucking whipped (so is reader), there's so much love talk in this, I hate myself.

☂ A/N: nobody come for my inconsistent pie recipe, I didn't use one (also idc if you don't knead the dough, i needed it to describe seokmin's bulging muscles tyvm). other than that, this fic means a lot to me and despite struggling for the most part, I really enjoyed writing it. happy reading! :]

nsfw under the cut—minors dni 🔞

Slender fingers rounded the hanging fruit, examining for imperfections with eager eyes and the tip of a tongue held between pearly whites. The crisp air contrasted the solacing warmth of the morning sun under which you basked, strolling between green leaves and bright reds with a near-empty basket dangling at your side. You wanted him to work faster, to disregard whatever negligible bumps lay on the apples’ exterior, but you opted to remain silent, simply watching him from the sidelines while he carried on with his meticulous inspections.

Seokmin was spring. Smiles that could bring a barren land to life, vivid flora and singing birds fluttering around within the glimmers decorating his irises. But spring had long since ended, now treading deeper into the cooling weather of autumn, and yet, Seokmin still offered verve to everything he touched. Even as green turned to yellow then amber, and tanned skin rested beneath thick layers of cashmere and fleece, he still wore his spring smile—a reminder that the season of life will come again. He carried warmth wherever he went, and the biting chill attempting to penetrate thick layers of clothing stood no chance while his towering figure remained by your side.

You watched him throw the fallen end of his scarf over his shoulder, a woven cream he’d worn on your first date. Hoary yarn ends peeked out along its length, and you reminisced the store tag he’d forgotten to remove while he fiddled with his fingers and laughed anxiously before you all those years ago, so young and eager to impress. You’d mused over the giggles shaking his tense shoulders, the pretty pink painting his face and ears when you failed to rip it off in a discreet manner, and though the embarrassment was debilitating in the moment, the worry weighing down on Seokmin’s shoulders faded away as you laughed. It was well into winter when you’d walked alongside the river, steaming cups of hot chocolate resting between your palms—going cold before you had the chance to sip on them, only there to fight off the bleak midwinter breeze numbing your appendages. Young and dumb, you both were, walking by the river on a chilly day, but young and dumb brought upon you years of easy smiles and hearty laughs, unconditional love and unending happiness, all sprouting from sharing arbitrary details about yourselves with that same cream scarf draped around you both.

Dark locks now dyed the colour of changing leaves, the morning rays casting their golden hue over the wavy strands and reflecting off the specs perched over his nose bridge. Seokmin was a few inches taller now, and his shoulders broader, but the smile he wore, the sparkle in his eyes as he laid them on you were no different than those from that day by the river.

Chatter at your side dragged your attention off Seokmin’s profile and onto the family walking past you—two curious children and their parents inspecting the ripe fruit hanging before them. Scripts of late-night conversations you’d had with Seokmin flooded your mind, your face flushing and butterflies swarming your lower belly at the thought of starting a family with the man. Seokmin's fascination with learning how to braid your hair, his whispered comment—’for the future’—did not go unnoticed as he brushed gentle fingers through the stands he’d tangled in his attempts, a hint of a promise in his tone. He also promised to never leave them alone with Hoshi, which you appreciated. For obvious reasons. You were still young, and had much to experience together before taking a step that significant, but part of you was ready to offer Seokmin the world. A man who’d brought nothing bliss and warmth into your life, how could you not?

Turning your head back to the man in question, your eyebrows raised as you watched him eying the passing family alongside you, and you wondered whether the same thoughts were running through his head as well. But then his attention shifted back to you, and the amiable smile while he took you in told you everything you needed to know.

The curve of his lips persisted as he reached a hand to push the stray strands blown by the chilling breeze off your face, pinching the fat of your cheeks between his pointer and thumb before dropping them back to his side. A gentle gesture, but it lit your insides on fire, blinking quickly as you processed an action so natural to him, yet one that set you ablaze. Swallowing nervously, you redirected your gaze to the three apples resting over Seokmin’s palms as he presented the flawless, shiny Honeycrisps with a proud grin.

You giggled, “those look great, Min.”

“Only the best for you,” he leaned forward to plant a kiss onto the cheek he’d just pinched.

Flustered, you watched him throw the apples into the basket you held, his fingers brushing against yours as he swiftly pulled it out of your hand and carried on walking through the orchard. You might have missed a few additions to the small pile while you pondered about a lifetime by Seokmin’s side, and yes, the basket was significantly more weighed down now that he did. But it wasn’t that heavy.

You skipped a few steps to catch up with him, your bottom lip jutting out in protest. “Min. I can carry it myself.”

“Mm, I know,” he hummed, eyes trained on the novel batch of apples swinging gently at his eye level. “Don’t want you to, though.”

You pushed away the fondness warming your chest, capturing his coat’s sleeve between two fingers as you sulked at his side, his attention still set on those damn apples. He moved the basket to his other hand absentmindedly, allowing you more space to come closer to his side, his free arm wrapping around your waist, and head twisting to look over your moping features with tender adoration gracing his own. Leaning down, he pressed soft lips to your forehead, their warmth seeping into your skin and fluttering your eyelids shut.

Placing another one at your temple, playfulness mingled in his tone as he spoke, “Stop complaining, you’re not getting it back.”

And this time, all you could do was laugh.

The hours hurried by while Seokmin’s endless chatter kept you company, and perhaps you wish it hadn’t, wanting to treasure each passing second you shared in the presence of the man with the unwavering smile. You walked between the endless trees with leisure steps, the fingers entangled with yours occasionally dragging you with them to inspect the gradient of red and green. Some apples made the cut, thrown into the pile of spotless fruit he’d gathered over the past few hours, while others remained swaying with the gentle breeze, bruised exterior reflecting the golden rays.

A particular shade of green caught Seokmin’s eye, leaving your hand behind at your side to wrap slender fingers around the glossy circumference, rotating it gently to inspect it, going as far as leaning forward to get a closer look. Nodding to himself, he snapped its stem off and placed the weighted basket down, wrapping the apple in his cream scarf to give it a good wipe. You felt yourself salivate at the satisfying crunch sounding as Seokmin’s teeth breached the unblemished skin, and you watched the pucker of his lips as he chewed with wide, expecting eyes. A breathy chuckle contained within tightly pursed lips echoed in the back of his throat upon viewing the anticipation etched into your expression, and he moved the unbitten side towards your already-parted lips. Too focused on the apple nearing your waiting mouth, you’d missed the sly smile, the giggle he’d nearly failed at suppressing, and bit into the polished green.

A stream of its juice slipped past to flow down your chin, bitterness overwhelming your tastebuds and forcing your eyes firmly shut. A shiver ran down your spine as you struggled to chew on the unripe fruit, tears prickling in your eyes as you willed them open to glare at the man before you, hints of guilt mixed in with amusement on his face. Underneath all the kind smiles and caring gestures, Seokmin loved being an asshole.

He’d watched you persist and push through finishing the bite, too many people around now to spit it out. He even leaned forward to kiss away the tangy juice cooling over your skin, scrunching his nose at the sourness he’d willingly stolen another taste of. At least he was aware enough to take a step back once you’d swallowed the unpleasant bite down, what you thought was fear flashing across his features.

“Hey,” he put his hand up in defence before you could speak, “we share everything, right?” He took another step backward while giggling anxiously, and he nearly tripped over the apple-full basket he had resting over the soft grass. “Why should I make an exception for fruit?”

“Bad fruit,” you corrected, an eyebrow raised.

“Babe,” he started, but didn’t know how to continue, perhaps hoping the sparkling brown of his irises would do the trick.

And it almost did, you admit. But the bitterness lingered over your tongue, and Seokmin found himself scurrying away and out of the fire zone of the incoming apples you’d launched at him, laughing while you entertained the couples and children harvesting their own fruit with your lively act of revenge.

--

You smoothed your hands down the fresh set of clothes you’d thrown on, the fleece warm against your skin. The ligneous scent of your rented cabin added to its coziness, gentle winds blowing against closed windows and floorboards creaking with every socked footstep guiding you to the small kitchen.

Said footsteps quickened upon spotting bright green reflecting off the sharp metal of the very large knife in Seokmin’s hand, eyebrows furrowed as he focused on dividing the apple into even crescents. The hurried shuffling drew his attention, twisting his head just as you reached for the sharp tool, gently untangling his fingers off its handle to set it down over the cutting board alongside the botched fruit.

“Baby?” Tilting his head to the side, he stared at you in confusion.

You held both his hands in yours, flat over your palms as you inspected the tanned skin. Running your thumbs over polished nailbeds, you followed the protruding veins lining his slender fingers, all the way down each knuckle until you’d made sure he was unharmed. You enclosed his fingers within your palm, bringing them up to press your lips against, finding his pointer to plant an especially tender kiss over the scar stretching across its side.

“I was being careful,” he spoke through a melodramatic pout.

You smiled. “I know you were, Min. But let me handle the chopping this time, okay?”

Averting his eyes to the side, pretending to focus on the yellowing trees past the windowpane, Seokmin nodded, his hands limp in your hold. You lowered them to his side to cradle his jaw, tilting his head down to meet your eyes once again and staring him down in hopes of breaking his composure, but Seokmin’s pout persisted. And so the kisses began, soft and delicate over his cheekbones, forcing his eyes shut as you trailed your lips over the trembling skin. Leaning your head back, you watched his evident struggle against a betraying smile, finally curling the corners of his mouth when you’d dragged his head down with a forceful kiss to his cheek, the skin stretching under your lips while you kept them pressed there for a few more seconds. You moved away with an audible smack, Seokmin’s pout nowhere to be seen as he stared down at you with an uncontainable smile.

“Why don’t you make the dough instead?”

You picked up where Seokmin left off—half an apple chopped sloppily, which you ended up munching on while you worked—going through the washed apples to pick out the greenest, cutting them into even pieces and throwing them in a bowl of cinnamon and sugar. You remembered the nutmeg later on, after the frustrated noise at your side caught your attention, confusion raising your eyebrow when you’d noticed the powdery dough Seokmin was working with. He’d forgotten the eggs.  The embarrassment on his face was adorable, rose-tinted cheeks and restrained smile while watching you crack an egg into the crumbly mess he’d been working on for a shameful amount of time. A quick kiss to his jaw and a whispered ‘it’s okay, Min’ seemed to do the trick, though.

Tossing the last of the apples into the seasoning bowl, you sprinkled nutmeg over the shimmering crescents before grabbing a clean spoon from the dishrack, the spices’ aroma wafting in the air around you as you mixed them in with the fruit. Glancing over at Seokmin, you realised he’d begun kneading the dough, flour dusted over the marble counter as he rolled the raw crust in on itself, and as you took in the hard muscle bulging against the sleeve of his t-shirt, your fingers unconsciously loosened around the spoon you held. Your eyes wandered over flexing biceps and defined, broad shoulders, veins protruding from tan skin as he worked the dough under his palm. Bottom lip tucked between a set of pearly whites, his eyebrows furrowed occasionally while the ball gradually smoothened in his hands, growing less crumbly and eventually forming a near-perfect sphere.

Absentmindedly tumbling the apples with a limp grip around the spoon, you followed Seokmin’s movements, lower belly fluttering with every faint, airy grunt sounding in the back of his throat as he worked the dough.  Your thoughts strayed as you eyed the distracting flex of his muscles—the smile he wore, so sweet and tender, contrasted broad shoulders and the strength to manhandle you without much thought. You were almost certain Seokmin had no awareness of the fact, going about what he was doing without much regard to the blushing mess he’d left behind, the butterflies violently thrashing around within your stomach. The sparkling orbs with which he gazed at you, with charming innocence, oblivious to the effect he had on you. Perhaps that was for the best; you weren’t sure you’d want to find out what would become of him should he learn of the hidden power he’d been holding this entire time.

Sudden eye contact dragged you out of your daydreams when the man before you turned in your direction, the smooth doughball resting over his palm, and a proud smile on his lips. You held back the one threatening to break out on yours when you’d spotted the white dusting the pointy tip of his nose, some lightly powdering his cheeks as well. Instead, your chest warmed at his wordless flaunting as he slowly moved the undented dough towards you, sparkling eyes fishing for praise. And sure, you basically made the dough for him, and yes, all he did was mix the ingredients together with firm, hard-earned muscle, but the slight falter in his smile the longer you remained silent was enough to sway you.

“It looks great, Min!” You stepped closer, inspecting the roundness with wide eyes for a few seconds before straightening up to meet his eyes, “I’m proud of you, my love.”

Though a simple gesture, Seokmin’s face lit up, all but hurling the dough onto the counter to pull you into his arms, grinning into your shoulder while he squeezed your laughing frame closer to his chest. His arms still around you, he pulled away slightly, stars dancing in his eyes as he gazed at you gleefully, smiling against your lips as you got onto your tiptoes to kiss him lightly. But that didn’t satisfy Seokmin, his arm wrapping across your back to pull you back into him, locking his lips with yours once again, this time with hunger and hints of desire laced into the action. He kissed you once, twice, until he’d had a taste and realized he’d never have enough, needing sweetness and plush lips to forever bless his senses. While you held on to his biceps for balance, Seokmin was everywhere—hands up your back, over your arms and waist, and suddenly he was kissing you harder, deeper, tongue swiping across your bottom lip and teeth digging into it with a fervent want that sent waves of heat soaring through your body.

Pulling away for air, your chests heaved in unison, flush against one another as Seokmin peered down at you with hooded eyes, a spark of lust igniting the dark irises. And suddenly you were back in the present, the forgotten apples browning in their bowl, and the dough witnessing the heated exchange from its place on the counter.

“T-the pie!” you quickly diverted, pushing Seokmin away to shift your focus back to the task at hand, but you could feel his eyes boring into the back of your skull. “Can you preheat the oven please?”

An amused laugh sounded behind you at the shakiness of your voice, “yes, boss.” Just as you were about to sigh in relief, you heard him take a step towards you, his chest bumping into your shoulder and a gentle whisper blowing against the shell of your ear. “You have flour all over your face, by the way.”

And your pants, you thought, as his palm landed a playful slap onto your ass before he made his way to the other side of the kitchen.

The heat coursing through you dwindled as you fixated on the unfinished pie, save for those resulting from the not-so-hidden glances you’d stolen of Seokmin’s defined biceps as he moved the rolling pin over the dough. It was smooth sailing after that, though, missing the heart eyes directed at you as you spooned the filling into the rolled-out crust, perfectly fitted into the baking mould. You attempted to control your expressions as Seokmin tried and failed to cut straight lines out of the leftover dough, begrudgingly allowing him to place the uneven lattice in a questionable pattern, the chipper smile stretching his lips while he worked more than enough to excuse an ugly pie.

Carrying the raw pie over his head like Simba, Seokmin made his way to the oven. You held the door open for him, eyes following the baking mould as he transferred it onto the rack, gasping when his finger met the scorching metal. He placed the pie down and pretended nothing happened, ignoring the forming mark on his knuckle as he swung the oven door shut. And despite the whining and attempts of reassurance, you dragged Seokmin to the sink and ran cold water over his hand, once again kissing his pout away while you stood with barely any space separating your bodies.

His free hand slid across the small of your back, his other leaving its place under the running water to shut it off, wiping the droplets over his sweats before holding onto your hip. Leaning down, he met your lips once more, then again, until short pecks deepened, and a sharp nose nuzzled into the side of yours as he pulled you further into his body.

You pulled away with a gasp, startling Seokmin away from your lips, “the sweet potatoes!”

The initial shock replaced by softening eyes and a breathy laugh, Seokmin squeezed your waist once before releasing you. He stood to the side while you wrapped foil around the sangria exterior, offering to put them in the oven for you, but backing down at the disapproving glare you threw at him. Perhaps Seokmin had unintentionally caused a case of Pavlovian conditioning, one you remained unaware of, because the very second his bottom lip jutted out, yours were pressing consoling kisses over its plushness. Sometimes it took a few tries, but that’s only because you enjoyed watching the man—broad shoulders and all—sulk and whine when he didn’t get his way, only to lighten up and grin once your lips met his. It’s unclear who the winner was in this game, both parties working with a motive and ending with a satisfying result. Peculiar, really.

You settled down on the creaky floorboards across from the oven, your back to Seokmin’s chest and his thighs on either side of yours. His arms rested comfortably around your waist, hands limp at your hips, occasionally squeezing at the clothed flesh. Watching the pie crust brown through the glass, you basked in the cosy aroma circulating the cabin, the heat emanating from Seokmin’s body gentler and more comforting than that caramelising the sugar drizzled over the wonky lattice. Delicate fingers smoothed down your hair, and a silky voice lulled you to a tranquil state of comfort, strong arms holding you within the aura of warmth until a sharp click sounded, with the nostalgic scent of cinnamon and caramel to guide you out of slumber’s enticing grip, and back to toothy smiles and a cordial embrace.

--

The night’s breeze was crisp against slick skin, the warmth encased within the confines of the thick blankets now infiltrated through a window forgotten open. Seokmin noticed the raised goosebumps over your arms, and lowered his body until your chests laid flush, his forearms on either side of your head keeping his weight off your form.

“Cold?” he asked, lips pressing against your jaw and up to your cheekbone, over the frosty tip of your nose.

You shook your head, “not anymore,” and wrapped your arms around the soft skin of his waist.

Seokmin smiled, gentle features illuminated by the moonlight peeking through the cracked-open blinds—a cool-toned hue casting shadows over his face, moving as he pressed his pelvis closer to yours with an exhaled moan. Moving his weight over to one arm, he slid the other down to your core, splaying his palm out over your lower belly to thumb at your clit.

He’d been teasing you for so long—his cock filling you up the way you wanted, but only barely teasing your g-spot, refusing to move despite your repetitive whines; instead, he occasionally reached two slender fingers between your legs to relieve some of the arousal burning underneath your skin. This time, though, you’d reached your limit, clenching around him as a sudden high rushed through you, shaking your body within his hold.

Despite a day’s worth of lingering touches and heated kisses, a hand placed a little too low on your back, and eyes lit with unconcealed glints of want, the patience Seokmin exhibited as he guided you through your orgasm was not surprising. He’d always enjoyed giving—curling his fingers just right to take in the elegant arch of your back, your sweet taste on his tongue while he nuzzled his nose into your soaked pussy. But most of all, Seokmin savoured the tight squeeze around his cock as he fucked you through an orgasm, his breath heavy and eyes lidded with the pleasure your walls lavished upon him.

Slowly fading back into the present, you peered up at the man atop you, the column of his throat stretched as he took in the violent fluttering of your walls. But you wanted more, pent up and restless with his scent, his warm touch, occupying your every sense. And he still won’t move.

You rolled your hips experimentally, a startled hand rushing to stop you, fingers digging into the flesh to stifle the motion. “Please,” you whined, “Min, please move.”

Groaning at your tone, cock throbbing between your walls, “oh baby,” he breathed out, bumping his forehead with yours and allowing his eyelids to fall shut. “I’ve been thinking about having you like this all day. I wanna last for you, my love, ‘wanna make you feel so good.”

Arousal boiled in your lower belly, eyelashes fluttering and a shaky breath escaping your parted lips at the words whispered in the air between you. “Min-”

“Let me be good for you.”

A kiss to your temple and a few inhales were all it took Seokmin to regain his composure, his forehead still pressed to yours as he tugged you closer by the hips, languidly rolling his own into your heat. The leisure glide wasn’t much, but it sent a shiver through your body. It was as though Seokmin could read the wordless pleads sparkling in your eyes, pulling his face away just enough to adjust the angle before settling back down onto your body. Fingers tangled in your hair to keep your eyes on his, blinking in unison while you breathed the same air, gentle waves of pleasure drawing breathy moans out of the both of you, his cockhead brushing against your sweet spot every time he drove it inside your cunt.

Sliding a hand over his sweat-coated nape, you dragged Seokmin down to your lips, the sweetness of a pie forgotten outside enriching your tastebuds, the single remaining piece left over the picnic blanket alongside crumbled foil—the unintentionally discarded dessert serving as breakfast for the blackbirds to nip at when the morning came.

The hand lost in your hair found its way to your jaw, cradling your face while he devoured you, the kiss growing deeper the farther Seokmin sunk down the blazing pit of lust growing within him. His cock twitched erratically within you, pace picking up until the echo of skin-on-skin danced between the four walls, hips slamming against yours with fervour as his eagerness finally won over him. Unable to focus on anything but the mind-numbing heaviness of his cock pounding into you, your lips parted to release a staccato of ah’s, his own relentless as they peppered wet, open-mouthed kisses all over your face.

“God, you’re perfect,” he grabbed your cheeks with the hand previously on your jaw, squishing them together to lay his lips onto the forced pout on yours, “all mine.”

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head at the repetitive abuse to your cunt, squelching obscenely every time Seokmin fucked his entire length inside. “All—hngh—all yours,” you repeated, exhaling a breath you’d been holding when sudden warmth spread through your abdomen.

“I—hah—‘m sorry,” he stuttered as his rhythm turned sloppy, shuddering when he finally came. Sheathing himself deep withing your heat, he fed ropes of translucent white into your womb while attempting to keep his eyes on you, long eyelashes fluttering while ecstasy flowed through his body.  “Felt so good, I couldn’t…” he paused to lower his head, interrupted by a string of airy moans as the last, weak spurts of cum emptied out of his twitching cock. “I couldn’t help it,” he muttered.

The reassurance died on your tongue when the sensitive cock drew out halfway, only to slam back into you as though the arms bracketing your head didn’t continue to tremble with the continuing effects of his orgasm. Lifting his head back up to meet your gaze, he lowered his hand back down to play with your cunt, dipping down to feel around your stretched hole and back up to circle your clit with the slick he’d collected, a silent promise of “I’ll be good” glimmering in his lidded eyes while he watched you fall apart under his touch.

And he was, so good.

You tumbled over the edge unexpectedly, cockhead pounding into your cunt while he rolled your clit underneath his fingertips until your features contorted gracefully, fireworks exploding behind your eyelids as you shut them and tilted your head back to welcome a stupefying orgasm. You tensed for a moment, then began spasming uncontrollably in his arms, hips simultaneously jerking towards and away from his touch as he guided you through your high, languidly gliding his cock along your dripping, clenching walls, both hands now gripping the soft flesh of your hips.

And when the stimulation sent pangs of pain up your body, a whispered repetition of his name paired with limp tugs at his wrist finally broke Seokmin away from you and the bewitching melody he drew out of the perfect circle shaping your mouth. He slid his softening cock out of your heat to allow thick dollops of pearly cum to stream out of your pussy, watching as your hole clenched uselessly until your abashed whine dragged him out of his thoughts.

You found yourself tucked in under layers of thick blankets while running water sounded in the bathroom, bare feet padding over the floorboards until Seokmin—with his boxers on backwards—reached under the covers to blindly drag a warm washcloth over your skin, hoping it would catch all the sweat and cum without having to expose you to the chill air. You drew your lips into a straight line to avoid laughing at the concentration furrowing his eyebrows, cheeks flushing as he washed your middle. Any other day, Seokmin would make a big deal of cleaning you up properly, but you could see the hair on his arms raising, the autumn night’s chill piercing through his skin.

He didn’t even bother with returning the rag to its place, tossing it over his shoulder to dive under the cosy blankets with you, limbs tangling as soon as he made it there—arms circling your tired frame and legs pushing between and over yours. The momentary frigidity dissipating, his body heat seeped into your very being, and you inhaled the fresh scent of laundry mixed in with remaining hints of his cologne. Nuzzling the pointy tip of his nose into your hair, he planted a kiss onto your crown, the gesture faint as his steady heartbeat lulled you to much-needed slumber, the serene trip to dreamland occupied with solacing thoughts about a forever home within Seokmin’s tender embrace.

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[amywritesthings]

silver underground. / chapter 18.*

( Read on AO3 )

Pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader (attack on titan / shingeki no kyojin) Word Count: 5.6k Summary: flashback eight - also known as your first time with levi ackerman Warnings: NSFW!! MINORS DNI - first time, oral (f!receiving), oral (m!receiving), fingering, body worship, pinning, dirty talk, praise kink, multiple orgasms, protected sex (wrap it before you tap it, friends), smut w/feelings

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CHAPTER 18 - FLASHBACK: EIGHT*

He doesn’t stop kissing you.

Not when you both stand up in the empty supply room. Not when you stumble blindly into the hallway, cutting corners and trusting his guidance.

Two pairs of boots scramble as quietly as they can down a long, dark corridor, rushing to disappear from plain sight.

Gently Levi presses you into something sturdy and cold, lips still locked with yours. The captain's hands fumble from your waist to his pockets, digging to search for a key that will unlock his bedroom door.

All that remains in the silence are soft pants, controlled with the worry that someone — several someones —  can ruin this moment.

His kisses are open-mouthed and messy as he travels from your mouth, to your jaw, to your neck. You bend your head back with the utmost care, pressing your own lips together to avoid the noises of pleasure bubbling in your throat.

He presses a final peck at the center of your neck, as if to thank you for being so quiet once the key is freed from his pocket — and the door clicks.

Quickly Levi shoves the door open and circles his free arm around the small of your back, keeping you flush against his body. You comply, dancing through the threshold of his bedroom, and cradle his face into your palms to bring his lips back to yours.

Nothing has to be said.

Nothing has to be asked.

It’s just instinct — your feet drag backwards while his push forward into the bedroom, bringing you both safely out of the wandering eyes of the Survey Corps.

His boot swivels, causing you both to turn at his will. Your back hits a door once again, and you can’t help but laugh into the kiss. 

“Shhh,” he urges as he backs away to catch his breath. "Can you stay quiet for me?"

Click.

You grin the second the door locks behind you and whisper back. “Haven’t I always?”

His eyes open. Those brilliant gray eyes with specs of blue, intense and so focused; his pupils are blown — caught somewhere in the dark and the fierce arousal you both feel.

“Don’t get smart,” he tells you, but you know it’s about as much of a joke as he can make in the moment.

You don’t even realize until he dips his head that he’s worked on unbuttoning nearly half of your Scout uniform shirt, exposing your chest band and torso to the cool night air.

“Levi—”

His teeth nip at your collarbone. “Silent.”

The order does something to you — a vacant authority that comes with little punishment. He won’t stop unless he’s forced to or unless you ask, and there’s no circumstance in Hell where you would.

You press your lips together again, willing your eyes to stay open, to see Levi work his way to kiss every inch of your neck, your collarbone, your sternum.

You want him to cover every inch of you, leaving no patch of skin untouched. You want every part of your body to be his.

Dropping your hands from his face, you begin to push the small brown uniform skirt from your hips to drop to the floor. The fabric gives easily. It's the damn leather ODM straps that become your greatest enemy, refusing to release when you struggle with the fastens.

At first you think Levi doesn’t notice the struggle. He’s so busy running his hands along your sides, slipping the tips of his fingers past your button-down to finally touch skin.

But then his hands leave you.

You almost speak up to protest, but—

“Let me.”

He looks you in the eye for permission.

You stare back, wide-eyed and confused.

“What?”

“I said,” he slowly repeats, moving closer, “let me.”

Inch by inch, Levi disappears from your line of sight and down your chest, your stomach, until he’s eye-level with the elaborate belts looping your thighs.

Oh.

Your breath exhales in a sharp twist at the sight of his slender fingers running along the brown leather, feeling for where the buckle begins and the straps meet.

For a moment he stays right here, dragging his fingertips back and forth. 

Contemplating. Savoring.

Your face flushes when he leans in to press a ghostly kiss to the meat of your thigh between the straps. His pink lips are a stark contrast to the white fabric.

It's much too erotic to bear.

“I might fall,” you warn him softly.

“I’d catch you,” he promises right back.

You believe him.

(You’ll always believe him.)

Expertly he unravels the first group of leather straps, relieving your thighs of the pressure from such elaborate crossings. Levi makes it a point to drag the straps down your leg himself, not allowing the straps to hit the floor on their own to eliminate any potential noise.

Eager fingertips seek fast work on the other.

“Hold onto me if you feel unsteady,” he murmurs, briefly looking up to you as he starts on your right thigh.

Then you realize all too late — he has no intentions to return from his knees.

He's staying right there on the floor.

You know what he plans to do once he rids you of your trousers, and it shoots an otherworldly feeling to your lower belly.

“Levi?” you whisper sharply.

He doesn’t answer. Instead he works faster to remove the straps, tugging them down your leg to meet the left set.

“Levi—”

He only glances up once he's through with dismantling the strap belt. You press a hand to his when it moves towards the button of your ivory trousers, forcing him to stop.

“Something wrong?” he asks reluctantly, fingers still pinched against the button — subconsciously begging to get rid of his godforsaken clothing.

You swallow to coat your throat, looking down at him.

“No, it’s just… You don’t have to—”

Do that, you want to say.

Yet you pause as soon as Levi flashes a warning glare to you, like you’ve insulted him. 

“Three."

Your brows knit. “...what?”

He purposefully pops the buttons of your trousers to challenge your insecurity. 

“I once told you when we had our own place, I always said I’d give you three. This is about as good as we’ll ever get while we’re alive.”

You blink in a flurry but relent with the sway of your hips when his fingertips tap at your outer thigh: move.

Slowly but surely, your white trousers glide down your thighs, your knees, until they rest at the soles of your boots.

You kick one off then the other, never breaking eye contact.

“My fingers have been inside you more times than I can count,” he murmurs, kissing the bare skin of your thigh with a relaxed inhale through his nose, drinking in the scent of you. You press a hand against the doorframe for stability. “But I have to know what you taste like.”

The words shoot arousal like a bolt of lightning through your body.

“But you’ve already—”

“On my fingers, yeah, but not on my tongue,” he argues breathlessly, shaking his head. “Not the same.”

Another bolt, sliced straight to your core.

“Levi—”

“And once I memorize that,” he continues, not paying attention to you as he presses gentle yet urgent kisses to the east, closing in on your inner thigh. He coaxes your leg with the soft push of his free hand, spreading your thighs just for him. “And only once I memorize that, I’ll…”

He trails off, deciding against his words as he realizes that, when his back is straightened, he is eye-level at your underwear.

The black-haired man reaches for your hip, drawing a semicircle with his thumb at your hip bone.

Stalling — not for himself, but for you, in case there is a sliver of a doubt about this.

You answer by shifting your weight on your other leg, spreading your thighs further for him. The dark-haired man lets out an exhale like you’ve punched him square in the gut, gaze flickering to yours — message received.

Levi leans forward, nuzzling your inner thigh with his cheek. You tense, forcing yourself to watch his head turn inwards to kiss the softness. His eyes flutter close like he’s found his paradise, like the very venture of traveling up your thigh with every kiss gives him relief.

The tip of his tongue sensually flicks at the edge of your underwear, and your hand grips his hair with quick surprise. 

One tug and he’s smirking, open-mouthed and simply intoxicated, with hot breath gliding across the thin fabric.

He kisses the center of your mound over your underwear, and you both make a noise of want.

His tongue darts back out, catching the wetness that has dampened the fabric. In one fell swoop he yanks your underwear down, like one taste is enough to relinquish all doubt.

You barely remember your own name when he parts your folds with his thumbs and dives in like a starving man possessed, collecting the wetness against his nose as his tongue slides through your folds to find the one spot he knows will have you buckling at the knees.

For someone who has never done this before, Levi is thorough. He notes every which way you drag your nails through his hair, scratching at his scalp; how you make a small gasp if he hits a spot that jolts pure pleasure through your system; when your thighs tremble, so he does not relent.

You have to practically break your own vocal chords to avoid shouting when his tongue flicks your clit. Your hand tightens painfully in his hair, but he grunts and keeps going.

Levi swirls his tongue with a relentless determination. Like he’s been waiting for this moment, like he’s dreamed of tasting and teasing you — and you have to do everything in your power not to falter in your stance.

The frame of his bedroom door only has so much support.

Your head drops back against the wooden slab as he licks, sucks, and worships you while kneeling in front of you. His attention focuses on your clit, tongue flicking at an obscene rhythm. 

If you look down, you’ll come. 

If you watch him, you’ll fall.

So instead your jaw drops in a wordless plea, and he sucks against the sensitive nub in response. You hear the leather beneath you shuffle and his hands leave your core, running along your thighs, to hold your hips flush to the door.

He knows — know you’re getting there, from the way you’re squirming.

You didn’t even notice. You were too lost in the sensation.

Your eyes slide open, heavy-lidded and dark with lust, to see Levi lost in eating you out, his mouth buried against you, eyes closed in serene desire.

That’s all it takes.

“Levi—” you breathe, higher pitched than usual. “Levi, Levi, Le—”

You can’t finish the next syllable before your knees buckle, and he shoves you hard against the door to keep you steady — to make you ride this out on his tongue. The surface rattles only just a little from impact.

Your climax hits like a ton of bricks, and you force yourself to wordlessly cry out from the unbelievable pleasure coursing through your system.

His gray eyes glance up from your core, tongue still attacking your clit before he drags lower, catching your essence with his mouth.

Drinking you down to the very last drop.

When it becomes too much, you thrash a little against his hold.

He pulls away to catch his breath, lips slick and swollen from his work. He looks…

Satisfied. Eager.

“Holy shit,” you whisper, and he chuckles under his breath.

Slowly he gets off the floor, uniform creaking in the silence of the night. When you start to dip lower, to return the favor, he pushes you back into the door by the shoulder and shakes his head.

“I wasn’t done with you,” he says, voice a mere husk of itself.

You can smell the faint scent of yourself on his breath when he leans in, his hip pressing to yours. He’s hard as a rock.

“Levi,” you whimper when his hand returns to your inner thigh. “I wanna take care of you—”

“That can wait,” he interrupts, before placing his left hand over your mouth. Your eyes widen with confusion, but when his right hand disappears between your legs to collect more wetness, you understand why. 

You yelp into his palm when he circles your sensitive clit with his thumb.

“You can give me one more, can’t you?” he purrs in your ear, voice low. “I know you're sensitive, I know, but you can do it.”

Your eyes roll into the back of your head when his fingers glide through your wet folds to tease your entrance. Yet you open up to him like a flower, spreading your legs further to give him more room to work with. You feel his lips curl upward against your earlobe.

“C’mon, James.” 

A strangled, pathetic little whimper exits your mouth when his middle finger pushes into your, up to the knuckle, slowly massaging against your inner walls. 

“How’d you like it again? Two fingers? Three?”

You feel like you’ve died and gone to heaven with the filth coming out of his mouth. It isn’t even overtly lewd, but the sheer baritone of his voice in your ear is only making it that much easier to fight through the oversensitivity.

He adds his index finger and you whine.

“Right — you like two,” Levi remembers, “and you usually don’t last long if I—”

Your body goes limp, giving into his work when his fingers curl and tap the little spot that always gives him what he wants. He fingers you, shallow in his movements as he keeps curling the two, allowing the heel of his palm to rub against your aching clit.

“There she is,” he encourages. “There’s my girl.”

If you weren’t so turned on, you’d be mortified at how easily he works you to ruin.

“Does it feel good?”

You make a noise against his hand and nod eagerly, and he laughs gently in your ear. 

“Good.”

You let him play you like a well-loved instrument, his movements relentless and certain. The rhythm is one he’s perfected, and you know — you know he’ll get what he wants in a matter of minutes.

You’re already sensitive from the first orgasm. A second won’t take long.

He continues to murmur sweet nothings in your ear — praises laced with your first name, how much he loves watching you like this — and you know you’re no match for him.

Your walls clench around him and soon enough you tumble, dropping your forehead to his shoulder as you tremble through your second climax of the night. 

You feel weightless in the moment, a finite speck of dust in space, surrounded by the scent of your friend, your partner, your lover —

For a moment, the outside world doesn’t exist.

He finally removes his palm from your mouth to kiss you gently on the lips, and you’re awoken with the realization that you still taste yourself.

Your eyes open to find him watching you, making sure you’re okay.

You’re more than okay.

You let your body take over, wants over needs, and your hands push him roughly from you.

The captain stumbles in surprise. His gray eyes betray his shock, wide and confused, until he trips and falls back on the bed in the middle of the small room. The mattress gently creaks under his weight.

Before he can protest, you drop to your knees on the small rug at the edge of the bed.

“James—”

“Shut up,” you breathe, rising to grab his belt. 

Hastily, you rip it from the trouser loops. You're not as elegant at pulling off the leather straps as he is, but they come off all the same.

Levi sits up on the mattress, pushing wayward strands of hair from your face.

“James, wait, you don’t have to—”

“Ackerman.”

You stare up at him, only then realizing just how hard he is. He must hurt from the way the outline of his cock presses, strains, against the white fabric of his trousers.

“I’ve been dying to taste you, too, you know. And you’ve never let me before, so I'm asking now: let me.”

All of the air leaves his lungs, and a shell of Levi Ackerman remains above you.

His eyes are wide as saucers, trying to justify the sight of you on his knees in front of him.

He doesn’t stop you when you unbutton his uniform. He doesn’t move when you lean in to kiss the bare skin of his abdomen. 

“Shit. If you do this—” he starts, finding his breath, “—I’m sure as fuck not going to last.”

“Your confidence in me is guaranteed to inflate my ego,” you tease, pushing at his side. “C’mon. Lay back. Let me.”

Levi moves a fraction of muscle, but then he shakes his head. He lifts his hips, and to your delight he helps you remove his boxer briefs and trousers in one fell swoop. His cock springs free, achingly hard and twitching for attention.

“No,” he protests, “I want to watch.”

You brighten with delight, scooting closer. “Yeah?”

“Fuck yes,” he breathes. “Are you insane?”

You can’t help but giggle when your hand reaches to wrap around his length, careful not to hurt him. His knuckles turn white as he tightens his fists against his white sheets.

Truth be told, you’ve had your hands on Levi numerous times. You know what speed he likes. You know the pressure.

What you don’t know, however, is this: how to expertly get him off with your mouth, not in the way he so easily brought you to ruin.

Still, you stare up at him as you steady his cock and lick a stripe from bottom to top — flat against his shaft, traveling to the tip.

You’ve never seen Levi look so speechless by something so small.

“Oh, fu-uck,” he curses under his breath, a curtain of his hair hanging against his forehead as he forces himself to keep his eyes on your mouth.

His own goes slack, lips parted, and a flush peppers his pale cheeks.

It instill confidence, so you lick again, focusing your tongue on the tip of him. He tastes clean, like nothing really in particular, besides a tinge of saltiness.

But it isn’t until you close your mouth gently over the head of his cock that he loses himself. His bare thighs tremble as you work his length with your hand while your mouth gets used to a shallow bob, focusing primarily on his tip.

His voice disappears. His breaths are tighter and a little higher pitched than before. Cracked.

“Shit,” he croaks when you hollow your cheeks around him. “Fuck, James, shit—”

You feel powerful like this.

You get why he was so determined to put his mouth on you now.

You want to memorize this version of Levi Ackerman — so put together for the rest of the world, only to fall apart by every movement of your tongue.

“Stop.”

It’s barely a word, but you catch it within a few seconds.

You remove him from your mouth with a lewd pop, worried you might have used teeth or hurt him.

Levi has a hand on your shoulder to keep you from returning to his cock.

“I almost came,” he explains, embarrassed by his admission.

“What? But I didn’t—” You stop yourself, surprised. “I barely did anything.”

“Yeah, dipshit,” Levi under his breath, trying to catch it. “You think I need more than the image of your lips around my cock to do it for me?”

“Oh.” You wipe your lips, before smiling wickedly. “...I’m that good, huh?”

“Get the hell up here,” Levi demands, pulling you up from your armpits so he can toss you onto the mattress.

You laugh into the night air as he shifts, pressing his weight against you as he cradles his elbows around your head, caging you in.

Skin to skin.

The night's significance isn’t lost on you — lying in a king-sized bed, naked, with Levi Ackerman. To think you both used to squeeze on a twin mattress for the sake of falling asleep together. To think neither of you had ever witnessed each other’s bodies in full, clothes discarded all over the floor of his captain’s quarters.

He hovers over you, his hair framing his face in a darkened halo. You stare up at him, admiring the sweat pebbling across his forehead.

The faint glow of the moon is your only source of light; a familiar comfort.

For a few moments you both catch your breath, admiring one another like this. You want to ask. You’re sure he’s going to say no. It’s been the question on your minds for years, but now it’s—

“Do you want to?”

Levi asks first, but he doesn’t shy away from his own nervousness.

You take a moment to make sure he isn’t going to back out, before nodding.

“More than anything.”

An emotion flickers in his eyes as he regards you, before shifting your right thigh with his hand. You easily follow, widening your hips to him. He presses your inner leg to his hip, swallowing.

“I don’t…”

“What?”

Levi closes his eyes, exhaling his anxiety away. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Your hands reach between your bodies to cradle his face, and he relents immediately to lean his cheek to your palm. “When have you ever hurt me?”

“A couple of times.”

“Fighting doesn’t count.”

“James,” Levi pleads, before opening his eyes. “I’m being serious.”

“So we learn together,” you argue back, raising your chin to kiss the tip of his nose. “And I’ll let you if it hurts, I promise. It’s not like you can rail me with everyone downstairs anyw—”

Levi stops you from your joke with a searing kiss to your lips, pushing your other thigh to the side so he can settle between your legs.

“Don't give me ideas, you little shit," he mumbles against your lips. "Maybe next time."

You smile, running your hands down his neck to rest on his shoulders. "Definitely next time."

For a few minutes, that's all you do. Kiss — kiss him, be kissed, relish and memorize.

The longer he kisses you, the more this becomes real.

Neither of you have ever done this, yet you’ve never felt more ready in your life.

Your body screams to have him, to finally know him, and you hope it’ll be enough — that you will be enough.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” you whisper, and he sits up on his calves for a moment.

“An idea, yeah,” he jokes, reaching into the nearby nightstand. 

You blink, surprised to see him return with a small square packet in hand. The moment almost completely takes you out of your nervousness.

When he notices the way you stare up at him, he cautiously adds: “Regiment issued. Didn’t think I’d ever need to use it, but…”

“Oh,” you breathe, unable to hide the shock. “No, it’s just—”

“They don’t want accidents in the Scouts.”

“Right.”

“And it’s not like people aren’t fucking.”

“I know.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

A beat passes. 

Unable to help yourself, you begin to smirk. “...so you only have one of those, or—?”

Levi rolls his eyes and breaks with you, letting out a huff of a laugh as he swats your knee wider. He rolls the protection down the length of him, careful in his application. 

“If you want to do this again, then I’ll steal a pack.”

“Wow, it really pays to have captain privileges,” you hum sagely, and he quickly crawls back over you to shut you up with a passionate kiss. You happily accept the eager press of his lips to distract you from the way he gently situates a pillow under your lower back, raising your hips to sit flush with his hips.

You both remain like this for a while, kissing your worries away, before something foreign presses up against your entrance. You gasp, breaking the kiss.

Levi stares down at you with kinetic lust.

“...are you sure about this, James?”

Are you?

It isn’t even a question. You've wanted this for years.

You shift your hips, nudging the tip of his cock at your entrance. He sucks in a sharp breath, calming his excitement.

“Never been so sure in my life,” you promise. “I want you.”

Levi pauses, nodding. “If it hurts at all—”

“I know.”

“—because we can stop at any time—”

“Levi Ackerman, please fuck me already.”

Six simple words make his pupils dilate.

His breath tickles your face when he exhales, lining himself up. Although one hand stays steady on his cock to guide himself into you, another reaches for your hand resting parallel to your head on the mattress. His fingers entwine with yours, squeezing with reassurance as he pins you down — I got you.

Then he pushes, and you both gasp in harmony at the sensation.

Slowly, inch by inch, Levi works himself deeper into you. It’s a stretch you’ve never felt in your entire life.

He distracts you once the tip of him is fully inside of you by circling your clit, making you choke on a breath. The pleasure burns, relaxing your body to take him deeper.

Then it happens all at once: he backs up, sliding deliciously against your walls, before pushing forward — bottoming out within you.

Levi’s entire body is so tense as he stills, waiting for you to get used to him. Maybe it’s for himself, too, but you stare up at the ceiling with an unbelievable feeling in your belly:

This is really happening. Levi’s really inside you.

“Are you okay?” he asks, strained.

You wait a moment to adjust, then nod.

“Can I move?”

You nod again, more adamant this time.

The hand holding yours shakes as he rocks his hips, pulling out then pushing back in. There is a noise that bubbles in the back of his throat, like this is the most painfully pleasurable experience of his life, and you use your free hand to drag your nails down his back.

Levi hisses, pushing back into you. “Fuck, you feel so good—”

He continues slowly, getting used to the sensation, the motion, the sounds, the scents.

Not once does he let go of your hand, and you squeeze in return.

You raise your knees to press against his hips, bringing him deeper, and he drops his forehead to your chest. 

He kisses the tiny silver pendant at your sternum.

“More,” you beg.

“Are you sure—”

“Please,” you interrupt.

He swallows to prepare himself and nods against your shoulder.

"Anything you want." He grunts when his hips thrust once more. "Anything, it's yours."

Levi starts to fuck you, the room reverberating with the sound of his efforts and the mixture of gentle moans. He gains more confidence the more noises you make against his temple. Your body arches into the movement as the pain dissipates purely into pleasure.

You hold onto him, wrapping your legs around his waist in a way that drives him insane. You can tell solely by the way he praises you in sharp huffs, lost in the moment. 

He raises his head to capture your lips in a messy kiss, thrusting into you like his life depends on it.

You hold on, moving against him as you try to remember to breathe.

"Fuck—"

He pulls away to catch his breath with a curse, eyes still closed.

“—I love you.”

You momentarily freeze as Levi keeps going, the muscles of his arms and back tensing every time his hips snap up and into you.

Your eyes snap open, watching his face screw together in the faint glow of the moon.

You know you didn’t imagine that.

You know he just said those words.

Every fiber of your body burns brighter, hotter, at three little words.

You hold him closer to yourself, moving against him as he thrusts, realizing at that very moment the three words you’d been searching to say your entire life to him.

To the boy you shared bread with in the tavern.

To the teen who stole your first kiss on your birthday.

To the man who makes love to you now after you both defied all odds and survived the harshest winters and the searing summers and everything in-between without giving up.

He is your best friend. He is your partner in crime. 

(He is the other half of your moon, your stars, your life.)

“I love you, too,” you breathe in return.

Levi’s thrusts instantly slow.

Reality crashes down while he opens his gray eyes, the little blue specs around his irises staring down at you with a wordless fear — he realizes, then, what he's said.

And he realizes, too, what you've said back.

That fear melts to pure, unadulterated relief.

You can’t help but smile up at him when he runs a shaking hand over your cheek with such gentleness that you almost want to cry.

“Yeah?” Levi asks.

“Yeah,” you answer. “I do.”

He smiles before snapping his hips against yours. You squeak, and he repositions himself to hit that little spot inside of you that he always seems to catch with his fingers. 

“I love you," he repeats, purposefully this time.

You arch when his fingers reach to circle your clit, unrelenting, as he almost makes you shriek from his efforts. 

"Levi—"

“Fuck, James, I love — I’ve always loved you.”

Levi doesn’t slow down this time.

He watches you squirm and whimper his name as he tells you, over and over, the same three words.

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

It’s overwhelming. It’s paradise. 

You feel yourself tightening around his cock, and he groans. 

You won’t be able to last much longer, and you reckon he isn’t far behind either.

His hips stutter, groans getting a fraction louder and more urgent, as he coaxes you through your third and most devastating orgasm yet.

He feels the punishing force that your body clenches around him as you near your release and topples over to keep fucking you to the edge. His fingers maintain the same speed at your clit, a deadly combination, and a deep throb spreads through your entire body when your climax hits.

It's otherworldly. It's unlike anything you've ever experienced in your entire life.

Levi presses a devastating kiss to your lips to drink down the way you cry out his name — and to keep himself from moaning too loud when he finally comes right after you.

His hips stutter, trying to give you everything he has until you fall limp in his arms.

Then you catch him when he slumps, exhausted and spent.

The room is quiet.

The crickets chirp outside the open window.

(It's a singular, precious moment of peace.)

Levi continues to tremble against you, breathing through his nose as he climbs down from the euphoria of what just happened. You want to cry. You want to laugh. You want to hold him and never let go.

His shaking hand reaches for yours blindly, and you meet him in the middle.

One by one, your fingers lace.

After a few minutes, you realize that he's still shaking like a leaf. You kiss his forehead when he gently pulls out of you, only to collapse against your side on the mattress.

"You alright?" you whisper. "You're trembling."

"Yeah," he whispers back, voice light. "Just... give me a minute."

"Okay."

While lying on your sides, Levi moves to pull you against him, forehead to forehead.

You close your eyes, willing the tremors to disappear. Eventually they do, and he relaxes.

"Was that alright?" he murmurs after some time, fingers softly stroking your naked side.

"I've had better," you tease, and it makes him huff out a laugh.

"Yeah? Damn."

You can't help but grin, nuzzling your nose against his. "We're definitely going to need that pack."

"Several," he agrees.

"The whole Scout ration."

"The whole Scout ration?" he repeats with drowsy surprise. "Are you trying to make an honest man out of me?"

"Contraceptives don't make honest men," you reply. "Rings do."

"It kind of looks like of a ring—"

You gasp at his crude joke. "Levi."

Both of you burst into exhausted laughter, intoxicated by what's transpired. You feel high in this afterglow only the poets have ever rightly captured.

The laughter dies, leaving you both to enjoy the time you have left before morning comes.

He runs a ghostly trail down the small of your back with his fingertips. You toy with a lock of his sweat-matted dark hair.

And then,

"Maybe one day," he murmurs.

Your eyes flicker open to watch him rest peacefully beside you.

"Maybe one day what?"

"We can do the real damn thing." He's dozing off. "All the shit everyone else does."

You continue to stare, your expression softening.

"...Ackerman's not the worst last name to have," you tell him.

A tired smile grows on his lips.

He pulls you closer, and you curl around him.

Eventually the two of you fall asleep to the sound of twin beating hearts.

.

author note: oh we are so back. How are we feeling, Levi Nation? (What is their ship name? Jevi? Levames? Jamevi?) I am so grateful for your extremely generous patience, your support, and everything in-between. The reblogs/comments are the fuel that keeps this engine going.

deleted scenes of s.u. // levi's pov #1 :: levi's pov in chapter one during his first conversation with james in the trost hospital.

tag list: @lazylizzy3 @notgoodforlife @sad-darksoul @dailydoseof-love @maliakealoha @nube55 @kateastrophies @blinkingsuns @gomigami @voidszoro @tanyeonn @chishiyasan @im-just-a-simp-le-whore @nomi98 @urfavcelestialangel @milkersonmac @blossomedfloweroflove @carries-blenders-and-stuff @hurtcomfortwhore @ahxiaoshi @littlerequiem @raginginferno267 @sixpennydame @precious-ketchup @michaelaftussy34 @bananananab04 @littlerequiem @satorugojho3 @kawaiteacup

[laylajeffany]

Click here to see fanart from my fics by amazing artists on the internet!

10/28/2024: I have had reoccurring issues with harassment, security, and individuals disrespecting my clearly established boundaries in the Wednesday (2022) fandom. While I will no longer personally engage with readers, I really do appreciate all the love through kudos and comments on my stories, reblogs/likes/comments on Tumblr. I am grateful that my fanfiction has been a useful tool for those who have enjoyed my collection. I am disappointed that I have to be so stand-offish, but at this point it is for my own privacy and peace. I will continue to update stories so long as I am interested and enjoying writing them!

If you cannot see my fanfiction collection, stories may be locked for logged-in AO3 users only due to security problems/bot activity. I have no intention of removing any Wednesday (2022) stories from my profile. If they are completely gone, it was not my doing and I will not be reuploading.

Please do not redistribute PDF files of my fanfiction elsewhere on the internet.

Please do not print/bind any of my stories for personal use or to distribute.

While I would love to hear your thoughts on what you like about my stories and how they resonate for you, please do not trauma dump in the comments. I have repeatedly been made to feel very uncomfortable. I am sincerely sorry if the world has been cruel to you, but I should not be on the receiving end of you unpacking your past. I am a fanfiction writer as a hobby, not a therapist.

Beta credit to T. Martel 

Chaos for the Fly (M) Complete, Wednesday-centric, slow-burn Wenclair, mystery surrounding the 'death' of Larissa Weems and Enid's struggle with her werewolf side turns into full-blown conspiracies

Chaos-Universe Tales of Larissa Weems X OC: Lovely Thorns (E) Complete, MultiChapter, starts with Larissa's time at Nevermore and catches up with the events of Chaos for the Fly off-screen moments for Larissa and OC, Holly Gallor

Chaos-Universe Sequel: Karma in Glorious Splendor (M) In-Progress, Multichapter Completed Chaos-Universe One-Shots

The Black Menagerie (E) Complete, MultiChapter, Wenclair Influencer!Enid x Academia!Wednesday

Murder, She Woe (E) HIATUS In-Progress, Multichapter, Future detective Wenclair

Remember Death (T) Complete, Multichapter, Wenclair, some S2 Spec in 5+1 format

Completed One-Shots Crying at the Texas Roadhouse (Wenclair, G) Llama, Llama Baby Drama (Wenclair, G) Microfics

[lafemmemacabre]

🥀🔮 G A B R I E L ⚰️🕯️

BACKUP ACCOUNT for @vampiricvenus

🦇 TME • they/them (ENG) & elle (ESP) • 32

🦇 Lesbian • femme4butch • monogamous • married 🥰 (April 12th, 2024)

🦇 Chilean • mixed non-Black Latine • ENG & ESP

🦇 Hellenic Polytheist 🏺🏛️ (Culturally Catholic)

Aphrodite & Ares devotee // Hera, Persephone, Dionysus, Hermes & Apollo worshipper.

🦇 Goth since '07 • HEAVY preference for 90s goth

🦇 Autistic • multiply chronically ill • ambulatory rollator user (aka I'd love to use it full time but right now it's impossible 🫠)

🦇 Communist • anti-psychiatry • feminist

DNI ~ Not that it stops the wrong people, but...

No lesbophobes, misogynists, biphobes, transmisogynists, transphobes or homophobes.

No transandrophobia bros.

No racists (including antiblack poc), antisemites or zionists. No US or otherwise imperial core chauvinists. Your lives aren't more worthy than those of the global south.

Very much uninterested on liberals interacting with me or my posts, for the love of God please leave me alone.

I'm very against the whole m-spec "lesbian" bullshit and no you will not convince me that it's #Valid. I'm not interested in the politics of the validity of identity labels, I'm only interested in labels in their capacity to describe our positionality within hierarchies of power and oppression. Lesbian identity describes specific gender relations within our established patriarchy, and part of those gender relations is as women or women-adjacent people who do not willingly form sexual or romantic relationships with men outside of sex work or other similar survival needs.

I'm similarly opposed to TME people claiming the transfem label. Fuck off.

If you're an able-bodied person who thinks physically disabled people have it somehow easier, are more believed, or are given more compassion/sympathy, and/or you co-opt our struggles, kindly kill yourself. <3

If you're someone who thinks misogyny is Oppression Lite™ also kindly kill yourself yes even if you're LGBT/disabled/etc. I don't care. Die. <3

I'd rather swifties stay the fuck away from me purely because you're all insufferable even if the mediocre white woman you all were worshiping wasn't a snake billionaire polluter bully.

[goatcheesecak3]

Specs x f!reader

If you want the m!reader version just ask! I normally put them out with the f!reader fics, but I'm not actually sure I have any male readers, and I just wanted to get this out quickly since I haven't posted a fic in a while teehee

Warnings: none

Fic type: fluff

Summary: on an endeavour to get a new lego set, you run into an incredibly cute (yet very nerdy) guy by the name of specs.

You had just arrived at the toy shop, and entered feeling a little embarrassed. It always made you feel a little strange being the only adult in the shop, but it was worth it for the love of your life: lego sets. To say you were a bit of a nerd was an understatement, you spent most of your days discussing fan theories from shows and films on tumblr, your best friend was your xbox, and of course, your extensive lego collection was your pride and joy.

You had been browsing the lego aisle, oblivious to the rest of the world, when the album you were listening to through your headphones came to an end. Without the deafening drum of music playing in your ears, you became aware of your surroundings. You could hear two voices from further along the aisle whispering.

"Go talk to her then"

"Maybe I will"

"Go on then"

"... nah, she looks... too busy"

"Or maybe you're just too chicken"

"Hey! I'm not a-"

Both voices fell silent when you glanced toward them and gave an awkward smile.

It was two men, one tall and plump. He seemed lethargic and expressionless, as he slowly moved his jaw in circles munching a sandwich. The other was short, jittery and very skinny. When his gaze met yours he blushed profusely and stared at the ground. It didn't take a genius to figure out who the "chicken" was. Luckily for him, you found him quite cute.

You removed your headphones and confidently approached the two men, a welcoming smile plastered on your face so as not to scare them off.

"Excuse me? Could I get your advice on something?" You asked.

The shorter man looked up in surprise, he seemed somewhat like a startled puppy with his big eyes and jumpy mannerisms.

"Uh.. advice? Sure, what can we help you with?" He said.

"You see, I'm torn between these two sets," you continued, gesturing to two different boxes, "which one do you think I should get?"

The man thought to himself for a second, before pointing to the box on the left.

"Get the TIE fighter, it costs a little more but the average price per piece is cheaper, so you're saving money in the long run" he said confidently, having just done the maths in his head.

"Christ, where were you when I nearly got scammed on ebay" you joked, picking up the box he'd recommended. "I'm y/n, by the way" you smiled, holding out a hand for him to shake.

As he not-so-subtely wiped a nervous, clammy hand on his shirt, the man shook yours.

"Steven, but uh, everyone calls me specs, because, we'll y'know" he motioned towards his glasses, "and this is T-"

He looked to see that his accomplice had already wandered off, distracted by a box of sour candies.

"That's tucker over there, he's my... well we work together" he explained, stumbling over his words.

"Specs, I like that, it's cute" you said, flirtatiously. "Well specs, I don't mean to be too forward, but could I buy you a coffee some time? As a thanks for helping me out here?"

Specs breath caught in his throat as he struggled to respond. Truthfully, he wasn't expecting to get this far. Nevertheless, he knew his answer was an enthusiastic yes.

"Yes, that would um, that would be lovely. Do you think I could perhaps.. get your.."

"My number? Sure!" You chuckled, secretly enjoying how nervous he was,  what could you say,  you enjoyed the ego boost.

You scribbled down your number with the notepad and pen that specs had conveniently kept on his person.

"Call me some time, handsome " you remarked with a swift kiss to his cheek as you made your way to the till with your lego set in hand.

Specs lightly touched the spot on his face where you had kissed him, his eyes never leaving you. His heart leapt. Did that really just happen? He refused to believe it was real until later that evening, when he recieved a text

This is y/n! Are you free for a coffee tomorrow evening? X

A/n sorry this took so long! I've been on a week long bender taking a break for my mental health, so writing fics has kinda been on the back burner lmao. But please please PLEEEAAASE leave a request for me, I pinky promise I'll get around to it sometime <3

[lifea16]

Another Picrew Tag game because we can't have too many!

Link

Use this Picrew and talk about your life! (Don't feel pressured to do either tho! <3)

So.. I have a pretty normal life to be frank,

Well as normal of a life a girl with dyslexia and ADHD can have in school, which is bullied, feeling guilt for not being able to do anything sometimes, feeling afraid to tell others about your diagnosis, etc..

I was lucky enough to get a diagnosis, but I do fit most majorities where I'm from, I'm Asian (Indian, but I feel afraid to say that because people may confuse me for being Amarican-Indian/Native American), and Cis, and middle / upper class.

[My mum's a Psychologist and Dad's a founder of a small business that sells diamonds to jewelers]

I'm unsure if I have all the help I need, but I'm mostly good! Still struggle with doing anything related to school/work/whatever at home lol.

I've not told anyone other than my mum about my sexuality, but I don't really need to as I'm young enough to not have others wondering about why I've not tried dating yet, and I usually show attraction to men (Tho questioning if I just had a Lesbian phase of if I'm M-Spec, unsure if i ID as Heteroqueer or Bi), tho there was a rumor in my school that I was lesbian since I was when I was like ~10, and I didn't bother refuting it when I became older

I've recently developed a Hyperfixation on Helluva Boss, since I was forced by my YT recomendation page to learn about Hazbin Hotel, and I wanted to learn about the free spinoff I knew I could watch. Then promptly became obsessed.

Thankfully despite being bullied when I was younger, I still love myself, although when my teachers did say 'They were wrong but you actually need to work on X' because they didn't know I was Neurodivergent, it did affect my self confidence a bit, so now I take medication to help with my ADHD..

I honestly don't remember what past me wanted me to write, so sorry past me if I forgot to type anything you wanted me too

So ya, sorry for yapping, you don't have to lol, just like talking about my life, especially since this one is the first of the chain, sorry if it's a bother

@blitzosicedcoffee @blitzvo @samualjennings @amethystoceandespiser @blitzs-largest-horsiest-dildo @speakofthedebbie @toomuchdivergentformyneuro @imbatman27 and anyone else who wants to join!

(Update: Fixed tags)

[sakuraaachan]

Virtual Experience - Izuku M.

​Have you ever loved someone so much you created a fantasy virtual world to have sex with them? No?…..Okay.

Izuku Midoryia x Reader

Rating: mature, smut

Wanna submit a request? Click here

This is the full version of this story!

“Going stupid on that cock huh?”

You couldn’t speak, your body stuffed with Izuku’s cock. He relentlessly pounded into you while you held onto his shoulder for dear life.

He groans into your ear. ”Answer me baby.”

“Yes-yes- mhh!” You struggled to moan out, some drool coming out your mouth. Your nails start to poke into Izuku’s back. You're unable to see and only hold onto Izuku in hopes you won't get lost in the abyss of pleasure you were in.  

You can hear Izuku chuckle, “relax baby you're gonna make me cum too fast.”

You close your eyes, doing your best to breathe while relaxing your muscles.

“THE TIME IS CURRENTLY 6:00PM, NOW SHUTTING DOWN”

The word goes black as you're brought back to reality. You remove the headset from your face, wiping some sweat from your forehead. 

“How was that?” The intercom turns on, Mei Hatsumes voice speaking into it.

You look over at her through the glass doors, a smile on your face. “It felt so real Mei, your work is amazing.”

“Our work,” she corrects, pressing a button to release cold air into the chamber. “And of course it is a VR sexual experience you can actually feel, now that’s the future.”

The door makes a loud click as it unlocks. You grab a towel before exiting and heading up the stairs towards your shared office. 

“So you're gonna tell me why you chose Deku as your male participant?”

You pause as you enter, looking at Mei with a shocked face. “You looked at the code didn’t you?” 

“Duh! Now tell me everything.”

You sigh in defeat as you slumped into your chair, “so maybe being able to feel him up everytime he rips his suit was kinda getting to my head.”

“So that’s why you wanted to make this,” Mei allows a smirk to come over her face. “Pervert!” She shouts playfully, pointing a finger at you.

Pouting as you let out a small whine, you cross your arms. “Haven’t you ever wanted something so bad, but it was just out of reach?”

“You two are pretty close, so why would he reject you?”

“Have you seen the curves on Uraraka-san? You should have seen them in UA, it was disgusting how obvious it was that she was crushing on him,” you stare at the framed photo of you and Izuku at graduation.

“Doesn’t mean he liked her,” Mei mutters, shrugging her shoulders before abruptly turning your chair to face her. “Use the VR again.”

You raise a brow, “huh? I just got off and it’s 6:30.”

“Just go!” She persists, pulling you out the seat and pushing you out the officer door. “I wanna try something so get going!” She gives you one last push before slamming the door, you huff before going back down the stairs.

“Mei, can’t this wait for tomorrow?”

“Is someone talking?” She blankly ignores you, opening the glass chamber to the VR testing room. 

“Mei!” You groan, reluctantly going into the room. “Whatever your testing, it better be worth it.”

She locks the door as you place the body pins on your chest, you take a deep breath before putting on the headset. The system loads you up before eventually you're placed in a different reality.

“Y/n? Are you okay?”

The system specs in your eyes, loading as you get used to your surroundings. “Oh! Yes, I’m fine,” you blink a few times as your vision clears. 

You're in a fancy restaurant, one that was illuminated by an orange light setting. Across from you is Izuku Midoriya, dressed in a fancy black suit. He smiles at you, a little bit of concern in his eyes. “Are you sure? Maybe you had too much wine?” 

You giggle at his caring nature, “It’s nothing Deku, I just spaced out a bit”

He places a hand over yours. “Please...just call me Izuku.” Your face heats up at the contact, and a smile melts onto your face.

The waiter comes up to the table, a few more behind him. “Here is your check Mr and Mrs, and a complimentary champagne on us,” the waitress places a tray down, smiling at the two of you.

They walk away and you reach for the check, but Izuku grabs it from you shaking his head slightly. “What type of man would I be if I let you pay?”

“Oh, it’s okay Izuku, you do so much for me already….let me pay you back at least.”

He places his card in the checkbook, placing it down by the edge of the table. “You can pay me back later, tonight.” His voice is deep, hotter than it was before. 

“O-oh” You flush.

“Y/n? Hatsume-san?” 

Mei slams her laptop shut as an uninvited guest enters the office. “Deku! What a surprise, come here for some more testing?” 

Izuku shakes his head with a small chuckle, “I’m here to see Y/n, she wasn’t answering her phone.”

Opportunity rushes into Mei's head and her grin widens. “Y/n is just testing our latest invention,” she points out the large window and Izuku walks over to look out.  

He arches a brow, “is there something wrong with her?”

You were a sight to see, sitting down on a couch with your legs spreaded. Neck craned back with your mouth opening from time to time.

“We're still working on the name but introducing Fantasy VR, this baby allows you to have sex with anyone of your choosing.” 

“Like..transportation?” Izuku asks.

“Illusions, nobody’s actually in there. Just Y/n’s subconscious, and the code of whoever she is doing it with. ” Mei explains, watching your trembling body. “I wonder who it is.”

“Me too,” He whispers.

Your heart rate spikes up, sounding an alarm on Mei’s closed computer. The girl grabs a nearby tablet before turning off your simulation. Izuku watches as you pull the headset off, brushing the sweaty hairs out of your face.

“This is literally the best thing ever Mei, we gotta make it portable.” You let out a laugh of amusement, “having sex with I-”

“You have a visitor!” She interrupts you, pressing the AC button. Confused you look at the window, the man that had just “fucked” you standing next to your best friend.

Shit.

The door clicks as it unlocks and you pull it open before exiting. It was like the walk of shame as you went up the stairs, with every step more embarrassment built within you. “Heyyy Deku…” You enter the office, grabbing the towel you left at your desk. “What brings you here?”

You try your best to act nonchalant, despite the blush that creeps up your cheeks. Izuku raises an eyebrow, his expression a mix of curiosity and concern. "I tried calling you, but you didn't pick up. I was just worried. Are you okay?"

“Fuck, it’s friday isn’t it.” You facepalm, groaning into your hand. “Shit, I’m sorry”

“It’s okay, it seems like you’ve been busy.” He jokes, chuckling slightly at your flustered state. 

You give him a sheepish smile, using the towel to wipe off the remaining sweat from your face. "Yeah, sorry about that. I was... testing out a new VR invention Mei and I have been working on.”

“Hey lovebirds calm it down a bit, I need to use Deku,” Mei interrupts the two of you, patting her plastic model of the VR headset. “I haven’t tried this baby on a male yet, since he’s here at perfect timing.”

You shake your head at her with a disapproving look, “no, it’s still just a prototype we don’t know what the after effects could be-.  

“Sure.”

You turn to Izuku shocked, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Deku, you don’t have to do this, it’s just a prototype, the effects-.” 

He shakes his head, “It’s fine, I owe it to you guys for always fixing my suit.” He glances out the window, “besides, I’ll be locked in a quirk-proof chamber, it’ll be fine.”

“Testroom 5” Mei tells Izuku as he exits.

“Are you insane?!” You whisper yell once the door shuts. 

“This is your chance to see who Deku wet dreams about” She says suggestively, typing quickly on her laptop.

“I don’t want to invade his personal privacy,”

“You already invaded it when you made a device to have virtual sex with him.” She continues to type, “I saw an opportunity and I took it, you’ll stay single forever if you don’t take chances.” 

“What if it fails, and he likes someone else…” Your voice drops, looking down to the floor.

“Then that’s it, at least you’d know” 

“Hey, you guys ready?” Deku's voice interrupts the two of you, Mei clicks the mic button before speaking. 

“Sending Y/n in to help you with the body pins”

“What is this fucked up romance going on in your head?” You question, crossing your arms at her. “Expect me to just confess my overlonging feelings for him as I help him with body pins?” You walk over to the office door, before mocking yourself “oh Deku, I’ve loved you since high school and I created a whole sexual fantasy land because of how badly I wanted to have sex with you, yeah that sounds fucking romantic.” 

Mei spins to face you, “it’ll be something like that.”

You scoff at her before exiting and marching down the steps. “Alright hot stuff you know the drill, shirt off.” Deku complies immediately, tugging his shirt off overhead and giving you a view of his abs. He throws the cloth onto the couch in the room and you walk over and smooth a hand over his chest before placing the clips.

“So how does this work?” He breaks the silence.

 You stick on the last pin “you can have sex with anyone of your choosing, just think of them while the VR loads your subconscious into the programmed reality.”

“Hey, I’m going to get some takeout,” Mei’s loud voice booms in the chamber, scaring the both of you. 

“Okay!” You shout back, grabbing the headset and handing it to Izuku. “You’ll be in there for 30 to 60 minutes, and nothing will happen to you here…besides the moaning and whatnot but, that’s why we have soundproof chambers.”

He places the VR above his eyes, and you help fit the strap to his head size. It was hard trying to keep his green curls out the velcro strap, you have to note to make an easier way to put the headset on. “Also, try not to get into stressful situations, the headset will kick you out if your heart rate goes up too high, don’t want you to have a heart attack.”

He nods. “You said it could be anyone right?”

“Mhm!” You finished tightening it, stepping back a bit with a victorious grin. “You could have sex with Dynamight if you wanted-...” Izuku doesn’t look amused at your joke. “Yeah…that sounded better in my head- okay! So enjoy and I’ll be up there keeping an eye on your vitals.”

He lets out a hum before sliding the headset down, a second passes before you leave. You tug at the handle, but it wouldn't budge. Did Mei lock you in before she left?

“Fuck-fuck, Mei! I’ll kill you for this!” You shout, still roughly trying to open the door which still wouldn’t budge. “Aww fuck me” You curse, walking over to the couch in defeat. Now you’ll have to listen to Izuku fuck who ever he wants. “I’m going to murder you Mei Hatsume!”

As you sit on the couch, frustration and embarrassment wash over you. You can't believe Mei locked you in the room, leaving you to listen to whatever is happening inside the virtual reality chamber. You look at Izuku, who stands in front of you still unaware of your presence in the room. You should wake him up, savor the little bit of his privacy you haven’t invaded.

But…you’ve never tested interrupting the fantasy while the VR was still active. It could have very dangerous effects. Shit.

A bead of sweat drops down Izuku’s chest, and his fist clenches. You watch through your lashes, staring at the bead as it slowly moves through the maze of Izuku’s chest. How lucky.

Eyes landed on a boner sitting in Izuku’s pants, gosh and he was packing. Your eyes widen and you place a hand over your mouth to stop yourself from gasping. 

“Puppy-” He groans out, his fist clenching again. 

You feel a spark in your pussy, as you clench around nothing. He groans again, making you moan at the feeling it brought to you. “Shit-” you curse, crossing your legs before chewing on your bottom lip.

His hips seemed to thrust every now and then and more sweat rolled down his chest. It was a heavenly sight to see and you had a front row seat, but the throbbing in your cunt was becoming unbearable.

You uncross your legs and hand drifts in between your legs, pressing at your clothed clit to try and relieve some of the pressure. You moan, clasping a hand over your mouth before looking over Izuku to see if he had heard you. 

He remained the same.

You hand teases the waistband of your sweat pants, and your eyes darted at the glass wall from time to time, making sure Mei wasn’t back at the office yet. 

“Y-your such a good girl- taking my cock like this- ah..fuck.” 

You unconsciously whine, allowing your fingers to do as they please as you listen to Izuku’s grunts and cries. It felt heavenly, the risk of getting caught adding more pleasure to it all.

“THE TIME IS CURRENTLY  8:30PM NOW SHUTTING DOWN”

Damn, you glared at the speaker. Taking your hand out your pants, still unsatisfied. Izuku should have taken off his headset by now, but he remained still. 

“Deku?” You squeak, afraid of the questions he might ask. 

The male remains unresponsive.

You arch a brow, swallowing your pride and getting up to take his headset off. “Hey, Deku…are you okay?”

You pull the VR above his eyes, and his dark green orbs immediately meet with yours. “Deku?” You ask again, but there still isn’t a response. 

You're cut off when Izuku slams you against the glass wall of the chamber, the sound of the VR headset crashing to the ground making you cringe. “Midoriya-?”

“I’ve always wondered why you never call me by my first name.”

His mouth traces over your ear as he whispers into it, a shiver goes down your spine leaving you at a loss for words. “I don’t think you understand what you do to me Y/n.”

He moves so his face is in front of yours. His eyes were filled with lust, so different from the way he’d always look at you. “Say it.”

“W-what?” You quiver, feeling tiny in between Izuku’s arms and the wall. “Say what?”

“My name!” You squeeze your eyes shut as he shouts. He mutters an apology, taking a second to breath. “Please. Say my name.”

“Deku?” 

“No.” He says in a faint whisper, “my first name.”

“I-izuku,” you hesitate, unable to figure out what could be the cause of Izuku’s sudden actions. It had to be a side effect from the headset, but what could you do? It didn’t seem like Izuku wanted to hurt you, so what..-Your lips never felt anything so warm and soft, your eyes widened as Izuku’s sudden kiss made your knees feel weak. 

He caught you before you could fall, slotting himself in between your legs. Hypnotized by the drunk feeling his scent gave you, slowly you parted your lips and allowed Izuku’s tongue to slip inside.

He pulls away, moving his face into the nape of your neck. You gasp for air as finally you're able to think, but your thoughts are stolen from you as Izuku presses his boner into your clothed pussy.

“Ah-! Izuku-” You squeak in surprise, holding onto his shoulders. 

“Who did you fuck?” He continues to rub himself against you, staring you directly in the eyes. “Come on puppy, tell me who you fucked with that damned machine.”

You can’t think, looking up at the ceiling as all the built up pressure from before was finally being let out. It felt wonderful, fantastic, so good you wanted to pull away from it.

“Who.” He stops humping you, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look down at him, “did you fuck?”

You hesitate, feeling embarrassed but Izuku wasn’t going to take silence for an answer. He presses himself up against you roughly, making you speak out. “You!” You shout, “I made the whole thing for you!”

He groaned in response, “gonna make you feel so good.”

Your back hits the soft couch in the room, Izuku’s body never straying too far from yours. He tugs at the ends of your sweatpants, and you lift your butt up to help him pull it off.

The garment is tossed to the side and his hands run up and down your thighs. He brings his face in between your legs, nudging his nose into your panties and taking a huge sniff. You let out a small gasp before he’s sliding your panties off.

He doesn’t wait before he starts to devour you. His tongue licked up the slit of your pussy as he pushed your thighs up against his shoulders.

“Oh shit-!” You squeak, propping yourself up onto your elbows to watch his green curls bounce as his head moves in between your legs. He sticks a finger inside of you before starting to suck on your clit making you drop your head back with a loud moan.

You drop onto your back, filled with helpless pleasure as your hands begin to reach for something to hold onto. Your hands find themselves in Izuku’s hair and you swear you can feel him smile into your pussy.

A feeling begins to coil in your stomach, you were close and Izuku wasn’t planning on stopping yet. You started to push his head down, moaning out desperately from him to make you cum. 

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as the feeling inside you finally comes undone, Izuku laps up your juices before tapping on your leg to let him go. Once he’s released, he crawls back over you with a sweet smile on his face, one that looks so innocent in contrast to his recent actions. You're both catching your breaths, chests heaving up and down in sync.

He kisses you, the taste of yourself still on his lips, but you're too spaced out to care, caught up in your own pleasure and excitement. Your hands begin to travel down his chest, starting to tug downwards at his pants.

He chuckles. “Can’t wait, can you?”

“Shut up and lose the pants.”

He pulls away slightly, pulling down his pants and taking his boxers with him. Your jaw slacks when you see his dick, it was bigger than how it looked on the VR. He takes pride in your reaction, a smirk reaching his lips as he crawls back on top of you.

“I never want to see you use that machine, ever again,” his mouth hovers over your ear, “when you want sex, you come to me, not some fucking piece of plastic.”

His hips move slightly before you feel the tip of his dick poking your entrance. His right hand comes up to lace fingers with yours, the two of you just staring at one another intently. Slowly his hips move forward and he starts to enter you. Your grip on his hand tightens and you hold onto his arm, pain seeping within your body as he ventures deeper inside.

He bottoms out inside you, staying completely still as you adjust to the size within you. His face is in the crook of your neck, distracting you with kissing and sweet nothings.

You gasp out the breath you hadn’t known you had been holding, a small string of curses coming out of your mouth. 

“God fuck,” he whispers. “Waited too damn long.”

The feeling of pain subsided into an uncomfortable sensation, and your legs wrapped around Izuku, forcing him to move further into you. You both moan from pleasure, and Izuku takes it as his sign to start moving, going slow in case you're still adjusting. 

You cry out for him, holding onto his arms as you pleaded for him to move faster, “please Izuku, god please.” He had you hypnotized, drunk off his kisses and intoxicated by his smell.

“Ah-mhmm, haaa-” You're unable to speak, your mouth hanging open as Izuku rocked in and out of you. He captures your mouth again, the kiss is messy which only adds more to your fantasy.

“Mm fuck” he curses as he pulls away from the kiss. You start to whine out broken praises, feeling the warmth of your upcoming orgasm starting to build up. You can’t think, not a single thought is able to process in your mind, tears begin to flow out your eyes and you cover your mouth with your hand.

Your voice threatens to scream out and the lack of oxygen makes you feel slightly light headed, the room spinning around you. He groans at your now muffled whimpers, his finger going down to your clit and starting playing with it.

It felt like time slowed down as your building up orgasm tumbled down, you stared Izuku in the eyes as your entire body just stopped functioning. He doesn’t stop though, but you can feel the long thick streams of cum spurt from his cock inside you, both of you sweaty messes.

A couple more thrusts for good measure before he collapsed on top of you. The world doesn’t come back to you yet, you basically been fucked dumb. You start to catch your breath, struggling with the heavy weight on top of your body.

“Izuku?” You whisper. No reply.

You move your head to look at him, the man was knocked out. A small groan escapes you as you start to wiggle, accidentally pushing Izuku off the couch and onto the floor when you attempt to lift him.

“Shit,” you curse. 

Looking around the room, you had almost forgotten where you were, what you were doing, and you totally just took advantage of your best friend as he was not in his right mind. He was under the influence of the side effects of the VR and you completely took advantage of that! 

Your hands begin to run through your hair as a million thoughts processed through your head at once. Holy shit, you actually just had sex with Izuku Midoryia, who is not only the number one hero, your best client, and your literal best friend.

Would he be disgusted? Mortified, maybe he would feel bad for you. “Fuck!” You curse again, hopping off the couch and searching for your clothes. Oh shit, Mei! Who knows how long you had been in here with him, what if she had seen you?!

You quickly put your clothes back on, before grabbing Izuku’s boxers and attempting to put them back on him. It was the least you could do, after you exploited him. You fold his pants up and place them neatly on the couch before walking over to the door and pulling at it again. It still wouldn’t budge!

Wait a minute…this was test chamber number 5 right?

Instead of pulling at the door, you give it a small push and it opens easily. “No…fucking-” you mutter under your breath.

You quickly exit the room, giving Izuku’s unconscious body one last look before you swiftly make your way to the exit. He’d be fine, those test chambers were one of the safest places in Musutafu.

“I’m sorry Izuku.” 

It had been a week, a whole week of you arriving to work stupidly early and leaving just before Izuku’s patrol schedule would give him enough time to stop by. A whole week of ignoring all the messages you’d been receiving on your phone, most of them from Izuku.

It was a Wednesday morning, Mei would be coming in quite late since she had to run some errands across town. You were currently on a small break, taking small bites of your oatmeal as you watched your favorite show on your laptop.

But you couldn’t focus. A million thoughts and each of them were about Izuku, the way he made your body feel, the sounds that came out of him, how his tongue felt in between your legs. 

There was no way you could ever look at Izuku the same again. How could you ever apologize for what you did, and to make matters worse, you just left him half-naked in that chamber.

What could he possibly have to say to you?

“Hey.”

You clicked the spacebar on your laptop, pausing the show and turning over to the door of your office. Izuku stood there dressed in his regular clothes with a bag strapped over his shoulder.

Your eyes widen but you're quick to mask your look of surprise with an awkward smile. “Hey.”

A moment of silence passes before you clear your throat. “It’s um, very early, what are you doing here?”

He doesn’t say anything, almost like he forgot himself. “Oh yeah…My suit, it’s um…ripped.”

You hate that Mei isn’t here so you can’t just throw this onto her. With a small sigh you get up from your chair, tossing your blanket aside and walking over to Izuku. “Come on, let’s get that fixed up.”

No matter what happens between you and Izuku, you still would never want him to go somewhere else to fix his suit. It’s like cheating on your hairdresser. 

It was unbearably silent between you two. Your plan was to act like Friday never happened but it was easier said than done, just seeing Izuku made you want to clench your legs together. 

“You haven’t been answering my messages, or calls.”

There it was, the elephant in the room. How were you supposed to act like nothing happened between you two, when you’ve been ignoring him for the whole week!

“My phone has been acting weird, I think it might be broken,” you mutter out a lame excuse as you take Izuku’s suit out the bag and lay it out on the table.  Like hell he would believe that. Your best friend could make a whole new brand of phone that would be 100 times better than any phone you could buy now.

He only clicks his tongue and nods and you begin to look over the suit for the damage. “It’s over here,” you almost squeak as you feel a chest press up behind you, Izuku leaning over you to point at where the rips were.

“Thanks,” you mutter out breathlessly, his actions not helping to the throbbing in between your legs. The way his abs felt pressed against your back reminded you of how he held you up against that wall, humping himself in between your legs to pleasure himself and you. 

You stop yourself before you lean back into Izuku, moving away from his arms and over to the waist of the suit. If you didn’t know any better, you could say the marks looked intentional. Just too clean to be from a battle, and too straight to not have been done on purpose.

Should you say something? Why would Izuku cut his suit on purpose? No, no, just fix the suit and get him out of here.

You walk over to the nearby computer, typing in a few codes before the table you had set the suit on begins to move, it descended into the floor before it was covered by a glass panel. Some robot hands appeared out from the side before beginning to work on the repairs.

You finish typing on the computer, “alright, should be about 5 minutes.”

“Can we talk?”

A strong smell of bleach enters your nose, the process of repairing is almost done, and is now on the cleaning cycle. The smell is so strong you can’t find yourself to reply to Izuku. “Is it just me, or does that bleach smell really strong?”

“No-”

The smell irritates your mind, it doesn’t help that your heart is racing too. “Geez, that smell is strong,” you breathe out, stumbling out of the cleaning room for some fresh air. Izuku follows behind and though you’ve left the heavily scented room your mind is beginning to spiral. 

“Y/n, please, I just wanna talk-” he pleads, but you couldn’t listen if you wanted to run down by fatigue. 

“Yesh, yeah, we can talk, just wait here” you put your hand up to stop him. “I’m gonna go get some water.”

He stands still as you make your way to the cafeteria in the building. The cleaning room was quite a ways away now but the annoying smell of lemon bleach clouded your nostrils. You don’t even make it to the cafeteria before you sprint into a nearby bathroom and start to puke your guts out. You attempted to keep your hair from falling into the toilet bowl, but it was quite difficult as you emptied your stomach into the toilet.

You weren’t used to throwing up, you never really drank to that point, and your stomach was normally quite strong when it came to bad food. You stop puking, and rest your face onto the side of the toilet as you catch your breath.

You rub your stomach, it was strange for you to just become sick all of a sudden. Weakly your hand comes up to flush the toilet, and you carefully lift yourself up off the floor. You trudge out the bathroom, leaning against the wall as you take a second to catch your breath.

 A weird smell hits your nose, making you want to vomit all over again, and it was coming from outside the bathroom. You walk over to the door and open it, catching one of the building  workers who was carrying a plate of food off guard. “Ma’am?” She asks.

“What is that? It smells terrible.” 

She brings the plate in front of you, before taking off the cover to show a very beautifully plated breakfast. It looked absolutely delicious, but the sight and smell of it was going to make you throw up again.

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” you quickly run back into the bathroom as your mouth waters, starting to vomit into the toilet again. The worker follows, placing her tray of food onto the bathroom counter before walking over to help.

She grabs your hair and holds it up, a smooth hand running up and down your back. She lets out a small chuckle, “I was the same way when I first got pregnant.”

Pregnant? 

“But--” You try to speak in between breaths, “I’m not pregnant?”

The worker only shushes you, continuing to rub your back. Her words still don’t leave your mind, and now that you think about it, you and Izuku definitely didn’t use a condom, and he was too out of his mind to pull out.

It’s way too early for you to be showing signs this heavily though right?

Right?

The vomiting stops and you sit there and take a moment to catch your breath. The worker stands up, “I’m going to get you some soup, my mother used to make it when I was pregnant, it doesn’t have any strong smells so you’ll be able to eat peacefully.”

She opens one of the cabinets in the bathroom and grabs you a few small white towels, placing them next to you before exiting. You flush the toilet again before slowly standing up, grabbing one of the towels and running some warm water on it. 

You drag the cloth over your mouth, wiping away any residue that might be left from your previous puking session.

Pregnant? This couldn’t be real, the universe had to be just toying with you, punishing you for taking advantage of Izuku.

As you stand there, the weight of the possibility settling in, you can't help but feel overwhelmed. Thoughts race through your mind as you try to process the implications of the situation. The worker returns with a bowl of soup, and you gratefully accept it, hoping it will help settle your stomach.

The take out bowl, lifting the lid she had put on it to glance at the soup. She was right, it was odorless, and looked delicious. "Thank you," you manage to say, your voice still shaky.

She gives you a kind smile. "You're welcome, dear. Take your time and eat slowly. It'll help you feel better."

You leave the bathroom with the soup in hand, avoiding the cleaning room where you had left Izuku and entering your office. 

 Mei turned to you, her laptop was still closed which meant she probably just got here. “Whoa you look like shit.”

“Thanks,” you say swifty, grabbing your bag from a nearby couch. “I’m not feeling well so I’m gonna go home, I have a really bad stomach bug.”

Mei eyes you suspiciously, she had gotten into the habit of doing that after your refusal to tell her what happened last week. With the damages to the VR set, and your constant avoidance of Izuku, it was hard to say nothing happened.

“And this has nothing to do with Deku, who’s currently coming up to the office now.”

Shit. “Nope, nothing! Okay bye!” You burst out of the office and hurried to the elevators, spamming the button so you could get down to the garage floor. 

As you anxiously wait for the elevator, your mind races with thoughts of how to handle the situation. You can't face Izuku right now, not when you're still processing the possibility of being pregnant. The elevator doors finally open, and you step inside, relieved to have a momentary escape.

Once you reach the ground floor, you rush to your car in the garage, hoping to make a quick getaway. You start the engine and speed out of the parking lot, the weight of the situation weighing heavily on your shoulders.

Driving aimlessly until you find yourself on a quiet street, parked by the side of the road. Tears well up in your eyes as you struggle to come to terms with everything. You feel mixed emotions. What will this mean for your relationship with Izuku? And if you are pregnant, what choices will you have to make?

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions. It's clear that you can't continue avoiding Izuku or the situation at hand. Things had just gotten very serious and it was time to face the truth and have an honest conversation with him. You reach for your phone, intending to call him but stop when it rings. He was calling you.

You hesitate. Maybe you should wait. Just until you have some more information. The uncertainty of the situation weighs heavily on your decision-making process. Once Izuku’s call ends you quickly grab your phone, opening your search browser and searching up how early signs can show, and what the symptoms were.

The internet seemed to make it worse, listing each of your symptoms in many different articles. Before you know it you’re starting to cry, small sobs leaving your mouth.

You stared at one of the articles, a huge text practically mocking you. ‘It’s going to be okay!’ But it wasn’t,  it was not going to be okay.

Was buying a pregnancy test always so awkward? 

The long line on the one register that was open, the simple music they play to drown out the silence in the store. 

Standing with a hoodie pulled over your head and a stack of pregnancy tests in your arms, each a different brand, you can't help but feel self-conscious. The aisle you found yourself in seemed so distant from your usual shopping routine, and the music playing in the store only amplifies the awkwardness of the moment.

The weight of your situation hangs heavily on your shoulders while you wait for your turn to make the purchase. You glance around, hoping that no one you know sees you here. The line seems to move at a snail's pace, prolonging your discomfort. Each passing second feels like an eternity as you become acutely aware of the cashier's gaze and the potential judgment of other customers.

You were next in line, but the grandma that was in front of you just decided she wanted to take her sweet time. Pulling out her phone in request that the cashier explain the store’s mobile app to her. You let out a small groan of frustration, starting to tap your foot on the ground.

“Y/n?”

You freeze. Hoping that maybe whoever called your name would figure it wasn’t you.

You almost jump at the small tap of your shoulder, slowly turning around to meet the face of Uraraka. 

“Ohhh heyyy Uraraka,” you extended out the words, trying to act surprised. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh I was just patrolling around and wanted to grab a snack,” she says with a sweet smile. “What are you-“ she glances down at the unmistakable items in your hands.

You drop all the pregnancy tests onto the conveyor belt, “I’m  just grabbing some items for a friend!” The transaction feels like it takes forever as you fumble for your wallet, your fingers seemingly incapable of functioning properly. 

“You know, Deku has been asking about you.” Her voice turns into one of worry, “he says you haven’t been answering his calls.” 

You feel a mix of relief and anxiety as Uraraka believes your hurried explanation and doesn't press further about the pregnancy tests. However, her mention of Izuku only adds to your growing unease.

"Yeah, I've just been really busy lately," you reply, attempting to sound nonchalant as you finally locate your wallet and pay for the items. "Lots of stuff going on, you know?"

Uraraka studies your face for a moment, her concern evident in her eyes. She reaches out and gently touches your arm.

"Y/n, if something's bothering you, you can always talk to me," she offers, her voice filled with sincerity.

 “Well, I really have to go.” You tell the cashier to keep the change, grabbing your plastic bag. “Bye Uraraka,” you say quickly before walking out the store. 

The one thing that could have gone wrong, went really fucking wrong. Uraraka would definitely tell Izuku that she saw you here. You purposely came out into the store when you knew Izuku would be across town patrolling so you wouldn’t have to run into him.

You look at the tests in your bag, it felt like the word ‘pregnancy’ that’s printed on the box was just mocking you. You throw the bag into the passenger seat of your car before getting in, leaning your head on the top of the steering wheel.

“Fuck…fuck!”

You contemplate your options, the right thing to do here was to stop being such a coward and tell Izuku straight up. But you weren’t going to do that, not yet. So you decided on locking yourself in your home until you gained the courage.

While navigating through the street you mind seems to torture you with all types of different sinarios , each of them ending with Izuku finding out and hating you forever.

You step out of the car, once you arrive home, and retrieve the bag of pregnancy tests from the passenger seat. As you enter your apartment, you close the door behind you, creating a barrier between yourself and the outside world. The familiar surroundings offer a temporary sanctuary, shielding you from the uncertainties that have been plaguing your mind.

You toss the bag onto the table, walking over to your fridge and taking out a gallon of water. You were going to need a lot of pee. As you chug down glass after glass, you find yourself pacing back and forth, your thoughts consumed. It is important that you stay honest with Izuku here, but fear grips you tightly.

Sitting down at the table, you reach for the bag of pregnancy tests and carefully examine them. Each test represents a potential answer to the question that has been haunting you. The longer you keep this secret, the harder it will be to face the consequences and find a resolution.

You take the bag and head to the bathroom. Filled with anxiety and hope, you follow the instructions carefully and lay out the multitude of tests you had on the counter. 

You sat on the edge of your bathtub, biting down onto your knuckles as you awaited for some form of answer, but your wait was swiftly interrupted by a knock on your door.

Startled by the knock on the door, you quickly stand up, leaving the pregnancy tests on the counter. Your heart races, wondering who could be at your door at a time like this. The interruption adds another layer of tension to an already overwhelming situation.

Your heart almost stops as you peek through the peephole, it’s Deku and he’s holding many brown bags. You want to ignore his knocks, pretend like you weren’t home. But he calls out for you.

“I know you in there. Just open up please.”

Despite the fear inside you demanding you to say no, you opened the door to your friend. “Hey.”

"Hey, Izuku," you reply, trying to keep your voice steady. "What brings you here?"

Izuku shifts nervously, his gaze flickering from your face to the ground and back again. "I've been trying to reach you, but you haven't been answering my calls or messages," he says, his voice filled with genuine worry. "I was really concerned. Are you okay?"

You swallow hard, the weight of your secret pressing heavily upon you. You're not ready to face the potential consequences and the impact it may have on your relationship with him.

"I... I've just been dealing with some personal stuff," you manage to say, though your voice quivers slightly. "I needed some time alone."

Izuku's concern deepens, and he steps closer, his eyes searching yours for answers. "Y/n, you know you can always talk to me, right? I'm here for you."

His words are filled with sincerity, and a part of you longs to open up and let him in. But the fear of his reaction and the uncertain future holds you back. You can't bear to lose his friendship, especially not now. You change the subject.

“What cha got there?” You point to the brown bags in his hands. 

“Oh- these, some grocery, figured we could make some dinner together.” He says sweetly, walking inside and placing the bags onto the countertop. “I got all the ingredients to make your favorite.”

A small smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you step closer to inspect the contents of the bags. Izuku's gesture brings a sense of comfort and normalcy to the moment.

As you unpack the groceries together, a sense of ease settles over the room. Throughout the cooking process, conversation flows easily between you. You discuss everyday topics, while he shares villain stories, and engage in laughter that momentarily lifts the weight from your heart.

“You should have seen Mei’s face, she looked more pissed than Bakugou” you chuckle as you chop the carrots. Izuku's laughter is warm, his peace bringing the same butterflies you felt in highschool to your stomach. 

 "She does have that fiery temper, doesn't she? It must have been quite a sight." He says, standing over by the large pot. You glance over at him, he looks silly with the apron you forced him to wear, but you couldn’t love him any less. It's in these moments that you realize how much you cherish his presence and the connection you share. But there is something important hanging in the air between you.

But for now, you choose to enjoy the simplicity of the present, relishing in the familiar banter that has always made your friendship special. Until a sharp pain shoots through your finger as your hand slips and the knife almost chops your thumb off.

“Shit!” You curse at the pain, holding your hand up and seeing the crimson blood flow out the wound. 

“What happened?” Izuku turns around immediately, grabbing a paper towel to help you with the bleeding. “Where’s your first aid kit?”

“The bathroom,” you say, putting pressure on the wound as he leaves the kitchen and walks down the hallway. The pain throbs through your finger, causing you to wince, but none of that matters when you remember what you had laid out in the bathroom.

The pregnancy test!

You follow Izuku's hurried footsteps with your eyes, cursing him in your mind for his quickness. The pain in your injured finger momentarily fades into the background as your thoughts are consumed by the pregnancy tests laid out in the bathroom. But it’s too late. 

He’d paused in the bathroom doorway, eyes set on the multiple pregnancy tests on the bathroom counter. You peaked over his broad shoulder, they still had yet to show results. 

Izuku turns his head slightly, glancing at you with surprise, concern, and a hint of fear in his eyes. He opens his mouth to say something, but the words seem to escape him, lost in the moment. His brows furrowed in confusion, searching for an explanation that you have yet to give.

He finally summons the courage to speak. “You’re pregnant?” 

“I-I don’t know yet,” you mutter.

He’s fully turned around now, looking at you with an intense eye. “Is this why you’ve been avoiding me? If you thought I wouldn’t take responsibility-”

“Wait- you remember that night?” The words escape your lips before you can stop yourself.

Izuku's expression softens. "Yes, I remember," he replies, his voice laced with vulnerability. "I've been trying to reach out to you, to talk about it, but you've been avoiding me."

Guilt gnaws at you, and you lower your gaze, unable to meet his eye. "I didn't know how to face you, Izuku. I was scared and confused. I took advantage of you…."

“Took advantage?” He repeats humorously. “Y/n…I was well aware of what I was doing. If anything, I took advantage of you.”

Now you were at a loss for words. You stutter as the guilt and self-blame that had been weighing heavily on you start to dissipate. “No, no, it was a side effect, from the VR.”

“Well, maybe it influenced me,” he shakes his head. “But it was you I had in that simulation, and when I saw you in the room with me, I couldn’t help myself.”

You stand there, stunned by Izuku's words. "Izuku," you say. "I didn't know. I thought I had crossed a line, that I had taken advantage of you."

He reaches out, gently wiping away a tear from your cheek. A wave of warmth spreads through your chest. The barriers that had kept you apart crumble, and a renewed sense of closeness envelops you both.

But the moment is interrupted by a loud beep from one of the electronic tests you had bought. With a quick glance at each other, you both swiftly made your way back into the bathroom, each test fading in a result. 

Not Pregnant. 

You could almost pass out from the relief you felt, another tear slipping out your eye. You begin to laugh at yourself, a self-deprecating laugh.

Izuku puts his hand on your shoulder, pulling you close. “What’s so funny?”

“I was so stressed out for nothing,” you say with a sigh. “I literally thought my life was over.”

He pouts, “and what’s so life ruining about being pregnant with my kid?”

You can't help but chuckle at Izuku's playful response, his words easing the tension that had built up inside you. You lean into his embrace, feeling a sense of warmth and comfort enveloping you.

"You're right," you reply, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Being pregnant with your child doesn't sound so bad after all."

“Great.” He says, lifting you up easily into his arms. “Then you won’t mind trying again.” 

©LuvloveUni

[queer-otherkin]

Intro post: know more about me!

Read my DNI at the end of the post!!

About me!

hey! My name is Icarus, but you can also call me berry. I'm 17, Brazilian and non human. I am a spiritual and psychological therian/otherkin - And I want to interact more with the non human community!

I am (always) questioning my theoriotype, but I think I am shapeshifterkin (I mostly take the form of a black wolf).

I'm also neurodivergent (in the sense that my brain works differently) specifically, I struggle with mental illnesses. Mostly with depression, anxiety, my bpd, dissociation and delusions (my therianthropy isn't caused by that).

Another thing about me is that practice witchcraft and am an age regressor. So don't interact if you don't feel comfortable with those things.

About dms/asks/etc

Dms are closed for now!!

About discourse/BYI (before you interact):

I'm m-spec neutral (haven't read about it enough), and won't be dealing with syscorse in this account (you guys scare me/hj).

So, yeah! The last thing I want to say is that I don't stand for witch hunting anyone for their Identity, opinions or anything else. Unless they go shame someone else first (misgendering/invalidating, etc)

Have a great day, lovely beings :]

My DNI (do not interact):

DNI: NSFW, pro ana/sh blogs, thinks that agere is nsfw/anti agere, anti non human identities, participate in cringe culture and/or fake claiming, anti pan/ace, displays discriminatory tendencies around religions, basic DNI criteria (homophobic, transphobic, <yes, terfs are absolutely aincluded>, racists, proship, etc)

[idkwhattowritebutiwrite]

Kinktober Day 1: Bondage

Fandom: Gravity Falls

Pairing: [Human] Bill Cipher x Stanford Pines

Contents: bondage (duh lol), chains, not cannon compliant, praise, degradation, very little plot, biting, hickeys, finger sucking, fingering, anal sex, begging, use of "my muse" as a title, no aftercare, humiliation, T O X I C

🔞NSFW UNDER THE CUT MINORS DNI🔞

"Struggling won't do you much, Sixer!" Bill chuckled, amused by the sight of his poor puppet struggling against the chains that bound him. "But keep going if you want to, I could watch this all day!"

"Let me go!" Ford shouted, struggling to pull his arms free. The glowing blue chains around his wrist, ankles, and mid-section were just tight enough to be aware of them, but not enough to hurt him in the slightest. Bill didn't want to hurt him though; he knew what he was doing.

"This is adorable, Specs. You really think a little shouting and struggling is going to stop me?" Bill laughed at Ford. "This is just like old times, you know? Me and you, these beautiful blue chains holding you down while I-"

"Enough!" Ford shouted, finally giving in and hanging limply from the chains, knowing his struggling would do no good.

"What's the matter, Fordsy? Don't want to think about all those times I'd have my hands all over you. Running them though your hair, down your body, onto your hard, dripping..." Bill looked down to see just what he expected.

Ford was bright red, sweating and panting from his prior struggle, and in his slacks was a raging hard on.

"Someone seems to like the memories." Bill chuckled. He floats towards Ford and reaches a hand towards him. Ford turns his face away, but Bill grabbed his chin to make eye contact. Bill smirked at the blush growing on Fords face before laughing at him. "Your pathetic, you know? All this work to try and defeat me, yet here you are, turned on by just a couple sentences. Admit it, after all these years, you still want me."

Ford stared wide eyed. Bill grabbed his chin harder, yanking him forward a bit more, the chain around his middle going taught.

"Answer me." He said, eye glowing red.

"Y-yes." Ford whispered.

"Yes, what?" Bill prompted, knowing that after all these years, Stanford must have at least some manners.

"Yes, m-my muse." Ford said, eyes glossing over as he imagines what Bill is to do to him. Bill chuckled and let's go of Ford's chin before snapping his fingers.

Away from the public eye, Ford and Bill were transferred to a dimly lit room. Still bound in his chains, Ford was now naked apart from his boxers and glasses. Bill stood in front of him menacingly.

"After all this time, you're still a pathetic man, Stanford. At least you know your place before a God though." Bill chuckled. He steps in front of Ford, nose to nose, to where he could feel Ford's breath on his. "I think I'll keep these on," He tugged on the chain around Ford's wrist, causing him to choke on a breath. "In case you try anything funny."

Bill finally leaned in and did what Ford had been hoping he would, kissing him deeply. It doesn't take long before the two are interlocking tongues, Bill dominating over the two of them and controlling the kiss. As the kiss grows heavier, hot breath fogging up Fords glasses, Bill felt Ford thrust slightly, looking for stimulation on his aching hard on. Bill chuckled darkly.

"Over 30 years and you still have the sex drive of a teenager, I'm impressed. Let's put that to work, why don't we?" Bill reached down and palmed over Ford's erection. Ford keened at the feeling, not having been touched like this in a long time. He thrusted up, attempting to give himself more delicious friction.

"More." He muttered, grinding against Bill's hand like it's the last thing he'll ever do.

"Not so fast, Sixer." Bill pulled his hand away, causing Ford to curse under his breath. "We haven't even gotten to the fun part!"

Bill made quick work of stripping Ford's boxers off and throwing them into the darkness. Bill admired his body with a smile on his face.

"There was a reason I picked you to do my work, Stanford, you're perfect in every way. Even after everything, you're still perfect." Bill reached forward and ran his hands over Ford's chest. He curled his fingers and lightly scratched on the way down. Ford struggled to breathe through the pleasure. Bill laughed at his responses to even the most trivial on stimulation.

Bill quietly walked behind Ford, taking a moment to fully feel him up. His hands explored everywhere, his stomach, his thighs, his ass, his hair, everywhere except his red, leaking cock.

"Please." Ford whined.

"What was that?" Bill breathed right into his ear.

"Please, do something." Ford breathlessly begged, his cock aching from how bad he needed some sort of pleasure.

Bill reached around and stuck two fingers in Ford's mouth. He felt his teeth, his gums, his tongue, slicking up his fingers with saliva.

"Put that mouth to good work and get those wet for me, ok, Smart Guy?" Bill whispered before dipping down and beginning to suck on the junction between Ford's shoulder and neck. He felt Ford moan around his digits at the sensation.

Once Bill deemed the hickey he'd left behind to be big enough, he lifted his head back to Ford's ear.

"Here's what's going to happen." He smirked even though Ford couldn't see it. "I'm going to stretch you open real good, I'm going to fuck you so hard you'll be wishing you'd prayed to me while stuck in that damn portal, and then I'm going to leave you here, a pathetic mess of desperation. Got it?"

Without a moment to spare, he removed his fingers from Ford's mouth and inserted them in his hole. The sudden stretch made Ford shout in pain. After a bit of motion, in and out, he grew used to the feeling. He couldn't remember the last time he had been touched like this. The last time he had been stripped to a babbling sex driven man.

Bill pulled out his fingers and pulled the front of his trousers down, revealing his hard cock. He lined it up with Ford's entrance, kissing his neck slowly. As he pushed in, he bit down.

"Fuck!" Ford shouted at the sudden intrusion.

"Shit, your still so tight!" Bill gasped, removing his teeth from Ford's neck. He wasted no time pistoning his hips, quickly fucking in and out of Ford. Ford tried to do anything to increase his pleasure, but the chains around him prevented him from moving much at all. Bill noticed him struggling and chuckled.

"You look so fucking pathetic, struggling to get more pleasure from me." Bill muttered. Bill kept fucking him until-

"Shit! There! More!" Ford blurted as Bill struck his prostate.

"That's it, come on Fordsy, tell me what you want." Bill egged him on, fucking into his prostate over and over. Ford panted, moaning and whining, unable to get out anything of intelligence. "Come on Sixer, where's that brain of yours? Don't tell me I've fucked it out of you!"

"Fuck- mmh- don't stop- uhh-" Ford moaned, trying to talk but barely getting the words out. "Fuck- mm- so cl- ohh- cl- ah-"

"What's that? I can't understand your Specs, speak up!" Bill began to slow his hips, laughing as Ford struggled against his restraints to try and pick up the pace. "Come on, use your words!"

Ford struggled more, still moaning despite the slower stimulation. His breathing was heavy, and he felt his orgasm approaching, he just needed a little more to tip over the edge.

"I won't ask again." Bill began to pull out, very slowly.

"Keep going please! So close, harder, faster, please, my muse!" Ford shouted, causing to Bill to fuck into him hard and fast. Ford's head fell back, and he moaned loud and unashamed. Bill chuckled, feeling himself grow close as well.

"Come on Sixer, show me how much you've needed me!" Bill fucks into him mercilessly and bite on his neck one final time.

"God fuck!" Ford shouted as he came, shooting his load onto the ground in front of him. Bill kept pounding into him until he finally reached his climax, biting down harder to taste metal in his mouth as he came inside of Ford.

After a long moment of heavy breathing, Bill pulled out of Ford, buttoned up his slacks, and walked around to the front of him. Ford was a mess. Dripping with sweat, whole body flush pink, neck covered in hickeys and a dripping red bite mark. The chains were the only thing holding Ford up at this point as he was totally limp, panting for air.

"You are a real mess, Stanford." Bill chuckled. "I'm keeping to my word though. I have a dimension to destroy, and with you under commission, I'll have a lot easier of a time."

Bill fixed his hair and straightened his coat as he turned his back towards Ford.

"This has been fun, just like old times. A muse and his devoted servant." Bill have one last laugh before snapping his fingers and disappearing, leaving Ford in the dark.

Note: Hey guys, it's me, the author! I've never written smut before, I've written stories in my mind, but this is my first time writing and posting it. I am aware that it's pretty bad but give me some time to get used to writing my ideas and I'll make something good. I also don't super ship BillFord, so I definitely leaned into it being a toxic manipulative thing. Thanks for reading! 📕⚠️⛓️

[primus-why]

A Prime and a Warlord Sneak Onto a Spaceship...

Okay but imagine Optimus and Megatron wind up on a stealth mission-- you could put them in a truce, but I decided to stick to wartimes for this one-- only they weren't supposed to be the stealth options. As in, through some shenanigans, the usual mechs for the job are out of comission at that very moment, and the window of opportunity to gain what they initially came there for is closing... hence a hail mary attempt from the two leaders who usually act as the muscle. Say for example, they've snuck aboard a ship that will be jumping into hyperspace in less than an hour, so they need to find their respective mcguffins and FAST.

Optimus could literally turn a corner and run into Megatron like:

Optimus: Oof!

Megatron: Watch it-- Prime?

Optimus: Pardon m-- MEGATRON?!

Megatron: Shh! Announce it to the whole ship, why don't you!!!

Optimus: What are you doing here?!

Megatron: *scoffs* That's classified.

Optimus: Well it must be something important if you're just going to walk away without a fuss...

Megatron: Do you want me to kick your aft? Because I will! I'll-- *suddenly gets a com* ugh, just a klik...

Optimus: ... *starts inching away*

Megatron, to his com: Yeah... Mhm... I know that!... Well, I'm not just gonna-- hey!

Optimus: *takes off in a sprint down a different hallway*

Megatron: *catches up and tackles him* Primus, you're terrible at this.

Optimus: At what?!

Megatron: Sneaking around!!

Optimus: Oh, like you're doing any better!

Megatron: I was doing much better before you came along!

Optimus: *struggling to break free* Then let me go, bolts for brains!

Megatron: Don't be foolish! Your bumbling about will not only jeopardize your own objective but mine as well! I need to keep an optic on you...

Optimus: And I assume you'll also be taking me hostage once you've got what you came for?

Megatron: Ah, you know me too well, Prime...

I mostly set this all up because I want the usual stealth/spec ops teams to be watching from their consoles back on the Nemesis/Ark. Like yeah, sure, Jazz might have exaggerated Mirage's delay just a tiny bit, and obviously none of them expected Megatron to be there... but since the big bad Decepticon was playing nice for now what's the harm in watching the show for a bit longer? (Via all the security cameras they hacked into, naturally)

Meanwhile Soundwave is in the medbay-- recovering from an incident he suspects Skywarp is behind-- grinding his denta while watching Megatron bump into (and get distracted by) the damn Prime.

[hanayama-simp]

Can you make a scenario where most evil convicts (Spec, Dorian, Yanagi, Sikorsky, Doyle) discovered that their y/n is pregnant and that they are the father?. Hope you have a great day or night ❤️❤️❤️

hiiii, sorry for the delay, it was hard for me to write it, but here it is, I hope you like it and have a nice night/day 💗💗

Spec

When Spec receives the news that his partner is pregnant, for a moment, the world seems to stop. There is nothing that can break his silence; It's an unusual reaction for someone who normally expresses everything through violence. His face, usually dominated by a sadistic smile, shows an expression of surprise that is rarely seen on him.

Internally, Spec faces conflict. His life has always been simple: violence, power and chaos. Now, a sense of responsibility begins to emerge, something totally new for him. He remembers his own childhood, the difficulties he faced, and for a moment he wonders if he could be a good father. The idea disturbs him, but it also motivates him.

After some time of reflection, accept the reality of the situation. Spec decides that he will protect his partner and the baby at all costs. This new protective side that emerges in him is unexpected, but firm. However, his instinct to protect turns into an almost obsessive desire to keep his partner away from any danger. He even considers isolating her from the world, just to make sure they are safe.

Although he is still a violent being, Spec begins to control his aggression in the presence of his partner. He does not want the fear he generates in others to separate him from this new stage of his life. Furthermore, an unusual care begins to appear in his actions. He makes sure that his surroundings are in order, that his partner is comfortable and safe, something that would have seemed irrelevant to him before.

The news of the pregnancy makes you think about the future in a different way. Spec imagines his son being strong, powerful, perhaps training from an early age to face the world he himself knows so well. However, there is also a latent concern. Despite his toughness, he wonders what his son's life will be like in such a dangerous world and if he can protect him from everything.

For the first time in a long time, Spec allows himself to feel more human emotions. Reflect on what it means to be a father and what you must do to be worthy of that role. He knows that the life he has led until now is not compatible with being a good father, but he is determined to find a way to balance both aspects.

In the end, Spec makes a decision: he will do everything in his power to protect his family. He begins to prepare mentally and physically for the birth of his child, knowing that the path ahead will be difficult, but willing to face it with all the strength that characterizes him.

Dorian

Kaioh Dorian, known for his facade of serenity and unsettling laughter, finds himself in a state of utter perplexity upon receiving the news that his partner is pregnant. His usually mocking smile freezes on his face, and for a moment, his combat-trained mind is devoid of any logic. There is no plan for this, no strategy in his arsenal that prepared him for such an unexpected revelation.

As he retreats into the solitude of his mind, Dorian reflects on what this means. His life has been a constant game of deception, strength, and survival. Now, there is something in his life that is entirely new and vulnerable. He struggles between his instincts to protect and his destructive impulses, questioning whether he can truly balance these two aspects of his nature. Throughout his life, he has cultivated a disdain for human emotions, but this news begins to tear down those walls with a force even he cannot resist.

Dorian, in his meticulous and calculating manner, begins to consider how this new being could fit into his world. The idea of a child both fascinates and terrifies him. He imagines his child inheriting his strength and cunning, but also fears they might inherit his dark legacy. In his most private moments, Dorian allows himself to imagine a future where his child follows in his footsteps, but with a spark of hope instead of despair.

As time progresses, Dorian undergoes changes in his behavior. Though he remains a master of deception and manipulation, he starts to act with an unusual caution. His protective nature manifests in subtle ways; his attacks on enemies become more ferocious, not just to secure his own power but to eliminate any potential threats to his future family. At the same time, in the privacy of his home, he shows more attentiveness, almost care, towards his partner—a side of him few have ever seen.

The pregnancy of his partner brings moments of introspection that he has never experienced before. Dorian begins to reconsider his life philosophy, meditating on what it means to be a father and what he must do to ensure his child has a better life than he has lived. He faces the dilemma of how to protect his family without exposing them to the brutality that has defined him until now.

In the end, Kaioh Dorian makes a decision: he will not only be a warrior on the battlefield but also in life, fighting to secure a future for his child. Though he remains a formidable figure, a new motivation has awakened within him, giving him a purpose beyond survival and power. He is ready to face any challenge, prepared to protect his family with the same intensity he has dedicated to his life as a warrior.

Yanagi

Ryuukou Yanagi, the master of poison hand techniques, is accustomed to manipulating fear and danger with cold precision. However, when he learns that his partner is pregnant, he finds himself facing an entirely new kind of uncertainty. His usually composed and calculating demeanor falters as he grapples with the unexpected news.

Inwardly, Yanagi’s mind races. The world he knows is one of shadows, deceit, and lethal force. Bringing a child into such a world seems unimaginable. He wonders how he could possibly protect this new life from the dangers that have defined his existence. For someone who has always seen emotions as a weakness, this sudden surge of concern and protectiveness catches him off guard.

Yanagi begins to think about the implications of fatherhood in his unique situation. His first instinct is to shield his partner and unborn child from the world, possibly even isolating them to keep them safe. He knows the enemies he’s made and the darkness that follows him. But he also recognizes that his skills and knowledge could be used to protect, not just to harm.

As he reflects on his past, Yanagi recalls his own harsh upbringing and the training that made him who he is today. He contemplates whether he wants his child to follow a similar path or if he desires something different for them. This thought process brings a rare moment of vulnerability to Yanagi, as he considers the kind of father he could be—one who might guide with wisdom rather than with fear.

Over time, Yanagi’s behavior begins to subtly shift. His actions, though still deliberate and strategic, now carry an undercurrent of caution that wasn’t there before. He becomes more meticulous in his dealings, ensuring that his enemies are kept far from his personal life. Within the confines of his home, he takes on a more nurturing role, offering small gestures of care and reassurance to his partner, something that would have seemed alien to him before.

Yanagi’s meditations deepen as he considers the future. He ponders what it will mean to teach his child about the world, about strength, and about survival. He wonders if he can break away from the cycle of violence and secrecy that has dominated his life, creating a safer environment for his family.

In the end, Ryuukou Yanagi decides that he must adapt, using his skills not just for survival but for the protection and well-being of his family. The news of his partner’s pregnancy has planted a seed of change within him, one that compels him to re-evaluate his purpose. Though he remains a shadowy and dangerous figure, Yanagi is now also driven by the desire to protect his family, ready to face whatever challenges may come with the same precision and resolve that have always defined him.

Sikorsky

Sikorsky, the towering Russian convict known for his brutal strength and ruthlessness, is a man who thrives on chaos and violence. When he learns that his partner is pregnant, the news hits him like a punch he didn’t see coming. For a moment, the ever-present intensity in his eyes dims as he processes the information.

At first, Sikorsky’s mind struggles to reconcile this new reality with the life he leads. His world has always been one of primal instincts, where power and survival are paramount. The idea of bringing a child into such a life feels completely foreign to him. His first reaction is one of confusion, followed by a rare sense of vulnerability that he’s unaccustomed to feeling.

As the days pass, Sikorsky begins to think about the implications of this news. He’s never seen himself as anything other than a predator, a man whose hands are stained with the blood of countless enemies. Now, he finds himself contemplating a future where he’s responsible for a life that is utterly dependent on him. The thought is both terrifying and strangely exhilarating.

Sikorsky’s thoughts turn to his own past, the harshness of his upbringing and the relentless struggle for power that shaped him into the man he is today. He wonders if he wants the same for his child, or if there’s a part of him that desires something better for them—a life that isn’t defined by violence and fear.

His behavior starts to change, though subtly. Sikorsky, who has always operated on raw aggression, begins to exhibit a cautiousness that’s new to him. He becomes more strategic in his actions, avoiding unnecessary risks and keeping his enemies at a distance. At home, there’s a softness in his interactions with his partner, an unspoken understanding that something precious is at stake.

As Sikorsky reflects on the future, he faces an internal conflict. Can he truly protect his family while continuing to live the life of a fighter? He begins to see fatherhood as another challenge to conquer, but one that requires a different kind of strength—one that he’s still learning to harness.

In the end, Sikorsky decides that he will do whatever it takes to protect his family. The thought of becoming a father has ignited a new purpose within him, one that he never expected to find. Though he remains a fierce and formidable presence, there is now a layer of determination that drives him to ensure the safety and well-being of his partner and child. Sikorsky is ready to face whatever comes, not just as a warrior, but as a father.

Doyle

Hector Doyle, the cold-blooded assassin known for his lethal precision and unshakable calm, finds himself confronted with something entirely outside his realm of experience when he learns that his partner is pregnant. For a moment, the calculating mind that has guided him through countless deadly encounters falters. He’s a man used to controlling every situation, but this news is something he could never have anticipated.

Doyle’s initial reaction is one of disbelief, followed by a deep introspection. His life has always been about survival, efficiency, and eliminating threats without hesitation. The idea of becoming a father, of being responsible for a life that is innocent and fragile, is a concept he finds difficult to grasp. Emotions he thought he had long buried begin to surface—concern, fear, and an unfamiliar sense of protectiveness.

As he processes the reality of the situation, Doyle begins to think about the implications. He has always been a solitary figure, moving through life with the singular focus of a predator. Now, he must consider how his lifestyle could affect not just him but also his partner and their unborn child. The thought of bringing a child into his dangerous world troubles him, but it also sparks a determination within him.

Doyle’s thoughts drift to his own past, to the harsh and unforgiving path that led him to become the assassin he is today. He questions whether he wants his child to inherit the same brutal lessons or if he can carve out a different, safer life for them. This internal conflict marks a significant shift in Doyle, revealing a side of him that’s rarely seen—one that is capable of compassion and concern.

As the days pass, Doyle’s behavior begins to change. Though still methodical and precise in his work, he now approaches situations with a heightened awareness of the risks, making decisions that prioritize the safety of his family. His interactions with his partner take on a new tenderness, a quiet understanding that they are now bound by something greater than themselves.

In his moments of solitude, Doyle contemplates the future. He knows that his life as an assassin is incompatible with the stability a family needs, yet he also knows that his skills could be turned towards protection. The thought of guiding his child, of teaching them how to navigate the world, brings a sense of purpose he never expected to find.

In the end, Hector Doyle resolves to protect his family at all costs. The news of the pregnancy has awakened something within him—a drive to be more than just a killer, to be someone who can provide and care for his loved ones. Though he remains a formidable and deadly figure, there is now a layer of humanity that pushes him to ensure a safe and secure future for his partner and child. Doyle is prepared to face whatever challenges come his way, not just with the precision of an assassin, but with the heart of a father.

[lesbian-polls]

Wait sorry, what’s wrong with m-spec lesbians? I thought that was what lots of butches were? 😭 sorry I’m from a conservative area + wasn’t allowed internet until I left home so I haven’t had much interaction with the queer community

Since you ask in good faith I'll give you a good faith answer.

M-spec doesn't mean "masculine presenting" it means your attraction is in the masculine spectrum of the gender spectrum, so men and male aligned-NB people (non-binary is not a third gender, it's a collection of every gender that I'd neither 100% woman or 100% man)

Butches tend to present masculine, this doesn't make them men.

A lesbian is a woman or woman-aligned NB person who is attracted to the same gender. That is, other women and woman aligned NB people.

The problem with m-spec and bi "lesbians" is that they're not lesbians at all, they're bi or pan people most of the time who are attracted to men but try to usurp the lesbian label and turn it into a synonym for sapphic or woman-loving-woman.

Lesbianism is the only sexuality that excludes men, both as targets of attraction and emitters of that attraction. Therefore we are being shamed into being attracted to men by this group of people. Hell, they even try to take the reclaimed d-slur.

It's an act of lesbophobia, homophobia (two different kinds of oppression btw) biphobia (bi and pan people have a history of fighting for their own label and protested against being called gays or lesbians) and transphobia since many of m-spec 'lesbians' and their supporters are trans men who claim they have a connection to womanhood by having the "right parts" which isn't true in the slightest and also hurts trans women, many of whom are lesbians as well.

Even misogyny, since m-spec and bi 'lesbians' can't stand the fact that we don't need men in our lives and that bothers them since in their mind everyone needs to center men in their lives.

Would you see gay men being told to include women in their sexuality? No, right? It's the misogyny as well.

Most bi 'lesbians' and their supporters also happen to be white, shielding themselves with their privilege.

To sum it up: m-spec 'lesbians' aren't butches or lesbians at all, they're bi and pan people who disregard their own history and struggle to try and steal our label from us, inspired by homophobia, biphobia, lesbophobia, misogyny and transphobia. They'll call us TERFs (many of us are trans women mind you) while employing TERF points themselves like with the trans man argument.

If you have more questions feel free to DM me. And, if you are not a lesbian please don't vote in the polls since they're for lesbians only. I made this blog as a safe space for lesbians due to our safe spaces on this accursed website being eroded (if you say you're a bi lesbian in a lesbian bar they'll laugh at you since this is online-only problem) and I'd like to keep it that way

EDIT:

This user is right, I got the two mixed up. M-spec is multi-spectrum

[little-emerald-snake]

Smutmas Day 14

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” - Ominis Gaunt X F!MC

🔥NSFW 🔞 MDNI

876 works

Warnings: oral m receiving, sneaky sex, swallowing

Ominis and his beautiful girlfriend were hidden behind the thick plush curtains of his bed. Her lips were wrapped pleasantly around his cock as her head bobbed diligently over his lap.

He grunted softly, willing his hips not to lift from the bed in pleasure. His fingers were woven between the strands of her hair and it was an active struggle not to push her lips all the way to his base and hold her there.

They both paused when the door to the room opened and shut, Sebastian’s booted foot steps moved across the room. “Ominis, are you awake?”

Ominis bit his lip as the plush swollen lips wrapped around him resumed their slow rhythm around his cock. He gripped her strands tightly which only spurred her on. “Y-yes. I’m awake. But erm…not decent. What do you need?”

Sebastian chuckled from the space behind the curtain and makes do with sitting on his own bed. “Was coming to see if you wanted to come to Hogsmeade with me later on this week. You can even invite your girlfriend if you like. But I need some things and would rather have some company.”

Ominis’ head was tipped back. Her swollen lips were now wrapped tightly around his base taking him all the way into her throat. He was open mouthed, trying not to blow down her throat while also trying to hold back the pleasured sounds that threatened to spill from his lips.

She showed him a spec of mercy by lifting her head up and switching to licking her spit from his shaft. Ominis let out a sigh of relief and cleared his throat. “Yes. That sounds quite lovely. I-I’m sure she will want to stop for a butterbeer. So long as we take that into account…”

He could feel her eyes on him as her lips wrapped around him, taking him to the base again. He gripped her hair, harshly pulling her off, knowing he couldn’t hold back if she deep throated him again. “Of course we can stop down at the Three Broomsticks! You know I’ll never say no to that! Thanks Om, I’ll leave you to your nap!”

After hearing his roommates footsteps retreat to the door and the opening and shutting of the door Ominis practically growled. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

He forced her down on his cock, tip hitting the back of her throat and making her gag slightly. The tightness of her throat made his milky eyes roll with lust. “Y-you’re gonna make me cum down this perfectly tight little throat.”

She looked up to him with watery eyes, trying not to choke as his hips lifted from the bed, holding her by the back of her neck while he throbbed in her tight throat. She could feel the urgency in his movements as his hips flexed and the veins in his throat popped out.

He gasped then let out a guttural cry, thrusting into the back of her throat. She felt his thick, warm cum shooting and sliding down her throat. She swallowed harshly around him, till his slightly shaking hand released her hair and landed on his blanket below them.

He sighed with relief, while she lifted her head, licking him clean and sitting up to pull her hair out of the way. He couldn’t help but pull her up close to him, laying front to front, naked in his bed.

[midnight-fox-boy]

I made a post about labels being as useful/important as you make them and I want to branch off of that to specifically talk about the m-spec umbrella.

A lot of discourse exists over this but aside from that, I know a lot of people have struggled with not knowing exactly where they sit on that spectrum, when they have imposter syndrome with the label(s) they have chosen, dealing with being invalidated, etc. so heres some validation:

You're not inherently transphobic/enbyphobic for identifying as bisexual. Maybe it's just the term that's felt comfortable for so long and that's chill. Maybe you like it because it's a bit more vague than some other labels, maybe you use one of the lesser "known" definitions of bi even if it's a long standing one (i.e. attraction to the same gender as yourself and other genders), or maybe it's just the label you vibe with and the specific reason doesn't really matter!

Pansexuality doesn't mean you can't occasionally crave interactions (romantic/sexual/sensual) with people of specific genders! If your version of pansexuality is attraction regardless of gender, that doesn't mean that occasional drifts from your norm/usual magically means you have to change your label.

Omnisexuality isn't the exact same as pansexual and I know a lot of y'all are tired of hearing that it is. Overlap certainly exists and many people could identify as one or the other, but that's true for so many labels on different spectrums.

To my polysexuals, I too am frustrated with the constant correlation to polyamory (people think they're the same thing). I don't even identify as polysexual and I feel that pain.

You're still homo/heteroflexible even if you're dating one of your exceptions/rare cases of attraction to someone of that gender. You don't have to drop this label if it makes you happy and brings you comfort. Your sexuality is not invalidated by the person(s) you are dating.

M-spec gays/lesbians are so valid and boiling sexuality down to 100% strict AF labels is harmful. There's so many reasons one may identify as such, and regardless of your reasons, it's not any stranger's business.

Abrosexuals (who consider themselves/their label mspec) aren't confused. You're not doing anything wrong by acknowledging your sexuality is fluid and embracing that.

The multisexual umbrella is such a diverse and expensive spectrum that trying to reduce people down to one strict definition of being attracted to multiple genders is silly. Sexuality as a whole is a very complicated thing and can be experienced in so many ways. Sometimes something is just too vague for you personally, or even too specific, and that's chill. Whatever label or lackthereof makes you happy is the right choice.