#the dragging motion works wonderfully

[girlgenius1111]

just let go: chapter 5

the final chapter. 18+ smut. not proofread. no summary. just pure sexual vibes.

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Misa had begged. She’d whined, and moaned, and come, multiple times. Yet Jenni still felt fairly sure that the keeper had more to give, like perhaps there was still just a bit more for Misa to let go of. The striker was absolutely positive that she’d get it out of the keeper, whatever she had left to give. Jenni had an idea of what that would be, she just wasn’t entirely sure it was possible. 

She got right to work anyway, using the keeper’s sensitivity to her advantage. Jenni had Misa on her back within seconds, pulling her away from you, and pushing Alexia in your direction. Post sex Alexia was very compliant with whatever Jenni wanted from her, and she rolled over to you easily, gathering you up in her arms and holding you close. You were both on your sides, with the other two women in perfect view. Almost as soon as Alexia got her hands on you, her voice was in your ear. 

“Do you know how beautiful you are, amor? You put on such a good show for us. So perfect, so pretty. Just for us, hmm?” 

“Just for you.” You replied shakily, snuggling back into her larger body as you did so. You both knew Alexia wasn’t trying to get you going again. She knew how hard you were on yourself, and she and Jenni made a point to tell you how very perfect you were for them every time you guys were together. Afterwards, when you’d lay, completely drained, in between them, they’d take turns making you forget every bad thing you’d ever thought about yourself, filling your head with kind words and quiet expressions of their-... affection.

You were happy there, in Alexia’s muscular arms. Safe and comfortable, and very entertained by the sight in front of you. 

Jenni was on a mission, and it was clear to anyone watching. She had spread Misa wide, thrown both the keeper’s tan legs over her shoulders, and gotten to work. She was aware, however, that Misa would be sensitive, and if she was going to get what she wanted, she’d have to go slow. 

Slow and sensual and teasing, dragging her tongue through Misa’s core. The younger girl was dripping, the area in between her legs an absolute mess. Jenni was leaving her fingers out of it for now, laying them across Misa’s abdomen, moving her thumbs in a soothing motion across the soft skin. 

Misa looked like she was on another planet. Jenni’s motions against her were just enough to pull every thought from her head, leaving her wonderfully empty. All she was aware of was that Jenni felt so good, and she never wanted the older woman to stop. 

You weren’t sure you’d ever gotten Misa to this point before. Completely speechless, quiet sighs and whines falling from her lips every few seconds. You thought Misa looked as good as she could possibly look when she fucked you, when she was dominant and controlling. Now, though, looking at her underneath Jenni, you knew you’d been wrong. 

She looked astonishingly good like this. Beautiful in every sense of the word. Her face was flushed red, her hair a mess against the duvet, her neck covered in hickeys. She was relaxed, though, completely relaxed. She looked softer like this, kinder. She wasn’t Misa Rodriquez, moody goalkeeper. 

She was Misa, and you wondered how you ever forgot how beautiful she was. How perfect. 

You shivered slightly at the sight, trying to swallow the ridiculous emotions that were swirling around inside of you. Alexia misunderstood, adorably pulling your body closer against her. 

“Are you cold?” She whispered, though her eyes remained trained on her girlfriend’s head between Misa’s legs. 

Instead of explaining what was going through your head, you nodded slightly. You were a bit cold, if you thought about it. Alexia leaned away from you, and you’d never admit to the whine that left your lips at the loss of contact. You heard the bottom drawer of the nightstand open and then closed, before Alexia was pressed up against your back again, and you were being snuggly wrapped in a fuzzy blanket. 

“Better?” She asked, pressing a light kiss to your cheek. 

You fought back a smile. “Sí. But be careful how close you get the blanket to Misa. It seems like Jenni is really going for something here.” 

Alexia chuckled into your neck, her breath tickling your skin until you shivered again. “Oh, she definitely is.” 

Misa wasn’t quite aware of what Jenni’s goal was, though. The forward had been focused on Misa’s clit for a while, barely applying any pressure with her tongue, instead softly licking over it, leaving light kisses across Misa’s skin. She hummed as she did so, enjoying herself, and Misa had long settled into Jenni’s movements, getting her body to relax into the gentle stimulation. It was only when Jenni shifted, untucking one of her arms from where it was looped under Misa’s leg, to very teasingly press at her entrance, that she began to  understand what Jenni was intending.

“Fuck,” Misa groaned, the escalation being overwhelming, but not unwelcome. Jenni groaned as she felt the keeper get somehow wetter, her singular finger threatening to slip inside before she wanted it to. 

When Jenni did slip a finger inside, it was to the excitement of the keeper. For only a moment, though because Jenni didn’t fuck her with it. She kept it deep inside of Misa’s pussy, shifting it around every so often. Searching for something. 

“Jenni, I can’t,” Misa mumbled, now well aware what the forward was going for, though she kept her fingers threaded through Jenni’s jet black hair. 

“Yes you can,” Jenni told her, though Misa felt the words more than she heard them. “Relax, let it happen.” 

Misa squirmed slightly under her, and you realized very quickly that the woman was getting too into her own head. The only way this was happening was if she relaxed, and the only way she’d relax was if she was distracted. So, you took one for the team. 

It was a big sacrifice, uncovering yourself from the soft blanket, and pulling away from the furnace that was Alexia. She grumbled as you did so, but released you from her arms with no argument. You slid across the bed, propping yourself up on your elbow, your face just next to Misa’s. Her eyes were shut, and though there was no doubt she’d felt you come closer, she kept them shut. When she felt your nimble fingers on her cheek, though, directing her to tilt her head towards you, she forced her eyes open, finding you much closer than she’d expected. 

You were looking at her so softly, she almost wasn’t sure she could handle the weight of your gaze. It was too kind, too loving. When you leaned in, though, pressing your lips to hers in the softest kiss either of you had ever shared, she forgot she was supposed to be tough for you. 

Every muscle in her body relaxed, and Jenni smiled triumphantly against her, slipping in another finger to join the first. Misa didn’t even seem to notice. Her hands had relaxed their tight grip on Jenni’s hair; she was limp on the bed, eagerly kissing you back. 

Your lips were comforting against hers, soft and gentle, with just a touch of insistence when you let your tongue slide from between them, and press up against her lips. She allowed you in easily, your tongue nudging against hers. Her calloused hand moved to cup your cheek, drawing you in closer. She was lost in the feeling of you, and the feeling of Jenni.

The forward knew what she was doing. She had two fingers buried deep inside of the keeper, though she didn’t move them in and out. Instead, she curled them just slightly, going for more of a rocking motion. As soon as she did so, hitting the spot Misa rarely ever stimulated, Jenni was rewarded with a deep groan. She felt Misa clench around her, felt the keeper grow wetter and wetter, and she knew she’d be successful. 

She doubled down on Misa’s clit, attaching her lips to the nub and flicking her tongue over it, fast enough for Misa’s thighs to tremble against her head. Misa was getting louder now, barely able to keep up with your kisses, so you pulled your lips away, stroking at her cheek with your thumb. 

She opened her eyes to look at you, and they were so clouded with desire, you fought the urge to kiss her again, harder. Her hips had begun a circular motion against Jenni, and you knew she was getting close. 

“Feels different,” she murmured, gently pressing her forehead to yours. 

“I know,” you replied. “Let it happen, baby. Let her make you feel good.” 

Misa nodded, letting her head fall back onto the mattress. She kept her hand on you, threading her fingers through your hair this time, and focused all of her will on keeping her lower body relaxed. 

You brought your lips to her neck, kissing and nipping at the already sensitive marks there. Misa tightened her grip in your hair. 

“Jenni,” she cried, louder than she’d been talking before. 

Jenni hummed, not pausing her motions, but her eyes fixed attentively on the keeper. 

“Close,” Misa warned, reaching down blindly to lace her fingers with Jenni’s free hand. 

Jenni hummed again, speeding up the curling push and pull of her fingers. 

Misa felt it before it happened, coming from somewhere directly in her. 

“Jenni, Jenni, Jenni,” she chanted, the only thought in her head being the forward bringing her more pleasure than she’d ever felt in her life. 

Jenni pulled her face away, wanting to see it happen. Liquid was streaming out of Misa’s cunt, a waterfall almost. With every thrust of her fingers, more flooded out, until Misa’s back was arching off the bed, and she grew louder than she’d been all night. Her words were unintelligible moans, and all Jenni wanted to do, in that moment, was to keep pulling those sounds from the stoic woman. 

Eventually, though, it grew to be too much. Too much of Jenni’s fingers inside of her, pulling splash after slash out of her pussy, too much of your lips on her sensitive neck. 

Misa squirmed away from both of you. “No more, no more,” she cried, feeling both of you pull away instantly. That wouldn’t do, though. The stimulation was too much, but the minute she felt you stop touching her, she felt entirely uncomfortable and untethered to the earth. 

“Amor, venga,” she whined, and that was all it took before you were burying your face back into her neck, leaving the marks alone this time, pressing yourself up against her. Her legs trembled as you intertwined yours with them, small whimpers leaving her mouth even now, even as Jenni withdrew from between her legs, practically falling over herself to get back to her rather neglected girlfriend. 

“Nice of you to remember me.” Alexia stated, laughing to herself at the sheepish grins coming from her girlfriend. She wasn’t mad, not really. It had been quite the show. Jenni pulled the midfielder into her arms, pressing kiss after kiss to the top of her head. 

“Sorry, mi amor. I got distracted.” 

“Her pussy is distracting.” Alexia commented. “I’d like to be distracted more often.” 

“Me too,” Jenni agreed. “Do you think they will want to?” 

She nodded at you both, where you were cradling Misa’s face in your hands, shushing her quiet whimpers. You were as close to Misa as you could possibly get, and the keeper was trying to claw you even closer. Jenni thought to herself that she’d be surprised if either of you ever let the other go. 

“Oh they’ll want to.” Alexia replied. “If they don’t get together themselves, we’ll fuck them until they admit their feelings.” 

Jenni laughed, always one to admire Alexia’s determination. Of course the blonde’s idea would be to fuck a confession out of the two of you. 

As Jenni gazed at the two of you, though, curled against each other, she couldn’t help but agree. You fit together, like she fit with Alexia. You both looked so comfortable and so relaxed, so happy. 

You and Misa were having similar thoughts, though Misa’s were much more clouded. She never wanted to let go of you, and you didn’t want to let go of her either. It was intense and surprising, the strength of both of your feelings, but there was no questioning them. 

You settled against Misa’s chest, hearing her strong heartbeat in your ear, and you knew that of all the stress the day had brought, there was always going to be one thing you didn’t want to let go of. Her. 

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sappy chapter, sappy ending. shorter than i would have wanted but i could not let this hang over me anymore, and i felt like this was an okay way to wrap it up.

i hope everyone enjoyed 🙂🙂

[mattsfavbigtitties]

My Little Kitty/ Matt S.

MASTERLIST TAGLIST

Warnings: Pet play, roleplay, master/servant dynamics, oral!male receiving, vaginal fingering,

Summery: Sometimes you like to be just a pretty kitty for your master.

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

"C'mere, my pretty kitty." Matt gestured the motion with one of his hands as he sat at the edge of his bed. You knelt before him, showing off your kitty ears on your head as you crawled towards him.

You looked up at your master, large doe eyes accentuating your wonderfully long lashes as you had your hands folded neatly on your lap before him. "Undress, kitty." He commanded yet soft.

You gazed up as your hands moved accordingly to his say, stepping out of your pajama pants and tearing off your shirt. You had no bra on, which was a regular occurrence for you. Matt stopped you in your tracks when you went to pull your panties off.

"Mm." You hummed a soft moan with your mouth continuing to be closed as your master traces his fingertips across your skin surrounding the edge of your panties, sending goosebumps down your legs. He grabbed the fabric, slowly dragging it down your thighs and dropping them to the floor.

"Prettiest kitty..with the most prettiest pussy I've ever seen." Matt bit his lower lip, staring directly at your core with no judgment; just pure adoration.

He admired you, licking his lips in anticipation as he grew hard seeing you standing there, naked and oh so beautiful in his eyes. His hands came up dragging along your thighs creating more shivers from your body. His fingers moved to your cunt, smoothing along the inside of your lips, feeling the drenched wetness already.

One hand on your hip as he stabilized you and the other starting to work you up, circling your clit. You gasped at the feeling of his long finger sliding deeper between your folds and gliding into your clenching hole.

Your hands grasped his hair and threw your head back at the pleasure between your legs. Another finger, then one more.

Matt redirects your focus to him as takes his fingers from your core and stares in your lust driven eyes as he licks off most of your juices. "Get my dick out, little kitty cat." He pets your ears and hair, leading you to kneel once more in front him.

You follow his direction and bite your lip while tugging his own pajama pants down and yanking out his length from beneath his boxers. It stood up, hard as a rock looking you in the eyes as it dripped with precum.

You wiggled in place ready to please your master and make him cum desperately.

"Lick it, baby." Matt requested as he took one of your hands in his, entwining fingers. You moved forward, licking the tip, tasting the saltiness of the precum in your mouth as you kept your tongue going. Your kitty licking the tip soon turned into taking him half-whole in your small mouth.

"Oh...fuck..my prettiest kitty." He groaned in pleasure as he watched and felt your throat enclose around his girth as he was long enough to reach the back of your mouth and more. The gagging sound bounced off the walls as Matt's eyes rolled up into his head. The feeling of your saliva sliding down his dick and gathering on his pants.

"Such a hungry little kitty you are. Master's so happy you're his kitty cat." He moaned out as you sucked and licked him.

Your head bobbed up and down his shaft as he tangled his hand in your fluffy cat ears and soft hair. "A good kitty you are. On your knees for your master like you always should be."

Your pupils dilated with only thoughts of pleasing your master. You loved to make hims happy and feel good. You also loved when all his attention was on you.

"Oh..kitty. Master's going-to cum. You want master's milk, little kitty? Yeah i bet you do. So desperate to please master-fuck!" Matt rambled on leading up to his orgasm. Busting in your mouth as you sucked up all his seed.

You nuzzled into his hand as you purred and meowed in a loving way.

Matt chuckled in breathes as he began to catch his breathe from the previous work.

"My little kitty...so cute. I love you too."

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

Taglist: @riowritesitall @conspiracy-ash @huhmiya @matt-2002fan @ericshoney @riasturns

[the12thnightproject]

Chapter 26 - Time Warped (Again). While Okatsu deals with the emotional fallout of recent events, Mozumi hosts a badly timed banquet, and Mitsunari consults another book.

Mitsunari x OC; Nobunaga x Mai

Previous Chapter

Logline - In order to protect a political alliance, Katusko and Mitsunari must pretend an engagement. But this “all business” arrangement is threatened by a coup against Nobunaga… and by feelings.

From the Military Notes of Ishida Mitsunari…

It is over. We succeeded in preventing Iekane’s forces from killing Nobunaga. Mitsuhide patted my shoulder and told me I had performed beyond his expectations. I’ve received word that Nobunaga plans to reward me for my service.

I should feel happy… We have won… and Okatsu kissed me. Perhaps as one might kiss a brother, however, her lips touched mine, which is the definition of a kiss.

But Okatsu still plans to leave.

No, that is a mischaracterization of the situation – Okatsu never planned to stay. This is something I knew. This is something I wanted. I no longer want this, but she will be with her family, she will return to a future that is peaceful and safer than here. I will be happy for her.

But…

��wait…

… Where is every--?

When Aki aimed his gun at the minion, I shut my eyes, waiting for images of my past to flash before me, as is foretold in popular fiction.

That didn’t happen.

Either I wasn’t going to die… or popular fiction was wrong. I had a bad feeling it was going to be the latter unless I took steps to avoid that fate. I opened my eyes again, knowing that as soon as Aki killed the minion, I would have to use that moment of distraction to act –

THWUMP!

With more power than grace, Mitsunari hauled himself over the edge of the tower and knocked the minion off his feet.  As a distraction, it worked wonderfully. I grabbed the war fan out of my kimono, jammed it into Iekane’s stomach, then flipped him over my body.

He landed right where Aki was waiting for him.

While Mitsunari was easily dispatching the minion, I grabbed Hikosane and yanked him out of the path of any stray bullet, sword, or –

THUNK.

Unconscious minions.

The second the minion hit the floor, Mitsunari had Hikosane and I in his arms, as far away from the Iekane and Aki’s fight as possible. At the moment, there wasn’t much else we could do except let Aki have his chance at Iekane. The two of them were evenly matched. Aki discarded the musket for his sword, and they battled across the perimeter of the tower, grimly trading hits, swords clanging against each other. Then Iekane backed up a step and pulled out a small rectangular object … was that a cell phone?

“No, you can’t it’s too-” Aki’s words were lost as he leaped at Iekane -

For a moment, out of the corner of my eye, I saw an odd aura – almost like the ones I used to get before a migraine headache. It felt like reality was rippling around me, almost as if the horizon was a curtain that was about to lift. I’ve… seen this before…

Then Aki’s forward motion took both of them over the railing of the tower.

Holy fu-

Mitsunari, Hikosane, and I rushed to the railing, and I was hoping against fate that I would find Aki clinging to the edge of the tower, and not in a broken heap on the ground below. Of course, he’d be clinging to the edge. This was Aki. Slippery. Wily. Acrobatic…

He was not clinging to the tower.

Nor was he – or Iekane – in a heap on the ground below.

In absence of their fight, the birdsong seemed unnaturally loud. None of us said anything to break the quiet. The three of us just stared over the edge, looking at… nothing.

We weren’t that far off the ground… a fall from the tower platform would have been survivable, although neither Aki nor Iekane would have had time to drag themselves into the woods, nor was there any evidence of two adult sized bodies having thudded to the ground.

It was as if they had never been there at all.

Finally, I pulled myself out of the shock, and rushed down the ladder and through the tower to the outside, barely aware that Mitsunari and Hikosane were right behind me.

Aki?

Dad?

Even in my head ‘dad’ didn’t sound right. Aki was… just…  Aki.

And he was gone.

Vanished somewhere between the tower platform and the soft, springy ground – a ground that clearly had not been crushed by two men thudding onto it.

“Where did they go?” Hikosane looked through the brush around the tower.

“Um, ninja tricks,” was all that I could come up with on the fly. I might have been able to formulate a better lie, but my attention was caught by something on the ground. A few stray leaves. Normally, exactly what you’d expect to find on the ground in the middle of a forest.

But they were late Autumn leaves. Maple leaves. Brown and gold where all the trees around us had yet to change color. Nor were any of them maple. I picked one up to examine it. Aside from being out of season, it was just a leaf.

“There may have been men waiting down here to help Iekane escape.” Mitsunari’s explanation to Hikosane sounded more plausible than mine. He glanced at the leaf I had in my hand and nodded.

Aki and Iekane had somehow, without a wormhole, gone elsewhere in time.

“We’re going to go after them, right?” Hikosane tugged on my arm. “Iekane and your father.”

Mitsunari sent a startled look my way – I guess he had missed that part of our drama. “Yes, of course I want to go after them, but now isn’t the time. I’ll need supplies and more arrows,” and a time machine. “Besides, right now we need to get you back to Genba, where I am sure your own father will be watching for you.”

We walked quietly back toward the castle, still alert to any remaining stragglers from Iekane’s crew that would be lurking, ready to jump scare our party. But Masamune and Ieyasu had been quite thorough in the mop-up detail. Masamune’s reputation alone might have been enough to send many those mercenaries running.

I felt a light touch on my shoulder and looked over to see Mitsunari looking at me steadily. “How are you?”

“A few bruises, that’s all.” Hopefully not another black eye. “Nothing that needs medical attention.”

“That was not what I was asking.” He glanced back over his shoulder, to where the tower was still visible in the distance.

Yes. I had been aware that he was really asking, ‘are you ok after watching your father apparently die?’ I had no answer to that. I wasn’t used to delving through my psyche. My mother’s emotions had strangled Toshiie and I for years – I’d never seen any reason to inflict mine on anyone else. Mitsunari was asking me to access the sort of things that were usually packed neatly away. I was afraid if I unpacked them, I would discover feelings that I couldn’t shove back into the suitcase.

But…

Aki’s disappearance… no, I wouldn’t think of him as dead. The man had always seemed indestructible. He wasn’t though. Aki was human. He aged. He could die.

He could die.

He might already be dead.

I couldn’t cry now.

Not here.

Mitsunari took my hands, and gently pulled me into an embrace. Then, with my face pressed against his chest, I cried, while Mitsunari simply held on, his fingers soft across my back.

We returned to the last thing I was in the mood for… another banquet. If Mozumi was humiliated that his wife had not only been cheating on him, but had been treasonously plotting to kill Nobunaga, he chose to pretend otherwise. Or maybe this was banquet was more along the lines of a plea to Nobunaga, the old, ‘hey, I’m sorry a member of the household tried to kill you, but look on the bright side, you didn’t die, so let’s party’ distraction technique.

The mood, at least, was far more subdued than the engagement banquet, and the ‘let’s entertain Nobunaga’ banquets. Most of Mozumi’s vassals were still on the coast, and the ones who had stayed behind, like Susumu, had lost friends and comrades in the struggle. While they were grateful enough to be fed, they (naturally) weren’t in a celebratory mood. Mozumi himself was seated only with Nobunaga and Hideyoshi, all three with their heads together in an intense discussion.

Mozumi didn’t look like he was pleading for his life, but his attitude was far more deferential than it had been a couple weeks ago. I wondered if they were trying to decide Lady Yone’s fate. Normally, she would have been sentenced to death for her treasonous acts, in fact, I was surprised that she had not already been executed. But Mai had pleaded for leniency, for the sake of her daughters, all of whom were under the age of ten. Last I heard, her punishment had yet to be determined.

On the other hand, the happiest person at the banquet was Shohime, who was in her element, alternately – or, well actually simultaneously – flirting with Keiji and Masamune. Both seemed happy enough to reciprocate. I wondered if they were getting her ‘beautiful, perfect, but dumb’ persona, or if now that Hikosane was safe from Lady Yone, Shohime was finally going to be able to allow her true self to emerge.

One person who had escaped the celebration was Mitsuhide, who had claimed that the sight of his injuries would put people off their food. Personally, I thought that unlikely – these men and women had seen far too much danger and battle to care. More likely, he didn’t feel social, or had decided to keep his presence on the down low.

Hikosane had also been able to escape the ‘banquet’ and was supposedly in his room – but I had a feeling he’d snuck out to the stables to hang out with Mitsuhide.

I would have like to have been able to get out of the feasting too – it would have been nice to be able to find a time and space in which to process the events of the few days. But since I was supposed to be an Oda Princess, I couldn’t suddenly claim to be mourning my father (long-dead in my fake backstory). Additionally, to avoid confusion, Hideyoshi had (reluctantly) decided to let the false engagement stand until we returned to Azuchi.

But… I wouldn’t be returning to Azuchi.

Travel in this century being what it was, I intended to part ways with the Oda and Mitsunari as soon as we left Genba. There wasn’t time for me to go all the way to Azuchi and then travel back up to the Togakushi shrine  – I would miss the wormhole if I did.

Until then I would pretend to be a happy, engaged Princess. As such, I looked over and smiled fondly at Mitsunari, who was happily catching up with Ieyasu (less than happy to be caught up with). Déjà vu, Mitsunari’s hand came close to knocking a bowl of soup into Ieyasu’s lap.

Ieyasu braced himself, that familiar scowl descending his face. Mitsunari slowed down, moved his bowl out of the way, and continued the conversation.

Startled, Ieyasu blinked. Then he frowned again – must be disappointed not to have anything to complain about. If I had been in a better mood myself, I would have laughed at him.

Yes, Mitsunari had changed. Well. A little. He was less clumsy. More confident. Oh, under that he was still the too literal absent minded, sweet genius that I …

…couldn’t possibly allow myself to think, to feel about in that way.

Suddenly, I could no longer stand to be in a room full of people and before I could think of any excuse, I jumped to my feet.

“Are you feeling alright, Okatsu?” Looking concerned, Mitsunari reached for my hand, but I was already backing away from the table.

“I’m fine. I thought I’d steal some dessert and take it up to Hikosane.” It was a stupid excuse – Hikosane probably had been fed the same meal we had. But I realized I did want to check in on the kid. “Oh, no stay put,” I added when Mitsunari moved to join me. “I know you haven’t seen Ieyasu in a while, and you want to spend time with your friend.”

Ieyasu sighed the sigh of a man facing a long evening.

Without allowing either of them to say another word, I hurried out of the banquet hall.

Eventually, I tracked Hikosane to the stables – just as I expected, he was pestering Mitsuhide and Kyubei to tell him about their adventures.

“Young man, you are one question away from becoming as annoying as – that one.” Mitsuhide indicated me with a nod of his head.

“Truly? I am honored by the comparison.” Hikosane gave a rather Mitsunari-esque response. Perhaps he had been spending too much time with both of us.

“That was in no way intended to be a compliment.” Mitsuhide stood up, signaling to us all that whatever patience he had was at its end.

“Huh, actually, I took it as a compliment too.” I held out my hand for Hikosane. “If I can annoy you, I must be doing something right.”

Kyubei hastily smothered a laugh, which earned him a look of doom from Mitsuhide.

“Anyway, I will be out of your … wig… soon enough. And you can sooth yourself with the knowledge that Hideyoshi hates me even more than you do.” Every time that man looked at me, his jaw twitched as if he were biting his tongue.

“There is that.” Mitsuhide then turned serious. “Neither I nor Hideyoshi hate you… far from it. You’re simply too volatile for my peace of mind. Doing the work that I, and by association, you, do, requires a certain cold calculation that at this point, you do not yet possess.” I opened my mouth to protest that (which… might have proven his point), but he continued, “And I would regret it if someday you were to acquire that skill.”

He turned back toward Kyubei, who, I belatedly noticed, was sitting in front of a partially completed shogi game – I suppose Hikosane had interrupted them. I wondered if Mitsuhide and Aki would ever get the chance to complete their long-running game. Hopefully, wherever Aki was, he was still alive and would be able to return to this time.

My expression must have been unusually unguarded, because Kyubei said, “Hikosane has told us what happened to Akihira. Do you think Iekane would take him prisoner?” Unspoken was the ‘or simply killed him elsewhere?’

“That’s certainly a possibility.” Or they could both be chasing after each other in a different timeline, but that wasn’t something I could bring up to this audience.

Reminded of his manners – or at least of macro-etiquette in this type of situation, Mitsuhide turned back to me. “I am truly sorry that you lost your mentor. I imagine you were close.”

“He’s her father!” Hikosane had not yet fully learned the lesson of keeping information private, but this likely wasn’t something that I would have been able to hide from Mitsuhide in the long run anyway. “Of course, they were close!”

That bombshell prompted mirror image raised single eyebrows from both Kyubei and Mitsuhide (yeesh, can everyone but me do that?). “Fascinating. That was information that had escaped me.”

I considered telling him that it had been a surprise to me as well, but it would do him no harm to believe that I had always known and had managed to keep it a secret from him. I also imagined I’d get some spy credit chips if he thought that I had grown up being trained by Aki. “Well. You can’t know everything.”

That, in my opinion, was a perfect exit line, so I gave Mitsuhide a version of his own mocking bow, and a more polite one to Kyubei, before leading Hikosane back to the castle.

Hikosane looked back over his shoulder toward the stables as we padded through the corridors of Genba. “I’m looking forward to knowing him better.”

“I don’t think anyone really knows him, aside from Kyubei.” The castle had quieted down for the night. Seemed like the banquet had ended earlier than usual, and people were heading off to bed.

“When Shohime and I are living at Azuchi, I will make it a point to learn as much as I can from and about him.” Hikosane’s voice held a solemn vow, but I was more interested in what he said, and not how.

“You’ll be living at Azuchi?” I slid open the door to his room, and automatically scanned it for samurais and snakes. The page waiting for Hikosane flinched under my stare and stepped backward, nearly tripping over the futon.

“It has not been formalized yet, but we went to Nobunaga and offered ourselves as hostages – no, it’s what I want – and Shohime too,” he added quickly before I could make a protest. “While you may not think it’s necessary, I wish to learn more about governing and I’ll learn more from Nobunaga than my own father.”

This was clearly true, and if his life was still in danger from Iekane, Azuchi was a safer place for him to be. “You’re right, you probably will.”

“I can learn from you too. I’ve never known a kuinochi princess before.” He bowed to me.

Neither have I.

“Hikosane, I’m going on a long journey first – to spend time with my brother and look for my father. I don’t know exactly when I’ll be returning to Azuchi.” Too many directions I wanted and needed to go. No matter where I ended up, part of my heart would be somewhere else.

He looked at me a long time, then ran to me and gave me a long hug. “I am certain I will see you again.”

“You’ll see me tomorrow.” I bowed to him. “Good night, Hiko.”

As he slid closed the door to his room, I wished I were not leaving. I would like to see this child grow up and become whatever it was he was to become. I even wanted to see what kind of damage Shohime would do to the Azuchi warlords.

Who knows… maybe she and Mitsunari would end up together after all. I wished that thought didn’t hurt as much as it did.

I took a deep breath.

And then another.

By the time I got back to our room, I had composed myself… until I opened the door to discover that Mitsunari had lost his mind.

He was …? I tilted my head to try and get a better perspective on what he was… he was… well, it looked like he was playing a game of invisible twister with an octopus.

When he saw me, he blushed, then lost his balance and collapsed in a heap, half on the cushion and half on the floor.

I rushed over to help him up. “Are you alright?” By which I meant both physically and mentally. He scrambled to toss something behind him. It, naturally, bounced off the wall. I put my hands up to avoid getting smacked in the face with it, and –

One of Mozumi’s pillow books?

I looked at the book.

I looked at Mitsunari.

He was still blushing.

For the first time in years, I could think of nothing to say. I might (possibly) have been blushing too. I simply handed the book back to him. My mind still blank, I considered whether I should just back out of the room, then re-enter and do a retake of the entire last five minutes.

Hey. Time travel. It could happen.

@lorei-writes @bestbryn @katriniac @lyds323 @briars7

[cowboyemeritus]

Day 17

Prompt: Knife Play

Pairing: Mary Goore/Reader

Tags: knife play, fear play, blood, brief mention of necrophilia (not serious, just Mary being an edgelord)

Notes: I have a low pain tolerance so this is actually kinda scary to me lol. could not resist using this day for Mary tho. the opportunity was too good.

You know it’s coming. Still, the feeling of cold steel against your neck sends a jolt down your spine. It’s a small blade, but you know that any sharp object is a deadly weapon in his hands. Instinctively, your wrists jerk against the coarse rope binding you to bed frame, the fibers digging into your skin. Mary tuts, pressing his prized pocketknife just a smidge harder into your throat.

“What’d I say about trying to get away, baby?” In a quick motion, so fast it doesn’t register, they flip the knife over, dragging the blunt end across your windpipe. The point catches your skin towards the end of the stroke, just enough to leave a scratch. You gasp, only then realizing it’s a trick. The small prick of pain and the flash of fear has you fluttering around his cock, and he groans, looking rather pleased with himself. “‘M just teasing.” Mary snaps their hips, drawing their fingers in a tight circle around your clit. The stimulation rips a long, airy moan out of you. “I’d never let you go.” He leans down, pressing an oddly gentle kiss to your lips.

“I’d kill you first.”

You whine, thighs squeezing their bony hips. His words are entirely for show, you know this, but the sincerity with which he says them makes it all feel so terrifyingly, erotically real. Mary cackles, relishing in the anguish written across your face.

“Bet you’d make a pretty stiff,” he says, nipping at your earlobe. “Real fuckin’ pretty.”His breath is hot against your skin, smelling faintly of tobacco. You feel the blade drag against your chest, trailing from your collarbone to the swell of your breast. “Can hardly resist you as is. But like that? They had better lock me up.” With a flick of their wrist, the knife slices into your skin. You cry out, your entire body convulsing. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes. It’s not a deep cut, but ruby beads of blood well up immediately, much to Mary’s delight. A tremor runs through them as they watch you bleed, all the while rutting into you like an animal in heat.

“Mary,” you beg, hips bucking up to met his. “Again.” Already, you can feel your climax drawing near. They laugh once more, rising back up to get a good look at you.

“I always knew you were a little freak, babygirl. First time I laid eyes on you, I knew you were the one for me.” He considers your body like an artist would a blank canvas, plotting his next move. The blade migrates to your other side, resting just below your breast. “Love you.” Mary drags the sharp edge diagonally across your ribcage, producing a longer, deeper cut. You scream, hot blood pouring out of the wound, running down your side to pool on the plastic sheet below.

“I- Oh, fuck!” Your eyes roll back in your head as your orgasm takes over, the pain and pleasure working in harmony to drag you down. Feeling your pussy spasm around them, Mary moans, fucking you through as much of your climax as they can. Eventually throwing the knife down — dangerously close to your face — they pull out. All it takes is a few quick jerks and he’s shooting all over your stomach and chest, groaning through a bitten lip. A particularly forceful spurt streaks across the cut over your ribs, the fluid stinging as it soaks into the wound. Mary shudders, watching his seed mix with your blood.

“Love you, too,” you pant, feeling wonderfully lightheaded.

[anony-man]

Part one here!

Chubformers drabble #133!

Characters: Megatron & Megatron X (Cyberverse)

Word count: 1.3k

“Good evening, ‘Cons!” Megatron greeted with a wave from her cushy gamer chair. “I see we’ve got a full house for this stream… no surprises there.”

Adorned in a skimpy new outfit that was already stretched at the seams and looking far more irritable than normal, Megatron had come into the start of her stream prepared. She was desperate to get it over with as quickly as possible this time, and for good reason. Collaborations had become rather popular since she’d begun her gaming, and while she’d branched out far with the additional side videos devoted to mukbangs, gift hauls, and all other sorts of exciting videos her followers begged for her to tape, joining another bot for a stream had been very, very low on her list.

Megatron wasn’t selfish when it came to fame on the web. She was far from it, really, and more often than not encouraged her most popular viewers to explore their own streaming interests. Collaborations and joint videos simply opened up a world of disasters, and with her audience, she’d be damned to find someone even slightly worth working with.

Enter Megatron X, and her streaming partner for the night’s collaboration. Her fans were utterly delighted, of course, especially considering that she herself had taken the advice of a few frequent commenters and bitten the bullet, but Megatron was feeling quite the opposite.

“We’ve got some big plans for tonight,” she continued, clapping her servos together. “Thanks to some wonderfully persistent suggestions on your ends, I’ve decided to dedicate this stream to something new. Inflation is on the agenda, and joining me—“

“Yes, yes, they get the drill,” her companion cut in. Megatron X came zooming into focus, forcing the near-identical and very disgruntled version of himself to huff and scoot aside. “Hi guys, it’s me, your favorite Megs—“ under his breath and behind a not-so-discreet servo, he added— “and the almost devaststor of your entire planet’s Cybertronian population… but anyway, welcome to our stream!”

“Mhmm,” Megatron hummed, her arms crossed over her pudgy belly. “Welcome to my stream—and thank you, Megatron X, for joining us tonight.”

“Please,” her multiverse counterpart purred through gritted teeth, “just call me Megatron. It’ll be easier for all of us, don’t you think?”

She would have sat and glared at him for the entirety of their allotted stream if she could, but Megatron let it drop with a huff and a shake of her helm. Getting up from her chair after she’d become wedged in so comfortably was a challenge, but someone had to retrieve the fuel pump—and it certainly wasn’t going to be her stream imposter.

“We went over a few ideas the past few nights,” she said, speaking over her shoulder as she slowly moved across the room, “but I think we could do with a refresher.”

Her frame jiggled with every step, and from the pings from her monitor, the fans were liking what they saw. Megatron had chosen another of the too-small and too-tight outfits her top viewer had sent over the weeks, and for a night like this with Megatron X as her company, she knew she’d need something eye catching to keep the focus where it belonged. Thin straps dug into the many folds of mesh and the sagging fat of her was in constant motion as she stood on her toes to reach the tube, bent over low to plug it in, and then dragged it ever slower across the room to where her less than pleased companion sat keeping the chat company.

“It’s the first inflation stream on this channel, so we’ll keep it short,” she said as she plopped back down into her seat, leaving Megatron X to glower at the creak of its strained base. “One tube this time—first one to tap out loses.”

“Ah, a competition?” Megatron X said, already reaching for the tube on his side of the machine. “Don’t let this pretty frame fool you. I’ve got tanks of steel and a pretty fraggin’ good appetite to back me up.”

A snappy retort was at the tip of her tongue, but Megatron held her peace. She’d gotten good at this, and inflation or no, she knew her limits… or lack thereof. What was a little bottomless fuel filling her up and rounding her out to worry about?

“Ready when you are,” Megatron X mumbled around the tube’s opening sliding into place.

Megatron glanced at the monitor, which was alight with comments, pings, donations, and piling members joining in for the show. The switch was flipped, and both mechs moaned aloud as the first few mouthfuls of fuel were downed.

They were off to a good start, and in the beginning, Megatron almost had hope that their (hopefully) brief collaboration. As the pump steadied on and his belly grew, however, things started looking rather bleak. Megatron X, for one, was especially looking bleak.

It was just as she’d expected, as the lesser version of herself had grown little more than a fuel baby belly and was already beginning to struggle. She herself was filing up nicely, and the strings of the cheeky thong outfit her supporter had gifted her was nearing its limits. Megatron X was having none of it, though, and as he fought the bloat of his swollen belly, he kept one servo to rubbing and the other to… to…

Oh, slag no. He was not turning off their pump!

“Mmph,” Megatron mumbled around the tube, struggling to speak against the fuel flowing down her throat. “Mm-mm!”

She attempted to swat his hand away, but to no avail. Like Megatron X and his rapidly bloating belly, she, too, was pinned to her seat. The energon flow was steady and endless (which was the point, and she’d warned him of that plenty of times before), just as she had hoped. To stop it now would be like giving up her entire stream.

“Mm-mmhmm!” Megatron X cried back, his expression a mixture of pain and irritation as he turned from reaching for the switch to swatting Megatron’s servo away in kind. “Mmp—hupp-gurrgh!”

Satisfied for the moment as her troublesome opponent turned his attention to soothing his belly and stomaching the rest of the burps that worked their way up his throat, Megatron went back to admiring her own progress. A string had already torn, and the rest of her top was hanging by thin tendrils just waiting to snap. The pings on the console were endless by then, and with them both sporting big, sloshy bellies—

All of a sudden, the fuel pump stopped. Megatron snapped her helm up and glared as she ripped the tube from her mouth.

“What are you doing?” she snapped. “You’re ruining the stream!”

“I can’t take any more,” Megatron X panted in return. With both servos cupping his swollen, sloshy, stuffed middle, he moaned. “It’s too much… what are you doing, trying to offline me?”

“You agreed to this!” Megatron spat as she waved a servo wildly. “Look at you, you’ve hardly made a difference!”

“Oh, is that so?” Megatron X shouted back. “Why don’t you get your fat aft over here and find that out for yourself?”

The two bots struggled against their chairs, both having become pinned to their chairs by the wait of their bellies. Drained tubes lay abandoned on the floor as they clawed the air and spat insults at each other from afar, filling the air between their bellies with swinging servos and hurled words. It was a nightmare of a stream, and Primus, Megatron couldn’t even begin to imagine the damages it would cause. The damages in question, though, were not to be found.

Between the hissy cat fight both mechs found themselves in, the cameras taped on, and the comments piled in. It wasn’t just a good stream, but the best stream, and all thanks to the impressive shot of two sloshy bellies swinging as the remnants of an attempt at inflating themselves up lay in the background.

Megatron was happy to swear off future collaborations right then and there, but in the comments, her fans had other plans.

[summonthebats]

Mel and Viktor have a productive meeting. Not nice, but productive

"If you tell me to expect you I can tell others you are expected." The way the prickly shopkeeper settled was, vexing but not unexpected. The way Elora, still standing before Mel like she didn't know about the magic shields, relaxed at the voice though. That was almost offensive.

"Well if you were a little easier to contact I would have done, but you don't make yourself easy to talk to."

"Yes, yes, I'll just magic up an entire postal system shall I? The runes will be so simple I am sure."

Mel whirled, poked him in the chest with considerably more drama than force.

"Do not do the runes!" She blinked at the skin under her fingertip, then again as she considered the garments that had led to this. Jayce had most certainly not seen this outfit. Was that shirt more a Medarda or Talis red? Was she really fool enough to follow that line of thought? "Why are you wearing a corset? Which suits you wonderfully I must say."

"Was that physically painful to say? It is a back brace. Why do you look like a pirate? Good day Elora, lovely to see you again. This is Hux, he will be able to answer your questions of logistics."

"Oh thank- I mean it is lovely to meet you Huck, I look forwards to us working together."

The business like nod would be, odd, in Piltover. But the man with the unfortunate hairline looked far to amused for there to be anything untoward meant by it in Zaun. Viktor rolled his eyes at them both, a half-smile curling his mouth.

"Hux, Elora is our line on, eh, distant suppliers and smug Pilties. Be polite. By my standards, not yours."

"Do you remember that time you-"

"Shut up kindly. Get this woman a drink. You. Why are you here?"

The tone was sharp, the words brisk, but the body language was perhaps the most welcoming she had ever seen on Viktor. Even as he waved their assistants towards the little table in the corner and led her back into the faded sunshine outside. To perch on a grubby railing apparently, not really far enough from the main drag to be anything like private. Well at least Elora had a seat and something to write on, it wasn't as though he had expected her.

There had been three chairs at the little table, the only table in the little eatery. A cause for the choice of venue perhaps? But it sat wrong. The proprietor had been too suspicious of them, when she clearly recognised Elora, to seem ought but protective. And what bond had an Undercity cook formed with one of the academy's best in the scant months he had been here? How had he won that loyalty?

"Were you ever going to tell me that Salo was trying to kill you?" The passersby must have heard her, but none glanced towards them.

"Eh, what could you have done about it?" Viktor seemed more amused than anything else. The picture of ease, leaned back with his crutch caught in one elbow. "He wasn't going to stop until something made him."

"He had no clear cause to start." Nor to have pulled, whatever plan it was he had pulled, with his will. So far as she knew at least. "Did he even know your name before?"

Mel, begrudgingly, joined her erstwhile ally on the railing. The by passers continued to pass them by, which was odd in a way. Her beauty had proven a most effective weapon in Piltover, but seemed barely noticed here. Eyes might drift, but none lingered.

"I would not bet on it. But he came to me for healing, after my resurrection, I presume the manner was not to this liking. And then he was killed while connected to the Hexcore." It was, interesting, to watch the way he shrugged. Something about the way he rolled his shoulders above the stark stiffness of the corset, the contrasting lines of a harsh carved face turned sweetly to the thin light. A portrait in motion. "It is of no matter."

"If you had died it would have been of quite some matter Viktor." Utterly ridiculous, ridiculous, stupid man. How dare he look so perplexed? How could this absolute idiot not have realised how vital he was to half her plans? Or at least to Jayce, if he didn't care about that. The last thing anyone needed was another round of resurrection gone wrong, surely he could not have forgotten that? "Aside from the glaringly obvious matter of our current works even. Do please try to recall that we have irate mages pending, I will need your assistance in the matter."

Viktor was, staring blankly at her. Such a clever man, such an absolute idiot. What god had cursed her to like this relentless little twit?

"...What mages? And how, under agreed upon limitations, do you expect me to help?"

For a moment all Mel could do was stare. Viktor, or at least what Viktor had become, had. Had been in her mind. Had coiled about her every thought. Had stripped her of anger and fear and grief in a way that caused half her nightmares and made odd depthless dreams of her mother's once and no longer death. Had been able to view every thought and memory she had like they were written before him.

"You were in my head. You could see everything."

"You presented no threat. Why would I so invade your privacy when there was no need?"

To know. The answer came so readily, impossible to spit into the face of such honest bafflement. To understand. To see all the moving parts and know every way to move them to get whatever he wanted from her. To secure influence and power. Yet that was foolish, wasn't it? Viktor, or the Hexcore or whatever dreadful amalgamation they had formed had no need of additional power. No call to manipulate anyone. No one would have been left to debate him, and no one would have been able to make him listen to a word.

Mel came back to herself on the ground, magic humming under her skin and the armour on the back of her hands too bright.

Viktor had not come closer. One hand hovering as if to touch, and the other fisted about the railing as though to stop himself. Caught himself then, before he could make a mistake with consequences they could not guess at.

Two deep breaths before she could force herself up off her knees. Two more before she could take Viktor's outstretched hand. Another three before words could come.

"My apologies, it seems I had not quite, internalised the reality of our, previous situation. So, you have in fact been letting me tell you things on the assumption that you already knew, thus granting you an advantage in our plans you would not have had. Clearly the Undercity has done wonders for your political acumen." She couldn't do this, not this, not here, not before this echoing ruin of a god or dreadfull mercy. "The mages are enemies of my mother, who had no reservations in murdering Elora, my brother and untold others in pursuit of her. I do hope I may count on your aid in this matter."

"I owe you enough for that." It was interesting, how Viktor could force his voice so even when he couldn't control his face. Those oh so expressive eyebrows were quite the disadvantage when he was trying to pretend that her fear didn't half gut him. "But I cannot be trusted to make weapons, and magic is not easily defended against with technology. What do you need of me?"

"Well, magic. Your magic."

The passersby were still going about their business. Truly Zaun had a remarkable tolerance for strange behaviour. Even in Noxus someone having a little fit at the side of the road would had drawn comment, and in Piltover the enforcers would have been summoned.

"I have no inherent magic, and no technology to harness it by. Mel, we agreed that. We agreed. What do you, what is expected?"

He, didn't. He didn't know?

It was more difficult to direct magic to a small area, downright hard to focus it to a tiny, good as harmless, purpose. But practice always paid off. The rebound, where Viktor instinctively slapped her tiny spell back at her, was little more than a patch of too hot skin where their palms met.

Certainly nothing that warranted his flinch. Certainly nothing to justify his terrified eyes or deathly pallor. Nothing to make him sway like that.

Mel caught him, held him up, let him panic silently into her shoulder. He hadn't known. He probably hadn't wanted to know. The pacifist scientist and the unstoppable force were one and the same, but who would wish to admit it?

"Isn't magic supposed to be a talent you are born with? I didn't, I'm not supposed too..."

"Talent is no more than what you do with it." And didn't it sting, to speak her mother's callous wisdom. "I may have been born with a knack for the beasts, but you're the one who went out and learned their habits and preferences and taught a dragon to play fetch." "...I cannot have a dragon Mel. I cannot be trusted with a dragon.”

"No? Well it seems to have followed you home regardless. I suggest you decide how to manage that before it grows tired of sleeping on your doorstep."

[ilovecupcakesandtea]

Chapter one Chapter eight My master list

Title: Chapter seven

Word Count: 1628

Archive Warnings: Smut in future chapters. Slight angst. Alcohol misuse.

Rating: E

Pairing(s): Eddie Munson/Steve Harrington Robin Buckley/Chrissy Cunningham

Character(s): Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley, Chrissy Cunningham, Benny, Uncle Wayne & The Party

Tags: Smut. Angst. Steddie. Buckingham. Steve Harrington. Eddie Munson. Robin Buckley. Chrissy Cunningham. Band AU. TW Alcohol use.

Summary (optional): Two different styles of music, two boys that really don't like each other. What could possibly go wrong?

Beta Reader: Thank you so much to my beautiful beta readers @slippy-slip @ladydarklord & @dontwasteyourchances

Art link and credit: Art is by the wonderfully talented @pink-luna-moth (as is the banner)

Fic link and credit: Ao3 Link

AN: First off thank you to Alex for the art and being just amazing to work alongside. Thank you to Slip for dragging me back from the edge so many times over this. I really am so excited to have this out here!!

I wrote this for the @strangerthingsreversebigbang event and had a lot of fun doing so!!

Divider links: reblog and music notes

Two weeks later, the girls set their plan into motion. Chrissy had told Eddie that she wanted to meet him at his favourite coffee shop and Robin told Steve the same. The morning of, all they could both do was wait and hope it all went ok. 

Eddie was the first to arrive, thinking back he should have known something was wrong. Chrissy wasn’t a fan of this coffee shop, she preferred the sugary drinks from the place around the corner. He sat down and knowing full well he was about 10 minutes early got his book out to kill time. 

“Have you seen Robin?” a voice asked from beside him, “I was meant to be meeting her here” 

“And I was meant to be meeting her little meddling witch of a girlfriend.” Eddie sighed, looking up at the face of Steve. 

“This was a set up, wasn’t it?” Steve grumbled.

“ ‘fraid so” Eddie replied, “you don’t need to stay if you don’t want to” 

“No, we should talk, if they’re getting involved it’s gone on too long,” Steve said sitting down with his coffee opposite the other brunette. “What have I done? Don’t say it’s not me because I’m the only one you’ve been ignoring and I’m the only one you avoid. So, what have I done?” 

“That night at the club hurt, ok? I wasn’t expecting declarations of love or even a date. But damn, it was cold as fuck to just go and find someone else to take home right under my nose.” Eddie said, fidgeting with his fingers. 

This felt like a make-or-break moment; there was a chance Steve could get really freaked out and walk away from everything. Steve could tell him he was with that other guy and that they could still be friends or he could tell him that taking that guy home was a mistake. 

“You zipped up your pants and walked away from me within seconds” Steve pointed out. “We walked back into the club, grabbed drinks, and you walked away from me without a second thought.”

“I wanted to give you space. We haven’t exactly been the best of friends, well ever. I wanted to give you a chance to work out what you wanted, if anything, from me.” Eddie replied, finally looking at Steve. “You went and found someone within a handful of minutes and didn’t take too much longer after that to take him home, so I figured you didn’t want anything from me. It just really hurt to see it thrown in my face is all.” 

“I’ve been such an idiot.” Steve declared moving to sit by the other man “I thought you walking away meant you didn’t want anything and regretted what had happened. I found him to make myself feel better, he was actually awful in bed” he ended with a laugh. 

“I’m not even going to pretend to be sorry that my replacement was bad in bed” Eddie smirked, turning to face Steve. 

“He could never replace you. You’re the most insufferable person I know, but despite that, I’d like a do-over of this whole thing. If that’s ok with you.” Steve asked. 

“I’m sure we can do that. It was a miscommunication on both parts.” Eddie said

“Can we turn this into a date? A coffee date or a date somewhere else, you choose, I just want to take you on a date” Steve said.

“How about take away coffee and a walk back to mine?” Eddie asked, suggestively raising an eyebrow.

“I’ll get the coffee” Steve replied, standing up and heading back to the counter as quickly as he could, leaving Eddie cackling after him on the couch. 

The walk back to Eddie’s consisted of holding hands, drinking coffee, and pressing each other into as many walls as they could with kisses and giggles. 

Stumbling through the door to the apartment, clothes were quickly shed. The two boys made their way through to the bedroom, where they spent the next few hours wrapped together.  

“Shall I make us something to eat before we have to head to band practice?” Eddie asked later in the day, walking out of his bedroom in just his sweatpants slung low on his hips. 

“Please babe, I am hungry after that workout.” Steve laughed, following him in his boxers and a t-shirt he’d grabbed off the floor that he was sure was Eddie’s now he looked at it again.

“We can’t tell the girls their plan worked, we’d never hear the end of it if we did.” Eddie said, starting to go through his cupboards for the ingredients he needed.

“Agreed, say nothing has changed but make it very obvious something has?” Steve suggested. 

“I like your way of thinking,” Eddie declared as he started to cook.

Walking into Chrissy’s garage in the early evening they noticed that the girls were both already there and going over some lyrics they must have been working on. 

“Look bunny, it looks like they made up” Robin cheered, nudging Chrissy and nodding toward the boys that had just walked in.

“Not at all, your ridiculous plan didn’t work, I walked out as soon as I saw him” Eddie frowned, his arm very clearly slung over Steve’s shoulder and Steve’s arm very clearly around his waist. 

“Which is for the best because I wouldn’t have stayed anyway,” Steve said. 

“Ok, sure,” Robin shrugged. “Eddie’s shirt looks good on you though so maybe steal from his wardrobe more” 

“You’re welcome asshole” Chrissy shouted as she headed back into her house to grab something. 

Things changed from that evening onwards. Band practice was a lot more relaxed and hanging out for a little bit afterward always happened. Writing practice also saw a change in the lyrics, gone were the days of Eddie being poetic over doomed love he was now waxing lyrical over ‘big brown doe eyes’ and thick heads of soft brown hair. 

The band interacted more on stage as well in their next gig which the fans seemed to love. Eddie was his normal charismatic self but he was all over Steve, touching him every opportunity he got, running his hands through Steve’s chest hair, on display as it always was when he was on stage, and singing any kind of dirty lyric to him.

“So, guys, you know my mom’s been in contact with a few record studios to get us sometime in a booth so we can record some of our songs and finally get them out there?” Chrissy asked as they all sat around her garage writing one evening. “Well, she’s managed to get us one week next month! We need to decide what we’re going to be recording.”

Chrissy’s mom had taken an almost manager’s role, her job as a lawyer and specialising in contract law she wanted to make sure if the band did get shown any kind of contract that they were treated fairly. Letting the band manage the actual running of the band and any drama there, keeping to making calls and checking contracts. 

“That’s amazing! I’ll make sure to get her some flowers to say thank you” Steve said from his spot on Eddie’s knee. 

“Should I be jealous? You never get me flowers, are you trying to woo Mrs Cunningham under my nose?” Eddie teased, poking Steve’s ribs and making him giggle.

“Yes, I’m trying to seduce Chrissy’s mom.” Steve replied, rolling his eyes “Think it’ll work Chris or do I need to add more Harrington charm to things when I see her next?” 

“Please don’t talk about you and my girlfriend’s mom” Robin gagged, causing everyone else to fall around laughing.

One of Eddie’s friends, Gareth, was a producer and was free enough to join them for their recording session. The band had spent the three weeks they had between finding out and recording to practise the songs they wanted to record as much as possible and running through the track order so it all flowed smoothly. 

The Monday morning of recording week saw the band awake and at the studio bright and early setting everything up ready for when Garetharrived. He had already spoken to them over speakerphone to give them a rundown of how the week would go and a timeline for what would happen after. They had decided that the album would be 10 songs lasting roughly 50 minutes. 

“Let's get this show on the road!” Gareth shouted as he walked into the studio where the band was waiting. “Quicker we start laying things down, the quicker all this comes together. Almost no song ever gets recorded just once so be patient and stick with it and it’ll be magic, okay?” 

It was decided that the bass and drums for each song would be recorded first so that they could be used to keep the beat for the vocals and guitar. The first couple of songs were recorded fast and by the end of the first day the band walked away exhausted and achy but with a feeling that something great really was happening. 

The rest of the album was recorded during the rest of the time they had, the band having to take breaks to rework things with Gareth's Input so that everything flowed better. As they left the studio in the early hours of the Saturday morning, there was a real buzz of excitement over what they had managed to accomplish in the last few days. They had been able to have a listen to a rough copy of the album before they left and they were all really proud of what they had been able to accomplish on their own, well with Gareth’s help. Now to get it out there and on sale.

[not-bcring]

The scene opens up on a grand throne, ornately crafted golden frame with red velvet seats. Daisuke sits upon the throne with a devil-may-care expression plastered to his face. He adorned official-looking royal guard, complete with a crown and a shoulder cape. Upon seeing the camera had turned on, a smirk found itself on his face before he addressed a non-existant audience. "Greetings, Kingdom of Araya. I am Prince Daisuke of Yume, and I'm addressing you all today to let you know there's been a little change of management around here. But you don't have to take it from me," he announced, ending his statement by motioning to Ayumu standing off set. ( Gift for your pink brat. ) - ✧ ˖ ˙ 「 @ncughty-uwu 」 ˙ ˖ ✧

「 ☆ 」 Ayumu had been eager to try out this scene since Daisuke first propositioned it—his boyfriend has the most wonderfully creative and filthy imagination —the videographer slipping into daydreams whilst in the middle of work. Contemplating how he wanted to play his character. Would he be sheepish and subdued? The poor fallen Prince of a recently conquered kingdom. While it goes against his nature, it can be fun to indulge in a more demure demeanor. Especially when about to be corrupted by a dominant force... But perhaps he should be more combative and cocky?

With his head still held high and expectations of somehow reclaiming his rightful place. Even if he must first face insurmountable odds... as well as the firm and teasing hand of a new ruler. The simulated humiliation would be delicious. Unraveling before an imaginary audience of his subjects, brought to his knees before the ruthless tyrant who invaded his home. Going from brattish to potentially begging... What can Ayumu say? He's not immune to the allure of acting. Nor is his boyfriend, evident by the ease of which Daisuke slips into the smug role.

When given his cue, Ayumu has made his decision... He can't help but meet that smirk with an equivalent challenge.

Sucking in a steadying breath as he embodies his role, spine is straight and chin is raised as he smoothly enters the scene. Each proud step is accented by the rattle of the chains binding his hands and dragging along the ground. Ayumu wears the symbol of servitude as if it were merely an accessory befitting the Prince he ❛ used to be ❜ . Chosen ensemble is sheer and shameless, barely acting as concealment for the body it's complimenting. Extravagant with its golden-thread embroidery, it hugs his curves and pairs with the ribbons interwoven in his hair; pink locks done up in messy buns for the occasion.

Sparing a brief glance at the camera as if regarding his former subjects, expression doesn't change from regally dismissive. Paying no mind to having been adorned as though a prize for the victorious Prince of Yume, the defeated Prince of Araya beholds the man perched upon his throne. ❝ I suggest you enjoy this while you can... because you won't be on that throne for long. Besides— ❞ A cheeky smirk takes the place of indifference, dare-say flirtatious as Ayumu lets his eyes flit up and down Daisuke's royal form, only to brattily declare, ❝ It doesn't suit you. ❞ 「 ☆ 」

[cmon-butch]

04 S2 CARTOONS

TW: drug mentions.

“I dont w-want to go out,” Liam whines.

“We’re not leaving, darling. I’m just getting you dressed for the day,” Harvey tells him, dragging his sweat pants up Liam’s legs. Throughout the past few days, Harvey has been making sure his pet is comfortable.

“I don’t want to go,” Liam wails. Harvey watches as big tears roll down the boys face.

Harvey stops dressing him, cupping his face in gentle hands. “We aren’t going out, Liam dear. We’re staying right here.”

The pet cries, his body quaking with each sob. He doesn’t speak. He just cries.

Harvey sighs. The pills have made him more and more foggy as the days go on. This reminds him of when Liam first arrived there, although not as bad.

He was so timid then. The first time he woke up in Harvey’s house was a struggle. He thrashed against his restraints, screaming for someone named Alex. Alex must have been important to him in his past life.

After a few days, he lost his voice. The screaming stopped. The thrashing became less frequent. Harvey shoved amnesia pills down his throat every morning, force feeding him as well. Liam very nearly bit him at some points.

About a week afterwards, the pills kicked in. He started becoming more docile. The boy was asking Harvey questions about who Alex was, as if he’d know. He had forgotten where the name came from.

The baths started about that point. Harvey had wanted some intimate time with his pet and he figured this would be the way to do it. He would drug the boy up, take off his clothes, and bathe him gently. He knew Liam didn’t much like it at first but afterward he began to accept it, leaning into Harvey’s touches as he was washed.

Harvey started art projects the same way. Before an art session, the man would inject Liam with a sedative. He would be docile enough to paint, propped up by an arm chair. The pictures would come out wonderfully. The money that he would get from his art work online became more abundant. He was getting somewhere in life.

“I want to s-stay here,” Liam cries, trying to pull away from the shirt Harvey tries to put on him.

Harvey sighs. “Liam, dear, listen to me.”

The boy sniffles, his scattered attention focusing for the first time in days.

“We aren’t going anywhere. We’re staying home. Do you hear me?”

Liam comprehends what he’s saying after a moment, his eyes red from tears. “We’re not going?”

“No, darling. We’re staying here for a long while.” Harvey finishes putting on his shirt with the gentlest motion. “How about some food? Are you hungry, darling?”

“I d-don’t know,” Liam mutters.

Harvey smiles at him. “That’s good enough.” He scoops the boy up, holding him close to his own chest. He knows the boys favorite food is spaghetti. It said so in his information file.

The information file. That’s how Harvey picked Liam out. Harvey got six of them in the mail. Six different pets he could have gotten. All their information was there. Everything from their birthdate to their clothing style. Harvey looked each over carefully and chose the most beautiful boy out of them all.

Liam Richmond. He was stunning in that picture the WPO had taken of him. He was a class three trainee out of five. Meaning, the boy would be easier to train than others. They said he was docile. They said he was quiet. The file told Harvey that he was smart. An intellectual. The man couldn’t pass a boy like that up. Especially not when he imagined paint on that pets skin.

Liam was shipped in a large truck the week after he chose his candidate. He was blindfolded. He had a chloroform clothe over his face, keeping him asleep. The WPO took him in on a stretcher, setting him down on the mattress Harvey had prepared in the corner of his bedroom. Strapping on the restraints, they gave him the amnesia pills then left.

That was how it started. It wasn’t cheap but it was absolutely worth it.

“We’ll take it easy today. Maybe I’ll turn on some cartoons for you to watch,” Harvey says, going through the doorway and to the kitchen.

Liam brightens up. He likes cartoons. They make him laugh.

The man smiles, setting the boy down in one of the chairs at the dining room table. Liam might not be able to track any sort of storyline in the cartoons while he’s feeling like this, but at least he’ll be happy.

“Let’s make you some food, darling. Does spaghetti sound good?”

A smile spreads across the pets face. He’s so happy. That’s all Harvey wants. For the both of them to be happy.

[the-chomsky-hash]

[2. Roussel, in 1932, had sent to the printer part of the text which would become, after his death, How I Wrote Some of my Books, doubtless linked to the instance of the revelation that they carried - cont'd]

[a. He is found dead: he had dragged himself with his mattress right up against the communicating door which opened onto Charlotte Dufresne's room. This door, at all times, was to remain open; it was found locked - cont'd]

iii. Are there any other keys now than this last text which is there, motionless, right up against the door?

Motioning to open?

Or the gesture of closing?

Holding a wonderfully equivocal simple key, suitable in a single turn to lock or release:

–[either] carefully closing in on a death without possible attack

–or perhaps transmitting, beyond it, that dazzlement the memory

of which had not left Roussel since his nineteenth year [upon completion of what he considered a great work]

of which he had tried, in always vain, except perhaps that night, to regain clarity

– Michel Foucault, Dire et voir chez Raymond Roussel (Speaking and Seeing in Raymond Roussel), 1962

[elysian-i]

Atta Girl

Summary: Draco makes you ride his abs.

Warnings: Smut. ab riding / ab fucking. praise mixed with degradation. dom!draco.

a/n: so, um, yeah this might be weird but i basically just wrote this for myself 😗, it's good if you all like it too.

NAVIGATION

--------

It looked as if they'd been carved into his skin by the most proficient of artists— like a work of renowned painters. The most brilliant of them.

It's certainly a pretentious way to describe muscles that lay on his skin, but everything about him, somehow found a way to do that.

And you found yourself, infatuated— possessed by him.

Your possessive hands trail down to the toned hard muscles, pressing your palms into him— almost moaning as you felt them tense underneath you.

"What's going on in that pretty head of yours, doll?" Draco smirks, already aware of what he does to you.

Your teeth dig into your lip, staring into his eyes, "Just, that— that, your abs, I— I don't know"

His grin widens at that, he grips your hips tightly, pulling you up from his thighs and onto his abdomen.

"You want to ride them darling?"

Your cheeks heat up in embarrassment, but your cunt aches at the thought of getting off his abs.

"Please" you whisper, curling your hands around his shoulders, "Please Draco"

He presses a kiss on your mouth, it was hard and demanding "Go on then, be a pretty slut for me"

It only takes a roll— a drag of your hips.

And you're already gasping for air. The friction wonderfully satisfying; tending to all your needs.

"Fuck" You whimper as his guides you, pressing you down harder onto his abdomen. You work tirelessly, eager for your climax.

"You look so fucking beautiful like this, fucking yourself on me" Draco growls, his mouth finding it's way to your tits, taking your nipple into his warm mouth.

You moan, over and over. Struggling to keep yourself up, your head dips down, and you whimper at the sight of his stomach covered in your arousal.

You'd made a fucking mess on him.

But he seemed to be rather enjoying it. ‘Atta girl, that's it’ a series of praises came from him, encouraging you to go faster. His mouth returns to sucking on your sensitive buds, and his hands hold your waist tightly.

"Does that feel good?" he questions, detaching his lips from your tits, "S— so fucking good" you respond.

It was the precise and guided motions. The drag of your clit upwards, the roll of your hips, the stilled swaying and then the slow movements of Draco.

His own body grinding up from below you. Helping you get to your orgasm quickly.

"Draco, I'm— I'm close" he smirks again, his ego boosting more and more with each one of your whimpers and moans,

"Cum for me baby"

And you give in, right there and then.

It was blissful— euphoric— far better than you'd imagined it.

Sweat glistens on your body as your movements falter. More moans and gasps come from you as you cum on Draco's abs.

"That's like my girl" Draco simpered, his lips brushing gently against the skin of your forehead.

--------

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[oatmilkovich]

i rewatched episode 6 (i like to torture myself) and the scene of wille getting ready to give the statement. it absolutely kills me. how he's so anxious and alone, yet pulls himself together and makes himself do it, does what's expected of him. maybe he thinks it'll be okay, because it's the only way. it'll be even worse if he doesn't do it. and after he puts himself through it, it does get worse 😭

i would love to hear what your favourite scenes are, acting wise!

okay anon i also just rewatched ep 6 also and i am in pain 💔god that build up to him giving the statement, the way his whole resolve just drops in the car as his mum talks him into denying it – the worse thing is like, we know he doesn't believe that it was the only way – we know that he thought that he was going to be able to talk his mum around and get her to understand...

now the acting. this may get hella rambley so i'm going to shove it under the cut because i know the majority of my followers won't care lol <3

edvin's approach to wilhelm's anxiety is most likely my favourite acting aspect of the entire show – it's incredibly nuanced for someone of his age (not in a condescending way bc there's only like 5 years between us lol but like, you hardly see that degree of detail in a way that isn't over played or presented rather than experienced by seasoned Adult Actors). i know he's mentioned previously that it's something he relates to which is very clear in how personalised his work is. when we see wilhelm experience high anxiety it's honest to the moment because it's grounded in truth. he's connected it with his own anxiety and not in a way that lets his own experience do the work (which is method and that's 👎imo) but that it informs the decisions and motions wilhelm goes through in the scenes.

one of my favourite scenes where we see his anxiety manifest is in the scene in episode 5 where wilhelm tells him that he doesn't want to lose him.

the way he's clearly so distressed at the idea of losing simon that you can hear the emotion in his voice from the beginning of the conversation but as the scene goes on, his resolve begins to crumble and the anxiety he's been holding back comes to the surface when they hug. the way edvin let the anxiety inform the scene rather than direct the scene was so impressive – we can see and feel wilhelm's emotions but they don't take over the scene. omar plays wonderfully off them also and the hug they share is heart wrenching.

another scene i find myself rewatching over and over is the one where he confronts august in episode 6. immediately when wilhelm walks into the room you can feel the anger and fury radiate off of him. i really love how it wasn't approached as this huge screaming confrontation – whilst his definitely does yell at him (deservingly so) it again doesn't overpower the emotional drive behind the dialogue. wilhelm isn't just angry here – he's heartbroken.

august was one of wilhelm's last proper connections to erik – we know wilhelm looks up and trust's erik's judgements more so than anyone else so to be betrayed by that, by someone erik loved so much, it's heartbreaking. he was told he could trust him, he was told he would do right by him and he was wrong. all of this pain wilhelm is going through his partly because the queen wants to protect erik's legacy and give his death meaning, and here august completely spat upon it all. edvin does a phenomenal job w the line deliveries, they're clear and devastating and cut right to the heart.

i was going to end the post here, but i'm going to quickly highlight omar's work in The Break Up scene because they both work off of each other beautifully.

there is such a quiet devastation to omar's line delivery here - simon's clearly heartbroken but he's determined to stand up for himself and stand his ground (i just realised that maybe he took sara's words about letting people piss on him truly to heart). the dialogue comes out slowly and not in a way that drags or is over played for the drama, but for the audience to truly understand how difficult it is for simon to say these things AND how important it is for wilhelm to hear them.

i'm now going to end the post otherwise it's gonna get super long lol and i'm not even sure who else is going to read this but! the acting on this show is phenomenal (particularly from these two) and i could probably write many, many posts about it! it's only been a week since i first watched it and i've watched it through maybe 4 or 5 times since then because i can't get enough of the acting. it's truly something special.

thanks for asking anon! ❤️

[just-a-creep-babe]

Teasing & Denial~

Ticci Toby x Reader Smut

Commissioned by anonymous, thank you so much luv 🥰😘

Requests are closed

Masterlist: x

His hands are pinned up above his head, shirt lifted to expose his chest while his pants have been shoved down to reveal his cock

He’s hard and throbbing as he twitches beneath your touch

“P-please… please…” he whines

His shallow breaths are hot and heavy as he pants the words out

“F-fuck—pretty please—!”

You chuckle, but refuse to give him what he wants

Instead, you swirl your tongue around the tip of his cock, lapping at the precum beading up his slit

He flexes his wrists against the restraints, jutting his hips up and throwing his head back with a deliciously pathetic whine

“You’re so cute, baby boy~ Such a good, obedient little slut for me, aren’t you?~” you coo

He nods frantically, whimpering

“Y-yes—please. I’m—I’m your good slut, (y/n)! G-god, fuck, please!~”

He jerk up again, looking for some kind of contact, some kind of release—only to get absolutely nothing

You have to bite back a smirk as you run the pads of your fingers up and down the underside of his shaft

His body thrashes—a twitch or voluntary movement, you’re not sure—and more sweet moans escape him

“Tell me what you want, baby. Tell me, and I just might reward you~”

“I—a-ah~ I wanna—wanna cum. P-please, Mistress, I wanna cum so badly. Pretty please—”

You hum

He looks so desperate

You know he’s at a point where he’d do anything for you—and the thought of having someone so dangerous at the mercy of your touch is exhilarating

Without breaking eye contact, you wrap your lips around him and watch as he shudders and gasps

But you don’t take him any further down your throat

Instead, you trace your tongue over his slit, lathering the tip with attention while ignoring the rest of his pulsing length

He looks so cute, so absolutely adorable as he writhes, trying to flex into your mouth, his head falling back and chest heaving with every choked moan

You let him hump himself into your mouth for a while, never letting him get more than a few inches deep before pulling back all over again

He’s so eager, so wonderfully responsive as you pleasure him between your lips

Your tongue flicks at his most sensitive parts in short, quickly repeating motions while you hollow out your cheeks at the same time

You can feel him trying to fuck himself into your mouth as best as he can, moaning and squirming for more

And right as he’s starting to get a bit too eager for your liking, you pull away, and the wet warmth of your tongue disappears from his pulsing cock completely

“N-no! Fuck, fuck—please!”

His fervent protests fall on deaf ears

“Aww, I’m sorry, baby,” you pout mockingly, “Were you getting close again? Hm? Did you wanna cum in my mouth?”

Toby’s always been the softest, sweetest boy you’ve ever been with

You almost feel bad for being so cruel, denying his release for this long despite him being as obedient and submissive as ever

But he’s just so much fun to tease, how could you possibly resist?

He nods at your question, still dazed and reeling from the shock of being denied yet again

You tilt you head, coy smirk playing at your lips, and watch as he takes in deep, shuddering breaths, trying to control the way his hips keep stuttering up for your touch

It’s all too endearing, really~

“So cute, baby. You’re so cute when you get all desperate for me~”

You trace down his torso, and he squirms beneath feather-light touches

“(Y-y/n)—Mistress~”

Panting and shaking, he whimpers your name, looking up at you like you’re a goddess

You toy with your bottom lip between your teeth, body tingling pleasantly at the sight he offers

But still, you manage to resist getting too excited in the moment

Instead, you continue tracing down his form, gently stroking his scarred skin as you give him time to catch his breath

You want him nice and ready for what you have in mind, after all~

When his breathing’s calmed down and you think he’s had enough time to recover, you wrap your hand around the toy strapped to your hips, giving the silicon cock a few strokes just to tease him

His gaze immediately fixates on your movements, his own member twitching in need as his hips rolling up into nothing at the same pace that you jerk the toy

He bites his lip, brows furrowing

And then you release your grip on the fake shaft, chuckling at the urgency in his eyes

“You want this, baby?”

He swallows thickly

“Yes,” he breaths out

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows back another moan before adding, “p-pretty please—“

His begging is all you need to hear 

You reach out, grabbing a fistful of his dark brown locks between your fingers

And then you tug his head to the side for access to his neck, being delicate enough to not injure him, but harsh enough to be firm and commanding

He whines, but lets you take control of his body nonetheless

He’s all yours to use, all yours to play with~

Your lips find purchase on his neck in a teasing kiss, teeth nipping at flesh before moving down to his collarbone

You take your sweet, sweet time littering love marks all over him until reddish-purple flowers are blossoming on his skin

He shudders as you do, still wriggling and writhing beneath you, his member rubbing against your thigh and smearing streaks of white every time he tries to grind up for more friction

“That’s my good boy~”

Your free hand lines the toy up to his entrance while you’re distracting him with your mouth

You murmur encouraging nothings as you ever so slowly ease into him—all the way until the toy’s completely disappearing inside him

His lips part in a hushed moan as you bottom out, his eyes glazing over and back arches for more

“Look at you, baby. You’re so cute, so fucking perfect for me~”

Your eager praises are accompanied by slow, gentle thrusts

His hands ball into fists above his head, muscles tensing as wave upon wave of pleasure crashes through him

There’s a perfectly blissed-out look on his face as you rock into him with calculated movements

Try as he might to hold back his desperate sounds, the room is filled with his eager cries

It’s like music to your ears~

He rolls his hips back, meeting you halfway for every thrust, trying to get you to go faster and harder, but you maintain your even pace

“(Y-y/n), please. More. P-please, I need more~”

You hum, biting your lip, enjoying the way his cock twitches against your stomach

He wants you

He wants you to get him off—wants you to pound into him until he’s nothing but a shambling, babbling mess of a person

But you’re not done having your fun just yet~

“You want more, baby? Yeah? I bet you want me to fuck your dumb little brain out, don’t you?”

He nods frantically, and he’s about to say something, but he quickly cuts himself off with a loud moan as you hit that spot inside him

He jerks, a string of curses escaping him, his body tensing so that you can see his muscles tightening beneath his sweat-slicked skin

His sounds are nearly driving you desperate as well

It takes more willpower than you’d like to admit to pause, keeping still so that the toy is just barely grazing the same spot

“N-no!” he whines in protest, cursing, knowing all too well what you plan on doing to him.

You have to resist touching yourself at the sight of him so worked up

“P-please—don’t stop! Fuck, fuck, fuck! Please—“

“Tsk tsk tsk,” you shush him, tapping your fingers against his thighs, “ah ah, good boys don’t complain now, do they?”

He shuts his eyes, brows furrowing and body trembling as his teeth find purchase on his bottom lip until it bleeds

You smack his thigh, forcing him to release his lip and return his attention back to you

He shakes his head in response to your previous question, swallowing thickly, looking up at you with lust-filled eyes

So submissive

“Good boy~” you praise, purring in satisfaction

You wrap a hand around the base of his cock to reward him, and watch as he bucks up, seeking more of your touch

“Are you gonna take it, baby? Gonna take my cock like the little slut you are?”

He nods eagerly, hands fumbling to grip the bindings for leverage on something

“Yes, please, I’ll be good,” he promises, groaning, “F-fuck, please fuck me, Mistress~”

You hum, running barely-there strokes up and down his stiff member, ever so faintly jerking him off to get him nice and riled up—even more so than he already is

It has his head falling back again, and you savor how vocal he becomes at the slightest hint of contact

You coo more praises, chuckling at how needy he looks when he squirms beneath you

You really do feel bad for teasing him this much when he’s been so obedient, hanging onto your every word—but you just can’t help it

He looks so damn cute when he’s this desperate

The slick pooling between your legs has gotten damn near unbearable by now, but you don’t want to stop just yet

No, you want to drag this out as long as you can

Which is why you take your time toying with him, moving your hips again to readjust him to the tempo of skin smacking against skin

You move faster than the last pace you’d set before, but still not as fast as you know he likes

Every time you pump the toy into him, it reaches right where it needs to—and with every push of your hips, you feel his body tense eagerly with a surge of pleasure and adrenaline

He looks so needy, trembling and mewling beneath you, that you can’t help but succumb to what he wants—what he needs

You give in to the desire to fuck him faster and harder, impaling him on the toy cock like he’s your own personal fucktoy

And your efforts are immediately rewarded

He’s loud and absolutely shameless as he cries out for you, cursing and mewling, yanking at his restraints, his back arching and his cock twitching impatiently

You know he won’t last very long at the rate you’re going

But you don’t want to stop just yet

You use him shamelessly and recklessly, taking out all of your frustrations by pounding into him until he’s gasping for breath

And then, right as he’s about to cum—his member tensing and his voice getting louder as he nears ever so close to ecstasy yet again—you stop

“N-no, fuck!” he cries out, rolling his hips, trying to find the slightest bit more friction to get off, but you pull away again before he can reach it

A few tears spill down his cheeks, his body unable to process the sheer lack of release he’s had to endure for god knows how long by now

“Aww, it’s alright, baby,” you shush him, wiping away his tears. “There’s no need to cry~”

Your cooing doesn’t do much to quell his desperation

“I-I wanna cum. Please, please let me cum, Mistress. Please~”

His begging goes straight to your core

You smoothen out his hair, contemplating the sadistic plan running through your head

You know fully well that you shouldn’t go through with it

It’s much too cruel

But at the same time, you don’t want him to stop being so desperate, so on edge for every faint bit of attention you give him

With a knowing smirk, you shake your head

“No baby, I don’t think you’ve earned it just yet tonight~”

[yelenasdog]

rebel girl (vic de angelis x fem!singer!reader)

𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘 REBEL GIRL  𝐁𝐘 BIKINI KILL

(listen while reading for best experience) 

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff with a sprinkle of angst for .0000002 seconds

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: a kiss during a shared performance turns into something more.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 2.3k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cursing, kissing, drinking, my attempts at writing roman dialect and italian, and i believe that’s it.

𝐚/𝐧: ok so i know not a whole lot abt måneskin so if anything abt this in terms of the band or how they perform is inaccurate forgive me! but i think vic is hot and this song makes me think of her LOL. thanks for reading, and enjoy the fic!! <3

(all translations will be linked at the end of the fic)

♀~♀~♀

The cheers of the crowd were deafening, but it seemed the beating of her own heart was even louder. Lights flashed a plethora of neon colors, and those on the stage looked liked silhouettes moving about freely.

Ethan nodded at Thomas, quickly bringing down his stick to the tightly spread plastic.

Thomas bobbed his head, starting to play the opening riff.

Select members of those in attendance began to cheer, just the opening notes being enough to give away what was about to be performed.

“For our last song tonight, we’d like to bring out someone you all know and love.” Damiano spoke into his mic, wrapping an arm around Vic’s neck and allowing her to lean down into the microphone in his hand.

“She’s someone that everyone, including myself, heavily admire as an icon of the generation and a true Riot Grrrl.”


Her eyes closed, a deep breath inhaled and exhaled through her painted mouth. She jumped up and down in her heeled boots, face pointed towards the rickety ceiling of the venue as she did so. She ran a ring adorned hand over her earpieces and made a funny face, making sure they were adjusted to her liking.

A stagehand appeared to her right, handing her a microphone and wishing her good luck. She smiled, responding with a quick “thanks” and a smile.

Victoria looked over from her place on the stage with Damiano, a devilish glint in her eye.

“Here for one night only, London let us introduce” he yelled, leaning down to Vic’s level once more, allowing them to both speak at once, “Y/n Y/l/n!”

A roar erupted from everyone in the building as the aforementioned strutted on stage, lifting the mic to her lips.

“That girl thinks she’s the queen of the neighborhood, she’s got the hottest trike in town.” She started, finding her mark in the center of the stage.

“That girl, she holds her head up so high, I think I wanna be her best friend yeah.” Damiano’s raspy voice let out next, both of their voices mixing together like honey as they started the chorus.

“Rebel girl, rebel girl, rebel girl you are the queen of my world.

Rebel girl, rebel girl.”

“I think I wanna take you home” Y/n began, Damiano then taking over.

“I wanna try all your clothes.” He finished, both him and Y/n groaning in unison to the song.

Vic would be lying if she said she didn’t have to clear both her throat, and her mind. Thomas’ fingers worked skillfully and quickly on the neck of his guitar on the small transitional solo, his focus staying on the cool steel.

Damiano held up his tattooed hand, making a talking motion as he sang and rolled his eyes, “When she talks, I hear the revolution.”

Y/n came up behind Vic, one hand running across her hip, the other on her own as she chose to lean into Vic’s mic over her shoulder, “In her hips, there’s revolutions.”

The lead singer then strutted across the stage back to Ethan, propping a leg up on the base of his kit, and then walking back singing, “When she walks, the revolution’s coming.”

Knowing what line was coming up next, the bassist held her breath, and looked down. It was short lived, though, as Y/n picked up her chin with her pointer finger, forcing her to look her in the eyes. She moved his slowly to Victoria, their lips nearly brushing, her touch feather light.

“In…her…kiss…” she slowly sang, dragging it out longer than in the original song and than in rehearsal. She quickly turned her head, falling to her knees with one side to Vic and one to the audience, her hair cascading over her features.

“I taste the revolution!”

She smiled at Vic as she pushed herself up, a goofy grin plastered onto her face as she allowed Damiano to take the chorus. Victoria replied with only a small smirk, her dark eyeshadow glittering under the colorful lights, making her look like some kind of gothic angel, or celestial being.

Resuming singing, Y/n walked back to the front of the stage, her and Damiano switching every verse. She sat down on the edge, letting her legs dangle over the high surface, feeling fingertips barely touch her unclothed thigh.

“That girl thinks she’s the queen of the neighborhood.”

“I got news for you,”

They both pointed their mics into the audience as the screen behind them flashed “she is!” Allowing the crowd, as well as Thomas, Vic, and Ethan to all scream the two words loudly and in sync.

“I know she is,” her and Dami both sang, as he wrapped an arm around Vic’s neck,

“My best friend yeah”

The chorus continued for a final time, Victoria stomping her heavy platforms on the wooden stage, biting her lip as she performed.

Y/n made her way over to Thomas’ side, jumping to his left and swaying her hair, a knowing smile appearing on his face upon seeing Victoria’s gaze falling upon her movements.

Victoria made rounds to Ethan and then to Thomas, passing Y/n and lightly tapping her hip with her own.

Y/n skipped over to Damiano as he did to her, the pair meeting in the middle briefly for the “love you like a sister, always.”

Victoria returned to her spot from the start, and Damiano found his way to Thomas. Y/n continued on towards the ethereal bassist. The both of them were simultaneously singing to the aforementioned in harmony, nearing the end of the song.

“Soul sister, rebel girl,

Come and be my best friend,

Really, rebel girl.”

Y/n dragged a hand across Vic’s chiseled cheekbone, and in that moment Victoria had taken on the title of a muse for the woman standing in front of her.

“I really like you” she sang to her, lowering her mic as they looked into each other’s eyes, her chest heaving. It was like the music had been reduced down to a slight buzzing, and the thousands of peering eyes meant nothing. They were untouchable.

Y/n resumed for the last line, never breaking her eye contact.

“Be my rebel girl.”

It seemed like a question, a proposal of sorts from one to another, as Y/n’s hand dropped once more.

Victoria quirked a brow as if to ask “are we really doing this?” To which Y/n muttered “fuck it” with a laugh.

Victoria’s hands found either side of Y/n’s face, her calloused fingers rough, yet gentle. Y/n’s own hands found one lazily draped over waist, the other over her shoulder to pull her close.

And in what probably the entirety of the building could have guessed would happen (maybe just not on stage, in that exact moment) they closed the gap between themselves, their lips connecting in a sweet kiss.

Chants and yells of encouragement were whooped by the band and crowd alike, as Damiano raised the mic and the final notes played.

“Y/n Y/l/n everybody!”

They pulled apart, sweaty foreheads against each other’s sides as they turned towards everyone, waving. They were quickly joined by the rest of the group, and Y/n stepped away, leaning into the microphone still hooked on the stand in the center of the stage.

“Let’s hear a huge round of applause for the wonderfully mad Måneskin!” She shouted, the roar of the crowd even louder. She raised her hands in the air, then moving one to her ear, gesturing for them to be louder. They complied, and Y/n took out her earpiece for a moment, soaking in what the band had created.

Vic shouted to Y/n over the noise, waving her over.

“Come on, bow with us!”

Y/n shook her head, not wanting to intrude any further to which Thomas reached out an arm, pulling her over. A bright smile covered her face as Vic reached out, wrapping an arm around her waist only for a second.

Hands joined, they all leaned forward in a dramatic bow, coming back up and waving.

All in sync, they all yelled “thank you, London!”

They looked around for a small period of time afterwards, still having a hard time believing that this was their new reality.

Looking to her right, and seeing Y/n doing the same, Vic decided that Y/n was a specific part of said “new reality” she didn’t quite want to let go of.

So after saying one more goodbye and exiting the stage, the bassist remained silent. It slightly worried Y/n, who had noticed the girl’s lack of communication while she had been thanking the rest of the band members for allowing her to share the stage with them.

“Is Victoria alright?” She asked Damiano, to which he only chuckled before replying.

“She’s fine, trust me. Give her a little bit of time and she will be back to normal.”

Y/n just gave him a tight lipped smile, not completely convinced.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed as Victoria slipped into her dressing room, locking the door.

The rest of the group, already having had a few drinks, was out the door, waiting on a cab.

“Y/n? You and Vic coming?” Ethan questioned.

She nodded, though she was unsure if that was the case, doing her best to cast a reassuring smile in his direction.

Once she made sure they were gone, she knocked twice on the heavy door. Before she could even announce it was her, Vic’s voice rang out.

“Vattene, Damiano!”

“Victoria?” Y/n’s tone floated through the door to the other side, and Victoria face palmed and silently cursed herself. She quickly got up and unlocked the door, regretting her harsh tone.

“Y/n, hi.”

“Hi.” She responded, slight uneasiness about her. Victoria picked up on this immediately, her brows furrowing and her eyes softening.

“Are you alright, Y/n?”

The other girl scoffed and looked at her feet. Scared to break any boundaries now that they weren’t on stage, Victoria cautiously lifted a hand towards her chin, softly picking it up like Y/n had before.

Her voice sounded wavy as she spoke, her jaw slightly hanging slack.

“Actually, I came here to ask the same thing.”

Victoria tilted her head like a confused puppy, leaning up against the doorframe.

“Why? What happened?”

Struggling to find the right thing to say, Y/n began to trip over her words.

“Well, I just, you know, on stage and everything- we were super, y’a know, close and everything and I didn’t wanna, I don’t know. Make you uncomfortable or overstep any boundaries or anything, and if it was just a kiss I didn’t wanna overthink it or read into but, I mean, I really liked it but you seemed to go quiet so-“

Victoria cut off her painful rambling with another kiss, taking firm hold of her arms and moving her inside with her and closing the door with her foot.

“Wow.” Y/n said when they finally pulled apart, her eyes as wide as dinner plates and her pupils the size of the moon.

“Yes, wow.” Vic chuckled, moving a piece of Y/n’s stray hair behind her ear.

“You’re very different when you’re on stage, Y/n. You know that?” She asked, admiring how the fluorescent lights above illuminated Y/n’s features in the most wonderful way.

Victoria had decided she liked her most like this. Vulnerable, sweaty, and with the biggest heart eyes she’d ever seen.

“That’s what I was afraid of.” She laughed.

“No.” Vic frowned, taking her hands. “It’s not a bad thing. Not at all.” She brought her over to the velvet sofa in the corner of the room. “It’s admirable.”

“How?” She asked with a small smile.

“Easy. Because even though your stage persona is lovely,” she laughed, “I think I like this Y/n even better. She seems like she’s kind, and has a big heart with lots of love to give.”

Stunned, the other girl just smiled like an idiot, leaning forward and pecking Vic’s lips.

“Well, what about you?”

“What about me?” The bassist replied, enjoying the banter forming between the pair.

“Why’d you go all radio silent? I’d never heard of Victoria De Angelis from EuroVision winning band Måneskin to do such a thing.” She exclaimed in what was the worst accent Victoria had heard in her life.

(Though, it was endearing, she’d admit.)

“Truly? I was thinking about how to ask you out. If you even wanted me to ask you out, all of that.”

Y/n’s eyes somehow got even bigger, and she laughed, tucking her legs beneath her.

“How is that even a question?” She exclaimed.

“Like I said, you are different on stage from off it. I didn’t know if it was just a front, a performance.”

This time it was Y/n’s turn to roll her eyes and lean in, encapsulating Victoria’s lips with her own.

“It wasn’t just a show, I’d love to go out with you, Vic.”

They both giggled like school girls hidden under the bleachers, leaning in for another kiss. It was hot and heavy, yet slow and sweet. It was everything either girl had hoped for. 

And thanks to a certain Italian doofus, or 4, it would be momentarily put on pause. Mid-make out four loud knocks startled the girls, causing the two do them to pull away.

“Victoria! Daje! Perché non rispondi al telefono, eh? Stiamo aspettando- oh. This makes sense.“ Damiano burst through the door, Ethan and Thomas stood behind him with not-so-surprised looks painted on their faces.

“Realmente? Realmente, Damiano?” She scoffed. “Stai manzo!”

“Sorry, guys. Enjoy yourselves.” He turned over his shoulder to the rest, slowly shutting the door.

“Sicuro di dire che non verranno con noi.” He snickered, as did the others.

“Eccallà!” Ethan remarked, to which, not that Vic and Y/n knew, Thomas shoved him to the side.

Victoria sighed, returning to face Y/n.

“So. Where were we?”

♀~♀~♀

i hope yall liked that!! mwah make sure to reblog if u did <333 take care of urself!

translations 

[seriouslysnape]

Morning Challenge

Remus Lupin x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Smut, Language.

Word Count: 1,682

A/N: This is the second time I’ve reposted this. I cannot get the format right lolz.

“Do you need a hand, baby?”

“Five more minutes?” You begged.

“Baby, I’ve got to go.” Remus replied.

“Please?” You pressed on.

“I can’t, sweetheart.”

He looked down at your pouting face, his heart melting at the way your lower lip stuck out ever so slightly as you looked back at him through pleading eyes. It was early in the morning, around 6:00 or so. Remus usually didn’t get his day started until around 7:30, but today he had some things he wanted to get a head start on.

And you weren’t happy about it.

“Remus,” You whined; “I want you to stay.”

You refused to let him out of your death cling, which consisted of you wrapping yourself around him in a way that meant he’d have to quite literally peel you off of him. He had to admit, you were making it awfully hard to get up and go to work.

“You have work too, you know.” Remus pointed out.

“Never this early. The sun hasn’t even come up yet.” You argued back, burying your face into the crook of his neck.

“It’ll start to in a few minutes.” He announced.

You grumbled, your fingers dancing along his exposed core.

“Can’t you put your grading off for at least today? Isn’t a weekend called a weekend for a reason?” You questioned.

A chuckle escaped his chest, as he peppered kisses along your neck.

“Yeah, something like that,” Remus answered; “I’ve been waiting for a special occasion to take a free Saturday.”

“Today’s a special occasion.” You claimed, shifting a little under the feeling of Remus’ facial hair scratching at your skin.

“Is it?” He acquired.

His lips nipped at certain areas on your neck, smirking at the sounds of your giggles and squirms.

“How often do we get mornings alone together where we don’t really have to be in a hurry to get anywhere?” You wondered.

“Not often. You’re not wrong about that,” Remus replied; “Are you saying I should take today off?”

You shrugged.

“It’d be nice. You and I could stay here all day...” You whispered out, taking your turn kissing his neck and jawline.

He was hesitant to give you a promise if he couldn’t afford a day off from work, even if it WAS a Saturday. Although, staying in bed all day really was tempting. You moved to crawl over on top of him, straddling his waist and continuing to layer him with kisses. Your hips grinded down against his crotch, eliciting a groan from the man. Your fingers wrapped around the waistband on his boxers, yanking them down his legs.

“Angel...don’t start something you can’t finish.” He warned, arousal beginning to flush over him as you removed your shirt from your body exposing your fully naked body to him.

You hummed out seductively, grinning at how he had gotten so hot and bothered by just a few kisses and showing your nakedness to him.

“How about this...” You purred, glancing over out the window and then looking back to Remus being sprawled out underneath you; “If I can make you cum before the sun fully comes up, then you have to take the day off.”

Remus’ hands gripped your waist to keep you from going anywhere, his brown eyes blown with lust.

“You’ve got a deal.” He murmured.

The sun had just started to peek over the horizon, so you didn’t have long before it was fully risen. You rocked your hips, dragging your sex over his dick and teasing your clit with his tip to build up your own arousal. It usually took some foreplay to get you wet and ready for him, but now you were having to put in a little effort to get where you needed to be.

You had to admit, Remus usually had your walls slick and cunt dripping with arousal within no time at all. It had been quite some time since you had to do it yourself. He watched in amusement, your desperate whimpers made his heart flutter as you tried your hardest to get yourself turned on. You were a bit out of practice when it came to self-satisfaction.

“Do you need a hand, baby?” He smirked, a snicker bubbling out of his throat.

You nodded vigorously, your hip rocking beginning to slow.

“Please.” You whined.

He obliged, wasting no time finding your clit with his fingers. You almost jolted off of him in waves of shocking pleasure if it hadn’t been for his hand holding you down. He cycled between different speeds and motions that he knew would have you pooling within only a few seconds. Your eyelashes batted as you rocked into his fingers, his deep voice sounding out.

“Such a pretty girl...” He groaned; “I’m not helping you after this, doll. If you want me to take my day off, you’re going to have to earn it.”

His words resonated with you that the goal was for you to get him to cum. Not the other way around. Although, you had a feeling you might get as lucky. You pulled his hand away just as the ecstasy fog began to cloud your head, letting you know you were good to go.

You lined yourself up and sank down onto him, drawing moans out of both of you. You had fucked him enough that you never really needed to adjust to him, but you always started out rather slow. You rolled pelvis in a slow ride, soaking his cock with your hot arousal and slickness. Remus’ head fell back onto the pillows, his hands trailing over your warm skin. He kneaded and your breasts, playing with your stimulated nipples in a way that sent sparks down your spine.

He reveled in the feeling of you slow riding him. It was secretly his favorite way to have you, despite popular belief. There was a time and place for rough, hard sex. Whereas something more sensual and slower like this was always in order. While he usually enjoyed a long, glacial fuck at the END of the day, he was preferring something a little faster to get the BEGINNING of his day started off right.

“Darling...” He implored, his tone letting you know that he wanted you to speed it up; “You’re not gonna get what you want if you keep that up.”

You nodded, shifting your movements into more of a bounce, and your speed increasing. He stretched and filled your walls perfectly, his tip hitting your g-spot every time you slammed back down onto his lap. The room was getting brighter as the sun crept higher and higher. Your skin was glowing in the warm colors of the sunrise, making you look so beautiful that it almost looked fake. He somewhat kept his original statement, keeping one hand above his head and one strictly on your waist to avoid giving you any assistance.

That didn’t stop him from verbally praising you.

“So fucking good, baby,” He mewled; “You’re such a good girl.”

Your brain couldn’t even string together a coherent sentence. The only noises coming out of you were breathy pitches and moans each time you bounced back down onto him. You were totally focused, having one goal in mind.

You were going to give him the best orgasm of his life.

He was using all of his body force to keep his hips planted on the mattress. He was fighting the urge to fuck up into you with rutted, hard thrusts. You wanted to do this on your own, and by God he was going to let you. He LOVED the feeling of being buried deep inside of you when you sank onto him. He adored filling you and making noises that he didn’t even know were possible come out of you. He didn’t think it was possible, but you started moving even faster, sending blood rushing to his head.

“You’re going to be the death of me, [Y/N].” He said, his voice strained.

“I love you so much,” You huffed, your lungs breathless; “I want to spend every morning like this...”

Remus grunted in agreement, his mind too thick with fog to verbally respond. Truth be told, Remus was trying his hardest not to cum, putting off his release until after your goal time. It wasn’t that he DIDN’T want to cum, but he thought he could tantalize you from work if he caused you to fail at your challenge.

But the way you were rocking, rotating, and wonderfully fucking him, he realized he couldn’t help himself.

His dick twitched inside your throbbing cunt, signaling that he was only a few more moments away from spilling inside of you. A throaty groan erupted from his chest as he came inside of you, filling you with every drop of his release.

Your climax hit you in a flash of white, a strangled cry falling from your lips. You came around him, your movements coming to a stop as your body went limp. You placed your hands on his lower abdomen to steady yourself, your legs trembling from the strenuous movement.

His grip on your waist loosened, and now both of his hands were caressing  softly. You took a few moments to regain yourself, before Remus’ gentle laugh brought you back to reality. You followed his gaze outside the window to see that the sun had just fully appeared above the skyline.

Perfect timing.

“A promise is a promise.” Remus grinned, his chest still heaving.

Your smile was blinding as you popped off of him, falling next to him on the mattress. You had worked him rather hard, and you were sure to give him some loving care. You littered his chest and face with kisses, happy that he was staying in with you today.

“Since you’ll be here all day, we could do that again...and again and again.” You hinted.

Remus’ dark eyes were trained on you, his cheeks flushed at the thought.

“Promise?” He asked.

You caught his lips in a searing kiss before spending all day wrapped up in his presence.

“Promise.”

[apixrl]

DROWSY.

levi ackerman x fem!reader

WARNING(S): none

word count: 3.4k

song: before i close my eyes // xxxtentacion

note(s): soft levi lives in my head rent free and that's perfectly okay he can stay for as long as he wants to

Your hand pressed against your back as you stretched, stifling a yawn that echoed through the hallway. You swore you could hear your joints wailing out in distress, every step feeling as though you were dragging a weight behind you that was five times your size. Your bed was calling out to you in more ways than you could count, the idea of snuggling under the covers absolutely heavenly.

It had been a long and tiresome day, to say the least. After waking up early and in bright spirits, you made the decision to go on a long morning jog. To ready yourself for a presumably easy day. But those words came back to bite you when Captain Levi dropped you and your comrades into an intense training segment that lasted all morning. Then proceeded a heavy clean of headquarters in the afternoon. Ordered to rid the underside of the tables of dust and to clear those sneaky corners of muck that had festered far too long. To put a long story short; you were about ready to drop dead on the floor by the time evening rolled on by.

You loved Levi with all your heart, but unfortunately, your relationship with him didn't come with any bonuses. Yes, you saw a softer side on occasion, but the man never allowed bias to take over during work hours. You were treated the same as the others; a soldier in the ranks. A member of Levi's squad. When you did right you were praised and when you did wrong you served the consequences. Levi would set you on a thirty lap run around the camp perimeter if he saw fit, and there was no getting out of it. As much as you could complain, you knew it was for the best. When it came down to it, Levi was your superior as well as his partner and there had to be some line between the two.

Plodding along the hallway, your bedroom door up ahead was your saviour. You could practically taste the sweet rest waiting for you on the other side. Though just before you could reach your salvation, a voice from the neighbouring room stopped you in your step and tore you away from it.

"Y/N,"

Levi.

It would be lying to say you didn't whimper, so close to a good night's sleep yet so far all in one go. But you weren't so selfish that you'd ignore your lover's call because you were simply exhausted. Yes, you considered it... but resisting the urge gave you credibility, right?

Regardless, you exhaled a sigh knowing it would be wrong not to respond. That man you called your partner had ears like a cat anyway. He probably heard you make your way down the hall or noticed your shadow under the door and had sensed your halt upon his call. So dragging your eyes away from the vision of your wonderfully made bed (Levi having been the one to tuck the sheets in that morning since he was the last one up. So no wonder you were fantasizing at the idea of collapsing on there) behind the door of your room, you set your gaze on the door to Levi's office instead.

You realised it was open just a tad, explaining Levi sensing your approach so easily. Pressing your hands against the wooden frame, you pushed it open and popped your head around the door, forcing your eyes open no matter how much they pleaded to close against the candlelight.

As expected, Levi was seated at the chair of his desk. Neck-deep in papers that he'd been working on most of the night. One shorter pile to the left and a taller one to the right - one pile waiting to be looked at whilst the other sat completed. You wondered which one that was... and prayed for Levi's sake it was the tallest pile to allow him a good night's sleep.

His greyed eyes didn't look up upon your entry, something you just managed to notice through the strands of wispy black locks atop Levi's head. That seemed to indicate he was focused on the task at hand, especially from the way his hand efficiently worked at the pieces of paper like it was on autopilot.

"Yes, love?" You asked, resting against the door for a brief moment as your tiredness caught up with you. If you had reacted to it a second later you believed you would have tipped over from loss of balance, and you were relieved when Levi spoke up once more - his voice jolting you upright.

"I need you to take some papers down to the Commander for me," Levi stated, a certain tone in his voice indicating his own form of tiredness. But you knew that rarely stopped him and his work, the man willing to stay up until the early hours of the morning just to get it finished.

His words made your body panic, unsure if it could muster a journey all the way to Erwin's whereabouts. You had barely walked up the stairs of headquarters well, let alone travelling back down them and then all the way back up again.

"It can't wait until tomorrow?" You tried, chewing the inside of your cheek gingerly. From the way Levi glanced over his wad of papers, grey eyes filled with doubt, you knew it was a longshot. "It's just late, that's all. You need to rest,"

"No," Levi ceased all action, slouching down in his seat briefly as his fingertips held the bridge of his nose. His version of a short break and a way to bury his annoyance down. It appeared to be one of those nights, where he was swamped with work and didn't have the opportunity to simply 'head to bed'. "I'm still nowhere near done, and I don't have the time to take the ones I've already looked at to Erwin because of that," It was there his hand propped up, elbow resting on his other which has splayed over his chest. He motioned you over, eyes skipping between you and the seat opposite him until you got the message.

You were delayed in realising, feeling guilty at your inability to proceed Levi's words. You heard them, but fatigue seemed to seize hold and throw them out the window before your brain could comprehend the meaning. You hoisted yourself off of the doorframe, letting the hinges squeak the door shut behind you as you made your way to Levi's desk. You then sat yourself down, hands pressed to the chair arms as your attention steered to your partner.

"Okay... so which pile am I taking?" Was your question, forcing a small smile to at least seem interested. The black-haired man straightened up, eyes skimming over the papers on his desk and seemingly on the floor too. That made your brow raise, head tilting to the side ever so slightly in wonder. What was behind the desk?

Levi proceeded to push his chair back with his feet, his head quickly disappearing under the table as if to grab something. You rested your cheek in your palm as you waited, a hint of a frown as you waited. Your assumptions were correct as, after a few seconds of scuffling around, Levi reappeared from under the desk - standing up to place yet another pile of paper wherever his desk had the space to hold it.

"This one," He addressed, exhaling heavily once he was comfortable in his seat again. Just when you thought that was it, Levi pushed the taller pile of papers forward as well, and it would be wrong to say you were joyful of the sight. In fact, you were very much dismayed, the sight of the multiple piles of papers meaning more than one trip.

Suddenly you wished the shorter pile was the finished one.

"And this one," Levi spoke with little character as per usual, gazing upon the piles of papers like they were nothing more than a pile of dirt. Clearly, he had experienced little joy going through them, but work never got done whilst complaining. The only words ringing in his mind to convince Levi to get his head down and focus. "You'll probably need to take two trips,"

"You don't say," You commented and sighed to yourself. For hours you had awaited your mattress and now look at you, even further away from reaching it as before. It was a big shame you woke up in such an energetic mood and was ending the day feeling like you couldn't lift a finger. "And if I cant find Commander Erwin?"

"He should be in his office," Levi returned. "But if not, place the right pile on his desk," He then gestured to the left, hand pressing on top for emphasis. "This one will need sorting, however. Just separate the tags in the stack and the drawer they belong in is on there. It shouldn't take you too long, just make sure the files are in the right place or Erwin won't be pleased. Oh, and try not to drop them, please? I'd rather not lose four hours worth of work because of your two left feet -," Levi was cut short by a sound he was not at all expecting. A snorting noise caught him off guard, but when he looked up at you in question the answers quickly came pouring in.

It appeared in Levi's ramble you had grown bored. As there you were, head lolling forwards as your arm tried to prop it up, eyes closed and snoring away to your heart's content. Levi quirked a brow at your behaviour, then scoffed lightly. The man couldn't say he was surprised, of course you would nod off to sleep exactly when he needed your help. At a time where he was swamped with things to do and an extra pair of hands wouldn't hurt.

"Y/N," He tried after a minute or so passed, Levi frowning at the lack of response. If anything, the snoring grew louder. It was there he tried again, a little more firmly and loudly but still, nothing.

Typical.

Levi sat there in silence and disbelief, watching your frame rise and fall with each intake of breath. Meanwhile, you simply slept on without a care in the world, but it's not like he could leave you there. Leaving you sleeping in such a way was bound to cause a nasty neck and backache the following morning. So with a sigh, Levi hoisted himself out of his chair and walked around his desk to your side. Then he knelt down to your level, hand landing on your shoulder to give you a gentle but firm shake.

"Y/N," Levi spoke, a little softer this time, all whilst trying to nudge you awake. It appeared you had only lightly nodded off, as, after three or four shakes, you stirred out of your little nap. Your eyes shot open to meet Levi's observing you closely, a hint of a frown to his face as he did. In your state you barely noticed though, too busy trying to shake off your drowsiness but failing miserably as your eyes merely drooped more.

"Levi?" You mumbled tiredly, lifting your gaze towards your lover, puzzled over why he was so close to you. "What is it?"

"You fell asleep," Levi said with hesitancy, glancing away from you for a second before he continued. "Is everything alright?"

"Hm? Yes... everything's fine," You reassured, sending him a reassuring smile. Levi narrowed his gaze, prompting you to keep going. "It's just been a long day, that's all,"

"I see," Levi nodded, noticing your lack of attentiveness and sleepy demeanour. All of which you tried to force back through your smile. But Levi knew you better than that. He could see straight through the façade just how you could see straight through his, acting as though you were fine when it was truly quite the opposite. That was enough for Levi to suspect something was up, and that little switch in his head that differed between his role as Captain and partner flipped in an instant.

"Sorry... y-you were saying something before I dropped off weren't you?" You asked and pointed to the papers on the table. "Something about them?"

Levi turned to look at where you gestured, seeing the papers that still needed taking to Erwin. He contemplated still asking for your help, but it was obvious from just the way you looked alone that you were long desperate for rest. So exhaling a small sigh, Levi reluctantly cast his gaze back onto you and shook his head.

"No, don't worry about it," He allowed his hand to leave your shoulder and moved it to your face. Where he tucked a few loose strands of your H/C hair behind your ear, continuing. "It can wait until tomorrow,"

"Are you sure?" You asked through a yawn, leaning into the hand that Levi proceeded to support your cheek with. The subtle graze of his thumb over your cheekbone relaxing you to the point sleep nearly stole you from him once more.

As much as he disliked tampering with his organised routine, Levi knew sending you on errands whilst so tired would do you no good the next day. Perhaps he had pushed you a little far without realising, the thought running through his mind later on in the morning. You'd been lagging behind your comrades more than usual. Much opposing to you typically being at the front of the group and urging them on over the other way around. Whilst it wasn't as obvious in the afternoon, the strain in your expression as you scrubbed the floors and countertops had peeked its way through to him. Levi knew you in and out, and the frustration displayed ran much deeper than that of germs and bacteria. That was blatant now more than ever, so the least you deserved was a good night's rest. Just because he could run on little hours of sleep didn't mean you could.

"Yeah," Levi admired you under the dim light of his office after he spoke. Your inattentive gaze somehow continued to hold such focus as you looked back at him. The way you smiled with such love and yearn. How your cheek felt warm in his palm like he was holding the entire world. Which he was really. He was holding his entire world.

"Oh... okay," You said and your eyes drooped shut, not reopening. That brought Levi to act, blinking out of his daze and pulling himself to his feet with a sharp inhale.

"Come on, let's get you to bed," He said and slipped his arms around you, lifting you into their secure hold. You didn't protest, too tired to make a sound as you adjusted to the new position. A comfier position that ensured security and safety. One hand supported your back as Levi's bicep acted as your pillow and his spare arm hooked under your legs. You could feel the ever so gentle thump of Levi's heartbeat close to your ear, much opposing to his regular temperament - curt and firm and even quite harsh at the most.

Levi carried you out of his office, using his foot to open the door as he proceeded to venture down the hall to your shared bedroom. The place you had been going to before you were called to his aid. You kept your eyes closed the entire time but didn't nod off just yet, the bobbing motion of Levi's walk both drifting and stirring you from sleep. It wasn't long before Levi was pulling back the sheets whilst he only just managed to hold you with one arm. You made it easier by wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, giggling lightly to yourself when you almost slipped. Somewhere in Levi's silence, he found it amusing. Perhaps not verbally placed, but you sensed it nonetheless. Still, he downplayed it with concern, his hand pressing against your back to hold you closely against his frame.

He placed you down with care, hand only leaving your back once it rested on the mattress. Sliding it out, it returned to the sheets as he placed them back over you. Meanwhile, you watched through half-lidded eyes, following where Levi's gaze trailed. Mainly sticking to the sheets he tucked in for you out of the goodness of his heart, though flickered back to you on occasion. His eyes contained a warmth that opposed their normal grey colour. A warmth that he usually failed to place into the spoken word and resorted to showing it rather than saying it.

Eventually, Levi finished, his hands stopping their skilful movement and pressing into the pillow on either side of your head. He was silent for a moment, observing your tiresome state and realising just how fatigued he was too. He battled the urge to collapse on the bed beside you, pull you into his arms and fall fast asleep. To ignore his duties for just one night. Give himself a treat and spend the night snoozing away like the everyday citizen. But Levi knew that was irresponsible. He had been irresponsible enough leaving the paperwork so late. It also wasn't the life he had been fated to lead, regardless of how pleasant the idea may be in the subconscious of his mind.

"I still have a lot of work to do," He uttered no louder than a whisper, exhaling deeply in an apologetic sigh and hating the idea of traipsing back to his office to work. "I'll have to join you later but I'm guessing you'll be asleep,"

"It's okay," You hummed, head tilting to the side as an innocent smile formed on your face. "Do I get a kiss good night, at least?"

Levi couldn't fight the small chuckle that escaped him, head proceeding to hang forwards and shake too and fro at your words. He truly felt he didn't deserve you and the love you gave him. Always so understanding, never complaining about his packed work schedule. How you made him feel steady and kept him sane. Perhaps it was because you were a soldier too and knew how time-consuming the job was, but Levi was grateful for all of it. The man met your eyes, a certain radiance in them that he'd refrain from showing to anyone else other than you.

"You're twenty-nine years old and you act like a child," He remarked with no ill intent, the laugh that elicited from you music to his ears.

"Yeah, and you chose to -," You were cut off, Levi leaning forwards to press his lips to yours in a tender kiss. You hummed in approval, forgetting the words you planned to say and instead enjoyed the display of affection. Levi lingered longer than usual, an indirect apology for the fact he had to leave you with the bed half cold. You didn't question it, knowing Levi's work never truly stopped and granted him a break. The fact he'd even paused just to tuck you in comfortably was enough to satisfy your needs, whether Levi would believe that or not was up to him. But your eyes fell closed, both from bliss and sleep catching up to claim control.

Gradually your lips loosened on Levi's, indicating you had nodded off. He opened his eyes and pulled back in question, watching your head tilt faintly to the side as your pillow held its weight. Levi exhaled deeply, leaning down to plant one final kiss on your forehead. Then he hoisted himself off of the bed and walked to the door.

"Good night, Y/N," He said once there, glancing back at you one final time. From where he stood, you appeared merrily at peace. Finally grateful for the embrace of your bedsheets after a dragging day of nonstop training. Levi did feel somewhat bad for being a cause for your tiredness, knowing that he could sometimes be cruel when playing his 'Captain' role. But he couldn't favour you just because of his feelings, and the fact you rarely made that an issue provided him relief like no other. Still, Levi's guilt asserted as he closed the bedroom door quietly behind him.

Why... it wouldn't be terrible if he let you sleep in a little bit past the wake-up call, would it?