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adragonprinceswhore · 1 month

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Rumours

Aemond Targaryen x (Ex)wife

Chapter I: The Chain 🎼 Masterlist

Summary: Three months after leaving him, your inevitable reunion with your soon-to-be ex-husband Aemond isn’t as bad as you thought it’d be.

Warnings: 18+, AFAB reader, she/her pronouns, angst, toxic relationship dynamic, possessive Aemond, depictions of anxiety, allusions to smut

Word count: 3000

A/N: Edited and done, please enjoy 🩵 Thank you my love @theoneeyedprince for giving this a look-through for me 🫶

Breathe.

In. Hold three seconds. Out. Hold three seconds. In. Hold three seconds. Out.

You haven’t been able to eat anything all morning, far too nauseous to keep even a piece of toast down.

The breathing exercise your therapist had taught you does little to help you calm down.

You’ve felt anxious before, but rarely this intense.

It’s so physical.

You feel it in your stomach turning, chest contracting, hands tingling, head spinning.

You knew you’d have to meet him sooner or later.

Afterall, you’d both decided to stay in the band. You’d just started to gain traction, embarking on your first ever tour across the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros.

A once in a lifetime opportunity for an up-and-coming band.

Still, knowing that didn’t make it easier to turn the handle of the door and walk into the studio.

Knowing he’ll be there.

You hadn’t seen your husband, Aemond, in over three months now.

Soon to be ex-husband.

You’d honestly expected the process to be speedier; you hadn’t demanded anything from him, the only thing important to you was that you kept all legal rights you had in relation to the band; the rights to your songs. And he hadn’t really given any conditions himself, yet his solicitors took ages contacting yours.

That’s all you’d heard from him over the summer. Updates from your legal advisers about his.

You’d blocked his number after leaving the divorce papers at your shared flat and moved out, tired of your phone overheating from the amount of times he’d tried calling you.

In the end, Alicent, your mother-in-law, had phoned you, begging you to please meet with her son and talk it out. You told her that you’d already talked plenty and there was no point in continuing indulging in pointless discussion. You’d always gotten along well with Alicent, so having her call you to do her son’s bidding felt so unbelievably awkward. He’d always been such a mama’s boy.

With one final, shaky exhale, you turn the handle of the door and push it open, stepping into the hallway.

With the door ajar, you can hear chatter from the studio.

Everyone’s already here.

Good, then you’d just have to suck it up and face them. Like ripping off a band-aid; only painful for a second.

You spot Helaena first. She gives you a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes, and straightens up slightly.

You’d met her a few times in the last months; brainstorming song ideas and recording vocals together in the studio.

Besides playing the piano, she wrote songs and sang for the band, just like you and Aemond. She hadn’t asked you anything about him, which you were thankful for. You know she’s anxious about how the dynamic in the band will shift now that the two of you have separated. And her anxiety materialises in the way she starts picking at her nail beds as soon as she sees you emerge through the door.

Next to Helaena sits Jace, who plays bass for the band. He gives you a half-hearted smile, accompanied by tense shoulders and a murmured greeting.

Across the table from him is Erryk, drummer and the newest addition to the band. He seems to not sense the tension that hangs heavy in the room and smiles at you until his eyes crinkle.

His obliviousness almost makes you laugh. It nearly manages to cut through the uncomfortable tension, until your eyes travel to lock with the last person in the room.

You knew that Aemond wouldn’t cause a scene and act infuriatingly indifferent towards you.

You knew that he’d give you a nod and get straight down to business.

Still, you feel a sliver of satisfaction when your predictions turn out to be true.

“So, everyone’s done with recording their parts?”, he asks the room.

He’s already pulled out his laptop, quick fingers typing as he waits for confirmation.

Though the tense atmosphere never really leaves the room, you all collectively try to power through as you discuss how recording went and what else needs to be fixed before the album is ready.

Due to your and Aemond’s separation, and the tumultuous events leading up to it, the band had agreed that everyone would record their vocals and instruments separately; putting everything together in production later. This had slowed down the process significantly, resulting in you being far from done with the album your label wanted you to release at the end of the month.

“As you know, the label isn’t too pleased with the fact that we haven’t finished the album yet-”, Aemond says, eyes still on the screen of his laptop; both his seeing eye and the unmoving one covered by a layer of white mist,

“-But they’ve asked us if we’d be willing to perform some new songs during the tour, to boost sales and get the hype up”

His voice is stoic, every utterance straight to the point. You sit on his blind side, with Helaena between your chair and his, and you take the opportunity of knowing he can’t clearly see you to examine him, searching for any changes since you last laid eyes on him, when his knuckles were bloody and panic reflected in his lilac eye.

He looks exactly like he always does; infuriatingly handsome.

His long, silvery hair hangs loose over his shoulders. His long eyelashes cast down as he inspects the screen of his laptop. His aquiline nose slopes beautifully to meet his perfectly pouty lips, begging to be kissed-

Fuck, stop!

Truth be told, you’d put extra effort into looking your best today, spending an hour on doing your makeup and picking out the perfect outfit. Hopefully you’d succeeded in making it appear much less intentional than it was, suddenly feeling a flash of embarrassment wash over you.

Why do you care what he thinks anymore?

The meeting goes on for another hour. The band’s manager, Tyland Lannister, joins in after 20 minutes, briefing the band members on the upcoming tour. Opening night’s in one week, on Dragonstone, and you’ll all fly out the morning of the show.

As the members of the band prepare to leave the studio, the tension that had previously felt so crushing is now only lingering in the periphery.

Jace and Erryk talk excitedly about all the places they’ll visit during the tour; what they wanted to eat and what they wanted to see. For a second it almost feels like things are back to normal, like the last three months never happened.

As everyone makes their separate ways home, you spot Aemond walk up to a black car and quickly jump in the passenger seat.

Your stomach turns.

You only see a flash of her black hair before the car drives away. The mask of indifference you’d put on cracks slightly at the sight of them together.

You wanted the divorce, idiot.

It still hurts seeing him move on though. He’d done it so quickly; uncharacteristically so.

The first week after you’d left, he blew up your phone trying to get a hold of you.

Despite his inexcusable behaviour, there had been times when you felt guilty for leaving him so abruptly. Even though you knew he deserved it, you also knew that leaving him and refusing to talk to him would drive him insane. What you hadn’t expected was that he’d go and get a new girl a mere week after Alicent had called you.

Seeing them together in real life made you feel exactly as you did when your friend Alysanne had sent you the link to the 30 second video two and a half months ago.

Nauseous.

The video showed Aemond getting out of a taxi in front of a new and chic Braavosi bistro downtown. It was opening night and a few local news sources were there to report. One of the journalists had recognised Aemond, clearly intrigued by the fact that the still-married bandman rounded the taxi and offered his hand to a beautiful dark-haired woman stepping out. As they walked towards the entrance, the reporter chased them down, microphone in hand and cameraman in tow.

“Aemond Targaryen? Already moving on after the separation I see?”, the reporter half-shouts behind Aemond to get his attention.

His date turns around in response to the comment, smiling as her emerald gaze observes the reporter. The news of your separation had been speculated on a few minor fansites after someone leaked an email from your solicitor's office, but neither you nor Aemond had made any statement about it.

He wasn’t planning on giving one now either, unimpressed eye giving the reporter a once-over before huffing in amusement and gesturing for his date to follow him inside.

The reporter, set on getting an answer from the rising star, chuckles before forcefully shoving the microphone in Aemond’s face,

“Women come and go, is that the case?”, he presses with a cheeky wink.

Aemond huffs out a laugh, “Yeah, something like that”, he says, wrapping his arm around his date’s shoulders as he leads her into the restaurant.

You’d later learn that the date from that night was his new manager, Alys Rivers.

Funny how he’d gotten a manager to handle his possible solo work.

Six months prior, when you’d been approached by a talent scout asking if you’d ever thought of doing solo stuff on the side, Aemond had been absolutely livid. After giving the agent a few well-chosen words, he had stormed off, leaving you upset and confused.

It was ultimately his jealousy and possessiveness that broke your marriage, getting to a point where you felt like you couldn’t be with him any longer. Neither as a lover nor a friend.

Now, the only place he can take in your life is as your bandmate; business partner, and nothing more.

You’d seriously considered leaving the band when you decided on leaving him. Still, somewhere deep inside you can’t shake this feeling that what your band has is something unique; something you won’t find anywhere else.

You and Aemond had started the band with Helaena right around the time you’d first met.

The three of you quickly bonded over your shared vision of what kind of music you’d like to make. On top of that, your voices sounded so good together, Aemond providing structure with his precision while you focused on conveying raw emotions.

So you decided to stick it out, work with your ex-husband in order to make the music that you wanted.

You’re an artist. All artists suffered for their art, right? You’d just have to suck this up and get on with it; continue to create art. And the pain would be worth it.

Besides, truth be told, you’d never met anyone quite as talented as Aemond. You’d never met anyone else who understood the music you wanted to create quite like he did.

When it came to music, you two almost had a telepathic connection. As someone who relies a lot on intuition and ‘that feeling in your gut’, you found it hard to describe music and your visions for it in general. But with Aemond you never needed to; he understood. Two minds wired the same.

Unfortunately, that wordless communication only stretched as far as music.

You think back to one of the last conversations you had before you left him.

You’d tried to confront him about his temper and inability to keep his jealousy in check, and he’d promptly ignored you; defaulting into shutting you out.

Exhausted, you resorted to the only solution you could come up with.

“Maybe we should spend some time apart, let things cool down a bit”, you try, purposefully making your voice as gentle as possible.

Aemond, who’d been staring out the window of your apartment in contemplative rage, quickly turns to face you, expression impassive but one eye furious.

“If you want some ‘time apart’ you might as well get on with it and leave”, he says, voice chilly. Sometimes when he’s angry, he sounds so hateful it hurts your heart.

“What do you want me to do Aemond?”, you reply, patience running thin as anger overcomes you, “You don’t allow me to live my life, you hinder any chance of growth I have-”,

“Growth!? What else do you need?”, he spits back. “Do you understand what it means to be married to someone? I do fucking everything for you, you’re my wife!”

“Sure, chain me to our marriage. Keep me shackled to you forever, that’s what you want, isn’t it? While you fuck around town, relishing in the freedom you never allow me”

Your agitated voice matches his. You know your words will hurt him.

Aemond exhales loudly. His jaw’s shut tight and misty gaze piercing. He has a tendency to shut down during fights, especially when he doesn't have a snide remark waiting at the back of his mind.

Aemond’s eyes, locking yours in a death stare, narrow,

“So you want out?”

The flight to Dragonstone goes by in a flash, and after a quick soundcheck at the venue, the five members of Dragon Dreamers start getting ready for the show.

You and Helaena do your usual routine of getting ready together, checking each other’s makeup and hair.

As the venue starts to fill up, the band gathers backstage, quickly running through your set one last time. You try to shoot a covert glance at Aemond, but he immediately finds your eyes. As always, he looks impeccable.

“Since we’ve finished ‘The Chain’ in production, I suggest we play that as our opening number tonight. It’s fast-paced and will get the crowd moving”, Aemond states, looking at his bandmates for approval.

They all nod knowingly, catching you by surprise.

“I’m not sure I’m familiar with ‘The Chain’”, you say, trying to sound neutral though you suspect he chose a song you don’t know on purpose.

“It’s the one you did some backup vocals on in the studio”, Aemond replies, throwing you a quick look, “Me and Helaena can sing the verses and you can join in during the chorus”, he offers, moving to pick up his guitar, signalling that he’s done with the conversation.

Great, first song on opening night and you’ll stand there like a deer in headlights.

You sigh quietly and grab your tambourine. If you’re not going to sing you’ll at least try to join in by jamming a bit to the beat. Only one thing echoes in your mind,

Don’t let him get to you!

‘The Chain’ starts playing. Steady drums beat in a slow rhythm as Aemond plays a bluesy melody on his guitar, and you realise that it is one of the songs that you and he had worked on when you were still together.

Last time you heard it, you had worked out the melody, but not really pinned down the lyrics. Aemond must’ve taken it upon himself to finish it, completely steering away from the direction you thought the song would take.

‘Listen to the wind blow, watch the sun rise’

Why haven't you heard anything about this new edit?

A chill runs down your spine.

Has he re-written it to be about you?

‘Run in the shadows, damn your love, damn your lies’

Yes he has.

You and Aemond got married at sunrise by the Hightower summer house in Highgarden in June two years ago.

Aemond had proposed to you only five weeks prior, and being so in love that you couldn’t possibly imagine being separated for more than 15 minutes, you decided to tie the knot as quickly as possible.

You just wanted to be his.

That had been one of your fondest memories together; a small ceremony that was only yours.

Now, it leaves a sour taste in your mouth.

Memories rotting from within.

You hate it. You don’t want to think about that now.

Damn him. Damn his love. Damn his lies.

‘And if you don’t love me now, you will never love me again’

‘I can still hear you saying, “you would never break the chain”’

As he sings, he sounds so angry, his voice is almost foreign to you.

He usually tries to keep his emotions in check, even when performing. Probably too scared to be vulnerable enough to let people know he actually has feelings, you reckon.

You remember the song and the rapid pace it picks up. Trying to ignore what you think is Aemond staring at you from the side of the stage, you dance and sing to the song about your heartbreak.

You let the music consume you as you work the tambourine, dancing and spinning, trying to relish in the feeling of knowing your band had made a killer song.

The audience is loving it. You have never heard them this rowdy before, and you can see the entire venue dancing.

You keep going, trying to distract yourself so your gaze won’t travel to Aemond.

He had played a rough first version of the guitar solo he wanted to incorporate in the song for you when you were still together. It really was phenomenal, fitting perfectly with the climax of the song.

He’s an insanely skilled guitarist, never missing a note and always instinctively knowing exactly what melody will match the feel of a song.

The audience is loving it, screaming and dancing with you.

Feeling braver and with the adrenaline from the performance running through your veins, you come up to your mic and sing along with Aemond and Helaena, chanting in unison.

The three of you sound good, like you always do.

The realisation gives you comfort; there’s still hope for your band.

‘Chain, keep us together’

‘Running in the shadows’

You can do this.

A/N: Thank you for reading! 🫶

#aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen imagines #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen #aemond fanfiction #aemond x you #my fics #rumours #Spotify

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alottiegoingon · 4 months

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hc!friends to lovers

natalie scatorccio x fem!reader

summary: going from friends to lovers with nat

warnings: golden retriever gf x black cat gf dynamic, nat is secretly a softie, drugs and mommy/daddy issues mentions, cursing, pure fluff, not proofread

𖧊 to this day, nat still has no idea on how you two became friends. you were too different

𖧊 it started with you complimenting her makeup once and she was so rude cause she thought you were making fun of her

𖧊 “your eyeliner is so pretty,” you tried to be nice just to receive a “fuck off” and a middle finger right to your face. you were flabbergasted! you were just trying to be nice to a pretty blonde girl and now you were her enemy?

𖧊 your huge smile disappeared in seconds and when nat realized you weren’t mocking her, she got desperate. “oh, shit. you were actually serious?”

𖧊 she was constantly being slutshamed and harassed by the mean students and the idea of being complimented by you didn’t even make it to her head

𖧊 you were too sweet for her taste. too smiley, too happy, too soft and too excited. her words, not mine. but damn, you were pretty

𖧊 not that she would ever tell you that, but being friends with you was better than spending her days alone or with the other two guys she had for friends but were nothing but drug buddies

𖧊 “dude, what the fuck is that?” she grunts at the second you show her one of your favorite songs by backstreet boys “it’s so cheesy!”

𖧊 you held her arms and made her dance with you and she was so embarrassed and tried to brush it off by complaining a lot but her eyes didn’t lie. she kinda enjoyed that

𖧊 then, late at night when she’s unable to sleep, she secretly listen to the too happy and annoying shit type of songs you liked just to think of you :(

𖧊 she eventually found herself enjoying the cranberries, spice girls and lots of your catchy pop or soft songs while doing chores and would never forgive herself for that

𖧊 at first, nat was easily annoyed by you. by your overwhelming enthusiasm and positivity and how you would always see the good in others even if they didn’t deserve

𖧊 however, that didn’t mean you wouldn’t speak up for her. if anyone was caught talking shit about nat, you were always the first one to have her back. “excuse me? hi. that’s my friend you are talking about and you might wanna apologize to her right now!”

𖧊 bless your heart you really tried to be scary like her. at least the intention was there right

𖧊 “i don’t need you to defend me,” she was already snarling at you but you could see in her eyes that she didn’t mean that. she just didn’t like being vulnerable in front of others

𖧊 nat was tough, she could take care of herself. you knew that but you couldn’t let anyone be mean to her

𖧊 “i know, but i care about you!” “yeah, whatever 🙄🙂”

𖧊 and it worked the other way around as well. a single threatening glance of nat was enough to make anyone scared of even saying your name. yes, you were a pain in her ass but she was the only one who could say that

𖧊 “but you just said she was annoying,” her friend kevin defends himself from her scary look. “don’t call her that, asshole”

𖧊 nat couldn’t invite you over to her house trailer so you would usually hang out at your house or secret places she knew

𖧊 nat is a really lonely and independent person and that’s a consequence of her unstable childhood. running away from the mess she had for parents, she eventually discovered a nice small park with pretty trees around and thought it would be the perfect hiding spot

𖧊 smoking with nat? obviously a must. you would give her the old speech saying that it was terrible for her physical and mental health (🤓☝️) even if you were 100% sure that she wasn't listening and was just giving you ironic commments. "you don't say, princess"

𖧊 deep down, very deep down, she appreciated you

𖧊 “kevin told me he caught you listening to backstreet boys yesterday” you smile at her, watching her messy bleached hair cover half of her face as she smokes

𖧊 “fucking kevin,” she mutters under her breath and it’s the perfect opportunity to play around with her. “aren’t you gonna deny it? wow, you must really like me, nat”

𖧊 “shut up, princess.”

𖧊 it was meant to be ironic but since the first time she called you that, you two were sure that it was nothing but a caring nickname and you were a complete sucker for it

𖧊 spending time together became a casual thing and as essential as breathing. that didn’t go unnoticed

𖧊 showing up to support her on a game day or just practice, holding a big sign with her name written with gliter gel pens and smiley faces and cheering so loud that people near you had to cover their ears

𖧊 thanks to that, she was so flustered that couldn't focus on the actual game

𖧊 classically, the yellowjackets would always make fun of her when you were around but especially when you weren’t. “are you happy that your girlfriend came to see you today?” van teases nat and suddenly she became their favorite subject to talk about

𖧊 “she’s not my fucking girlfriend!” she flips them off and storms off to hide how unbelievably red her cheeks were

𖧊 nat didn't take long to realize she felt different about you. but her doing your eyeliner to match her after you insisted didn't help. it was pretty hard to mantain her toughness when you were lying in bed with her on top, straddling you with face so close that you could smell the blunt in her breath

𖧊 "thanks, nat. what do you think?" you ask when she's done

𖧊 "not bad. thanks to me, obviously," she acts casually but she's like 🧍🏼‍♀️😊😮‍💨😵 seeing you with her goth ass makeup

𖧊 being jealous of you near anyone who would say hi to you was also a clear sign

𖧊 going from friends to lovers with nat would be something hard for her at first. she isn't used to trusting people that much. loving someone? what was she thinking?!

𖧊 this means that she would definitely push you away, intentionally or not, and would act weird for days until you finally confronted her

𖧊 and she tries to be rude to make you leave but it doesn’t work. eventually she opens up about her feelings, shaking and at the verge of tears, and you hug her tightly

𖧊 “i like you too, nat”

𖧊 holds your chin when kissing you 😵‍💫

𖧊 jealous girlfriend that was always there to keep an eye on you but wouldn’t say the words “i’m jealous” even if her life depended on it

𖧊 dating nat meant her having part time jobs to save money for weeks just to buy you something nice for your birthday or to take you to a special place in a special occasion. you cried like a baby

𖧊 you were aware that she struggled with money and you weren't rich either, so you kept things discreet. you would come to her with a tape with lots of songs that reminded you of her, "nat, you won't believe what i made you!"

𖧊 “i have no idea, baby..." but she definitely did cause you would do that at least twice a month

𖧊 she would be the first one to say “i love you” accidentally and got so stressed trying to fix her mistake with a cough but you had heard her and was freaking out, smile from ear to ear

𖧊 “you’re a moron, i love you” it took her five seconds to go from 😁 to 😧

𖧊 “i love you too.”

𖧊 when it comes to affection, i feel like she would be hesitant at first, not knowing what to do. having sex with random people was really different from wanting to show her love for you, it was harder

𖧊 realistically, nat wouldn't be the touchy type. she never really experienced affection from her parents (at least not in a long time), so it would be something new, but wouldn't be opposed to it once she realized how comforting it felt

𖧊 100% touch starved. you stroke her cheek once and she's tearing up already

𖧊 pretends to be bothered but always melts completely when you kiss her and loves to hold hands and intertwine fingers

𖧊 not everything was perfect and sharing feelings wasn’t easy for her. either way, you were always there for her, listening to her talk about her shitty parents or just comforting her after a bad day

BONUS!!!

𖧊 if the iconic barbie movie was released in the 90s, you would BEG her to wear pink clothes to go to the movies together and she would deny it every single time

𖧊 “but it would be so cute! we would match 🥺” you insisted, knowing that she was so close to cave in

𖧊 “it’s gonna make me look stupid, i don’t wear pink. quit it, princess,” nat nods, convinced that you would eventually forget about it

𖧊 a week later, nat is found at the movie theater looking like a damn flamingo

𖧊 “what happened to you? met an unicorn on the way here?” shauna mocks her as soon as she sees the blondie wearing a bright pink suit and black boots, matching your same color dress

𖧊 “shut up,” she gives them her middle finger

𖧊 “happy wife, happy life,” tai murmurs and she just nods, defeated. shauna, tai and van, all in pink thanks to your incessant pleas, followed her to get the tickets while you and jackie were excitedly buying snacks and pink popcorn containers shaped like barbie’s car

𖧊 (she definitely cried at the end and you had to kiss her tears away)

#had a hard time making this not angsty #yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #natalie scatorccio x reader #natalie scatorccio

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endlessthxxghts · 11 months

Text

Take It Easy

no outbreak!neighbor!joel miller x afab!reader || W/C: ≈10.2k

Summary: Your family throws an impromptu barbecue. You’re usually the one they throw every task on, but with today being your most painful period day, you say fuck it and leave them to fend for themselves. Only one other guest is invited today, and that’s Joel Miller.

Warnings: Age gap (23/43). Established relationship (to everyone but reader’s family). No physical description of reader besides outfit choices. Use of feminine pet names. LATINO JOEL MILLER (he’s canon in all my fics, sorry not sorry). Fluff with slight angst - getting caught, kinda (?) - happy ending, don’t worry. This version of Joel is always soft for reader, but I feel like he’s extra soft here. These idiots are so fucking in love (highkey jealous). SMUT 18+ MDNI: If you know the traffic light system for safe words, reader uses yellow at one point - but fluff & comfort happens immediately after. Dom/sub and Brat tamer/brat dynamics (subspace!). Daddy kink. Degradation kink (very brief). Making out/body appreciation. Masturbation (F). Oral sex (M receiving). Spit kink (I'm so weak). Exhibitionist kink - reader is being bold 🫣. Face fucking. Vaginal fingering. Lots of kissing (these two definitely have some sort of oral/kiss fixation istg). Soft unprotected p in v. Reader gets a surge of dominance, soooo ya get a glimpse of sub!Joel😏…...I think that's it. Let me know if there’s anything I missed. 🫶🏼

Author's Note: This can be read as a stand-alone, but I accidentally connected this a bit more than I intended to the What You Need fic. That fic talks a lot about reader's background/family dynamic and why/how Joel is the way that he is with reader. There's also some little details in here that might fly over your head if you haven't read What You Need. However, I genuinely don't think any confusion or such will occur if you only read this one shot. I hope you'll be able to enjoy all the same. Much love 💚

MASTERLIST || ONESHOT COLLECTION

“Can you prep the veggies?”

“Can you prep the grill?”

“Can you make the rice?”

“Why don’t I make the entire fucking dinner at this point?” You snap in the direction of the kitchen from your place on the couch, wrapped in blankets, snuggled with a heat pack over your lower belly.

“Well, if you’re offering,” your brother smirks.

You started your period yesterday, and the second day is always the absolute worst. Your flow is heavy, your cramps are excruciating, and your mood is all over the place. Today was not the day for an impromptu barbecue, regardless if there were guests or not.

You promptly give your brother the middle finger then pull yourself off the couch to make your way to the bathroom. You’ve filled up an entire pad, yet again, in less than 20 minutes.

You always do everything for your family, but today, you absolutely don’t give a fuck. Today is self care day for you — popping three painkillers then heading straight to the dark of your room.

You’re not entirely sure how long you fell asleep for, but the smell of charcoal smoke and sizzling steak is what wakes you up first. The next sensation that fills you is the sound of heavy boots walking from, what you assume to be, the back door to the kitchen. Joel. You’d know that walk anywhere. He’s taking on the tasks for your family that usually fall on your shoulders.

He called you this morning before everyone (including you) woke up, saying he’s excited to see you tonight. You grumbled sleepily, about to tell him you were just as excited when a searing pain ruptured in your stomach, causing you to gasp out in pain.

“Baby?” Joel called out, “What’s wrong, honey?”

“Fuck, sorry, baby, it’s nothing,” you shyly say. He says your name. You start to explain, “I started my period yesterday, and-” but Joel cuts you off. “The second day is always the worst,” he states factually.

You smile to yourself, “Yeah, exactly.”

He tells you to get up and get a glass of water and some medicine to ease the pain, which you do, then he tells you to let yourself sleep in today, which you don’t.

“Fine,” he relents at your stubbornness, “but at least take it easy today, darlin’, ya hear me?”

“Loud and clear, Miller, loud and clear,” you tell him.

You can feel his dumb fucking lopsided smirk through the phone, “Fuckin’ brat,” he snarls.

“Mhm, but you’re fuckin’ brat,” you correct him.

“Yes. Mine.”

“Mmmm,” you let out a soft moan at that. Mine. You love the way it sounds, the way he claims you. “I love you.”

His cock twitches at the sound you make, but he wills it stay down. He takes a breath before he responds, “I love you, baby.” He can’t get ahead of himself today. He needs you to take it easy. So he tells you exactly that, again, for the last time before he ends the call and lets you take on your tasks for the day.

Even though the mouth-watering scent of all the delicious food has completely pulled you awake, you stay in bed a little longer, basking in the sensation of absolute no cramping in the position you’re in. And as if on cue, Joel quietly knocks on your door, waiting for you to invite him in.

“Come in,” your voice cracks, still groggy from the hours of no speaking.

He enters softly, clad in that denim button up you love so much paired with some dark washed jeans. “Hi, darlin’,” he makes his way to place a soft kiss to your forehead, your nose, then a longer one to your lips. “How you feelin’?”

“Better now,” you coo, completely enamored by how soft your big, burly man can be. “Food smells good. You helped them?”

He’s sitting at the side of your bed now, facing you, so he can rest his arm across you. “Only your old man. Carried in the food as he finished puttin’ em in the trays,” he says as he draws little circles on your arms.

You hum in response, too content at his presence. Still unable to use your voice, you tug on his arm, silently asking for him to hold you for just a moment before you eventually need to get up.

“They all left, by the way,” Joel soothes.

You finally have the strength to lift your head up, a quizzical look on your face.

“Your brother needed an herb, your dad s’more charcoal, obviously your mother drove ‘em. I don’t know where your other siblings are, though,” he explains.

“Oh.” You look up at him. “So what you’re saying is,” tugging harder on his arm to pull him into your bed, “you can freely cuddle me until then.”

He chuckles at that, giving into your pull, and wrapping his hand around your jaw to pull you into yet another sweet kiss. He’s laying down next to you now, and you take the opportunity to completely entangle your limbs into his, your head tucked into his neck.

Your family is gone for another forty-five minutes from that point on, and you two spend each minute just completely wrapped into each other, sharing sweet, wet kisses everywhere both of you can reach. His thigh supplying light pressure between yours at your core, spurring you both on just enough but not to the point where you lose all self control.

There’s something about the way you two can touch each other like this. With past partners, they always wanted things to escalate. To undress you and devour you at any sign of affection. But with Joel, it’s natural. Of course, his body will react in ways that show he physically wants more, but truly, he just wants to adore you and appreciate you and love you. And in the moments where those three words aren’t enough, he shows it in the other pure way he knows how to.

You’re too distracted being consumed by Joel’s touch, but as sharp as an eagle, he immediately perks at the sound of your family’s arrival. He slowly pulls away, trying to savor the kiss as much as possible. Finally it breaks, and you immediately pull your bottom lip into your mouth, trying to savor the way he feels and the way he tastes. He gives you a look of pure love and devotion—a look you know is only reserved for you, a look you’ll never get tired of. “Time to get up, darlin’.”

“Ugh,” you whine out, “Okay, I’ll meet you out there. I’m just gonna change, baby.”

He pulls you up out of bed and straight into another chaste kiss, “Want me to make you tea?”

“That sounds lovely, baby,” you blush at his attentiveness. You’ve been spoiled rotten by him for the past year, but you still get so flustered every time. “But I think we’re out of what I normally drink-”

He stops you with yet another kiss. “I bought a box of that peppermint blend before I came.”

You can’t stop the way you absolutely fold for this man, evident in the shaky breath you take and the way you completely stumble on your words, “Y-yeah, o-okay, yes, please.”

He smiles and nods, walking directly to your kitchen without another second to waste.

God, he deserves some fucking head right now, you think to yourself as you quietly giggle.

You make your way to your bathroom, taking a quick body shower because those several hours of sleep, plus the way Joel was on you for 45 minutes, had you looking like a murder scene down there. You dry yourself off, lotion up, and change into some loose black sweats and a fitted, light blue baby tee.

You look a lot brighter after your rest; Joel was right in telling you to sleep in, you needed it. Not that you’d ever tell him. He doesn’t need anymore ego boosts. Ya see, what’d I say, darlin’? you can hear his Texan twang scolding you already.

He looks up from the kettle pot boiling before him to see you perched on the bar stool on the other side of the kitchen island, bright eyed and awake, watching him make your tea. “Thank you again, baby,” you softly say.

He comes around behind you, setting your mug in front of you accompanied with three soft kisses peppered to the area where your shoulder and neck meet. “Of course, my sweet girl. You ready to eat? Everythin’ is set up out back, and everyone is out there, too,” he sighs, “already eatin’.” He says, annoyed at the fact that no one thought to call and check in on you, let you know that the ritual of eating together already started. You’re used to it by now, but seeing his reaction reminds you that it’s not normal for your own family to treat you this way. You smile a little sadly, trying to think of how you want to go about this. Usually you just wouldn’t eat, but with Joel around, you know that’s not going to fly.

“How ‘bout,” he says as he wraps his arms around your waist, his head still resting on your shoulder, “I go out there, make a plate big enough for us both, and I come back in and we share?” He could easily get you your own plate, but he knows your family. They’ll jump at any opportunity to shit talk you when they don’t understand the entire situation. Getting you your own plate and serving you when he’s a guest in your own home could inspire that, and he really doesn’t want you to experience that right now.

You lean into him, turning your head a little to place a kiss to his cheek. “Okay, baby,” you smile, “yes, let’s share.”

He comes back inside to you snuggled on the couch again with a pullout table propped right in front. He snuggles up right beside you, placing your legs right on top of his, keeping you secure with a hand on your thigh.

The plate is filled with a mountain worth of food. You already know three-quarters of that is going down his bottomless pit of a stomach, laughing to yourself at the thought. One thing that wasn’t on the original menu for tonight was on his plate. It also just so happened to be one of your comfort foods whenever you weren’t feeling good. “W-who made the mashed potatoes?”

Joel looks up at you sheepishly. He thought he’d be able to pull it off. He didn’t just go to the store, before he came, for your mint tea. He also went to get the ingredients for the mashed potatoes recipe you love so much. Within the almost two years he’s spent getting to know you, he’s recognized that every single time you’re feeling under the weather or falling into some type of depressive slump, you’re either eating or craving it. “I, uh- When I went to go get your tea… I figured I’d get ya your stuff for this, too. Made it before I came to wake ya up.”

“Joel…” your voice cracks and your eyes tear up.

How is it that after 23 years of life, you’re finally experiencing what it means when someone loves you? And you’re not talking romantic, you’re talking pure, genuine love. Love that you should’ve received from your parents, your siblings. They have never once shown you the consideration of making you your favorite meal, or fixing you a cup of something warm when you’re not feeling well. They have never shown you what it means to appreciate someone, in any of the love languages. The only person that has shown you remotely anything is your mother, but even that is limited because she cowers behind the directives of your father. You see her try, and you feel selfish not to appreciate it. But is it selfish to just want to be wholly loved by the people who created and raised you?

You pull the fork out of his hands and set it back on the plate. And in an instant, you completely throw yourself on him, your arms wrapped around his neck tightly, legs tightly hugged between his own. He loses his balance and lays straight back onto the couch, letting out a grunt at the landing, with you on top of him. You push into him for a kiss, your noses smooshing together as you lick inside his mouth with a sense of urgency to show him how much you love him. Once the initial shock of you pouncing on him wears off, he immediately wraps himself around you, tightening his hold to pull you in impossibly more. His tongue dances with yours, one arm wrapped around your middle and another secure around the bottom of your ass.

You adjust to straddle his hips, sitting up and pulling him up with you by the collar of his denim. You break away from him just for a minute, heavy breathing and eyes dark, and you let your hand glide down his chest, swiftly undoing a few buttons of his shirt, making sure to leave a trail of sloppy, wet kisses as you go. You make your way down to his belt, unbuckling it with such a need that he can’t help but just watch you. You slip the belt out of the loops, letting it fall to the ground, and you’re scooting back more to situate yourself in between the tight space of his legs. You palm him through his jeans, feeling how absolutely hard he is, which elicits a deep groan from the man above you. With that, the button and zipper of his jeans are undone. You bring your hands up back to the hem of his jeans, looking back up at him for his approval.

“Sweet girl, ya know your folks are right outside,” he tries to warn but fails with the way his voice wavers with need.

You look to the back door that’s twenty feet away, curtains completely drawn, and look back at him. “You and I both know none of them are coming back inside for a while,” you raise your eyebrows in defiance.

He is truly at war with himself right now. He could let you do what you want, knowing you get off just as much as he does when you give him head. Or he could situate you back to your original positions and finger a few orgasms out of you, and he just pulls away from you if someone were to walk in — the safer route. Or. The safest option being he bids your folks goodnight and you let them know you’re going out for the night.

Though, the latter would just be too easy. He knows you both revel in the risk, in the act of sneaking around. Which is why he finds himself scooting forward to the edge of the couch, and you take the hint loud and clear. He wants you on your knees for this. He meets your stare once more, both of you sparkling with mischief. “Well? Darlin’? Best get on with it then, huh?” Followed by him lifting his hips slightly so you can tug his clothing down, his tip red and aching.

“Fuck, yes,” you gasp out, “been thinking about this since you left my fuckin’ room, daddy, I want you so bad.”

Your admission spurs him on more, and his eyes go impossibly dark. “Go on, darlin’. Prove it to me. Show me how fuckin’ bad.”

You pull yourself up to stand on your knees for a moment, and murmur a quiet come here to him, urging him to lean in for a second. He pulls closer, stopping an inch away from your face. You open your mouth for him, tongue sticking out and flat. He gets the hint, and before you can even register, his hand is on your jaw, tilting your head back and opening you wider, and he spits.

You use all your self control not to swallow it right here and right now, desperate to feel any kind of warmth from him slide down your throat. You have other plans right now. You close your mouth and let your own spit generate, absolutely giddy with want to please your man. His eyes are fixed on you, knowing your next plan of action, but still stunned all the same at how fucking filthy his sweet girl is. You pull yourself back, hovering your mouth over his erection.

You open your mouth and just let the combination of both of you fall from your mouth, sliding down his cock like the sweetest of syrups that you can’t wait to lick up. As the amount of spit starts to really gather, you grab him by the base and start stroking up and down his length, putting extra emphasis on his tip, running your finger over his slit for good measure. He lets out a stuttered groan at that, and you take that as your queue to finally put him in your mouth. Running your tongue in the same pattern your fingers did his tip, making him hiss in your ability to make him fold at the smallest of touches.

You keep this pace for a good while, using your hand in tandem with your mouth, stroking up and down in the speed and pressure that you know brings him to the edge fast. The sounds coming from your throat mixed with the slick feeling of your hand pumping him has your pussy absolutely dripping for attention. Fuck it. You slide your other hand down into your underwear, and begin to play with your clit, not wanting to go any deeper for fear of getting blood all over the place. Joel wouldn’t mind—of course, he wouldn’t—but you would, so you give yourself just enough to ease the aching need between your legs. Your moans get louder now that you’re touching yourself, your throat adding a delicious vibrating sensation to him.

His eyes were shut at how fucking amazing you’re taking him, but with the sounds you’re making, he can’t help but make sure all his focus is on you. And god damn, when he sees you touching yourself so prettily while you’re being such a good girl making daddy feel so fucking good, he can’t help but cum at the sight. “F-fuck, sweet girl, holy fuckin’ hell,” he breathes, “It turn you on that bad to have my dick in your mouth, huh?”

You pull off of him with a pop, making sure you keep as much of his cum in your mouth as you can—because there’s a fuck ton—and you fix your stare into his dark eyes as you swallow every last bit of him. “So fucking good, daddy, I-” you break off into a moan, your hand that was pumping him now gripping his thigh to maintain your balance as you continue the ministrations on your pussy.

“Cum for me, baby, show me how good it makes you feel to be daddy’s little slut,” he demands. You gasp out at his words, that demand being what really throws you over the edge. Your clit pulses underneath your fingers, you feel yourself gush out, your blood and cum making you feel impossibly messier, and with that, your body goes rigid.

Joel leans forward and grabs onto your jaw, keeping you upright while you come back down from your high. You’re so far gone that you don’t realize he’s peppering your face with kisses, uttering sweet nothings until you’re back with him. He gently pulls your hand from your pants and settles them into your lap.

“I’ve got ya, baby,” he kisses your lips softly.

“My sweet girl,” he kisses your jaw, “I love you,” another kiss at your pulse point below your ear. He feels your body begin to relax.

“Atta girl, baby,” he whispers before reaching down and settling his other arm underneath your legs, positioning himself so he can pick you up in a cradle position. He stands and carries you to your bathroom, settling you on your feet for one moment so he can pull your sweats and underwear off of you. He guides you down onto the toilet, kissing your forehead and muttering a quick one sec, baby before he steps out. He comes back two minutes later, and you’re still in subspace but slightly more grounded, and he kneels down in front of you, instructing you to lift one foot at a time.

He went to go get you a new pair of underwear and some gray sweatpants. He already stuck another pad to your underwear, too. The action fills you with such an overwhelming feeling that you can’t help the tears that roll down your flushed cheeks. He looks up, knowing everything you’re saying and feeling by your gaze alone. He cups your cheeks with both hands, rubs his thumb to wipe the stray tears, and kisses your forehead, your left eye, then your right, your nose, and finally your lips, all in an attempt to seal every ounce of love and adoration he has for you.

“I love you,” you finally say, leaning your forehead against his, and just take a moment with his hands on you. He pulls back again with a kiss to your forehead, and he grabs the wipes on the counter, encouraging you to lean back a bit, so he can clean you properly.

“Wait, no,” you meekly say, trying to grab the wipes from his hands. He knows you get embarrassed at the fact that he sees you a little gross like this, and you know he truly doesn’t care. Usually he relents and lets you do it yourself, but tonight, he’s doing everything for you whether you like it or not. He raises one eyebrow at you, and that’s all you need to bring your arms back down in defeat. You lean yourself back a little, spreading your legs open, and let him clean you up.

When it comes to other activities during your period, you usually are uncomfortable. But with Joel? With him, you don’t mind. You actually love it. It’s in moments like these that remind you how irrevocably in love you are with this man.

Afterwards he stands you up, pulls your bottoms on, and turns you towards the sink and washes your hands for you. He really wasn’t kidding at how easy he wanted you to take today.

He carried you back to the couch and wrapped a fluffy blanket around you. You threw yourself on him in the middle of your guys’ meal, so after he settles you into the couch, he transfers your shared food to a real plate instead of paper and warms everything up. He does the same to your peppermint tea.

After everything is warmed, he settles back onto the couch beside you, pulling your legs up onto his thighs and holding you above your knee to secure your position. You go to reach the fork, but Joel is quick to swat your hand away, taking the fork and feeding you a bite of your mashed potatoes instead.

“I told you,” he scolds, “to take it easy today.”

You frown, “And I have been! You’ve literally been taking care of me since you got here.”

He sets the fork down, reaching for your tea and lifting it up to your mouth. He’s not gonna respond until you take a sip, which was much needed as your belly immediately calms at the heat. You take one more sip as he begins, “You pouncin’ on my fuckin’ dick was not takin’ it easy.”

You cough on the fucking liquid still traveling down your throat. You were not expecting that to come out of his mouth. You try really hard to will yourself not to fucking burst out in laughter because you know how serious he was with this statement. So instead, you settle for your typical smart ass remark. “It wasn’t?” You asked. “Seemed real easy to me,” you add as you take the fork from his hand and take another bite of the yummy food before you. His eyebrow shoots up and you give him a lopsided smirk in return.

“Watch it, sweet girl,” he says as he brings his hand up, thumb and forefinger pinching at your chin to force your eyes into his. He gives you a bruising kiss, one that entices him to bite at your bottom lip as he pulls away. You can feel yourself slipping again. He’s not done with you, he’s just giving you a moment to refuel.

“I’ll be good,” you softly whimper as you chase for his lips. “I’m not so sure about that,” he responds as his grip on your chin gets tighter, forcing you stationary and a few inches too far from where you want him to be. Your eyebrows furrow and your eyes gloss over as you whisper out a small I promise, to which he says, “Don’t worry, darlin’. I’ll make sure of it.”

He lets go of your face completely and continues feeding you, alternating between the food and your tea. As the next bite he prepares for you reaches your mouth, something that has never happened before decided to occur. Your mother comes inside the house, and her first sight as soon as she came in was you, completely wrapped around Joel, and him feeding you.

Your jaw freezes, his grip on your leg tightens out of instinct to protect you, and it’s a staring standoff between the three of you. Joel doesn’t realize he’s still holding the fork up until his hand starts to shake, so he gently sets it down on the plate. It’s you who speaks first. “Mom, I-”

But it’s your mother who wants the first word. The first two words, actually. “How long?”

Your heart is beating out of your chest, and the only thing keeping you from full blown panic is all the ways you’re in physical contact with Joel. “I can explain, mom, I-”

“Flower,” she says to comfort you. She’s not mad? you think. Your heart immediately calms, but now you’re just confused. Growing up, your mother always called you her flower. She used it predominantly when she wanted to help you regulate. You’ve always been full of anxiety and other strong emotions. Flowers are strong and beautiful, and show exactly when they need support. And when they are given the support they need, they flourish. That’s you. You are a flower. Her flower. But now she can see, there’s someone else tending to you. And she is not mad.

“A year and some change,” you softly say. She looks between you two. Then she steps forward. “Look,” she breathes. “I know our family hasn’t been the best in showing love or appreciation. And they obviously haven’t been the best at fending for themselves-”

“Amen to that,” you say, and she chuckles in appreciation. She continues.

“Thank you, by the way. For everything you do around here. We both know none of it would get done around here if it weren’t for you. I try to help you as much as I can, but obviously not enough. If you can pull everyone’s weight around here, which you shouldn’t have been doing in the first place, then I can at least pull my own and whip them into pulling their own, too.”

Your eyes are watering, and you take a deep, shaky breath. Joel feels it. He brings his hand around to rub small circles into your back. You’re so grateful he’s here. “I love you,” you say to your mom.

“I love you, too, flower, but I’m not done. I also know that I’m not too great at using my voice. Defending what’s right. But you’re the one person in this family that’s given me the inspiration to fight for what I believe in. You give me strength, and constantly seeing this family pull you down lower and lower as the years go by breaks me. All I’ve ever wanted was for you to be happy.”

Tears begin to fall, both on your face and your mom’s.

“And in this last year, and some change, to be exact,” she smiles as she recalls your answer from earlier, “you have been the most vibrant flower of the entire garden. In the gloominess of this house, you continue to grow, and I’ve been dying to understand what changed. And now I see why. And I have never been more grateful for another human—the first one being you—until he entered your life.”

You and Joel both look at each other, his eyes have a hint of gloss to them now, too.

“So,” your mother says as she reaches for the tissue box on the counter and walks back to hand you the box. “I won’t tell a soul. It’s not my story to share. And remember. I will always have your back. Always. I’m sorry I didn’t make you feel comfortable enough to tell me about such a beautiful relationship, but we’re here now and I need you to know that I will forever support what makes my flower happy,” she looks to Joel, “and that’s you. I will support both of you until my flower decides on something different.”

Joel’s face turns into a scowl, half joking and half pissed at the thought of you leaving him. “Which, I have a feeling isn’t gonna happen, so you can calm yourself, Mr. Grumpy Pants,” your mother adds after seeing his boyish reaction that would normally scare anyone but you, and apparently your mother.

You lose your shit at his new nickname, and all the emotions just flow out at once. You pull yourself off of Joel and run into your mothers arms, needing her comfort. She holds you like that for a few seconds before she says, “Okay, go, I think Mr. Grump needs your comfort now. Absolutely no way I’m doing it.” You laugh and squeeze her one last time before she grabs something in the kitchen and heads back outside. You make your way back to Mr. Grump, straddling his lap. Before she opens the back door, though, she calls out your name.

“Yes, mom?”

“I’ll cover for you, hon,” she says nonchalantly as she goes back outside.

You and Joel stare at each other for a moment, too shocked to take action on the opportunity that just presented itself to you. Then, it finally hits. You pull him into a kiss that’s downright feral, your hips grinding down on him on instinct. “Take-” you say as you try to break away from the kiss, but you’re too drunk on him to completely pull away, “t-take me home, baby.”

He grunts in response, and stands up with you completely wrapped around him. He heads for your front door.

“Baby, Baby, wait, not here,” you say breathily as you go back in for another quick kiss, “through the garage.” He looks confused for a second before he remembers. The front door camera. The left side of your driveway being the camera’s blind spot. Immediately he reroutes.

You would think the first thing he does is bring you to his bedroom, but no. He sets you on his couch, molding your body into his signature position for you that makes you sit on your heels, palms up on your thighs. He could’ve easily told you he wanted you in position, but again, he told you to take it easy.

Although the position almost always forces you into subspace, you’re confused and coherent enough to question him, “Baby..?”

He steps back, looking down at you with his eyebrow raised, “Don’tcha remember, sweet thing?”

“You pouncin’ on my fuckin’ dick was not takin’ it easy”, he said.

You promised you would be good.

To which he assured you, “Don’t worry, darlin’. I’ll make sure of it.”

He sees the moment it clicks in your head, and immediately his hold is on your chin, forcing you to look up at him. He leans down, his lips ghosting over yours. He whispers, “Color?” Still demanding but with a hint of softness to it. You tilt your head further back, trying to make your lips touch him more, “Green,” you say.

He pulls your chin into him and kisses you, slow and sweet, his tongue tangling with yours. He pulls away, breath slightly shaky, but he composes himself quickly and stands straight up, letting go of any contact with you.

His couch is either really low to the ground, or he is just one big motherfucker. Either way, you sitting on your haunches on his couch like this while he stands straight up in front of you makes your head in direct eye line of his crotch. And you can’t seem to pull your eyes away from it. You see his tent forming, and you’re smart enough to realize what lesson he’s about to give you.

“Told you to take it fuckin’ easy today,” he says as he slowly unbuckles his belt, “didn’t I, baby?”

“Yes, daddy,” you say quickly, not wanting to piss him off more.

“But ya didn’t,” his belt falls. “Did you?”

Your spit thickens. “No, daddy.”

His belt is on the floor, and he’s reaching to undo his button and zipper. “My good girl was jus’ too fuckin’ eager to have my dick in her mouth, hm?”

You lick your bottom lip, catching the drool you didn’t realize was pooling out of your mouth. Like Pavlov’s fucking dogs, he’s got you trained. You let out a whiny mhm in response, already completely blissed out at the prospect of what’s about to happen. He settles for it, this time.

He pulls his jeans down, just enough to pull himself free. He leaves his boxers up for now while he explains. He walks closer to you, his hardness one lick away from you, and forces you to look up at him again. “You’re gonna take my cock in your mouth again, sweetheart,” he says.

You eagerly cut him off, “Yes, please, thank you, daddy, I-”

He shuts you up by pushing his thumb in your mouth. “But you’re not gonna move or do anythin’, besides sit prettily for daddy,” his grip on your jaw tightens, “ya understand me?” He slides his thumb out and spreads your spit across your bottom lip and down your chin.

“I understand, daddy,” you say, your eyes completely glossed over. Out of instinct, you fold your hands behind your back, signaling to Joel your complete submission to him.

“Such a good girl when you remember how to be patient,” he says as he stands back to his full height again. He gets impossibly closer, crowding your face. He pulls his boxers down, and his erection springs free, the tip landing against your lips, smearing the pre-cum across it. It takes everything in you not to lick it up—you can’t, he needs to give you your next instructions. He hears your silent pleas, and as he settles his hand at the back of your head, fingers grounding themselves into the roots of your hair, he tells you, “Open.”

Knowing how rough Joel can get, you take a deep breath, relaxing your throat, and you open wide, your tongue laid flat out, slick with the drool that’s been forming since the noise of the belt buckle hit your ears.

His other hand is holding himself at the base, guiding himself into your mouth. He taps his tip on your tongue a few times for good measure, before pushing himself all the way in. You feel your gag reflex coming, but you take another deep breath through your nose, urging your throat to relax a little more. It does. He pushes slowly in until your nose is flush with the patch of hair above his length. All you wanna do is unclasp your hands and reach for his thighs to pull him into you tighter, wanting to engulf his scent into you, but you can’t. All you can do is take what he gives you while sitting pretty like the good girl you are.

He starts to pull back a little, and that naturally makes your throat contract, forcing a groan out of him and more saliva out of you. He lets go of himself, and now both hands are on you. He taps your cheek, asking you to look up at him. “Hands behind the entire time. Any touch on my thigh signals red to me, okay?”

You nod your head as best you can with his grip on you and let out a little moan for good measure. At your signal, he completely and utterly wrecks you with no hesitation. And you take it exactly as he gives it, just like you promised you would.

The more he thrusts, the more spit that builds, leaking from your mouth and down your chin. Your eyes are shut at the feeling of him abusing your throat, but he won’t have that. You feel his other hand not tap your cheek twice. Your eyes fly open and land on his dark ones. “Those eyes stay on me,” he grunts out at a particularly rough thrust. You whimper out at his words, trying to convey your apologies for doing something that could make him mad. “No, it’s alright, darlin’,” he says, his pace never faltering. “I- fuck- wasn’t specific enough,” he grunts, “but ya know what I expect now,” his thumb caresses the apple of your cheek. “Isn’t that right, pretty girl?”

Your eyebrows furrow and try to emphasize with your eyes that yes, eyes on you, daddy. He understands. “Atta girl, baby,” he breathes out, pulling out momentarily to give you a breath.

You choke out a little as he pulls out. He softens, concern laced in his voice, “You okay, amor?”

“Yes,” you say weakly, “I promise, please. W-want more..” You open your mouth wide again, tongue positioned perfectly for him to slide back in.

His eyes fall dark again and there’s that signature lopsided smirk. He guides himself back into you, completely, and his hand from your cheek glides down to wrap around your throat. “Shit, amor, you feel that?” He squeezes at the base of your throat. “I’m all the way fuckin’ in there, baby,” he says, falling back into a rough pace, feeling the outline of his dick glide in and out of your pathway. “You’re takin’ me so-” he lets out a pained grunt. He’s close. “-so fuckin’ good, shit, baby.”

Your throat constricts again, and that feeling is what sends him over. For the second time today, all of your senses are being consumed by everything Joel: his taste, his smell, his touch, the downright sinful sounds that grace your ears, and you take it all in, eagerly. Both hands release their hold on you as he pulls out of your mouth, and you’re quick to lean into his hips. His hand shoots back to the nape of your neck, pulling you back like a mother does to her puppy.

“You’re fuckin’ insatiable, you know that?” he says, out of breath, still trying to compose himself from the soul-sucking he just took from you. You give him a blissed out giggle, “You jus’ taste so yummy, daddy.”

“Yeah?” he asks, amused. “Well, so do you, babygirl, so it’s my turn now.”

Immediately your ears perk up and your body goes rigid. The thought of him giving you head with the flow you have right now doesn’t sit right with you. “Yellow,” you shakily whisper.

He lets go of the back of your neck and falls to his knees to match your eye level. “Oh, honey,” he cups your face, “Please tell me how to make it better. Do you wanna stop here, mi amor?”

Your body relaxes at his instant reaction. You’ve only ever had to use a safe-word with Joel twice. Today, included. And in each rare moment, he does what every caring partner and proper Dominant should: validate, comfort, and communicate. He has never given you any reason to be scared or feel disrespected. This is Joel we’re talking about here. You’re safe in his presence, always. The thought puts you at ease, but it also makes you feel a little ridiculous at using a safe word for something that could easily be communicated without it.

“Wait, I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you or anything, it’s something so tiny and stupid, I should’ve just communicated instead of going straight to the code-” you quickly start panicking as you ramble on, but he’s quicker. He pulls you off the couch and into his lap, holding you in a tight embrace, knowing the pressure is what helps pull you away from your panic attack. He’s muttering it’s okay, you’re okay and I’ve got ya, as he kisses the top of your head. As soon as he feels your body relax in his arms, he speaks. “Darlin’ girl, please look at me.” You do, teary-eyed.

“I completely forgot you were on your period. I was too in the moment, and I had a lapse in judgment in my words. I’m sorry. You should not be the one to apologize, ever, if you’re ever in an uncomfortable situation like this. The safe words are there for a reason, okay? Use them. They are there to keep you safe, always. Thank you for speakin’ up, my love.”

You nod your head at his words, too emotion-filled to respond with anything else right now. The only thing you can offer is a whisper of a “Thank you, I love you,” but that’s enough for him.

He gives you a soft kiss to your lips. “How would you like to continue, beautiful girl?”

You think for a moment, and the way that his hand feels wrapped around you starts to make your arousal build again. All you can think of are his big, calloused hands all over you. In your mouth. On your thighs. In your warmth. Screw the bloody mess, he doesn’t care. You squirm at the thought, and he feels you falling back into your space again. His cock stirs beneath you. He tightens his grip on you to coax you out of your thoughts. “Fingers,” you squeak out, your cheeks flushing red instantaneously. He grins, but his eyes stay fixed on you, hinting at you for something more. Then, it clicks. “P-please, daddy, need your fingers in me,” you say, voice trembling with need.

“I’ve got you, pretty girl,” he says as he pulls your thighs around him and brings himself to full height. He leads you to his bed, setting you down on the edge with a kiss to your forehead and a quick one moment, sweetheart.

He leaves to return back with a large bath towel and lays it across the center of his bed, dark blue to match his sheets. He situates pillows for your head and leaves a smaller one out, just in case. You feel his weight shift the bed, and he’s walking toward you on his knees. You lean into his touch the moment his hand makes contact at your lower back, and he’s guiding your shirt off of you. He takes that same arm, wrapping it around your waist, and leans down to situate the crook of your knees over his other arm. He’s carrying you up higher to the center of the bed, completely removing any opportunity for a thought to run through that head of yours. He wants you focused on nothing but the way he’s going to make you feel.

Once you’re laying down on your back, he makes his way down, placing soft kisses on your belly and all over your thighs while he slides your bottoms down your legs. Once you’re completely bare, Joel situates himself in a way that he’s never done before. He lays next to you on his side, shoulder propping him up, so his hand is underneath your head and he’s still looking down at you. He grabs onto your thigh closest to him, and he hooks your leg atop of his, opening you up.

The level of intimacy and vulnerability of the way you two are positioned against one another has your mind reeling, absolutely aching to be consumed by him. Joel is always sweet and soft with you, but this is completely on another level. It doesn’t feel motivated by a feral need to rip each other apart. The motivation lies in the pure need to feel. To feel you against him, consumed in the entirety of love and raw emotion. To feel him against you, filling you with a genuine intimacy and devotion you both know only he can provide you.

He brings his other hand up to gently cradle your face, and he leans in to slot his lips against yours, his tongue running along your bottom lip, swallowing the faintest of whimpers that slip from your throat. Your hand slides to the back of his neck, keeping him close, deepening your dance of lip and tongue. His hand drifts away from your face and takes his time to grasp and show attention to the rest of your body.

He takes one of your breasts in his hand, massaging it with a care that causes your fingers to curl tighter in his hair. He shows the same attention to your other one, then flattens out his entire hand to run down your sternum and belly, positioning his hand on the pathway down for his middle and ring finger to be the first that make contact with your sex.

And when it does, neither of you can hold back the groan that leaves your mouths. He’s too enamored by you to let his lips leave yours, but you have a feeling your filthy-mouthed man would make a comment about how wet you are for him. You know you’re right when he completely bypasses your clit and down to your entrance, eager to get his fingers covered in you, so he can spread it all over you.

You pull away for a moment, both of you out of breath and pupils completely blown. “You see how good you make me feel, daddy?” His fingers reach your clit again. “I’m so fucking wet,” you moan out, “and it’s all because of you- all for you, daddy.”

“Baby, please,” he grits out, his fingers leaving your clit after a few more circles, dipping into your entrance with ease. “So fuckin’ good to me, but fuck, stop talking,” he breathes, hips involuntarily thrusting into you, “need you to soak my fingers first, amor.”

You shoot him a smile that gives him butterflies, and then you’re pulling him back in, needing to feel him everywhere he can possibly manage.

The pace of his fingers are perfect, constantly hitting the spot that’ll get you there in no time with the heated sensation of lips. His hand behind your head moves down and wraps underneath your waist, pulling you in flush with his body. He needs to feel every part of you. Your leg closest to him—the one hooked around his leg—comes off of him, and now you two are completely laying on your sides, facing each other.

His fingers leave you for a moment to hike your other leg up and around his waist, your pussy inches away from his center. His fingers find you once more, and the angle is impossibly deeper. You’re whining out now as you rock your hips against his hand. He knows you're close with the way your breath shakes. He reaches his thumb up to circle your clit, and you break away from his lips, throwing your head back at an instinct, exposing all your sweet spots for his mouth to reach. As his hands continue working you to the edge, he gives you the final push when he latches at the base of your neck where your shoulder meets, and he litters the area in wet kisses and painfully delicious bites.

Oh, fuck, daddy, yes,” you moan out, your vision going white and your body going rigid. Your climax hits you so hard that you don’t realize his fingers left you, your thighs still convulsing and hurtling you through your high. You can faintly hear Joel, muttering his sweet whispers, as he always does.

“Oh, fuck, that was so fuckin’ sexy, baby.”

“You’re beautiful, yanno that?”

“I love you, my pretty girl,” he places a kiss right atop your heart.

Still, your mind is floating somewhere in narnia, so he understands when you don’t reply right away. You’re not even completely back from your orgasmic haze when he pulls his boxers completely off, throwing them somewhere in the room, and his aching cock is resting against your core.

“Darlin’ girl,” he brings his hand up to guide your limpless head to look at him, “I need you to use your words f’ me, honey, please give me a color,” he says, the softest you have ever heard him.

You give him the smallest smile back, but it’s so full of love and admiration. You’re lightly nodding your head yes, trying to will your vocal cords to respond. “G-gre..” you let out.

He stops you with a kiss, “Okay, honey, okay, that’s all I needed,” and another kiss, “Can I give my baby what she so desperately wants now?”

The prospect of the sensation your body is about to go through because of him ignites a fire in you. It forces you to come back down from your haze, so you can register every second of him in his entirety. Your neck straightens and your eyes open fully, pupils blacker than he’s ever seen. “Yes, daddy, please give it to me,” you say with a neediness more than anything. His lip quirks up in a smirk. “What my baby wants, she gets,” and he’s pushing your hips into him as he pushes into you, his tip notching at your entrance. You hiss, reveling in the stretch he gives you regardless of how much he works you open.

There’s a stigma with Dominants that they are always so calm and collected, always composed and never in a state of neediness and desperation like their submissive counterparts. However, that’s simply not true. In every please, in every whimper, in every cry; in every orgasm, in every act of brattiness, in each use of the honorific; in every demonstration of pure submission: there is a Dominant, willing themself not to give in and give their partner everything they need. There is a Dominant about to break because one more plea from the submissive’s mouth has them ready and willing to forgo every single plan they had for that particular scene.

And that’s exactly what Joel does here. He had a plan for you, even after you used your yellow code, but with the way he’s wrapped around you tonight—you have the power. You’re calling the shots. He exists simply and solely for you and your pleasure. Nothing else matters.

He bottoms out, and both his arms are wrapped around your waist, both of you completely aligned with one another. “How do you want me, baby?”

“I don’t care,” your forehead falls into his, “I just need to feel you, please.”

With your words, he’s thrusting into you with a calculated intention. You needed to feel him, you said. So he pushes in not too fast but not too slow, and hard. He buries himself to the hilt every single time, and it’s like he put you in a trance. Your eyes softly shut, trying to stay open to look at him; your eyebrows are pulled together; and the only sounds falling from your mouth are moans and whimpers and sweet nothings only he’d be able to decipher with your babbling. You feel everything in this angle, with his rhythm. You feel every vein, every ridge, you feel his tip kissing every sweet spot inside of you while simultaneously stealing the oxygen from your lungs. He feels so fucking good. Your leg hooked around his waist squeezes tighter on instinct, and he groans at the feeling. Seeing you completely desperate and at his disposal nearly finishes him right then and there.

Your hand is at its usual spot for tonight, wrapped tightly in the curls at the base of his neck. You're meeting his thrusts now, and it heightens the sensation tenfold. Both your breaths are hot and heavy, mingling into the thick air of Joel’s bedroom. You’re nearly at the edge again, you both are, but you need a little more of a push. “Baby, t-touch me, please,” you say with more breath than your actual voice. He sounds absolutely pained, “I got’cha, baby, I got’cha.” His hand leaves your waist, the other tightening around you to compensate for its absence, and his fingers are back on your bundle of nerves, circling at the same rhythm that he’s pulling in and out of you.

A gasp leaves your throat, and every part of you that’s wrapped around him pulls him in impossibly tighter, “fuck, just like that, fuck, please don’t stop, please don’t fucking stop,” you ramble on in an almost incoherent whine. You can feel your words and sounds spurring him on as his cock twitches inside of you. He’s close, too. Then it clicks, you realize what you meant earlier when you said you needed to feel him first.

His fingers speed up and so do his hips. “C’mon, darlin’, such a good fuckin’ girl, give it to me, soak my fuckin’ cock,” he grunts out, now chasing his own release.

Not stopping your movements, you unravel your arms from him and you push down on his chest, pushing him onto his back. You’re on top of him now, your movements only faltering momentarily as you situated yourself to straddle him. You grab both his arms, the one working your clit and the other on your waist, and you bring them up above his head. You pin them there with your own hand, your body leaning over him and adding to the momentum as you bounce on him. “No,” you say, almost a growl, “Need you inside me first,” sucking his bottom lip.

He fucking whines. “Need you inside me first, then I’ll give you what you’re looking for.” You switch off into a grind of your hips, moving back and forth as the feel of his pubic hairs rub against your clit causing your pussy to flutter on him. He feels it and his hands flex to move from your grip. Your hold on him tightens. You have the power. You lean down, licking a pathway up his neck and making your way near his ear. You whisper, “Stuff me full of you, daddy, and I’ll fucking soak you, I promise.”

“Fuck!” He growls as your hips speed up, and now he’s the one seeing stars. His face and neck flush into a bright red as he floods you with his release. And as if right on queue, the warmth and the feeling of him in you and seeping out of you is what finishes you. The constant stimulation on your clit from his pubic bone along with the angle his dick continues to prod at, you’re creaming and soaking him, just like he wanted. His thighs and even the area below his belly are drenched with the mixture of your guys’ fluids, and he can’t help but gawk at the scene before him.

You are completely surrounded by the product of your two’s arousal (plus a bit of blood, but he doesn’t care), you continuing slow grinds as you work yourself through your orgasm, and the way that your head is thrown back in pure bliss—he’s entranced by it all. His cock is nearing the line of painful overstimulation with you still on him, but he really can’t find himself caring enough to get your attention.

He thought he would never be into giving up his dominance, his yearn for control. But now that you’ve given him a taste at what you’re capable of, fuck, he feels downright insane if he didn’t want more of it.

You realize he may not be used to the oversensitivity as much as you may be trained for, so you bring yourself to a halt and slowly slip off of him. You bring your eyes to meet his, and you can’t help the giggle that leaves your mouth, seeing the goofy, blissed out grin on his face as he looks at you. You lean towards his head and give him a sweet kiss to his lips and his nose, and you softly tell him that you’ll be right back but to stay here with a slightly more demanding tone.

You quickly go pee in his en suite bathroom and wipe your bottom half down. You grab a pair of his boxers he leaves for emergencies under the sink (you let out a little chuckle at the fact), and grab a pad from the box he also leaves under the sink, for you, and stick it onto his underwear before shimmying it up on you. You grab another washcloth and soak it in warm water and walk back to the bed. You sit yourself up next to him and start wiping him down. As soon as you finish, you try your best and throw the washcloth, aiming for the sink of the bathroom, but you fail, miserably. It lands with a wet plop on the side of the toilet, centimeters away from landing in the toilet’s bowl. “Eh, that’s good enough,” you say to no one in particular as you nudge him to bring his hips up so you can take the towel out that he placed earlier to catch any of your blood drippings. You place it in the hamper, then you bring yourself to lay back down, cuddling into Joel.

He turns so you both are facing each other again. His head propped up on his hand. His other hand runs up and down everywhere he can reach.

“W-was what I did at the end there… was that okay?” you ask meekly as you slowly bring your eyes up to his.

He lets out a hearty laugh, shoulders shaking. You weren’t expecting that kind of reaction. “Honestly,” he says as his fingers come to a stop and he just lets his arm wrap around you lazily. “I was really shocked when you flipped me over, but then,” he pauses for a second. Really just to spur you on more than anything. “I was so fuckin’ turned on and achin’ for you. I’d just about let you do anythin’ to me if you treat me like that, darlin’,” he says as he leans down to place a kiss to your lips.

He pulls back and your gaze is away from him and your cheeks are as red as he was earlier. A shy smile paints your face. He brings his fingers up to your chin, “Oh, come on now, no point in gettin’ all shy on me now is there, my dirty girl?”

You give him the best reprimanding face you can muster (which he finds beyond adorable), and you parrot a common phrase he uses with you when you’re a brat, “Watch it, big boy.”

He laughs at your antics, but you see his cock twitch at the pet name. Your eyebrows shoot up. “Joel!” you say, actually reprimanding him this time, but you genuinely don’t know what for.

His hand shoots to cover his mouth, an attempt at stopping his burst of laughter at your reaction. He lets go of his mouth after a moment and pulls you closer to him. He places kisses all over your face while you both giggle and let yourselves fall from your high together.

He abruptly stops his kisses to look at you. He doesn’t say a word. “Yes?” you ask, curious of that mind of his.

“Ya know how much I love you, right?” he asks, genuinely.

“I think I’ve got a pretty good hint, baby.”

“Good,” he says, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“And I love you so much, you do know that, right?” you offer as you bury yourself into his chest, inhaling his musk mingled the faint aroma of you.

He repeats your response back to you. You smile in his chest. It’s you who places a kiss atop his heart this time.

You both stay wrapped up in each other for a few more hours before your tummy begins yelling at you for sustenance. Though, until that happens, you two lie in each other’s arms, wondering what you did to deserve such an all-consuming, raw and genuine love.

Your mother was right. You really were the brightest flower in the garden, and it was all because of your big, macho man, who was actually as soft and cuddly as the clouds that bring water for the garden. Ever since he entered your life, he made sure those clouds poured all their attention on you. Giving you all the water and nutrients, all the love and care that you would ever need.

Forever.

End note: Thank you so much for reading! As always, your support is always always appreciated. There's no amount of words to describe how grateful I am for how much love I receive from you all. You're all too amazing. Feedback is also greatly appreciated, whether it's praise or constructive! Anything and everything helps me to be the best writer I can be. I love you all so very much💚💚💚

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EDIT: As of the new year 2024, I no longer do taglists!! Follow @endlessthxxghtsnotifs and turn on the notifications to be updated when new stories come out!!

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lucysarah-c · 11 months

Text

Not in season?

Summary: Winter had settled in, and the scouts were busy training and preparing for the prospects of spring, still far away, to retake Wall Maria. Despite the snow accumulating outside, the building was freezing cold, and the world had secluded itself until the temperature rose. So, why was Captain Levi boiling in his own body? Something felt off, but his mind was quickly slipping into insanity as he tried to find a rational explanation. Author note: I've had this idea for so long… Omegaverse is my guilty pleasure, and I decided to treat myself with it. I'm self-conscious about my smut, so… practice makes perfect. That's it. In case I forget any warning or tag, feel free to remind me. Pairing: Levi x fem! reader. Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha Levi Ackerman, Top Levi Ackerman, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mating Bites, Mating Bond, Possessive Levi Ackerman, Possessive Sex, Possessive Behavior, Knotting, Dubious Consent, Rough Sex, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Multiple Orgasms, Smut, Breeding, Forced breeding, Biting, Breeding Kink, dubcon, Unplanned Pregnancy, Pregnancy Kink, Forced Pregnancy, Unsafe Sex, Nurse reader, Alpha Levi x Omega reader, Captain Levi Ackerma, Captain Levi x Nurse Reader, Dirty talk, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Alpha Hange Zoë, Alpha/Omega, Alpha Erwin Smith, Alpha Eren Yeager, Alpha Jean Kirstein, Alpha Mikasa Ackerman. Omegaverse. Word count: 8.6k words of pure porn. You had been warned lmao

Saliva accumulated in his mouth, pooling before he spat it into the sink. The rush of water from the tap washed away the residue as he continued spitting and splashing his face with cold water. A sense of uneasiness clouded his mind, lingering like the scent of smoke. He had showered, shaved, tidied his hair, cleaned under his nails, changed clothes, and brushed his teeth. What else was there to do?

A thick, almost sticky sensation coated his mouth, as if he had a stomach ache without the actual pain. Despite the cold weather, sweat formed on his forehead as he pushed the dark hairs out of the way, splashing his face with freezing water once more. Perhaps it was due to his inability to concentrate on work since early morning, causing him to pace around the room like a caged lion.

Correction, he did have a stomach ache, but he couldn't quite pinpoint the source or if it was even physically painful. It felt more uncomfortable than painful. Waves of acidic heat started in his groin and spread throughout his body. He had already consumed three cups of tea by 9 am. When he crossed paths with Erwin in the higher-ups' kitchen, the commander questioned him, noting the honey in all the teas. Unusual for him. Both of them were extremely busy, their minds preoccupied elsewhere. The commander didn't have time for extensive questioning, yet Levi couldn't shake off the extremely unpleasant sensation that Erwin's presence was the most annoying and irritating thing he had encountered.

"I'm craving something sweet," he added curtly, hoping it would suffice. It was true; he felt the need for something soft, sweet, cute, filling, and warm. He was irritable, easily bothered by Eren and Jean's silly actions during early practice. The display of youthful hormones and their desperate need for attention and dominance grated on his nerves. Oddly enough, he had grown accustomed to them and their displays of testosterone.

Newly presented alphas always behaved that way—baring teeth, growing, and fighting. Their disinterested and desperate cries for attention garnered no reaction from fully grown alphas. They were closer to pups playing pretend, training for future occasions in their lives than actual threats. Levi was sure of it, both as a mature alpha and as a high-bred one. Usually, the two boys only annoyed him with their strong, uncontrolled scents and nothing more.

However, that morning marked the moment he sensed something was off. Eren's insistence on asserting his dominance over the Kirstein boy with his scent almost prompted Levi to interfere, baring his teeth and loudly declaring that he was the one in charge. It had never struck him in this way before, these two newly presented boys. On the contrary, in previous instances, it had strengthened his sense of responsibility and paternal instinct, correcting their behaviour when he felt the need to show them the right way to behave. The captain secretly blamed that time spent alone with his squad in the cabin or Eren's fresh presentation under his watch at the former HQ.

Women usually precede such occurrences, they naturally present earlier than boys. So the Ackerman girl must have sensed something, her penetrating dark eyes never leaving his figure during training. Levi's suspicions were confirmed as soon as he called it a day and left. He could no longer bear it.

“Finishing so early?” Erwin inquired when they crossed paths again. The taller man wrinkled his nose slightly but stood in place, demanding an answer.

“I feel like shit,” Levi spat out, giving his back to the taller man as he stopped on his way but refused to face the commander.

“I see,” Erwin replied before adding, “consider going to get checked by the nurse.”

Levi clenched his teeth irrationally. Once again, the blond’s presence felt utterly annoying. 'I know! I can smell it all over you,' he thought.

“She’s at her station. I just came from there as she was checking my arm,” Erwin explained calmly, obviously not considering a deeper topic. “Y/N is young, but she’s very-”

The commander was cut off mid-sentence as Levi turned over his shoulder, deadly piercing eyes, and hissed at the taller alpha. Erwin stood in place, denying the idea of backing up as he kept his eyes glued to the shorter soldier, completely confused. “Did you just hiss at me?”

Levi shook his head, as if trying to snap some sense into his brain. “Fuck, sorry,” he said, then returned to his pace, feeling the judging blue eyes of his superior stuck to the back of his head.

He contorted in pain, bending over his desk as his body burned. His skin felt as if it were boiling in his own blood. Saliva filled his mouth, his jaw clenched with uncontrolled tension. "Too many," his sharpened senses detected the repugnant stench of too many competitors surrounding him.

The military was full with Alphas, lower or higher breed, but most of the members were either that or betas. Omegas weren’t allowed, at least no at the main activity divisions. More appropriate positions were reserved for them if they desire or unless they were low quality breeds, in order to avoid creating unnecessary commotion during their heats.

"I don't understand," Levi cursed under his breath as he contorted in pain, his body drenched in sweat. He slumped against the desk chair, tilting his head back as ragged breaths escaped his accelerated mouth. Ruts were something that had almost disappeared since he joined the military, and he was grateful for that. Without constant exposure to the presence of omegas, most purebred alphas reduced their ruts to near non-existence. Nature was wise—why waste energy and precious seed when there was nobody to claim? It was better to save it for a worthy occasion. Yes, there were perhaps a couple of instances when his body experienced reactions during particular seasons, but they were easily manageable.

This, however, was all-consuming. It began and ended with each breath that left his lips.

"Fuck, it's like I'm 18 all over again," he cursed, recalling previous ruts. The muscles in his legs twitched and contorted as he spread them apart. Every fibre, hair, and cell in his body strained, expanded, tightened, and prepared with ecstasy at the idea of "Fight, win, dominate, claim, breed, and secure." All of these required him to be exceptional.

Levi had always been fearful of confessing to anyone, but being an Ackerman and an alpha was quite the combination. The Ackerman powers granted individuals increased strength, agility, and combat prowess. When combined with an alpha's innate physical abilities during a rut, an Ackerman alpha became an even more formidable force. Their already heightened strength and endurance would be further amplified, allowing them to excel in protecting their pack and omega.

The Ackerman powers also enhanced an individual's senses, including perception and reflexes. This heightened sensory awareness complemented an alpha's already acute sense of smell during a rut. The combination resulted in an alpha with incredibly sharp instincts, capable of swiftly detecting danger or sensing the presence of a compatible omega.

In conclusion, every inch of his body was working diligently to find a suitable partner. His fingers reached for the cravat around his neck, loosening the pressure and seeking some relief. The cold leather of the chair briefly provided a deceptive sense of calmness until it warmed up and clung to his body. Two, three buttons were undone, and the air within the office began to thicken with his own pheromones as his neck became exposed. These were shameful actions that his body performed of its own accord, attempting to attract a potential mate.

Dry chuckles reverberated in his chest as he contemplated the absurdity of it all. "I'm humanity's strongest soldier. I fought the entire MPs to put a queen on the throne. I don't need to produce a bunch of hormonal shit to show an interested partner that I'm strong enough." Because that's what his body was doing—it was a display, a show, a performance, almost, of virility, strength, and power.

The idea of being dominated by the very thing he was supposed to control made him shudder. He wasn't just any alpha; he was Levi Ackerman, the clean freak who prided himself on maintaining order and discipline. Yet here he was, a mere pawn in nature's cruel game. "Fucking biology," he growled under his breath as if cursing the very laws that governed him. He knew what he had to do, but it felt like betrayal. His mind screamed at him to resist, to fight against the urge but little he could do.

Hange was quick to slap the door open, enthusiastic, and wrinkled their nose at the odour inside. They covered their mouth and nose with their hands, the stink being too much to bear.

"God, get your shit together, shorty!" they replied almost immediately. “Fuck, I can even feel the pheromones in my mouth,”

Levi groaned uncomfortably before adding, "You think it was something I could control, I wouldn't just do it?" He spat out his words, contorting uneasily in the chair.

"I came because Erwin mentioned that you cancelled training earlier. Well, this just makes sense," the brunette paced around the room, keeping their distance. As an Alpha themselves, with a strong bond of camaraderie between them, the titan lover understood the other's need. "You seem too far into the rut already for me to give you something to shut it down."

Another uneasy groan escaped Levi; this was not happy news.

"You'll have to deal with it like a big boy. I could give you something to make you more docile…"

"Fuck it," he quickly complained, being docile and Levi weren't two words that mixed well.

"Yeah," Hange chuckled as they kneeled next to the desk to inspect the short man better. "I thought you'd say that…"

Brown eyes fixed on Levi as if he were Eren during an experiment. "What?" Levi quickly snapped, feeling too much under scrutiny.

"… may I see your fangs? I've never seen you bare them, and now that you've admitted with the whole Kenny stuff to be an Ackerman, I'm curious how they look."

He bared his teeth; he was no subject of tests. "Fuck off," he replied, clearly irritable, but the brunette laughed as the sight was there for them to behold.

"There they are… god, they are huge. Poor omega… that's why only their bodies are meant to support the mating," While Hange insisted on inspecting the Captain and rambling about biological details and dynamics, the other poor alpha of the room was dying of heat. His body wasn't taking it easy that he wasn't collaborating willingly to go out there and search for a mate, especially when he had allowed another alpha inside his territory. "Talking about omegas," Hange picked up the topic after their rambling, "who have you been around with to trigger a rut? There are no omegas in the scouts."

"You tell me!" he replied between clenched teeth, almost drawing blood as he felt the stitches in his groin and the imperious necessity to bite something down and hold it as he pounded into it.

"God, I better go before you think about bitching me," Hange commented, not meaning it seriously. "I'll let the rest know you're sick to leave you alone. I'll leave a tray of food at the door and a change of water."

Levi hummed a sort of reply; he felt so humiliated. The mere thought of not having control over his body felt like an insult to his honour, to everything he stood for.

"Cheer up, have fun pounding your pillows," Hange's sing-song voice came through the door as it closed behind them.

It took a tremendous effort to rise from his seat, walk to the door, and add the lock on. Only then did he pace around the room like a caged lion, closing the window despite his need for coldness and drawing the curtains. The last thing he needed was some stupid cadet watching him jerk off over his desk. He kicked his boots off and started to undo the harness; it was done, it was inevitable at this point. Neatly putting them away while he still had some semblance of self-control and lucidity in his brain. It was going to be a long ride, a good couple of days closed inside there, almost ready to tear his skin off because his body "claimed" that this was the rightful time for mating.

Uniform off, he took a cold shower, thinking that he might have little to no mind to do it later on. It wasn't his first rut, of course not, but it had been definitely a while since his last. And he had no fond memories of the previous experiences. Once showered, he felt slightly at ease, a drop of water for a man dying of dehydration. Sweatpants on, no bothering with underwear, not even a shirt. Like a man waiting to be hanged, he prepared for what was about to come while he still had time to prepare.

It was winter, but he felt as if the air burned his skin, so warm it felt. He took off the bed cover to avoid getting it dirty, leaving only the sheets. Before he could even notice, his teeth were biting into his pillow, triggering his mind into thinking it was something else and also muffling his sounds. Thick expert hips thrusting in rhythmic movements, seeking fraction and release, his right hand squeezing the base of his dick, simulating what an omega's hole would feel like. So he could knot and feel a wash of relief until it started again. And again.

First, the rut, then the heat. In nature, it's rather a simple dynamic. Alphas go into rut first to showcase their capabilities, and when the heat hits, omegas have probably already had their eyes on one or two alphas.

Third chamomile tea, warming up her hands. She sighed slowly, trying to calm down her pounding heart. His hands did a calming massage over her neck, but her hair was getting loose as it escaped the low braid she had done during work. Something was off; she couldn't quite put her finger on what, but she started to wonder if she had caught a cold. Her body trembled as she got a fever; despite her rising body temperature, she felt rather cold, craving the warmth of her tea. Anxious thoughts clouded her mind, unsure why.

As the new nurse of the scout, she felt most of the time rather pointless. They had been preparing to retake Wall Maria during winter; there weren't expeditions, and accidents during training weren't that frequent, luckily so! She didn't want to appear as if she was waiting for someone to get injured to justify her presence. Her presence there wasn't only new; she had freshly graduated, and the surprise that they had chosen her as the main nurse made her anxious and happy. But the scout facilities were deep into the training areas, and the place was quiet and busy. Perhaps too quiet sometimes.

'Captain Levi is sick,' 'Oh goddess, doesn't he need me to check him out? I saw him a couple of days ago to check the healing of his ankle, and he seemed just fine!' 'No… better leave him alone; he's grumpy by nature. Imagine when he's sick.'

The conversation of the day before yesterday stuck in her mind far too much for her liking. Perhaps because she had checked his ankle, and while it seemed to be healing suspiciously fast, Captain Levi had explicitly asked her not to tell anyone how serious the injury had been. Her mind began to wander; had he gotten it infected somehow? What if it was more than just a cold? What if he needed someone to change the cold cloth over his forehead?

But the moment that kept replaying in her mind was when he brewed her tea, almost proud of how he had secured a deal for the best supplies from the Reeves Company. The soft touch of their fingers, the piercing colour of his eyes fixed on her—these memories lingered with an underlying haze each time she entered the room, though she wasn't sure why. Perhaps it was from her last visit, the previous week when her necklace had come loose and fallen to the ground. Levi's sharp eyes quickly found the silver piece and handed it back to her.

Feeling embarrassed, she attempted to fasten the necklace herself, but it was challenging. "Here, let me help you," he said, his calloused fingers moving her hair aside, knuckles ghostly brushing against her neck as he placed the necklace around it. The sensation left her feeling warm, her heartbeats echoing in her ears, and the inviting aroma of lavender and citrus filled the air, slightly musky. It made no sense; she was a beta!

'Maybe we both caught a cold.'

Her eyes were fixed on the ceiling above her, beneath the higher-ups' personal chambers. She knew that Levi's room wasn't directly above hers, but metaphorically speaking, it felt that way. She couldn't sleep; her body felt uneasy, tired yet expectant, hot yet cold, restless yet weak. Curling into a small ball on her mattress, she wished to hide from the world. A feeling of defenselessness washed over her. Her mind and body felt exposed and alone, craving reassurance and longing for her worries to slip away.

'Maybe I should check on him… ' 'Yes, yes, check on him,' a voice inside her head quickly agreed.

Armin had been tasked with delivering some food and fresh water to Levi's chambers, and since she couldn't sleep, she contemplated making a late-night visit to check on him and offer assistance with medicine. The night was bitterly cold, and she felt oddly exposed, much like a doe in the middle of a meadow, her big round eyes scanning for danger in the unprotected surroundings, perfect prey for lurking predators. She added a thick, long cardigan over her nightgown and left her bedroom, her loose hair flowing as her slippers echoed in the scout facilities' corridors.

As she made her way through the facility, a shaky candle's light flickered under her steps. She struggled to keep her cardigan closed around her chest, multitasking as she carried a few loaves of bread, a couple of nuts, and a jar of water. The closer she got to the higher-ups' chambers, the heavier her chest felt, and she started to consider the possibility that she might have caught a cold or something worse. Each step on the stairs to the upper floor felt torturous, and her body weakened.

Finally, she reached the door and softly knocked, trying not to wake the other superiors sleeping on the floor. "Captain? Captain Levi? It's me… I was wondering if you needed medicine, help… anything," her whisper felt absurdly loud in the still of the night. There was no response, so she knocked softly again and attempted to turn the doorknob. It was, of course, closed.

She had a moment of clarity as she thought, "I don't know what I was thinking." If Levi was feeling so unwell that he had been absent from work for almost three days, he was likely asleep, and that was the best medicine. Her legs flexed as she prepared to leave what she had brought with her on the floor when she snapped to attention as the door creaked open in front of her.

The air that slipped through the door hit her like a wrecking ball. It entered her nostrils, invaded her senses, and intoxicated her brain so quickly that she could barely process it. Levi's grey eyes observed her through the door's crack.

"Captain?" She whispered as her body grew warm, her cheeks flushed, her legs trembled, and her hands shook. The air felt heavy and lacking oxygen, and before she knew it, her natural response was to start apologising. "I… I brought you rations," she stammered, as if her brain was trying to come up with excuses.

As that intoxicating scent grew stronger, her body reacted. Her walls contracted, her legs pressed together, and she felt ashamed, especially since Levi was intensely staring at her through the crack of the door.

"Cap-?"

Before she could insist, the door opened slightly more, barely allowing her to slip inside. Once inside, the woody, pine scent with subtle undertones of mint, citrus, and lavender overtook her senses, leaving her devoid of coherent thought. Despite Levi's stature on the shorter side, the breadth of his shoulders and his imposing shadow against the door as he pushed it closed captured her attention. Perhaps, under different circumstances, she might have noticed the sound of the lock as he stood behind her, allowing her to venture inside his territory. But the pheromones worked their magic on her, causing her knees to weaken, her body to liquefy, and her face to flush. She felt a pulse of wetness down her core, dampening her underwear.

After placing the jar of water and rations on the desk, she leaned against it, feeling nearly incapable of standing. She had clearly overestimated her health; she was suffering from something more than just a cold. Her mouth grew dry, and she was about to turn and leave, back to her own bed, when Levi deliberately licked the back of her neck, sending shivers down her spine. She let out a loud gasp, trying to push him away.

Levi had her pinned against his desk. When had he moved so close to her? How was it possible that she hadn’t heard him? Most importantly, this wasn’t the Levi she knew, the one she peacefully drank tea with in the afternoons or the one who asked her if she needed anything from downtown when he was going to pick up rations with his squad.

Levi's pleasurable groans and purrs reverberated against his chest as he shamelessly licked the back of her neck and sniffed the area, softly caressing his canines against her skin.

"Captain, wait!" she tried to struggle away, pushing him off.

"Shh," he hushed, "no need to resist. I'll give you exactly what you came looking for, Omega."

Her body skipped a beat as she heard his hoarse voice. She felt her wetness spreading, an inner voice whispering, ‘Yes! Yes, this is what you want. Be good to him, be calm for him, be receptive, be a good little omega.’

Her legs trembled in desperation to stand straight, but the musky scent in the room awakened something deep inside her, almost animalistic. Levi's hands held her hips, pushing them backward, and his groan joined her pants as she felt the thick, throbbing member under his sweatpants. Her soft gasps weren't just because of the sweet friction she didn't want to enjoy as much as she did; Levi's half-hard member felt impossibly thick and demanding against her.

His fingers crept up her legs, her attempts to grab his wrists and stop him proving futile. "I-I'm not an omega! I'm a beta," she insisted.

Levi chuckled, the vibration reaching her as his fangs lightly grazed her vulnerable skin on her neck, not biting just yet, but teasing her with the idea of it. "Is that so? Well, this part of you says otherwise," his fingers moved up and down her soaking wet underwear.

"No- I… I'm not…"

"I can smell you, how sweet you taste, how wet you are, how desperate you are for it," Levi's voice was surprisingly calm, deep, and smooth, but with an undertone that made him sound as if he was lost, not completely in control of his own mind. "Submit, and I may take you to the bed, where your knees won't bruise."

"I'm not an omega," she repeated, her voice trembling. She could feel the wetness on her thighs seeping through her underwear and onto his fingers. It was humiliating yet exhilarating, confusing yet intoxicating. The scent of him surrounded her, consuming her senses, and despite herself, she couldn't help but arch her back, pressing herself closer to him.

Her heartbeat echoed in her ears; it seemed like a drum roll announcing their inevitable surrender. "But I… I can't…" His hands held her hips firmly, preventing any chance of escape while also keeping her close enough for him to sniff and lick her neck whenever he wanted.

"You are mine," he whispered hoarsely, his voice vibrating with raw desire. “That tight little hole of yours is twitching for me, begging for my knot. You’re obviously in need of a proper mate,”

His fingers danced along her hip bones, teasingly close to the place where they met but never touching. He leaned down further, his nose almost brushing against her hair. "I can smell your wetness, your readiness to take my seed.” His hips pressed and jerked against he, breathing heavily against her neck as he rocked his cock against her ass.

“I’ll breed you properly, do not worry,”

"It's because of the rut," she said quietly, trying to rationalise the situation but incapable of controlling the gasps "We both are affected by it."

Levi chuckled darkly, his hands moving up her sides to cup her breasts through her nightgown. "Yes, I’ve triggered your heat," he agreed, his voice husky.

His fingers brushed against her nipples through the thin fabric, sending shivers down her spine. She moaned softly, her body betraying her resistance. Her mind screamed at her to push him away, to run, but her body yearned for more.

"You’re not thinking straight" she cried out, her voice shaking with desire and anger.

"I know exactly what I want," Levi murmured, his breath warm against her skin. His dick swelled in his pants, this time ready for the actual act not some pathetic fantasy in his sheets. He spoke as if he was in trance, drunk on something sweeter than honey, softer than silk. His mouth started to salivate, teeth clenched and his hands lost control of his own strength as the veins of his hands and forearms popped as he tightened his grip.

She felt so small in his arms, so vulnerable yet so desired, and it was a confusing cocktail of emotions that left her feeling disoriented and helpless. But despite everything, there was an underlying thrill coursing through her veins, telling her that this wasn't something she should resist.

Her heart pounded against her chest as if trying to escape its confines. It was almost comical how desperately she wanted him, how eagerly she craved his touch, his scent, his possession. And yet, deep down, there was a part of her screaming at herself to fight against it, to run away, to save herself from becoming someone else's plaything.

The struggle inside her mirrored the one outside; Levi's grip on her hips tightened, pulling her closer while simultaneously pushing her back against the desk. His other hand moved up, tracing along her neckline until he reached the clasp of her nightgown. With a swift movement, he undid it, revealing more of her skin to his hungry eyes.

She gasped as the cold air hit her bare shoulders, making her nipples erect and visible beneath the thin fabric of her nightgown. Levi's gaze lingered on them for a moment before moving further down, taking in the sight of her wet underwear.

"You're so fucking wet," he whispered hoarsely, his voice barely audible over the sound of their heavy breathing. "I could take you right here, right now, against this damn table."

His fingers slid into the waistband of her underwear, tugging it down slightly. The sensation was exquisite yet terrifying, like walking a tightrope without any safety net below. Her body trembled with anticipation and fear, each breath she took only heightening her senses further.

Perhaps the worst part of it all is how arousing it was, him manhandling her to his own wishes. Hands squeezing and kneading the skin of her body to his own pleasure, his legs parting between hers to force the space and secure her own hips to the sturdy wedge of Levi’s hips.

"Please…" she whimpered, unsure whether she was begging for mercy or for more. “Please, not here,”

Levi's pupils dilated. It had been so long, so stupidly long. Perhaps the last time he recalled being inside something warm and releasing one load after the other, squeezed almost to death by soft, tight, warm walls, was during his thug days back in the underground. The anticipation festered in his mind, his chest rapidly rising and falling at the mere thought of it. Maybe that's why Omegas weren't allowed in the military, those pretty little things, the perfect match for his knot to force his seed repeatedly until it took. And God, it would work perfectly—the perkiness of her breasts, the pertness of her ass, the roundness of her hips, the glistening of her inner thighs as she moistened herself perfectly for him to slide right in. Every inch of her body was made for him to claim and breed.

His large, pale hand groped her ass, squeezing his fingertips against her skin until it left marks, the bruise of his strength. She felt like a doll in his hands, moldable and ready for his every whim. Yet, there was something strangely comforting about it too. To be utterly at his mercy, to surrender control and let him take charge—it was terrifying and exhilarating, all rolled into one. Her head turned to the side, her glittering eyes looking back at him expectantly.

Levi's eyes locked onto hers, his gaze fiery and possessive. Her eyes met his, and for the first time since this whole ordeal began, she saw something different in them. There was no humour, no coldness, no distance. Only raw desire, hunger, and possessiveness reflected back at her. "You want this, don't you? You fucking crave it," he chuckled darkly, his voice barely audible over the sound of their heavy breathing.

"I'm not…" she tried to protest again, but her words caught in her throat, trapped between fear and lust. She wanted him, needed him, yet part of her fought desperately against this primal urge.

Levi chuckled darkly, his fingers tracing along her inner thighs, barely touching but enough to send shivers down her spine. "You are," he whispered hoarsely, his breath warm against her skin. "And I plan to take advantage of it."

She whimpered again, a sound that was half protest, half pleasure.

Desperate to finally touch that sweet pool of warm slick between her legs, calloused fingers slipped upwards, running up and down her folds. Anything around her hole was dripping wet, almost to the middle of her legs. It felt absurd how her body reacted. Two unceremoniously fingers slipped in, her back arched, her lips parted, and she let out lewd moans that must have caught the attention of one or two higher-ups.

The sounds that reached his ears were obscene. It was ridiculous how she felt his fingers sliding right in and out, merciless but smooth. Her senses caught every humiliating detail of how wet she was for him. Levi didn't bother with detailed foreplay; there was no need. Her instincts had done all the work for him. Stupidly slippery, he parted his fingers, filling the pull of her walls that easily succumbed to the pressure, allowing more space for him, her cervix welcoming his load.

He withdrew his doused fingers, raised them up for him to take a good sniff before sucking them with delight. Almost throatily purring at the flavour, he said, "You're in the perfect cycle. I'm going to mount you and breed you as you deserve."

She emitted soft mews, her hips pushing backward, her ass slightly shaking to the sides, desperately trying to regain the alpha's attention. His head throbbed with determination as much as his manhood did inside his pants.

"Nngh.." she moaned, rocking against his desk, mourning the loss of his touch “Levi.. please,”

He stepped back slightly, giving her an illusion of freedom that was quickly shattered when he grabbed her hips again and lifted her off the ground. He wasted no time, she gasped as his fingers dug into her flesh, but it wasn't painful. Carrying her to his attached room as his hands sneaked under her ribs and pushed the nightgown over her head. Leaving her completely exposed. Levi's gaze roamed over her naked body, taking in every curve, every dip, every inch of her exposed skin. His canines gleamed dangerously as he licked his lips, almost like a predator sizing up its prey. Placing her on his mattress, the sheets were a mess and he had no mind in the past few days to even bother. Only serving further to his mind state.

Quickly he took off the sweatpants that hung lazily over his hips, tossing them aside not minding where they landed before he sinked a knee on the mattress crawling over her frame. How welcoming her body was, legs parting to show her leaking hole as a trophy for him to claim. Widening his knees to brace himself for what was about to come. Her watery eyes looked at the throbbing cock between his legs, it wasn’t just the length or the grid of it. It was the curve, the glycerin of the tip with pre-cum and the base that was already inflating in anticipation, softly twitching under the night light in arousement. The idea of being bred by an alpha as strong as Levi made her rock her hips against absolutely nothing, feeling her wetness sneak between her ass cheeks into the bed.

“Alpha… please ah- Come on,” She mewled, obviously already too far gone into it.

Her eyelashes fluttered while she laid trembling in the sheets, soft mewls convinced with keens as Levi’s lip latched on one of her buds, fingers massaging the softness of her breasts. Levi moved forward, hovering over the smaller omega. Yanking one leg over his shoulders only for his fingers to find the place he was going to claim once more, harshly biting the tender meat of her inner legs.

Levi's finger, slick with her arousal, slid into her tight heat with ease. He allowed a soft grunt of satisfaction to escape his lips, his eyes fixed on her flushed face as he carefully gauged the reactions. He curled his finger inside her, searching for the spot that would bring the sweet creature the most pleasure. His touch was controlled and skilled, determined to bring her to the peak of ecstasy.

"You like that, don’t you? Fuck, you’re sucking me in. Desperate little bitch for my seed. Trust in me, my omega."

His thumb found her clit, gently rubbing circles against it as his finger continued to thrust in and out of her wetness. The stimulation from his finger and thumb working in tandem left her teetering on the edge of pleasure, her moans growing louder with each passing moment.

"Alpha," Y/N moaned, feeling herself close, seeing him with residues of her wetness in his mouth "It feels good… I feel full,"

Levi's eyes darkened with desire as he heard her moans of pleasure and felt her walls tighten around his finger. He had to bite down a smirk as the mere thought of someone hearing him claiming what was rightfully his felt like a wet dream come true. Her words of satisfaction only fueled his own pride.

"You're doing so well, my omega," he murmured, his voice filled with husky approval. "Just let go and surrender,”

With his skilled touch, he increased the pace of his finger, thrusting deeper and faster inside her, while his thumb continued to rub herclit with firm and precise movements. Levi's own desire burned within him, his cock twitching against his lower abdomen, leaking shamelessly.

His movements became more urgent, his finger thrusting faster within her as his thumb pressed harder against her perfect spot. The dual sensations sent powerful waves of pleasure coursing through her body, bringing her closer and closer to the edge of climax. With one final, powerful thrust, Levi's fingers found that sweet spot within her, his thumb exerting a steady pressure on her bud. The combination of sensations was overwhelming, all consuming. Crying out his name, sweet body convulsed with pleasure, waves of ecstasy crashing over the poor creature.

Red swollen lips swollen and flushed face, she observed him withdraw his fingers and lick them cleans with a satisfaction smirk.

"Full?" He questioned, almost mocking "Oh, already? but I'll stuff you even more"

His words drew her eyes to his cock, that at this rate looked painfully ready. "Indeed," he replied, his voice laced with a mixture of lust and dominance. "I will show you what it truly means to be filled, to be completely consumed by an alpha."

A soft breath of rationality crossed her mind, forcing her to contour under his frame and seek liberation, fighting back and struggling. Levi's eyes narrowed slightly as he noticed the lack of cooperation. His dominant demeanour increased as the prospect of losing his potential mate felt outrageous.

"Your body is capable of accommodating me. Your body was made to be claimed by an alpha," he insisted, letting out an irritated snarl.

Drawing back into his knees, harsh hands gripping her hips and flipping her over. “Present,” he snarted commanding. Soft mewls left her lips as she sinked slightly into the mattress but Levi had run out of patience. Strong hands pushing between her shoulder blades to force the correct arch of her back, muffled cries left her lips as her face was buried into the mattress. No thought crossed her mind, she was devoid of any real rational capability as she felt her own wetness oozing out of her raised ass. Fingers sinking into her hips bones to secure the position and thick muscular thighs parting between her to find the perfect levalege for what was about to come.

The tip of his cock ran up and down her folds gathering the wetness and his hands spread it over his length, mixing it with his own leaking pre-cum. Thick head of his cock began to sink into her tight and wet heat. The sensation of her walls wrapping around him, the way her body tried to miserably accommodate him so willingly, sent shivers of pleasure down his spine. His breath held as it was a tight fit. Her nails sinked into the sheet as she squirm and wiggle her hips. Knees sliding over the bed, finding any way to create more space for him as he sank deeper.

He could feel her body twist and adjust to his size, her walls clenching around him in response. The feeling of being completely buried within her warmth made his breath hitch in his chest.

“Ah-Nnhg! Wait,” she cried out as the pleasure and pain mixed extremely well inside her fogged brain.

"Relax," he growled, rambling his hips forward. Both of them let out a loud moan as he finally sinked all the way in. With slow, deliberate movements, he began to move within her, withdrawing his length and then pushing back in. And not fully because he wanted, if it had been left to him, he would have been pounding the body below him in animalistic rhythm to the point her knees raised from the bed but she was definitely not accustomed to being mated by an alpha. His thick length spread her deeper and faster each time, as her own body eased out the process as she felt herself become ever wetter.

At this rate, if the rest hadn’t woken up, then they must be deaf. The squeaks of the bed, the slamming of the frame against the walls. The high detailed wet noises of skin against skin, his thick fat cock entering in her wet heap over and over again. Only adding her loud moans of pleasure that turned into winces each time he bottomed up. The pull of his cock sliding in each time deeper was maddening, to the point that her breath came out in chopped pants, finding it difficult to breathe more each time despite trying.

The grip of his hands on her hips tightened, his fingers digging into the skin possessively. His thrusts became more forceful and deliberate, his hips meeting her with every movement, driving himself deeper into her core. “Ah- Yes!” moans grew louder, echoing in the room, mixing with his growls of pleasure.

Levi's pace intensified, the sound of his hips slapping against her filling the room, the bed rocking with each powerful thrust. Time seemed to stand still, lost in the overwhelming sensations that coursed through both of their bodies.

"You're mine," he growled, his voice possessive and dominant. Both intoxicated, each on their own duty. His to fuck, bit, lick, suck anything that would him secure to be buried up as deep as possible, make sure that the head of his cock was assaulting the sweet welcoming open of her womb. And hers to slay sprawled on the bed for Levi to have his way with her, take anything she was giving and allow him to do his work.

"Yes! yes, alpha! I'm yours," she moaned back "claim me,"

Her body seemed to have a mind of its own as the eagerness of his movements told the inner instincts about what was about to come. Her inner omega knew exactly what was about to happen, preparing for something that not even herself was entirely sure about.

“Fuck! Nhg… Yes, shit!” his voice turned hoarse as he snarled in pleasure. Nothing he had been trying to provide for himself the last couple of days could ever compare to his. Anything else paled in comparison to the melting heat of her cunt, to the slippery heaven her hole was. He could feel the walls contract around him, milking him for everything he was worth. He could almost sob on how good it felt, especially after all the build abstinence. Depriving himself of this was simple torture, he wasn’t even done yet and he could already moan at the idea of repeating it all over again.

Levi's control over her was absolute as he held her down, his dominance and power asserting itself with each forceful thrust. The intoxicating mixture of pleasure and pain coursed through her veins, igniting a primal hunger within her. The sound of Y/N’s moans and pleas filled the air, driving him further into a state of possessive desire. His movements became more frenzied, his hips snapping against hers with a relentless rhythm. The force of his thrusts owned her wince, the delicate edge between pleasure and pain blurring and simply adding to the intensity of the experience.

Levi moved to hover over her, his chest pressed against her back, his hands wrapping down her arms to push her back as he thrusted in.

“Ah! Ah!” Flustering lids as her eyes rolled backwards, lips parted letting out encouraging words that would be extremely embarrassing to recall later on.

“I’m gonna breed you- Fuck- I’ll stuff you full that the only reason you won’t be leaking my cum its because I’ll knot you so fucking well” Levi growled, hips stuttering. She felt the alpha shudder above her, thrusts becoming frantic.

“Yes! Yes, please,” she moaned eagerly, unaware, unconscious. In the delicious state she was in, hardly could notice any change in the process. Only how the head of his cock hit her cervix repeatedly, preparing it to accept his load. Further spreading her legs as the knees and sobs become incoherent. The prospect of being mated and claimed but such a good alpha was enough reassurance for her drunk brain.

Mouth hanging open but produced no sound as another climax was ripped through her, her legs trembling and shaking in desperation. Feeling her own walls clamping down on Levi’s length, spamming around it. Another pulse of slick forced out of her, oozing it down and obscenely wetting even his own legs as his cock kept stretching her out. Her inner instincts were so pleased, so extremely delighted of being held down and mated properly.

Levi’s desperate groans and snarts grew harsh and breathy as his own body prepared for the peak of the act. He had no idea how long he had been there, snapping his hips, holding her down, assaulting that beautiful cunt. However, Levi had concluded a simple thought. His entire life and sense of living had been reduced to this moment. One hand reached backwards to the bottom of her belly to press and feel, feeling his own cock was getting larger.

“Mhhh! Nhg” her winces as it was already too much to handle. “No- no!” she resisted, it was too much, no amount of slick and hazed pheromones could clouded her mind to the feeling of him stretching her rim impossibly wide.

His lower abs contracted, his legs twitched with the prospect, his possessive growls reverberated on his chest as he warned her of ruining this precise moment for him. His movements became even more primal, his grip on her body tightening as he pounded into her with a commanding force. The sound of her wetness and the slap of skin against skin filled the room, echoing the intensity.

Moving in earnest with a single purpose, knotting. “W-wait!” She cried, each push had that large cockhead touching my cervix, preparing it to accept his load.

Levi’s sharp snarl pierced through her body as he feared his mate escaping on the peak of the act or perhaps moving and running his calculative pounding. Pale lips parted, heavy breath impacting on the back of her head, saliva dripping from the corners of his lips. His teeth sinked mercilessly on the back of her neck, right on her scent gland and forcing submission into her frame. Latching his jaw around the back of the omega’s neck, drawing blood out of it as it mixed with his own saliva as he was drooling of the pleasure that cursed through him.

She could no longer move, her body became a pliant frame for him to deliver powerful thrust, his knots brushed against her entrance, teasing and preparing to further claim her and fill her with his seed. The grip on her frame was almost painful as he kept thrusting forward, trying to force his knot, the swollen part of the bottom of his lengths, to finally break in.

Her mouth hung open but produced no sound as she felt him finally being able to pop inside his knot with a last trust. Now unable to pull out anymore, his cock securely pressed as deep as it could go, head right on the opening of her womb, his knot secured in her entrance making sure that all his seed remained inside. No longer pushing out, only rocking against her frame. The pleasure of being stroked so deep within at such a brutal pace had her insides fluttering. Walls contracted around Levi's cock as he circled his hips jerking. Y/N squirmed as she felt the hot liquid gushing into her. Levi's shallow pumps released more each time. Rodding out his climax, growling softly as he humped desperately the soft body beneath him. Each shallow pump released more of his hot seed deep within her. With each pulsation, she felt the overwhelming fullness.

“Ah-” She mewled out as he released her neck to press his forehead against her nape, purring content to the point she could almost feel the satisfaction smile on the corner of his lips. Quick were to arrive the soft kisses and gentle laps on the claiming mark to numb the zone.

Levi’s endearing vibrations echoed on her exhausted frame as his chest was still pressed against her back. His hands now running up and down her sides as he kissed his shoulder blades delighted of a successful mating. It was a mere wash of calmness until the heat demanded them to retake the actions repeatedly.

Levi manoeuvred them to be laying on their side, spooning her from behind as they couldn't unlock yet. The cramped sheets at the bottom of the bed frame as the heat of their connected body was enough despite the winter temperatures. He dedicated to deliver affectionate gesture, a calming reassurance after the intensity of their union. He held her close, his strong arm draped around her waist as if somehow she could still perhaps run away. The tips of his hair tickled her face as Levi provided one of his arms as a pillow for both to rest their heads. It was stupid, to the point he probably would be ashamed later on how happy his mind was about it.

Pillows were spread around the floor, half-eaten loaves of bread on the night table. Shivers ran down his body as the air was humid and cold, dense and thick with confinement. The almost transparent sheets weren’t enough; his hand searched in vain and blindness for his blankets. He sat up abruptly, suddenly ashamed of his own nudity as his body felt sticky. His hips hurt, his legs contracted as if he had run a marathon, his hair clung to his forehead because of the lack of wash, his body froze as the sweat had turned cold.

Grey eyes roamed around his room that suddenly felt foreign to him. It was a mess, and he didn’t just say that because he was a clean freak. It WAS a mess. The sheets hung wrinkled on the edge of the bed, the bed frame had moved around, there were dirty dishes and jars of water half-drunk. His stomach groaned, complaining as the necessity to ingest food over any other priorities started to retake his system. The thick saliva in his mouth was gulped down slowly as his eyes admired the naked body sleeping next to him on the bed, tired and unaware. Levi couldn’t unglue his eyes from her naked back. His fingers ghosted over the purplish inflated claiming mark on the girl’s neck, not daring to touch it.

“No…” he whispered as realisation began to sink into his brain, which was finally, after almost over a week, regaining rationality. He slightly shook his head as he felt blame crawling up to him as if it was all a big mistake. Trying to search for a glimmer of hope, he carefully hovered over her peacefully resting body to softly sniff the mark he had left behind.

Shutting his eyes closed with pain and clenching his teeth, he breathed out, “Fuck!” Everything made sense now. She had mentioned that she was from a small country village and that during her nurse training, she lived in an omegas and betas only pension. Nature was wise—why waste energy and precious heat cycles when there was nobody around to claim her? It was better to save it for a worthy occasion. The way bringing her pastries from downtown brightened up her features, his necessity to provide tea for her, the chemical reaction of his face being too close to her neck that occasion. He had triggered her presentation.

‘A late bloomer,’ he thought. Unpresented, assumed to be a beta. His instincts knew better than himself.

“What the fuck have I done?” He cursed under his breath.

“Levi?”

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novemberheart · 1 month

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{overview} You get attacked. Does your pack step up for you?

{warnings} violence, blood, mentions of sexual content (no sexual abuse), fem reader, cursing, poly141, pain, crying, angst, a/b/o dynamics

Chapter 10 <- Chapter 11 -> Chapter 12

It was Simon’s last day of physical therapy. If he passed this he would be cleared to get back out in the field. On his way, he dropped you off at another Omega Committee event. This one you were actually excited about. It was a hike through the forest at the far end of the base. Priya wasn't there and you wished you had the presence of mind to have asked her for her number. But luckily you ran into Anais.

“You smell like peaches and cream. Anyone ever told you that?” she asked. The sound of Johnny yelling “peaches” instantly ran through your mind.

“A few, yeah.” you smiled.

“Well that's what I'm going to call you, PC for short.” she giggled. You had been called worse. Anais was a chatter. You didn't really mind though.

“Can I ask you something- something personal,” she whispered, leaning even closer to you. Curiosity killed the cat.

“How does it work with all five of you? Do they take turns-” she whispered.

“Oh my god, Anais.” you couldn't help but chuckle, despite the flaming of your cheeks. To be honest you were wondering the same thing.

“That was too much! I'm so sorry. I was just curious and I thought we were friends”-

“Anais it's alright. If I knew I probably wouldn't mind sharing a bit of info.” You assured. She relaxed.

“So you haven't?”

“No,” you responded truthfully.

“Have you ever?” she trailed off. You hadn't. You never really had the chance. You weren't sure if your pack members would approve of you spilling this information everywhere. “I'll take that as a no.” she snickered. You gave her a playful side-eye.

“Don’t worry about it. Took me forever to lose mine too.” she signed.

“It has not been forever!” you gasped, swatting at her. She laughed loudly causing a few heads to turn. Neither of you really cared.

“Just don't get your hopes up. First times are always terrible,” she advised, bumping you with her arm.

“Thanks for the pep talk.” you huffed.

“Do you have a favorite pack member yet?” she asked suddenly. You quickly shook your head. You enjoyed them all- truthfully. “I think if I was in a pack I would have my favorites. Hopefully one would be my alpha, but you never know,” she smirked.

“Can I ask you something?” you began.

“Shoot.”

“Did it hurt when you were marked?” you questioned.

“The first time, yes. I was in a long-term relationship with an alpha who wasn't entirely nice.”

“I'm sorry Anais.”

She quickly waved you off. “Don't worry about it. It was a long time ago. The second time, not as much. He did it during my heat and it only hurt for a day when I came out of it.” she explained.

“You’re strong Anais.” you said. She flashed you a smile.

“We’re omegas, PC. We have to be.”

The hike back was partly uphill, which was nobody's favorite.

“It was so beautiful when we left. When did it get so bloody hot out?” you panted.

“Look. The heat turns you English.” Anais chuckled through her own pants. You may have picked up a few phrases from the boys.

“Alright, everyone, take five!” One of the group leaders shouted. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. You had made it to the edge of the base, still a little under half a mile to get back.

“I’m going to go refill my water. You need some?” you asked. Anais flopped down on the grass, her arms blocking her face from the sun.

“No thank you.” she groaned, rolling onto her stomach. You made your way up to the front, intending to tell one of the leaders you were going to go get some water. You huffed as the same five omegas were consuming all their attention. “Whatever.” you sighed. You knew where it was, you had filled your water bottle up with Kyle a few days ago when he took you bird watching. Besides, Anais knew where you were.

You made your way quickly towards the buildings, going between them to the other side where the water fountain was.

“My thumbs gonna fall off,” you grumbled. You had to press and hold the button down hard. Kyle made it look easy. Your ears perked up at the sound of footsteps. Your head darted around not seeing anything. You figured you didn't need water that bad and began walking back.

You were abruptly thrown to the ground. Your shorts offered absolutely no protection against the rough gravel. The whole left side of your body slid against the ground, the force of the shove sending you a few feet. There was a low growl behind you and you acted purely on instinct. You felt a hand on your ankle pulling you back. You flipped yourself around, swinging your arm luckily catching a man's face with your claws. He howled, throwing himself away from you. You quickly shuffled backward trying to find your footing.

“Shit, that's 141.” the other man with him cursed. He grabbed the bleeding man pulling him away. Even though they were leaving, you knew you weren't safe. You were finally able to get your footing and began running around the corner, almost knocking Anais down in the process.

“What the fuck!” she shrieked. You were beginning to bleed at this point. It started dripping down your left leg, and right knee. It was starting to show through your shirt on your left side, your elbow, both your hands, and your chin. “It's okay, lovie.” she soothed. You were trying your hardest to keep it together, not wanting to create a scene, however, the pain and fear were making it very difficult.

“I can't go back to the group like this,” you whined. People will think you’re crazy.

“Don't worry. This wasn't your fault. Everyone will understand.” she soothed, gently pulling you along. You held your ground shaking your head. “PC you're bleeding a lot. You need help.” she insisted.

“I want my pack.” you whimpered. You pressed the backside of your hand against your mouth, your throat constricting.

“If you come with me you can get to them.” she urged. It was the push you needed. Luckily you didn't get very far before a group leader noticed and raced towards you.

“What happened?” he questioned. You ignored him, not really in the mood to talk to strange men, and pulled your backpack forward grabbing your phone out of the front pocket. You were lucky it hadn't shattered in the ordeal.

“Someone attacked her.” Anais growled, annoyed that he couldn't use the context clues.

“Hello?” Johnny had picked up after one ring. Hearing his voice made it impossible to hold back any tears. You sobbed into the phone. You heard him repeat your name on the other end, it growing louder and louder every time it left his lips.

“I need you, please. I'm not really sure where I’m at.”

“It's alright, Bon. I have your location pulled up on my phone, I'm near there. Just don't hang up,” he assured. Your chip. You breathed a sigh of relief, leaning against the side of the building.

“I think you should head back to the group.” The group leader directed towards Anais.

“No way,” she growled. “I’m not leaving her”

“Thank you.” you mouthed.

“Of course,” she whispered back. She leaned against the building with you. The rest of the group was still there, the other group leaders trying to prevent them from getting any closer. You didn't need to worry about that, as Johnny quickly rounded the corner, gravel flying under his feet. His mouth fell open at the state of you. His arms extended out and you quickly threw yourself at him, neither of you caring about any blood, sweat, or tears.

“I got you, baby,” he whispered, causing you to lose it again.

“I want to go home.” you whimpered, against his shoulder. Your legs were wrapped firmly around his waist, his arms squeezing you so hard you might have even more bruises.

“Alright.” he soothed. He nodded his head to the group leader and Anais.

“I'll come and visit you in a few days,” Anais called after you.

“Thank you.” you sputtered back. He didn't say a word but pressed his lips against the side of your head every few feet. He stopped setting you down causing you to sob louder. He peeled off his jacket quickly. Carefully dabbing your legs, where the most blood was coming out. He didn't want you to leave a trail of blood everywhere.

He went a back way, not wanting everyone to see his bloodied-up omega. Johnny carried you like you were a feather, weaving through buildings like it was just another day. Well to him it probably was.

Luckily too many people weren't hanging out around your home, the few that did were ignored or met with a snarl. You whimpered at the sound, all your senses on overdrive. You could tell how upset Johnny was, even though you couldn't smell him. He was shaking, growls escaping him nearly every moment. “Almost there.” he soothed. He made it out of the elevator, slamming his key card against the sensor and throwing open the door.

He set you down on the kitchen counter, making no move to pull away from you. He needed to calm you down first.

“S’alright,” he repeated against your head. “I need you to relax for me, lass. Gonna get you all taken care of, aye?” he shut his eyes tightly, resting his body against yours. Your hands dug into his shirt, and you growled at the inability to smell him. “I know what’ll help.” he soothed. He pulled away causing you to whine, and he darted into John's room grabbing a shirt out of his dresser. He brought it back, holding it up towards your face. You were about to bury your face in it but stopped.

“I don't want to get it bloody.” you sobbed.

“He won't mind, bon. Plus we know how to get blood stains out.”

You didn't need to be told twice, you buried your face into the fabric, nuzzling up to Johnny again. After a few moments, your breathing returned to normal and the tears fell quietly. You were quivering now, the pain making up for the loss of adrenaline. “Gonna tell the rest, okay?” he asked, causing you to nod.

He grabbed his phone out of his pocket.

-come home asap. Omega emergency

He tossed the phone on the counter, pulling away from you, sitting down in one of the stools so he was almost face-to-face with you.

“Need you to tell me what happened,” he demanded softly. He kept his jacket pressed against your legs and used a sleeve to stop the bleeding of your elbow.

“I went to get water,” you whispered. Your eyes burned, now dry. “I heard someone walking so I started to leave then all of a sudden someone pushed me to the ground.” his face twitched, his jaw clenching so hard you worried for his teeth. “He grabbed my ankle and started pulling me back, but I turned around and scratched him across his face. One of them said something about 141 and then they ran away,” you explained.

“That’s good. Did exactly what you should've. This happen by the water fountain?” he asked.

“Mhhh,” you confirmed, wondering what he was getting at. The door swung open.

“Holy shit,” Kyle hissed, eyeing you up and down. He was a bit out of breath and you wondered if he ran all the way here like Johnny had. “Let me see.” he insisted, nearly pushing Johnny out of the way. He peeled away the sweatshirt and pulled John's shirt out of your hands.

“Some bastards shoved her.” Johnny snarled.

“By where you took me to see the birds,” you spoke up.

“They've got cameras.” Kyle said exactly what Johnny was thinking. “Should get it pulled up for when the alphas come.” As if on cue the door slammed open again.

“Where is sh”- John cut himself off. “Let me see.” he demanded, pushing Kyle out of the way. If you weren't in pain you would've laughed.

“Someone pushed me, Johnny’s trying to find it on the cameras.” you caught him up to speed. Simon moved towards Johnny glaring over his shoulder at the device. “It was my fault,” you whispered to John. Everyone's head snapped to you. John had your face in his hands, looking over your chin. “I went away from the group to get some water. I should've stayed with the”-

“You don't get to take credit for this.” John sneered. “I don't care where the hell you are, who you are around, this should never happen to you. Understand?” he ordered.

“Yes, Alpha,” you responded quickly.

“Don't make it a habit though,” Kyle spoke, hovering back over by you and John.

“Got it,” Johnny said. John left you but Kyle stayed.

“I'm gonna take a few pictures of you, love. Gotta keep the evidence,” he explained.

“Okay,” you replied softly. Your eyes trained on the three men watching the video. Johnny's face curled again, gripping his phone so tight his knuckles were white. Simon and John appeared to be fairly level-headed, trying to pick up on every detail.

“Record it before someone deletes it,” John instructed. John came back to you, pressing his lips against your forehead. “I’m going to go take care of a few things. Me and Simon’ll be back soon,” he spoke through gritted teeth, taking an inhale of your scent to prevent himself from shaking. He pulled away, Simon following behind him like a dog. “Send me the pictures after.”

“You did good, pup.” Simon praised, heading out the door with John.

Hi friends! Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Chapter 12 will be up in two days! See you then! 🧡

#novemberheart #captain john price #gaz x reader #ghost x reader #kyle gaz garrick #poly141 #price x reader #simon ghost riley #soap x reader #johnny soap mactavish #captain john price x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #johnny soap mactavish x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #as needed #cod men #cod x fem!reader #cod x reader #cod x you

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lookingforhappy · 3 months

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thnk u @air--so--sweet for pointing out the tua prop auction, i am obssessed so ofc im now writing up my own transcripts for stuff. i bet someone else has done this but i couldnt find it so here's my record of it:

this is from Reginald's red book in s1 (i presume the dates are written day/month/year as Reginald is english)

transcript:

"#00.01 Behaviour Part 4 -When given opportunity, he acts in accordance to my expectations, and to my instruction, and only to my expectation and instructions. Further experiments needed to figure out the extent of his blind loyalty. -Unknowable at this time if this productive for the cause or detrimental for the cause. 4/03/01 Conducted experiment in which I sent #00.01 to this woods to watch for threats. Not only did he not ask about said threats, he found ways to come up with his own possible threats. He stood watch in a weak, slight base camp from dawn until dusk, without asking if he should stay on overnight. He is still there. -Is it truly best to have the best follower be the leader??"

transcript:

"5/09/01 Another experiment conducted in which I gave #00.01 an unknowable mission, but this time had him try to lead the team in his cause. I instructed #00.01 to take the team and patrol the state beach. Up and down. Until the threat revealed itself. Within hours all members had referred to pursue mission on such little intel. #00.01 never stopped. Even after the pleading from #00.03. Whom usually shows an emotional weakness for. #00.03 Abilities Part 3 -Makes one wonder if she is all the Umbrella Academy really needs. -Her full potential makes the rest of the team look like an afterthought. -How can I convince her the team needs her? Confounded at not being able to capture a non-existent opponent flag. Their petty feud seems to know no bounds. But if the feud motivates #00.02 in a way to suceed in that types of scale, so be it. Work-load Capacity Ranking 1-#00.05 (negated by disregard for rules and safety) 2-#00.01 (enhanced by propensity to protect siblings) 3-#00.03 (strength in collaboration) 4-#00.06 (follower) 5-#00.04 (untapped and unfocused potential) 6-#00.02 (could be 1st or 6th depending on mood) Discipline Notes -Physical pain yields best results with males. -Emotional trauma yields best results with #00.03 and Klaus. Especially when inflicted on others. -Separation from group does not work on #00.02."

transcript:

"-Sensory Statistics -Visual - 21.4% -Auditory - 8.7% -Kinesthetic - 69.9% -Disorders -Likely tendency toward Oppositional Disorder (ODD) -Maternal family history of possible sociopathy (seems incongruent to dynamics with Seven; background research ongoing ref p.49) -Phobias -Darkness -Solitude -Binds Effective Behaviours Modification Techniques"

edit 03/07/2024: spelling corrections 😬

my thoughts beneath the cut:

Pic 1

interesting that Reginald seems more interested in Luther's psychology, and whether it's a mistake for him to be the leader due to his blind loyalty and strict adherence to instruction (to me, Luther reads as somewhat autistic here, following rules to the letter, but this could also be a result of childhood abuse).

Reginald's interest in Luther's blind loyalty, and experimenting on him to test where or if he has a limit on said loyalty, is very similar to the moon mission. Reginald said there was a purpose to it in s3, but maybe the purpose was testing the extent of Luther's loyalty. Maybe he was waiting to see at what point would Luther actually start to ask his father questions, or make requests of him or even outright defy him. We know Luther had started asking for more food, but maybe Reginald was pushing him further, to see at what point he'd ask to come home.

Since Reginald didn't send any of the Sparrows to the Moon it would seem like Luther's moon mission was unneccessary, but to Reginald there was nothing more important than training the children. Since Reginald seems to doubt whether having a Follower be a Leader, maybe he was trying to force Luther into a position that would help him learn how to use his own initiative?

Pic 2

this one is a gold mine.

Luther once again cannot not follow instruction or leave his work unfinished, but he's also considered to be very protective of his siblings by Reginald (which is a good thing in Reginald's books).

Allison is desperate for him to stop, but also seems like she has self-worth or anxiety issues that Reginald is unable to cure her of, likely related to her feeling like people would hate her if they knew the real her.

Diego's feud with Luther over being no.1 wasn't intentional on Reginald's side, but he didn't discourage it either as he felt it motivated Diego. Which is probably related to the fact that Diego doesn't seem to work well without the group. He also says Diego could be no.1 if he sorted out his emotions, but he ranks him in last.

Five is marked top of the group, above even Luther, but he's too opposed to rules and safety in Reginald's eyes.

Ben seems to be keeping quiet and doing as he's told, which also seems to be a good thing to Reginald.

also interesting that Klaus is referred to by name not number, and is grouped with Allison rather than with the "males".

I don't think "physical pain" refers to torture or corporal punishment, but perhaps exhaustion or intense physical regimines? Mostly because Reginald seems extremely hands off with the kids.

Pic 3

It doesn't say who this entry is about but "Oppositional Disorder" and "sociopathy" seems most consistent with Five. and now that we know his mother was a butcher, she seems the most likely candidate to have been thought a sociopath.

(edit: Although, Klaus is also suggested to have ODD in S3, this doesn't seem consistent with the earlier entry mentioning he is more receptive to emotional pain and pain inflicted on others, than to physical pain inflicted to himself. Plus, Rachel seems very emotionally intelligent, and this entry points out a positive relationship with Viktor which has always been more Five's thing)

I don't agree with the sociopath diagnosis, but it seems Reginald is hestitant to diagnose it in the first place since he notes that Five has a good relationship with Viktor, probably meaning he's not devoid of empathy.

the Phobias is also interesting. Darkness, Solitude and Binds all suggest he was forced into similar situations as Klaus and Viktor, where he had to use his powers to escape cramped conditions. the fact that he notes Solitude is one of his phobias is also v sad all things considered. plus the fact that Five is the only Brelly to sleep on a separate floor to the other 6 siblings - maybe this was Reginald's attempt to cure him of this phobia?

#tua #the umbrella academy #luther hargreeves #reginald hargreeves #tua prop auction #diego hargreeves #allison hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #five hargreeves #ben hargreeves #viktor hargreeves #transcript

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listles-s · 5 months

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man laios and toshiro's/shuro's dynamic is incredibly compelling to me on multiple levels

when you look at them, you can see the cultural and personal barriers that drive almost every single aspect of their relationship, both positively and negatively. laios is incredibly outspoken and driven by his passions, which he expresses freely even in the face of annoyance and/or criticism- he's allowed to be as authentically himself as he pleases, and it's this drive that allows him and the others to survive as long as they have, especially due to the fact that these passions and interests are intertwined with his skills as a dungeon diver. toshiro, in contrast, is incredibly reserved, not only due to his eastern upbringing but also his status as nobility- a combo of cultures that both demand that one save face, to avoid conflict at any cost, even at the expense of one's own feelings and individuality. this, in turn, has made toshiro the perfect samurai, as he's politely-spoken, agreeable, and an honorable, skilled man. both are also incredibly devoted to falin on different levels, having come to accomplish the same mission of her rescue despite drifting apart from the party.

on the flipside, it's these same strengths that cause them to clash- laios is outspoken but unable to truly decipher the emotions of others, leading to a lot of false assumptions and frustration from those who interact with him. toshiro is stoic but to the point of complacency, leading to a aggressively neutral disposition that's ushered by the needs and wants of others, rather than himself. neither man truly knows where they stand with the people important to them in their lives, and hold the ones that they do know how they feel with a fierce admiration expressed in ways that aren't always traditional.

in the end, they both share a growing feeling of isolation from other people that comes to a head when they meet again in the depths of the dungeon, and they both have different ways of coping with the frustrations that arise, seeing the other as only the things they have seen face to face.

it's laios' ability to express himself emotionally without consequence that sparks jealousy in toshiro, leading to a physical fight born out of miscommunication and envy. while toshiro is a driving force in the conflict, it should be noted that the actual fight is started by laios, breaking the dam of indirect communication through force. nothing is more direct than a slap to the face, and it's only after they start hitting each other that toshiro's true feelings come to light.

however, at the end of it all, toshiro is the one who stops torturing himself, listening to laios and giving him the bell, allowing laios and his party entrance into his homeland should they need it, and ultimately giving him support in his mission to defeat the dungeon mage, albeit in his own way. despite it all, they're still good friends with a conflict that boiled over, but came out the other end with a slightly better understanding of each other. the fight was painful for both of them, but it was a necessity for their dynamic to improve, and for them to be made aware of their faults and improve as individuals as well.

but also, if you think about it, their dynamic is literally just this

#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #laios touden #laios dungeon meshi #toshiro nakamoto #shuro #shuro dungeon meshi #character analysis #anyways toshiro haters with surface level takes get the hell off my lawn boy #i hope you know this entire character analysis was born out of the realization that i'd seen this dynamic before in a different light #and i thought. man. what is the funniest comparison i could make here rn. and i'm still right abt it btw #oh yeah also of course the autism read is still there #as an autistic person myself they don't read at all like neurotypical v autism. they read a LOT more like autism v autism #you know how people with autism either get along REALLY well with other people with autism or repel each other with a force #yeah they're basically that. to me #reading toshiro as autistic with the immigrant lens btw makes him even more compelling to read that way #but that is an analysis for another time #man i missed writing these #dungeon meshi spoilers #i should tag this actually. bc i’m right #laishuro

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daturabouquet · 1 month

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Thank goodness it's just a dream..

[Dottore x Fem!Reader angst, Warnings: Assisted suicide, mentioned torture, breach of privacy, toxic relationship dynamic, stalking]

Dottore's brutality and emotional/physical torment has gone so far that even just being around him scares you, you get panic attacks whenever there's just a slight look of displeasure in his face, nightmares of him and so on. You had no privacy of thought either; he has a "rewired" Akasha terminal hooked on you, he can read your mind as much as he pleases. He knew exactly how you felt yet he didn't care.

Until you asked for your Harbinger friend to take your life and end all of your suffering. Fatui Harbingers have protection against other Fatui Harbingers, they can't hurt one another so they will have no consequence for killing you.

Unfortunately, Dottore found out on the day of the supposed execution. He barged in and stopped Pantalone from ending you.

"What in the hells were you thinking?!"

"Shh, don't be so loud, you're going to wake her. And this is her wish, can't you see how much pain you've caused her?"

"I know what I did, and they deserved every single bit of it. Besides, she seems fairly content with our life together."

"I would believe otherwise, Doctor. Death is her best choice."

Pantalone reloaded the gun once more.

"I will not let you live for another day if you pull that trigger, Banker. I will ruin every aspect of your life and everything you've worked for."

"You can't do that thanks to Her Highness' policy. Unless you'd like to spar with the Tsaritsa herself?"

"Drop the gun, Banker."

"Only if you'll strike a deal for me..."

"Name your price."

"Put (name) back in her bed in her hometown in Sumeru, and make her believe every second she was here was a dream. Keep your "improved" Akasha on her, if she's in despair that everything was a dream, we'll bring her back here. Otherwise, if she jumps with joy because all her pain was just a dream... you set her free."

"Set her free? What kind of bargain is this, Banker?"

"A good one. Either you agree, Doctor... or I'll pull the trigger."

You wake up in Sumeru, very disoriented as you take in your surroundings... huh, your hometown... in your bed... in your house? You scratch your head in confusion... Weren't you asleep in the Zapolyarny Palace last night? But you feel... fresh, like you've woken up from a loooong sleep... Wait, was everything just a dream? Your wedding with Dottore, the torture, the love, everything was it just a dream...? You're trying to absorb all of this... but once you're over it, you jump in joy that everything was just a dream.

At this moment, somewhere in Zapolyarny Palace, the Second fatui harbinger slams his fist into his desk, your point of view from your "Akasha" displayed on a screen in front of him.

"(name)... after everything I did for you..."

He'll do whatever it takes, to get you back. He grabs a blank book and scribbles down in a hurry;

"Project (First Name) (Last Name)."

And he breaks his pen, blotting the end of the sentence with the ink. He will make sure you run back to him, but for now... you're strolling in the Grand Bazaar conversing with the vendors, not noticing your Akasha was a slightly different shade of green.

#dottore #dottore headcanons #dottore genshin impact #dottore x reader #genshin impact #dottore genshin #genshin x reader #genshin headcanons #genshin impact x reader #dottore brainrot #dottore x female reader #pantalone #fatui harbingers #genshin impact fatui

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sillybruja · 4 months

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Synastry Observations: Frenemy/"enemy" edition part 1

DISCLAIMER: I am not a professional astrologer, this purely my observation based on repetitive patterns I notice within the signs, placements, houses etc. Take what I say with a grain of salt and understand not every astrology observation will resonate.

↳Heavy 8th House Synastry and/or negatively aspected 2H synastry↴

This one is a doosey. Personally, I never had 8H synastry with anyone that I have ever considered a friend, but I have seen this play out with other friendships. This synastry can suggest an imbalance of give and take, as well as a friendship that can be "obsessive". Feelings of jealousy, envy, and even resentment build over time. I've seen this also manifest as jealousy over the person's other friends, family, and sometimes even romantic partners. Very karmic & a difficult bond to break, but it could also be very emotionally harmful. It also highly depends on the emotional state of the people involved, especially the emotional state of the house person as they seem to be the most "reactive" in this situation.

↳Sun/Moon/Mercury/Venus in 12H↴

These placements can definitely indicate secrecy created in a friendship dynamic. Either the friendship itself is kept secret, or one/both parties feel suspicious of the other, no matter how much time has passed or trust has been earned. Another heavily karmic synastry aspect to have. Usually the planet person is more aware of the pain each other causes, but the house person also feels the intensity. A lot can be ruined due to misunderstandings with this placement, but in the same regard -- this placement does also indicate two people who are magnetically connected, but eventually have their perception of each other morphed over time into something more negative. Truth be told, both parties see each other in a more "tainted" and deluded way as time goes on because both parties are secretive about their suspicions. Suspicion left undiscussed only has room to grow. Not always the case, but when this manifests in an "ex-friendship" or in a synastry chart of frenemies, its easier to see the ways either one or both have deceived each other in a connection. I've also noticed specifically with Moon/Mercury (sometimes venus) in 12H synastry shows how one person "prys" in the other's life. For example, having Mercury in 12H synastry could mean that one person oversteps and over-inquires about the other. Maybe this person listens to, inspires, encourages, or spreads misinformation about the other. Or, this person generally feels "superior" in the themes of mercury like communication, travel, intelligence, logic, etc. It also gives "pick me" vibes, or like those female friends you have that enjoy laughing at you or embarrassing you around others for validation. Icky.

↳Chiron conjunct personal planets and/or the nodes↴

These aspects are the definition of fated to me. When this is present in the chart of two frenemies, I know these two really hurt each other in various ways. When its chiron conjunct sun/moon for instance, I see a lot of damage to the ego, and self-confidence when dealing with each other. One person feels massively insecure in the presence of the other, and in enemy cases, its almost as if one person (usually chiron person) clings onto sun person even if chiron person harbors hate, bitterness, or resentment towards the sun person. Chiron conjunct personal planets can bring a lot of instability on so many levels -- on a soul level, physical / material level, emotional level, 3D, 5D etc etc. These connections are usually very painful because at one point in time, these two individuals could have been very close or trusted each other, and things took a left turn when both began to trigger each other. I've also seen this in complicated friendships where the two are not exactly true friends, or honest/genuine friends to each other, but there's a weird sense of loyalty toward one another. Maybe you two are in secret competition, and you feel the other person does not like you. Typically you would end communication with someone like this, but with this person, you find excuses for them and reasons to remain in their energy. kinda odd tbh. Chiron conjunct the nodes says all the same but speaks more so to the soul missions of the individuals. This could mean you both agreed to be here to have problems and to learn lessons together lol. But with chiron conjunct NN/SN, the connection will feel very electric but will most likely fizzle out over time.

↳Busy 3H synastry / lilth 3H / Chiron 3H / Pluto 3H / Neptune 3H↴

Ugh, the gossip. The lies. The bullying. the fakeness. This synastry is like toxic sibling rivalry except they're supposed to your friend. When you have this synastry with a frenemy, you will experience a lot of bs from them and vice versa. These placements also suggest heavy gossip about each other and usually what's being talked about involves the rough stuff. I am talking, the stuff you told this person with confidence that they'd never tell a soul. These people can hit below the belt when they're scorned. I've seen these enemies being very direct towards each other as well, so not only is there open gossip involved, this person will also own up to it! They're the type to be like "yeah b!tcH! I said that. Do you want me to repeat myself??" very confrontational, which could also lead to yelling matches or serious mutual moments of rage. Lilith in 3H is roughest when it comes to exposing the other person's darkness when scorned. When you have this aspect with someone, you should probably be cautious of what you tell them because you might think they forgot, but really, they just stored it in the back of their mind to use for later. Pluto 3H will force one or both people to evolve in terms of how they communicate -- harsh lessons about communication, connection, community, and even relationships with others come from this aspect. Chiron in 3H (and even Neptune 3H) will really put you through the ringer. You will have to go through hardships that can constantly trigger your communication and intelligence wound with this person. One last thing I have noticed is that these people were (or still are to a weird degree) typically close to the point where their families are very intertwined with one another. This can manifest as one or both of them getting each other's families (specifically cousins and siblings) involved with their drama, or "picking sides".

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always-andromeda · 4 months

Text

𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐫

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ⟡ Javi Gutierrez x F!Reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ⟡ 2,685

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 ⟡ A lull in your relationship with Javi leads to some revelations about both of your interests.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ⟡ so this was a new one for me. this piece is part of @iamasaddie's kinky writing challenge for May and my pairing was Javi G with impact play. I am happy to report that I enjoyed researching this more than I thought I would? I found some really interesting kink blogs that kind of walked me through safe practices and it started to paint the picture in my mind that would become this fanfic. big disclaimer: I've never practiced impact play in real life. my depiction of it comes primarily from the research I've done and what I know of my own personal preferences and I've tried my best to depict a healthy dynamic. so if I'm getting something wrong or I'm depicting anything in an unhealthy way, feel free to let me know!! divider credits go to @saradika-graphics!!

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ⟡ smut (minors, do not interact), impact play, oral (female receiving), aftercare, pet names (hermosa, baby), reader is given no physical description aside from being able bodied, allusions to past negative experiences with sex (nothing specific is described), a little bit of soft!dom/switch Javi, please let me know if any more are needed!

It’s not that you weren’t satisfied with Javi. The sex had almost always been fine. Hell, most times it was fantastic; better than anything you’d had before. There certainly wasn’t any love lost between you and him. You’d always adore him and the beautiful life you’d built with him by the sea in Mallorca.

At first you thought it might have been the passing of time that spurred this particular…yearning. After all, don’t most couples go through these patches after a few years? But it quickly became apparent that this wasn’t a fleeting desire. Days passed and you kept going back to the same blog: Impact Play For Beginners.

The first time you’d stumbled across it, you hadn’t paid it much mind. You were looking for ways to spice things up with Javi. But it didn’t seem like him. As your eyes flitted over images of paddles, whips, and canes, all you could think of was how uncomfortable he’d most likely be. The idea of that turned you off, of course.

But you didn’t stay off for very long at all.

Perhaps it was the fact that he felt so safe that made the idea so enticing to begin with. You’d never been with anyone who approached sex as healthily as Javi did. He’d always been fervent with his desires. At the same time, he’d never made you feel like you had to do anything. There was always foreplay, regular check-ins, aftercare, and the ability to say no to whatever, whenever.

It was refreshing. Relieving. And that’s what made it so rough, thinking about possibly bringing something new into the equation. But, Javi had always been big on communication. You trusted that the same principles would apply here. So that’s why you brought it up.

Javi had been open but hesitant about it. At face value, this kink really wasn’t his style. He favored a softer approach. He couldn’t imagine laying a hand on you and causing any sort of harm. But in all honesty…the idea excited you.

The more you looked into it, the more you began to draw some hard lines in the sands of your mind. First and foremost, no toys. As exciting as a crop looked, you weren’t sure if you were prepared for that. At least not yet. For now, you were sticking with the advice of various kink blogs you’d scrolled through and starting off with hands only. Not only were those the instruments that piqued your interest in the first place, they also put you the most at ease. It felt poetic somehow; his usually gentle hands delivering both pleasure and pain this time.

Another aspect you started to delve into were on and off limit body parts. That was the moment Javi set a boundary of his own. “Nothing with your face. I’m not touching your gorgeous face, hermosa,” he’d said with the softest puppy dog eyes. And you didn’t argue. You weren’t feeling comfortable with that either.

No, you’d start out in the safest zones possible, the places that would be least likely to get injured: your ass and thighs.

Then came the scheduling. You both agreed on a weekend night just so there was an adequate amount of time for recovery before either of you had to worry about work.

You stand in front of the vanity mirror in your bedroom. Part of you feels like you’re standing on the edge of a cliff as you stare at the lingerie clad figure being reflected back at you. With the night that’s ahead of you, you figured it’d be safest to wear something you’re familiar with sans the bottoms for easier access. It’s a simple chemise that’s comfortable enough, yet it hugs your body in a way that you know both you and Javi enjoy. You try to focus on that thought as you think.

The most reassuring part is that you aren’t afraid. As much as you’d wanted this, you’d also wondered if you would be. Instead you’re all raw nerves. And the electricity thrumming from them only calms when Javi appears in the mirror behind you.

You watch his dark eyes trace over your body in the mirror. It’s a sight he’s seen probably hundreds of times at this point, yet he still looks like it’s the first time he’s laid eyes on you.

“You are so beautiful, hermosa,” Javi breathes out in genuine awe. “Gorgeous.”

Your cheeks warm at the dose of flattery.

Javi’s hands start at your shoulders and you relax into them. The heels of his palms knead the muscles that seem to be perpetually knotted up. You close your eyes and picture that taut tissue slowly and carefully unwinding itself. A small sigh escapes you. It sows hope within you knowing that he’s willing to step out of his comfort zone for this. But it also brings you comfort; he’ll always take care of you just like this.

“Are we doing okay, so far?” Javi mumbles.

You stifle a small laugh and the urge to say, “We’ve barely started anything.”

Because you know this is new for him. You try to remember that you’re new at this too. Don’t go too far, too fast. Pace yourself, you say internally.

“We’re alright,” you finally assure him.

“Promise me you’ll use your safe word if you need to.”

You meet his gaze in the mirror. He eyes you with furrowed brows and his lips in a thin line. His hands still work at your shoulders; work you into the most soothing rhythm that makes you want to fall asleep. But the fire that fills your bones makes you feel more alive than ever.

You nod and then turn to face him. “I will. I promise.”

Your hands find his cheeks and cup them. In that moment you’re holding your entire world. And you’re trusting him to fulfill some of your most vulnerable fantasies.

Your lips meet his and it all starts to fall together. He’s warm and tastes vaguely of citrus. His hands land on the globes of your ass and he gives them a good squeeze. A moan slowly rises in his throat. If there was one thing you knew Javi was looking forward to, it was paying more attention to that part of you. Besides, there was no way you could miss the way he looked at the pictures on one of the kink blogs you’d scrolled through together. Shots of a woman’s back. Bright red marks in the shape of a hand on her ass.

His eyes had been so wide, simply staring at them as you read through tips for beginners.

“You wouldn’t want marks like that…would you?” he’d asked then.

The note of hopefulness in his voice was palpable. He’d never been good at concealing his emotions, especially around you.

“I don’t know…maybe,” you’d replied coyly before admitting, “I kind of like the idea of it. Of having that reminder of you.” As if everything else wasn’t enough. As if you needed to see the evidence of his love represented by blemishes on your skin. That was the thing about Javi though, his whole being was so infectious. You needed him to inhabit every part of your life. You needed to see his handprints on you like you needed to breathe.

Anticipation sends a shiver up your spine as you lay on your stomach along the foot of the bed you share with him. Propped up on your elbows, you arched your back in order to better present your ass to him.

He takes a moment to lean over your form. You already feel a bit of a bulge poke the back of your thighs. At least he’s starting to enjoy himself, you grin.

“Are you ready to begin?” Javi asks. You hum absently only to be met with a brief pause before he adds, “Words, hermosa. Words.”

“Yes, sir,” you say, voice raised louder this time. You don’t see his expression, but you can imagine the way it stutters based on the silence that follows.

Javi thankfully doesn’t leave you with too much time to second guess yourself before you hear his chuckle, “Very good job. I’m already so proud of you.”

He stands again and continues gentle ministrations on your upper thighs. Once again you feel as though you could simply fall asleep. And there’s something secure in feeling like you could. You’re safe.

A pleasant flush builds on the surface of your skin. You can feel the blood coursing through your veins as Javi warns, “I’m going to give you the first strike. Then we’ll go from there, alright?”

“Alright. I’m ready,” you affirm. And you mean it.

A few seconds later, you feel a light slap on your ass. It’s almost playful. And it doesn’t satisfy the craving within. You start to squirm, hoping to suppress some of the restlessness brewing in your chest.

“Easy, hermosa. Good girls stay patient,” Javi says. You’re not quite used to hearing such language come from him. But it’s perfectly in line with his desire to care for you. It’s how you feel confident that you’re both on the same page. He doesn’t want you overwhelming yourself either. So despite the soft start, you don’t feel any disappointment.

You do what you’re told and stay patient.

The slaps don’t startle you until one leaves a particular sting that awakens a heartbeat in your core. For the moment it lives, it means everything to you. The initial jolt, along with that expectant throb, subsides a little too quickly for your liking. You fist the silk sheets beneath you just to find purchase in something.

“Keep going like that,” you whisper breathlessly, wanting to chase that feeling to the ends of the Earth.

And Javi lets you. He slaps your ass once, twice, three more times and each one builds the heat that crackles along your flesh like thunderclaps. On the fourth slap you finally gasp a small, “Fuck.” You feel yourself clench around nothing. But Javi still groans as if he was inside you.

“You like this, hm?” he growls.

“So fucking much,” you whimper.

Smack.

The impact is hard enough that it makes you jump. More importantly, you feel that throb once more. Your belly fills with butterflies as you start to realize that it’s fucking working for you.

You try to imagine what you must look like from his point of view. Ass up, head bowed, gasping between blows. You bet that based on your position, from where he stands, he’s probably getting a peek at your cunt too. And if it looks anything like it feels, you’ve got to be glistening. You’ve got to have the most inviting look about you. And the fact that that vulnerability still doesn’t scare you…your head feels lost in the clouds.

You feel Javi’s fingers drag over the curve of your ass before they stop just short of your cunt. He says suddenly, “Fuck, I need you. I need to taste you. Please?” he begs.

All you can manage is a whine along with a swift nod before rolling around on your back. Just as quickly, Javi is on his knees, dragging you down the bed by your ankles until he’s almost face to face with your cunt. You can feel just how swollen your lips are. And as he begins to lap at your slick, you know that you haven’t gotten this wet in a while. It fulfills something inside you that you hadn’t expected.

Your thighs and your ass burn, but it only adds to the pleasure gradually filling your belly. The pain and pleasure come together in a gorgeous harmony that has your hips rocking along against Javi’s mouth. His warm tongue fucks you as your clit rubs against his nose. It’s a classic position that’s only heightened with the knowledge that when you wake up in the morning, his handprints are going to be on your ass.

You’re shamelessly rutting against him now. Fingers knitted through his hair, you ride out the mounting pressure like you’ll die if you don’t. And Javi – being the pleaser he is – enjoys it. Between breaths, he groans, sending vibrations through you that seem to rattle your bones.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you whine.

“Mhm,” Javi hums desperately. “Go ahead, you can get there, hermosa. Just use me, please.”

Tears start to slip down the sides of your temples. Flashes of all the men you’ve been with before fill your head. You think of all the times you weren’t in control. All the times you felt you didn’t have a say in what was going to happen to your own body. And those memories only remind you that none of that is true anymore. Right here and right now, you’re with Javi. And he’s indulged in something you would’ve been too afraid to express to anyone else. All he wants is to please you. And that only makes your tears flow faster.

You’re going to combust. Javi Gutierrez is going to make you fucking explode and you don’t even care. You’ve gotten yours. As long as he too gets to feel the impact of his kindness, you’re satisfied.

Just like that, the bomb goes off and you’re on fire as pleasure rips through you. You’re in pieces. Legs wrapped around Javi’s upper half, heels digging into the muscles of his back, and hands keeping him held in place; keeping what’s left of you together in a shaky embrace.

It takes a few seconds for the shock to melt away. Somehow you catch your breath and finally remove your hands from Javi’s curls to wipe away your tears. If you weren’t tired before, you’re exhausted now. More than the physical satisfaction, you couldn’t have foreseen the emotional release.

Your ass and your thighs don’t quite hurt anymore. It’s more of a soft ache; a rolling wave you ride on until it passes, leaving your head floating in a placid ocean of bliss. This naturally comes with some swirls of catharsis and sentimentality. They both buzz in your mind and you're only distantly aware of it when Javi gets up to wet a washcloth.

When he returns, he cleans you up the way he always does. Asking if he’s alright to touch you in various places and letting you know before he does so you’re not startled. You pay just enough attention to hum in agreement as he carefully parts your thighs to wipe up the remnants of slick and spit.

Javi finishes the job a minute or two later, leaving once more to add the washcloth to the laundry basket in your closet. Then you feel the mattress dip as Javi lays beside you, looking spent without even taking off a shred of his own clothing.

You return to your own mind for a moment. Enough to turn, lay on your side, and send him a worried look. “Oh, I’m so sorry, baby. Do you need me to take care of you?”

Javi laughs lightly, “No. It’s alright, hermosa. You don’t need to take care of anything for me.”

“Are you sure?”

A soft smile forms on his face. “You’re happy, right?”

You nod.

“Good. I’m happy too. We don’t need anything else.”

Javi tenderly places a hand on your lower back and pulls you a little closer towards his chest, his grin growing. “Besides, I can’t wait to see those marks in the morning.”

His expression is so contagious you can’t help but return it before placing a kiss on his nose. “Me neither,” you whisper. Within a few days those marks he most certainly left would start to take on a purple hue before fading into a yellowish undertone. The prospect of seeing that progression fills your stomach with butterflies once more. Surely you both prepared enough that they wouldn’t take long to heal. But that doesn’t bring you down in the slightest. Because as long as Javi is willing to, when those marks do go away, you and him get to make them all over again.

Thank you so much for reading!! If you enjoyed, please consider reblogging; it's massively appreciated!!

#˚ʚ meda writes ɞ˚#javi gutierrez #javi gutierrez x f!reader #javi gutierrez x reader #javi gutierrez x you #javi gutierrez x y/n #javi gutierrez smut #the unbearable weight of massive talent #the unbearable weight of massive talent fanfic

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brucewaynehater101 · 5 months

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Apologies if I'm remembering wrong but I recall you posting/reblogging a post of Tim being afraid for Damian after he became Robin, thinking Red Hood would redirect his ire to him

Let's expand on that, Damian finding out about all the horrible shit Tim went through and put himself through and beginning to dread being Robin more and more but not wanting to take it back because he doesn't want to add onto Tim's pain

((and also because giving up robin would make him look week, but that's just an excuse))

So Damian is wrecked with anxiety because when is the hammer gonna drop and he'll receive what Tim did?

And if Tim's inheritance is going to be his, that means inheriting all the labor he is endures when running Wayne Enterprises, and etc

And Damian—wrong as he is—thinking himself selfish for hoping Tim stays in the family just so the day he inherits his duties comes later

Damian bonding with Tim over pain the latter experienced and the former is certain he will as well

((and also imagine what will go through Damian's head if he were to find out Tim doesn't even consider himself an actual Wayne member and just a Placeholder to keep the family from crumbling to pieces like that other post, a Placeholder until Jason and Damian came))

((and suddenly his assassination attempts seem like all for nothing and even self-sabotage, woof))

Hello! It seems that there are two of my posts you're referring to here (which is super super cool). This is going to be a long post cause it inspired me to really look at their dynamic and explore it.

One post talks about how Tim became Red Robin and didn't choose another mantle. There's a few reasons for this (like not being able to step down from his role of helping Bruce), but the reason you're referring to is another theory of mine. Tim may be Red Robin to share the burden and pain being Robin entails. He doesn't want Damian to face it alone. By being Red Robin, he can shoulder some of the ire from Batman.

The other post has Tim, who signed himself up to being Jason's placeholder both in an out of the mask, seeing himself as worthless and temporary. Both of his roles, being Jason and being Robin, got filled by Jason and Damian later.

Now that we've got the background, I absolutely love your take on this. I will add a few fics that expand on this view, but I do want to talk about it more first.

Unfortunately, Damian is used to a lot of abuse before coming to live with the Waynes (I love good mom Talia, but training to be an assassin is still abuse. She could have good reasons, but it still hurt Damian). He probably felt that he needed to earn his place and fulfill his familial role as Robin. Even as he matures and heals a bit, he may be reluctant to let Robin go. That type of training and enforced dedication to family is not simple to let go (even from a purely emotional abuse standpoint without any of the physical abuse he likely endured [This can be another thing he shares with Tim and his reluctantance to let Red Robin go]).

Kids, like Damian, will see others in similar situations and try to avoid their fate.

What is more likely? Tim is just special in being a target of isolation and abuse, or that Damian could one day be treated the same?

There's a ton of interesting theories about roles within abusive families (my family was emotionally abusive fyi). The sad part is that some of the kids will follow the example of their parents and abuse their siblings. This is both because parents model behavior and as a survival technique to not become the scapegoat like that one sibling. Damian may have joined in on being verbally abusive for both of these reasons (as well as being an extremely traumatized kid lashing out).

As he grows older and gains perspective (as well as distance from his LoA days), he may reflect on his behavior and the treatment of Tim. Tim is also the closest in age to Damian. He might be around physically more than the other siblings (besides Duke). Perhaps Duke even points out the differential treatment. There's a lot of ways that the metaphorical ball could get rolling.

This could be where Damian starts to regret his actions toward Tim. It may start from a selfish place (which, survival is not selfish and being selfish isn't always bad) of Damian realizing the assassination attempts are self-sabotage (and I love this idea and reflection on Damian). This would then morph into a genuine relationship and reliance on Tim.

I imagine, with these circumstances, that Tim becomes an anchor and safe point for Damian. All of the siblings have varying effects on the others, but this would be separate from that. While Dick is Damian's harbor, Tim would be closer to a lighthouse protecting Damian from the rocky shoreline. Dick is a place to rest and heal. Tim is a warning and guide (feel free to reblog with how the other batkids would be with Damian or each other).

Continually, Damian wanting Tim to stick around the family for his own safety hurts like hell. This casts the older sibling guilt (of leaving your siblings behind in that damn house) in a younger sibling's shame. Depending on the age, the younger sibling might be angry the older left or ashamed they want to ask in the first place. As a middle child, that fucking hurts (my situation is a bit more nuanced than that, but fuck. Ow).

Anyways, tons of angst to explore there on both of their parts.

I sincerely hope that Damian gets a life outside of WE. I hope he at least has time to explore himself (and maybe get a different career) before ever taking up WE. Depending on Tim's role in WE, this may fuck him over. I would be down to read some fics that explore Tim struggling under WE (cause he was meant for the research labs and not meeting rooms) and his refusal to step down due to the pressure that would put on Damian's shoulders (I know Tim isn't actually CEO in canon, but it's good to explore how the expectation of taking up the family business affects sibling dynamics).

Fic rec time! All are on AO3

"Exit Strategy" by smilebackwards (Tim's plan to leave the Waynes creates the ability for Damian and Tim to bond [not that Damian knows this is the plan]. Hurt ensues).

"Taming a Baby Assassin" by nighttmr (Tim, after being notified that he's getting a younger sibling with Damian, decides he'll be a big brother regardless of the effort required).

"Some Common Ground" by Do_wa_diddy (Both Damian and Tim are used to cruel standards of training. The others do not understand this and try to limit how they train. This causes Tim and Damian to bond).

"Just Like the Movies" by faithms (Damian finds a flash drive of all the times Bruce has been horrible to Tim).

"The Study of Birds" by MaskoftheRay (Tim and Damian find a common interest in bird watching. It shows them slowly becoming closer despite the obstacles).

Last one:

"You'll Change Your Name or Change Your Mind (previous title: Tim Drake Learns to Set Boundaries)" series by samsamiam.

I wholeheartedly recommend this series. Basically, Tim sets boundaries for himself while offering Damian sanctuary (should the kid need). It becomes Tim protecting Damian even from Bruce. Very very very good.

#dc comics #dc universe #tim drake #damian wayne #damian wayne angst #tim and damian #tim drake angst #thank you for the ask!!!!

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taintedcigs · 1 year

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eddie w tattoo artist reader..... trying SO hard to seem like he's not dying from pain while she tattoos his chest, bc he's trying to impress her. she's the coolest girl he's ever seen and the fact that her art is on him forever makes him so giddy and happy, almost as happy as getting her number

call me if you need a groupie — e.m.

yes yes yes yes yes. a thousand times yes to this. thank u for this request omg i looooove lovesick cutie eddie soooooo much. this was meant to be a blurb but now its a 2.8k+ fic oops. idk if there were exclusive shirts ok i tried to do my research but this is the best i could get and idk how tattoo processes are so take everything i wrote w a grain of salt !! not proofread as always so ignore any mistakes and also idk why but i looved writing for this dynamic and if anyone would be interested i could write a pt.2 for some smut !! (maybe sub!eddie or switch!eddie? 👀)

pairing: eddie munson x fem!tattoo artist!reader (wc: 2.8k+)

warnings: MINORS DNI w any of my works!!. just pure fluff!! maybe the teeniest tiniest angst, eddie is kinda insecure <3, eddie is a lovesick cutie honey pie !! and swearing? oh also tattooing ofc (needles n stuff)

He doesn't mean to flinch, he doesn't mean to show you how stressed he is, but you can sense it.

Each time the needle presses against his skin, he hisses, mouth biting onto his lips, harsh enough to draw blood.

But Eddie doesn’t care, you—the hottest and coolest girl—that has ever graced the hellhole that was Hawkins was tattooing him, and Eddie couldn’t afford to look like a coward.

So with everything in him, he shut his lips, biting on them, becoming accustomed to the metallic taste because it didn’t matter, not when you looked so fucking pretty when cooing him and your free hand squeezed his biceps for reassurance.

He didn’t know what to admire first, the way your lips quirked sweetly when you answered his dumb questions, the way you looked so focused with your lip between your teeth, trying to tattoo him, or the fact that you were wearing an Anthrax shirt, and not just any regular Anthrax shirt that you could find at those regular shops, it was an exclusive shirt that was only sold at the concerts, and he had to gulp physically at that.

You were a tattoo artist… and a metal fan? How perfect could you get?

Before his questions were answered, the needle pricked at his skin again, he cursed out, and instead of screaming in his mind, he whimpered out loud this time.

Your head perked up quickly and Eddie was now cursing himself, for being a fucking idiot, for looking like a coward in front of you.

“I can slow down if you want to,” You said with a smile, a sweet smile that adorned your perfectly red lips, they looked so fucking kissable.

“N–no!” He stuttered, but you gave him a huff. “C’mon Eds, you’re doing good… better than anyone I’ve ever tattooed has, we can slow down a bit.” You reassured.

His eyes lit up like a child, Eds? His new acquired nickname rolled off your tongue so sweetly, your words dripped in honey. And Eddie decided he would do anything to hear you call him that again.

Not only did you call him Eds, but you also said he was better than the others, and the childish grin on Eddie’s lips was quick to grow again, his entire body relaxing as he almost melted into you.

“You think so?” He asked, tone giddy and all sweet, causing a pretty giggle to escape your lips.

“I know so!” You hummed. “Tattooed a guy yesterday. He was tall. Like really fucking tall, and he had this long beard and tattoos everywhere!” You exaggerated, watching Eddie’s eyes widen. “He cried like a baby the second that needle prickled his skin!”

“And look at you, taking everything I’m giving you like a champ,” You winked.

If only you knew the affect you had on him, Eddie’s entire face grew red at that, he would, without hesitation take anything you gave him.

He tried, so fucking hard not to think about it, but now his mind was filled with the images of you, sitting on his faze, your pretty cunt glistening as he lapped away at your juices.

He imagined those pretty manicured fingers discarding his hair, ruffling while those pretty little lips were hung open, chanting his name. Your whines and whimpers would fill the room as he begged for you to cum in his mouth. He wouldn’t stop until you smothered him.

Until all he could taste was you.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts, because the blood was quick to rush to his cock, and he didn’t want to have his bulge hardening against his tight pants anymore than he needed to, you were inches away from him and he wanted to seem cool–so fucking badly.

“Really?” He asked, and you nodded swiftly. “So brave for me.” You coo, lips lightly brushing against his cheek, as you plant a little kiss.

And Eddie was sure this was heaven now, he blinked quickly to make sure he wasn't dreaming, the light kiss you left on his cheeks lingered, and he could feel it burn.

His cheeks were purely crimson red now, he couldn't fucking help it. He ached for you, ached to have you close to him, ached to feel your touch, and everything you did was enough to drive him crazy, make him feel out of his fucking mind.

He was putty in your hands and you had no fucking idea.

His mouth stood agape, a dumbfounded look overtaking his features for too fucking long until the soft buzz of the machine brought him back again, the needle quick to puncture the skin's surface again, causing Eddie to squeeze his eyes shut as he tried his best not to fucking scream.

Be cool, be cool, be fucking cool Edward Munson.

He repeated it like a mantra in his head, and he was glad you were focusing on tattooing the cute sketch you made for him, and not his actual face that probably looked straight out of a horror movie.

“So—uh... c—cool shirt,” Eddie muttered, voice so low that he was surprised when you hummed back at him.

“Oh, yeah,” You muttered.

“You listen to Anthrax?” You asked with a beaming smile, gaze still focused on Eddie's arm.

Eddie huffed painfully but realized quickly that the nervousness of talking to you was overpowering the pain of the tattoo gun drilling into his skin.

“Are you kidding? Anthrax, Judas Priest, Black Sabbath... Megadeth! You name it I probably listen to it,” He hummed, and your eyes glimmered, causing Eddie's breath to hitch and his wavering nervousness to appear again. “Metal is my jam, baby!” He exclaimed, not too loud to disturb your tattooing process but loud enough to cause a giggle out of you.

Metal is my jam? Baby? Who the fuck says that?

Eddie was afraid to look into your eyes now, afraid to see the gaze everyone gives him.

Like he's an outsider like he's a freak.

But when he hears that pretty giggle of yours again, comfort takes over him, nervousness dissipating quickly when he sees the gentle look you give him.

Almost as if to let him know that you also love those bands. Almost as if to let him know that he wasn't an outsider because you were just like him.

“Dio?” You asked with a curious gaze, face beaming up when Eddie nodded furiously.

“Fuckin' love Dio,” He muttered, barely realizing the needle on his skin now, all thanks to you.

“Uhh—how did you even get that shirt?” Eddie asked, almost shyly, admiring the way you were neatly tattooing him.

“I wanted to go to that concert so badly but the tickets were sold out so quickly.” He added.

“Oh! I was Belladonna's groupie,” You muttered mindlessly, the pain as you prickled the needle was an afterthought to Eddie now, almost forgetting how to breathe, he coughed, quite loudly, causing you to look up at him and see the bewildered look on his face.

You stopped the machine when you chuckled lightly, "Oh, Eds!"

There it was, that nickname again, god you were dizzying his mind.

“I was just joking,” You smiled at him, and he wanted to melt, right then and there. "Needed to go a little bit deeper so I thought I'd distract you," You shrugged, and Eddie returned the smile.

He liked the feeling of having someone care about him, he liked talking to you, and he sure as hell enjoyed being with someone so similar to him—someone so fucking cool.

“Though I did go to that concert in 1987.” You could feel Eddie’s curious gaze on you

“My friend knew their manager,” You murmured again.

"Really?!? How was it?" He asked, face beaming again.

“So fucking cool.” You gushed as you started talking about their set list, how the first punch you ever threw was at that concert, and you enthusiastically animated Donais' guitar riff, earning a hearty chuckle from Eddie. He loved every bit of your story, listening attentively as your exaggerations enticed him more and more.

The longer you tattooed him, the more comfortable Eddie got, pain was no longer his main concern when all he wanted to do was make you laugh, hear that sweet giggle escaping from your lips, admire the way your eyes crinkle when you smile at him so sugary.

Minutes stretched into hours as you focused on his tattoo, each pass of the needle causing a smile on your face as the sketch you made became more intricate and alluring on his bare skin.

“All done!” You exclaimed with a smile when you finally finished tattooing him, a sigh of relief escaping your lips when the buzz of the machine was finally replaced with silence.

You couldn't help but trace every part of his face now, you wanted to see if he liked it, anxiety bubbling up in your stomach as you couldn't read Eddie's expressions.

“Oh my god,” Was all that left Eddie's lips, and your lips almost started to tremble.

Jesus fucking Christ, how bad did you fuck up?

“Oh my fucking god,” He repeated again, this time his head tilted upward to your direction, almost snapping as you looked at him with scared eyes.

But your gaze eased the second you saw the admiration in Eddie's gaze. “This is a fucking masterpiece!” He beamed, causing a smile on your lips, so fucking big and pretty that he wished he could have that tattooed instead.

“It's fucking perfect,” He muttered again, shaking his head in disbelief when he looked at the tattoo on his forearm.

“I mean when I saw that sketch, I knew you were good to , but holy shit,” He praised again, causing heat to grow in your cheeks, he had no idea how much it meant to you, to have someone appreciating your art, to have people walk around in the sketches you did, indelible on their skin. It felt so fucking good.

“It's...perfect.”

“Really?”

“Of fucking course,” He gushed. “You're so fuckin' talented it's crazy,” He muttered, fingertips gentle as they avoided glazing through the tattoo, but around it.

You were so fucking perfect it was killing him, and he couldn't help the giddy feeling inside of him knowing that your art would be etched into his skin, forever.

You couldn't shake off the thoughts in your head, swirling when Eddie uttered those compliments to you.

Your cheeks grew hot so quickly that you felt the need to turn around, trying to think of something to say to him so that you wouldn't look like a fucking idiot.

Eddie turned around to face you, the smile that brought out his dimples apparent in his face as he watched you scrabble something on a business card.

“Thank you,” You muttered when you turned around, hands almost shaking as you extended your arm to give Eddie the card.

He scrambled it into his back pocket, not caring when you were this close to him, but you frowned at that. “No, thank you, for this masterpiece” He winked, pointing toward his forearm.

He didn't even know where he got the confidence to even be able to wink at you, and his coolness wore off the second he exited the shop, a silent shrieking scream exited his mouth as he freaked out.

Your sketch. On his arm.

You. Tattoo artist. Metal fan.

You, kissing him on the cheek, talking to him for hours, laughing at his idiotic jokes.

You.

Eddie was sure he lost his mind, hands shaking as he reached for the card in his back pocket.

The card was black and the title on it was dripping with blood. He whined.

How much cooler were you going to get?

He gulped when he looked back, seeing you toward the clear glass door, and he knew.

He knew that if he didn't do it now, he could never do it, this was his only fucking chance, and he couldn't be a coward, not now, not when you were this close to him.

Eddie entered back into the shop in a frenzy, causing your head to pop up swiftly as you looked at him dumbfounded.

God, you were so gorgeous he could feel his heart skip a beat.

“C—can I ask you something?” He cleared his throat to not appear nervous, and you nodded, furiously.

“Look, I know this is weird and all... but... uhm, I really feel like we connected,” He muttered, fingers tapping against the glass counter that you were standing behind in.

“And I thought maybe... uhhh... I could like—get your number or somethin'?” He uttered anxiously, tilting his head slightly to the side, and you couldn't help the giggle that escaped your lips.

And even though why you laughed was reasonable, it was the worst fucking thing you could have done to Eddie.

Especially when your laugh seemed so mocking, almost different than the ones you gave him earlier before. Jogging deep into this memory of the countless times when Eddie tried to pluck up the courage to ask girls in his class out, only to be laughed in his face, or to have them insult him.

But this was more than that, it pained him.

It pained him to think that you thought of him like the others did. Like you saw him as an outsider, too.

His bubble of confidence that was already wavering was even quicker to fizzle out, he could feel that familiar lump in his throat, shoulders slumping as his gaze was quick to show his emotions.

He was hurt. And he was sure this hurt much more than a thousand needles breaking the barriers of his skin, “Uhhh,” He gave you a bitter chuckle. “Just.... never mind” He added, defeatedly turning back around to exit the shop once again as he ignored you calling out for him.

“Wait!” You yelled out after him, but Eddie started walking faster.

“Shit shit shit!” You cursed yourself for your little joke.

“Eds, please!” You called out again, this time effective enough to make Eddie stop in his tracks.

Eds. Oh you knew how to get him hooked, how to get him right where you wanted him.

And he hated himself for being this weak for you, someone he met, just recently.

“What?” He answered coldly, glaring at you with bitterness that made you want to hide out, that gentle soul in him disappearing in mere seconds.

And you sighed, hating that he could ever see you as someone that would make fun of him.

“Flip the card,” Your gaze on him was intense, cheeks growing hot again knowing that you were going to see his reaction to your stupid note.

“I don't have time for your bullshit” He spat, almost on his feet to leave.

You sighed. “Eds, just... will you just please flip the card?” You asked, all prettily that Eddie couldn't help but oblige, but be gentle with you again because he couldn't resist it. He couldn't resist you.

He huffed as he plucked the card out of the back pocket of his jeans, turning it over in one swift motion.

'CALL ME IF U NEED A GROUPIE' and your digits were attached right below it.

His gaze softened immediately, head drooping further as he huffed at himself.

He felt stupid, so fucking stupid.

Why did he ever think you would treat him like the others?

His chest expanded with hope when he looked back up at you, a soft smile graced his lips.

“Oh,” He muttered, not able to help the childish grin that was now stuck to his lips.

“Shut up,” You giggled, nudging him slightly.

“You owe me,” You narrowed your eyes sarcastically, causing his brows to quip.

“Oh, yeah? Like what?” He asked, a newfound confidence washing him over when you were so easy to talk to.

“A date,” You beamed, scrunching your nose.

“Okay.” The words left his lips quickly, too quickly that it had you feeling giddy inside.

“How about tomorrow?” He didn't even know how he managed to get those words out without stuttering.

“Uhm—sure.” You were the one stuttering now, cheeks burning up as you could barely look at him. His grin was sickly inviting.

“I'll pick you up at 8?” You nodded so quickly that you were sure your head was about to fall off.

“See you tomorrow,” His voice was sultry as he winked again, making you almost melt, looking cool on the surface when all he wanted to do was go home, freak the fuck out, tell Wayne all about the cool girl who tattooed him, and not be able to sleep until your date tomorrow.

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