#this is so stupid but i wanted to draw them

[vettelsvee]

LITTLE MISS SUNSHINE | Sebastian Vettel

High School History Teacher!Sebastian Vettel x Primary School Teacher!Reader ↳ Teacher AU ⋆ Part of CLASSROOM GOSSIPS

SUMMARY: Seb is stressed because his students did pretty bad in their latest History exam, but he gets more stressed and grumpy when Y/N, the cutest Primary School teacher according to Seb, arrives to the teacher's lounge to "annoy" him, but the truth is that there's more than that ↳ BASED ON THIS POST I MADE THE OTHER DAY!

WORD COUNT: 3099

WARNINGS: LOTS OF GRUMPY (Seb) X SUNSHINE (Reader), some bad words, cursing, nothing else but wait till the end because I assure you you're gonna love it!

TAGLIST: @koalapastries @vampsarereal @gracie23x @cutelittlefakejourneys @scopeiguess @hoziersfrancesca

VEE'S NOTES: I ABSOLUTELY adored writing this, and I hope you like it as much as I do! This goes all the way up to the top of my fave fics written by me. Also, a toast to you because you liked all this Teacher!Seb thing a lot 🥹 I'd love to read your opinions on this, so feel free to leave me a comment, an anon message or reblogging since it helps us creators a lot. Thank you so much for reading, and hope you like it! <3 ↳ TALK TO ME / REQUESTS! | FORMULA 1 MASTERLIST | BUY ME A COFFEE

© VETTELSVEE (2025). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

“How can you say that World War II ended with the fall of the Berlin Wall? My God...”

“It makes no sense at all, but if you ask whoever told you that, they’ll give you a convincing enough answer to make you pass their exam.”

Sebastian lifted his head, even though he didn't need to in order to know who was speaking.

Y/N Y/L/N, the second-grade teacher who is the pure representation of the sunshine itself. Your smile, always revealing your teeth, and your energy, isn’t exactly contagious to him, and even sometimes that'd be enough to make someone want to throw up.

You were standing in front of him, holding an absurd amount of papers. Seb couldn't avoid looking at you. No matter how much you might irritate him at times, he found you more than fascinating. He admired you in every single aspect and, somehow, that made him pretty angry with himself. You took the opportunity to silently show him some drawings of bees. Bees. Happy bees. Sad bees. Damn it, there were even bees wearing party hats and surrounded by confetti, and other baking and having coffee.

Sebastian said nothing. Instead, he ignored you and continued grading exams, but you didn't take it personally since you know how stressed he had to be with his class.

It didn't take long before a series of increasingly loud bangs started to get on his nerves.

When he looked up again, he saw you struggling with the printer, which seemed to have decided not to work.

“Why is it that every time I come here, this stupid, useless piece of junk decides to stop working?” you huffed, nearly shouting. “It’s like… like it’s out to get me!”

“Maybe it’s because you make too many copies every week,” Vettel replies.

“I have to give my students a quality education, Seb. And a quality education includes, among other things, making as many copies as I need to teach the contents properly!”

“And does your quality education include printing an entire colony of bees?”

You shrugged, offering no further explanation. Instead, you grabbed a nearby chair and dragged it until it was next to Sebastian. To his utter surprise, you sat down beside him, placing your absurdly thick stack of papers on top of the ungraded exams.

If you didn’t leave in the next few seconds, Seb swore he'd have a heart attack.

“My kids need all of this, Seb,” you said again, showing him those ridiculous drawings once more. “They’re learning about pollination, and what better way than by coloring little bees and then putting them all over the classroom to represent how they work?”

“I’m currently questioning whether I’m a complete failure as a teacher so, to be completely honest with you, the last thing I need right now is you showing me this... nonsense.”

You scoffed, knowing he didn’t mean it. He was just too stressed. His students failing with embarrassingly low grades didn’t mean his skills as a teacher were declining, but it did mean he’d have an army of parents breathing down his neck, demanding explanations for why their children’s performance was so poor.

“Stop saying things like that!�� You smacked his shoulder, and his patience wore even thinner when he noticed a red pen mark on the exam he was grading. One that, knowing all too well his students and their thoughts, they’d probably say looked like a penis.

“You’re not a failure. Teenagers are just… idiots.”

“Is that your opinion as a professional in the education field?2

“Of course!” you shouted, waving your hands dramatically. “Why do you think I teach Primary school? Little kids are way cuter, and they think I’m a genius just because I can spell difficult words without getting any help.”

Seb tried not to, but a small smile started creeping onto his face. He quickly bit his lower lip and shifted in his seat, attempting to maintain his composure even though sitting next to you made him more nervous and, especially, more entertained, than he would have liked to admit.

“Look at you! I made you smile!”

“If I admit that you're almost funny, will you leave me alone?”

“Let me think about it… No.”

Sebastian didn’t even get a chance to answer before you suddenly jumped out of your chair and rushed toward the printer again.

“I just remembered why I came here! Oh my god, why do I have to be sooooooo forgetful?”

“I suppose that’s to make my life more miserable,” the German replied, raising an eyebrow.

“That’s just a bonus, Seb,” you turned to him, still smiling. “So, yeah, this printer isn’t working because… Well, I don’t know why. But I really need to make these copies, so I guess I’ll have to go back to the Primary school teachers' lounge…”

Sebastian stared at you, unsure of what to say.

Was he misunderstanding things because of stress, or he understood that you had actually walked all the way to the High School section, which was not anywhere near the Primary one, just to make copies, despite having a perfectly good printer in your own area?

“Did you come all the way from the Primary section to the High School one just for… some photocopies?”

“Yes!” you nodded enthusiastically.

“You're perfectly aware that there's a much better printer over there, right?”

“Well, that’s debatable if you consider…”

“Y/N, cut the bullshit.”

You pressed your lips together, unsure of how to tell him that your free period, and your desire to see him, was the real reason you had come all this way, even if it had earned you a few questioning looks and whispered comments from some of your colleagues in the upper grades.

“Well… Maybe I also decided to come here to see you,” you admitted.

Vettel had no idea how to reply to that. He tried to think of something friendly and lighthearted, but his stress seemed to take over before he could filter his words.

“I'm this close to kicking you out, Y/N.”

You only laughed, placing a dramatic hand over your chest and letting out a fake gasp. Seb loved when you acted like this, but right now, he hated it more than ever.

“Oh, please, you wouldn’t dare. I’m your favorite person out of all the people in this school.”

“Funny, because right now you happen to be exactly the opposite,” he muttered.

“You didn’t mean that. I know you didn’t.”

Seb shook his head and buried himself back in grading exams. Of course, he hadn’t meant it. No one was perfect, but somehow, you came pretty damn close without even trying.

“Stop making that weird face, or you’re going to get wrinkles ahead of time,” you teased. By now, you had sat back down beside him and were carefully cutting out flower-shaped drawings with impressive precision.

“You are insufferable, Y/N, really,” Vettel shot back as he meticulously corrected a student's answer about the causes of World War II.

“And yet, you still haven’t told me to shut up.”

Seb frowned. He wanted to do it. He should do it. But he couldn’t. You were too kind to him for him to snap at you… just like what was happening now.

He cursed himself mentally and swore that, from now on, he would grade exams at home to avoid this kind of altercation. Though, deep down, he also knew he would do it because, maybe, it would give him a little more time to spend with you.

Suddenly, you moved closer to him, too close, and took his chin. Your eyes locked, and for a few seconds, neither of you could say anything, let alone voice everything running through your minds about each other.

“You need a break, Seb.”

Your hand instinctively moved to his cheek, caressing it with a kind of affection that neither of you expected. He swallowed hard, trying to stay calm, but his heart only pounded faster and faster, and he couldn’t see it as anything other than a betrayal of his feelings for you.

“Why do you always have to be a threat to me, Y/N?”

You simply smiled before leaving a kiss on his cheek and standing up.

“You can keep pretending all you want, but you know you love it,” you said, grabbing your things and heading toward the door, though not before turning back to him.

Sebastian knew exactly what you meant by doing that. He let out a deep sigh and carefully gathered all the exams, placing them in his briefcase along with his pencil case and phone.

“If I go with you wherever you’re going, do you promise to shut up?”

“Nop, there’s no way I’m doing that,” you replied cheerfully, taking his arm the moment he was beside you and dragging him out of the teachers’ lounge with no real destination in mind.

The German was beyond exhausted. He felt his head throbbing more than usual, which he knew was a sign of an oncoming migraine. He felt drained, frustrated, and more plagued by imposter syndrome than ever. It wasn’t the first time he’d had bad results on an exam, but it was the first time they had been this awful.

He decided not to dwell on it and did his best to push his intrusive thoughts aside, focusing instead on the woman beside him.

You couldn’t stop talking. First, you told him about how your kids, as you called your second-grade students, had made Christmas cards for you and even brought you a gift after the holidays. Then, you talked about how, today, your favorite student (because, according to you, yes, teachers had favorites) had dropped a piece of her sandwich on the floor, and you had to give her your own breakfast but it was worth it since she was more than happy to be having Ms. Y/L/N handmade cheesecake.

Now, you had launched into an explanation of the biodiversity project you were preparing for your students, focusing specifically on the importance of bees in the ecosystem. You even showed him some pictures of what you had been working on at home because you wanted it to turn out so well that you couldn’t just work on it during school hours.

“So…” you said after finishing your explanation. “What do you think about my project so far?”

Sebastian kept walking, trying to process the flood of information you had just given him in such a short time. While some of the pictures looked like pure chaos, something completely opposite to him, the embodiment of perfection, he had to admit that it was good. Really good, actually.

“Well… it looked fun,” he admitted.

“Are you serious!?” you squealed, your eyes sparkling with excitement.

He gave you a shy smile.

“Yes, of course, I mean it.”

“Oh, look at him! Grumpy Seb handing out compliments so easily!” you shouted again, now bouncing on your feet, earning a few disapproving looks from the teachers passing by. “This calls for me to get you a coffee!”

“Y/N, I don’t feel like having coffee. I already had one this morning, and I don’t think it’s the best idea, considering how nervous I—”

“That’s nonsense!” you interrupted, marching toward the Primary school section. “You’re going to have coffee with me, no matter what, and you’re going to thank me because I’m convinced my coffee is way better than that vending machine garbage you drink daily.”

“I’ll thank you the day not a single one of my students fails one of my exams,” he told you.

The Primary school teachers' lounge was empty when you both walked in. You didn’t say much, just offered Seb a seat and told him to make himself at home while you headed to your locker. The German pulled out the stack of exams once again, ready to continue grading them, if you didn’t annoy him again. As he kept marking the papers, he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. Not only were you making him a cup of coffee, but you also seemed to be decorating it. And, if he wasn’t mistaken, you were writing something on a piece of paper.

When you returned, you placed the mug in front of him. It had “Bee positive” written on it, and it was decorated, of course, with a little bee making a heart with its tiny hands. As if that wasn’t enough, you had somehow managed to create an impressive amount of cream, topped with a smiley face that looked like it had been made with cinnamon.

Then, as you took a seat beside him, you slid a note his way, the one he assumed you had been writing earlier.

“Even if you’re having a gray day, remember that you can always make the sun shine! Sincerely, your very own little Miss Sunshine,” followed by a heart and, unsurprisingly, a bunch of smiley faces.

He didn’t know what to say. His eyes, however, when they met yours, seemed to say everything.

“You know, maybe all you need is just a new approach.”

Your sudden change of topic, spoken as you took another bite of your chocolate cupcake, threw him off a little. But he preferred it over the uncomfortable silence you both knew was bound to settle in.

“I’ve already tried, Y/N.”

“Have you tried bribing them?”

Seb narrowed his eyes, impressed and clearly not convinced by what you had just suggested.

“I’m not going to bribe my students, Y/N.”

“Not even by making them work in teams and offering extra credit?” You widened your eyes in surprise. “Have you considered bringing cookies and handing them out? That works incredibly great as a positive reinforcement, trust me”

“I’m not giving my students cookies or anything else,” Seb stated firmly. “I don’t know what to do with them, and that’s what worries me the most. What if I start acting like, no offense, a Primary school teacher, when they’re only two years away from university?”

You shook your head. It annoyed you that Sebastian was so… rigid, so unwilling to change. But what annoyed you even more was that you couldn’t seem to find the right way to help him.

“If you help me with the biodiversity project and actively participate in it, I promise I’ll find a way to make sure all your kids pass the remaining exams this year,” you proposed.

“And what exactly does a primary school teacher know about teenagers and History?”

“First of all, stop being so grumpy with me… I’m just trying to help you!” You huffed, crossing your arms. He wasn’t expecting that answer, and honestly, neither were you. Sebastian straightened in his seat, a bit uncomfortable. “Second, I happen to have a few tricks up my sleeve, but I’m not sharing them until you agree with helping me with the project.”

“Y/N…”

“What is it? What you don’t like: bees, seven-year-olds, or me?"

“I don’t like bees that much, I love being around little kids, and I’m completely captivated by you.”

That was what Sebastian wanted to say. Instead, he stayed silent, absentmindedly playing with the coffee spoon while staring at the note you had written for him.

“You do realize how many exams I still have to grade, right?” was all he managed to reply.

“Seb, you need to relax. I’ve told you before, but I’ll keep saying it as many times as necessary until you actually listen to me.”

“I can’t relax,” Vettel muttered, furrowing his brows. “Do you have any idea how painful it is to read that…?”

You didn’t let him time to finish speaking. You approached him faster than you’d planned, took his face in your hands, and kissed him. At first, Seb was completely caught off guard, but then he placed his right hand on your neck, pulling you closer and making sure the contact between you didn’t break.

Sebastian wondered why he hadn’t done this sooner, while you were more than happy to finally have the courage to take the initiative, especially since it seemed like your work crush was responding with a lot of enthusiasm.

The lack of air forced you to pull away. You readjusted yourself in your seat and couldn’t help but laugh when you saw your lipstick smeared all over Seb’s mouth.

“Did you just…?” Seb tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come out.

“Yes, and I don’t mind doing it again,” you kissed him once again, but this time it was shorter. “Sebastian Vettel, I need you to stop worrying about those fucking exams and take a break.”

Now, Sebastian couldn’t stop smiling, and that’s exactly when you knew you had won that battle.

“You’re so lucky you’re too cute and beautiful and you’re keeping me at my feet somehow, because I swear I wouldn’t stop talking and be annoying just for you to shut me up by kissing me.”

Your eyes lit up at his tease, and your mouth opened in surprise at what Seb had just confessed.

“Sorry, did you just call me cute and beautiful, and also say you want me to shut you up by kissing you?” you pressed him.

Seb didn’t know what to say. His cheeks started to turn red out of embarrassment.

“If I’d known this was going to happen between us, I should’ve asked you to work together waaaay sooner!” you shouted, jumping up in excitement and sitting on his lap. If he hadn’t grabbed you tightly around the waist and balanced the chair, you would’ve ended up on the floor. “Say it again, come on!”

“No way I’m repeating that, Y/N.”

“Please, Seb,” you pouted, then kissed him all over his face. “Just one more time, please…”

“No.”

“Please…”

“Y/N…”

“Seeeeeeebastian.”

“You’re the most annoying person I’ve ever met,” Seb started, “but, somehow, you’re also my very own Little Miss Sunshine.”

You smiled brightly at his words, but you knew this wouldn’t be the end of things between you.

“I’m not your Little Miss Sunshine yet. At least, not officially,” you teased.

“Oh, really?”

You shook your head.

“I’ll be when you finally have the courage to ask me on a date,” you replied cheerfully, wrapping your hands around his neck and kissing him once more. “I’ve taken the first step and kissed you not once, but twice, so now it’s your turn. We’ve got to work as a team, Seb. Haven’t you learned that all these years working as a teacher?”

[imsofreakingtired]

idk if this might be off the table but can you write about sevika finding reader on the bridge about to jump off of it but she gets there just in time

Feel free to ignore if you don’t like it !

thank you for the request anon </3

disclaimer: this piece is not meant to trivialize, romanticize, or dramatize mental illness. i write these to cope and draw the content matter from my own experiences. if you are personally going through something like this, please please reach out and seek help!! tumblr is not a viable replacement for therapy!! and as always if this content is triggering or upsetting for you, pls scroll away and take care of yourself 💙💙

don't let me go

content warning(s): heavy angst, depictions of depression and self-destructive ideation (hurt/COMFORT this time tho trust 🙏)

"this world is a wasteland where nothing can grow if it weren't for you, i'd be here all alone i know in my heart this is where we belong this world is a wasteland... don't let me go."

~~~

*context: reader and sevika have been friends since childhood and now both work under silco.*

~~~

“Sevika,” you say. 

She grunts. 

“What’s your dream?” 

“My dream?” 

“What do you want. I mean really want.” 

Sevika rolls a broken bottle under her boot before pulling back her foot and kicking it into the river. It takes off with a sharp clinking sound, the music of breaking glass, before sailing through the air and plunging into the river water.

“Kill my old man,” she says.

“Okay, second to that.” 

She looks at you. “What d’you mean?” 

You stare back. She is only eighteen but looks older than her years, already tired of the world and its cruelties. She has grown too quickly for her young mind. Her body is hardened to the undercity. You love her with a hopelessness deeper than the black river dividing Zaun and Piltover. 

You ask again, “what do you want?”

She flashes you a rare crooked smile. “To live with you up there.” Pointing in the direction of Piltover. 

“In Topside?”

“No. In the sky.” 

There’s a pause. Then you say to her, “you’re so stupid.” 

“What do you want?” She returns. 

“Me?” I want you. The unspoken words tumble to the tip of your tongue, and you swallow them again. 

“I want a fucking break,” you say instead.

“Hunh.” She kicks another bottle. “We’ll get it. When Zaun is free, we’ll get it.” 

It isn’t quite what you mean, but you don’t try to explain yourself. You don’t tell her that she is the only reason you’re here, even when it sometimes feels like your will to live is clinging on by the fingernails. You don’t tell her that the sound of her voice anchors you when you start spiralling, guilt-ridden and full of self-hatred. You don’t tell her that the greatest fight in your life is not against the enforcers but with yourself. You don’t tell her that you fight every day because of her. 

Because you know she doesn’t fight for you. She fights for Zaun. 

~~~

Sevika watches you closely, though you never realize it. You have been acting strange nowadays, working for days on end without sleep or not coming into work at all. Silco has said nothing about it, because you’re one of his most prized henchwomen, but Sevika can sense something is off. You barely speak two words together unless it’s necessary, and when you do it sounds like your mind is far away. You look tired all the time and sometimes you disappear altogether, returning an hour later as if nothing had happened. And only Sevika notices the bloody cuticles, the swelling around your eyelids. 

One day she corners you in the passageway outside Silco’s office. 

“Are you sick?” she demands. It comes out more brusquely than she intends. She is mortified at her own concern for you. She doesn’t want you to see how much she worries for you, the effect you have on her. 

You look up at her in alarm. “No,” you say quickly. Too quickly. 

“Then why…” she searches for the right words, struggling not to betray herself. “Don’t lie to me,” she says at last. “Something’s wrong.” 

You can see right through her tough façade. You can see the concern in her frowning eyes. And all of a sudden you’re filled with deadly hope and an overwhelming desire to let go. Break down. Tell her everything.

But then you remember that most likely, she’s only concerned with the impact this may have on your usefulness to Silco—to Zaun. You’re terrified she might discover your condition and tell Silco to fire you, that you might be holding them back, that your emotional instability might make your jobs sloppy. 

So you do what you do best. You swallow your words. 

“I’m fine,” you say. “I’m sorry.” 

Her frown deepens. “I said don’t lie.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t apologize, either.” 

“I have work to do, Sevika.” You try to move past her but she reaches out and stops you with her mechanical arm. 

“You used to tell me everything,” Sevika says. Was that a trace of sadness in her tone? Was it your imagination, or was there a softer look in her eyes? 

“There’s nothing to tell,” you say, and each word feels like a dagger in your own heart. “I swear.” 

You duck under her arm and walk swiftly away from her. 

~~~

It is a clear night and you and Sevika are on the rooftop of the Last Drop, sharing a bottle of wine. You can hear Vander and Silco arguing inside the bar, most likely on the topic of politics. They are already dreaming big, thinking past the long fight to overcome, visualizing a brilliant and abstract future. 

You do not see a future. On bad days you see nothing. 

On the good days…

Sevika takes a drink from the bottle and slings an arm around your shoulder. She can be casually affectionate when she’s in the mood, and you cherish these moments. You lean your head on her shoulder. Her skin is warm under her shirt. 

“What would you do if I died?” you ask her. 

Sevika doesn’t answer right away. But you feel her grip on you tighten. 

“If I lost you,” she says finally, “how do you think I’ll go on?”

~~~

When Sevika finds your note, the first thing she thinks of is that conversation on the roof, years ago. She has not forgotten a single thing you ever told her, and the recollection fills her with a terror she’s never known before. 

The slip of paper in her hand reads, you don’t need me anymore. Thank you. For all the moments you gave me before. 

Sevika doesn’t even stop to put on her cloak. She just turns around and runs. 

She’s too late. She’s too late. She’s too late. 

She tears down the street, pushing people carelessly out of the way. As she runs she activates the Shimmer cartridge in her mechanical arm. A hot rush, the familiar jolt, the searing pink in her vision. She runs faster, faster until the buildings are a blur around her, until the sweat flicks off her face. 

Between gasping breaths, like a mantra to you, she whispers, “Please. Please. Please.” 

~~~

It is too late to cry, it is too late to turn back, it is too late to think. Your chest is tight with all you remember. The waters churn under you. 

The only person in the world you have hung on for is Sevika. You tell yourself she will move on quickly. You tell yourself that your death would not make much of a difference to her. What was one person lost in the grand cause? Silco would be able to find a replacement in no time, and the great machinery of Zaun will continue to turn its weary gears. 

Sevika is now a part of that machine. Sevika will not miss you. 

You close your eyes and let your body fall forward. 

Someone screams your name, a raw desperate sound that doesn’t even sound human. 

A flash of rippling pink, a burning sensation around your waist, and then suddenly you’re on the ground. Someone’s arms are wrapped around you, someone’s voice is in your ear, and someone’s hot tears are falling into your hair. 

Sevika. 

Your eyes are shut because you’re afraid you’re already gone. You’re afraid if you open your eyes your senses will catch up with you, and Sevika will be replaced by the cold embrace of water, Sevika’s voice will become the rushing waves over your head. 

But she’s holding you still. She’s holding you so tight you can hardly breathe. She’s saying, over and over, “I’ve got you, I’ve got you, you’re okay.” 

And you can feel her heart pounding wildly against your ear, which is the only indication of how scared she actually is. 

You free your arms and wrap them around her neck. You let yourself break down. You cry until your chest feels like it’s tearing apart. She’s still holding you, her mech arm pressed into your back like a brace, and you cling to her tighter. 

“Don’t let me go,” you beg. “Oh god, don’t let me go.” 

“I won’t,” she says roughly, her voice shaking. “I never will.”

~~~

note: dear readers, i am sorry. 🥲

[00valentina-writes00]

hello! I’ve read like twenty of your stories in like two hours. I’m in awe. And I’d like to request a Sevika x reader story? Maybe one where reader is feeling rather self conscious and Sevika tries to get through to them with words but that’s not what the reader needs (sex). (Im heavily implying smut) but you don’t have to, I just wanted to compliment your works!!

♡♥︎ Mine ♥︎♡

Warnings: ⚠️ NSFW (18+ only) | Dominant Sevika | Body Worship | Praise & Possessiveness | Insecurity/Body Image Themes | Use of Strap-On | Rough Sex | Sevika Being a Menace | Reader is Soft but Sevika is NOT Letting That Slide | You Will Be Appreciated, Whether You Like It or Not

You wake up to the faint hum of Zaun’s undercity, the distant clatter of machinery and the occasional burst of chatter from the streets below seeping through the thin walls of Sevika’s apartment. Her arm is draped over your waist, her hand resting lightly on your stomach. The weight of it feels comforting, protective, but today it makes you tense. You’ve been avoiding this closeness, this intimacy, for days now. Your insecurities have been gnawing at you, whispering ugly truths in your ear. Your thighs are too thick. Your stomach is too soft. She’s not going to want you like this.

Sevika stirs behind you, her chest pressing against your back as she shifts. Her voice is low, gravelly from sleep. “You’re thinking too loud.”

You stiffen. “I’m not thinking about anything.”

“Bullshit.” Her hand tightens slightly on your stomach, fingers brushing against the soft curve there. “You’ve been dodging me all week. What’s going on?”

You shrug, trying to shake her off, but she doesn’t budge. Her grip is firm, insistent. “It’s nothing, Sevika. Just leave it.”

She exhales sharply, her breath warm against the back of your neck. “Don’t give me that. You know I don’t do well with cryptic bullshit. Spit it out.”

You swallow hard, your throat tightening. You don’t want to say it. You don’t want to give voice to the thoughts that have been plaguing you, but you know Sevika won’t let it go. She never does. “I just… I feel disgusting. Okay? My body’s… it’s not good enough. I don’t want you to see me like this.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then Sevika snorts. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

You whirl around to face her, your cheeks burning. “It’s not stupid! You don’t understand—”

“No, you don’t understand,” she interrupts, her voice sharp. Her grey eyes lock onto yours, piercing and unyielding. “You think I give a damn about what you look like? About a little extra weight or whatever the hell you’re obsessing over? News flash, darling—I don’t. I never have.”

Her words hit you like a punch, and you blink, stunned. Sevika’s never been one for sugarcoating, but this feels different. There’s a rawness in her tone, a ferocity that makes your chest tighten.

“But…” you start, but she cuts you off again.

“But nothing,” she growls, sitting up and leaning over you. Her copper prosthetic arm glints in the dim light as she braces herself on the mattress, caging you in. “You’re mine. Every damn inch of you. And I’m not letting you talk yourself out of that.”

You stare up at her, your heart pounding. Her presence is overwhelming, as it always is—towering, muscular, scarred. Her dark hair falls across her face, framing those sharp, angular features. Her lip piercing catches the light, drawing your eyes to her mouth, to the way her brownish-black lipstick smudges just slightly at the edges. She’s beautiful, in a way that’s all hard edges and raw power, and it makes you feel small in comparison.

“Sevika…” you whisper, your voice trembling.

She leans down, her nose brushing against yours. “You need to stop thinking so damn much,” she murmurs, her breath hot against your lips. “Let me show you how much I want you. How much I need you.”

Her hand moves from your waist to your thigh, fingers digging into the soft flesh there. You shiver, your breath catching as she grips you harder, pulling your leg up to wrap around her hip. The movement is possessive, demanding, and it sends a jolt of heat straight to your core.

“Tell me you want this,” she demands, her voice low and rough.

“I… I want this,” you manage, your voice barely above a whisper.

She smirks, a wicked, predatory thing that makes your stomach flip. “Good.”

She doesn’t waste any time. Her hands are on you, rough and insistent, shoving your shirt up and over your head before you can even think to protest. Her mouth finds your neck, teeth nipping at your skin as she works her way down. Her prosthetic arm moves with a precision that’s almost unnerving, the cool metal brushing against your ribs as she strips you bare.

You’re exposed now, completely vulnerable under her gaze. You want to shrink away, to hide from the intensity of her stare, but she doesn’t let you. Her eyes rake over your body, cataloging every curve, every imperfection, and instead of disdain, you see something else. Hunger. Need.

“you’re beautiful,” she growls, her voice thick with desire.

You shake your head, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “I’m not—”

She silences you with a kiss, hard and bruising, her tongue pushing past your lips to claim your mouth. It’s not gentle, not tender—it’s possessive, demanding, and it leaves you breathless. When she pulls back, you’re panting, your chest heaving.

“Don’t argue with me,” she snaps, her eyes blazing. “I don’t have the patience for your self-loathing bullshit. You will not disrespect my girlfriend like that.”

Her hand moves between your legs, fingers sliding through your wetness with a rough, almost careless ease. You gasp, arching off the mattress as she teases you, her touch just this side of too much.

“See this?” she murmurs, her voice a low purr in your ear. “This is how much your body turns me on. How much I fucking crave you.”

Her fingers sink into you, deep and unrelenting, and you cry out, your nails digging into her shoulders. She doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow down, her rhythm punishing as she fucks you with her hand. Your thighs tremble, your body tightening around her as she pushes you closer and closer to the edge.

“Look at me,” she commands, and you obey, your eyes locking onto hers. Her gaze is intense, unwavering, and it feels like she’s staring straight into your soul. “You’re perfect, alluring, and godlike. Every fucking part of you. And I’m not letting you forget it.”

You cum with a strangled cry, your body arching off the mattress as she works you through it, her fingers relentless. When it’s over, you’re shaking, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath.

Sevika smirks, pulling her hand away and licking her fingers clean with a deliberate slowness that makes your cheeks burn.

She moves off the bed, and you hear the sound of her rummaging through a drawer. When she turns back to you, she’s holding a strap-on, the thick, curved silicone gleaming in the dim light. Your breath hitches, your body already thrumming with anticipation.

She straps it on with practiced ease, her movements confident and unhurried. When she climbs back onto the bed, the weight of her presses you into the mattress, her body hovering over yours. Her grey eyes bore into you, and for a moment, it feels like she’s looking straight through you, past all your walls and insecurities.

“Tell me you you’re pretty,” she says again, her voice a growl.

You nod, your voice trembling. “I’m…I’m pretty Sevika..”

Her lips curl into a wicked smile. “Good girl.”

She doesn’t wait, doesn’t give you time to second-guess. She pushes into you in one smooth, brutal stroke, the stretch of her filling you completely. You gasp, your back arching as she bottoms out, the sensation overwhelming.

“Fuck,” she groans, her head dropping to your shoulder. “You’re so hot. So fucking perfect.”

She starts to move, her hips pistoning into you with a relentless rhythm. The sound of skin against skin fills the room, punctuated by your gasps and moans. Her hands grip your love handles, holding you in place as she fucks you, her pace unforgiving.

“You’re mine,” she growls, her voice rough with desire. “Mine, and I’m never letting you go.”

The words send a shiver down your spine, and you cling to her, your nails digging into her back as she drives you closer and closer to the edge. Your body feels like it’s on fire, every nerve alight with pleasure.

“Sevika, I’m— again-”

“Cum for me,” she demands, her voice a low snarl. “Now.”

You obey, your body shattering as pleasure crashes over you in waves. She fucks you through it, her rhythm never faltering, until your entire body is trembling with the force of it.

When she finally stills, her body pressed against yours, you’re both panting, your chests heaving as you try to catch your breath. She drops her forehead to yours, her grey eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your stomach flip.

“You’re mine,” she repeats in a whisper, her voice rough, “and I’m not letting you forget it.”

You nod, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “Yours,” you whisper back, your voice trembling.

She smirks, that wicked, predatory thing that makes your stomach flip. “Good girl.”

And then she’s moving again, her hips rolling against yours, and you realize with a gasp that she’s far from done with you.

“Sevika—”

“Shut up,” she growls, her voice low and dark. “I’m not done with you yet.”

[wemlygust]

I imagine this as the result of Danny reaching such heights of terror of the GIW, and such frustration with the Amity Park Police Department that never did anything to help and instead just went along with whatever the GIW asked, that he has come out the other side of the terror, landed firmly (at least for now) on the "fight" side of the fight/flight/freeze/fawn dice, and become a police officer out of sheer spite even though this objectively puts him at greater risk of discovery. After the initial impulse wears off a bit, the fear starts to sink in again, but at the same time - this is letting him feed his protection obsession ALL THE TIME, even when he's human, and it's so satisfying and nice, and he's been able to help so many people who were caught by corrupt cops - even if sometimes he has to do it by straight-up grabbing them out of jail as a ghost in the night. He just phases in, grabs them, and phases them out again, without ever even letting them see him. It scares them, but it keeps him safe, it keeps them safe, and then they're free. Then he transfers from his Illinois Police Department to Gotham, because for some reason this move will appease the eyeballs into leaving him alone for 2 seconds, and because he'd like a change of pace (he doesn't expect his bosses to be any LESS corrupt in Gotham, but at least maybe they'll be new and interesting forms of corrupt, and at this point he'll take that). His new supervisor is liminal as hell and very weird, though. Which is great, actually - this means he can afford to be a little less careful about hiding his ghostliness around the guy. After all, he's liminal enough the GIW would disappear him too. So they've established an unspoken agreement not to mention it, and it's going great. Even though he can't figure out why Officer Wayne keeps staring at him when he thinks Danny's not looking, or why he often asks blatantly stupid questions. Maybe it's a method of trying to signal that he knows what Danny is and knows Danny knows what he is and agrees they have the unspoken agreement? In which case, shut up, guy, you're just drawing attention to us! Unspoken agreements need to be UNSPOKEN! Or maybe he's actually as corrupt as the rest of them, and Danny's stuck in an "enemy of my enemy" situation... It's starting to put Danny on edge. But he's got shit to do. Why the fuck does the GPD keep letting everyone break out of Arkham? He doesn't want to deal with that himself, but he's starting to think the Joker might be liminal at the very least, if not outright a ghost, and the LAST thing he needs is for the local bat colony to realize that and join up with the GIW, or even - Ancients forbid - bring the Justice League down on his and his peoples' heads... The weird supervisor can deal, for now. And Danny can deal with the weird supervisor. It's fine. Probably.

Rookie

Dpxdc Prompt #37

Dick has always considered himself an extrovert, able to make friends with anyone he sets his mind to. He has a way of making people comfortable around him; friends, family, classmates, strangers, and coworkers just to name a few.

Well, maybe not that last one.

The Bludhaven Police Department is the most corrupt workplace he's seen. Ever. And Dick grew up in Gotham City.

Of course, Amy was a doll and the two worked together to try and clean out the place, but when corruption is rooted in that deep there's nothing you can really do except start from scratch. The higher ups would never approve of that though, so the problem kept on growing.

Which is why, when Dick was assigned to supervise a newbie he was, understandably, dreading it.

He was fully prepared for a bigot who wanted to use the power of the police to boss civilians around. He prepared slightly less for someone who wanted to do genuine good, but would probably be driven out of the force within a couple of months.

What he was not prepared for was the whirlwind that was rookie Officer Danny Fenton.

[loveritas]

anypov જ cw: hints of pseudocest જ wc: 561

Caleb.

He had always been there, like your own personal shadow, a knight in shining armour you’d joke as kids. The one person who made sure you were never alone. From the moment you’d been taken in together, he’d taken you under his wing and kept you there...For protection? Perhaps, if not a little for possession...

When you were younger, he made sure no one picked on you at school. If someone so much as looked at you wrong, Caleb was there, standing just a little too close, his voice low and even as he scared them off with nothing more than a few well-placed words. You never even had to ask; he just knew when you needed him.

You never felt like you were an obligation with him, or that he was forcing himself to spend time with you. He encouraged you to take up the same hobbies, his favourite music, comics, video games, anything it was, he’d happily bond with you over it if you wanted to.

Similarly, he’d do the same for you. You’d mention something and it would stay in his brain, he’d learn all about your hobbies and fixations, just so you’d have someone to share it with. Your smile whenever he’d show interest was always worth it to him, the image framed permanently in his mind.

It was sweet, the way he was always there.

But then you got older and it didn’t stop. If anything, it got worse.

Every time you got close to someone, Caleb had something to say. A subtle comment, a warning laced with just enough truth to make you doubt. “I heard he’s a player.” - “He’ll just use you.” - “Heard some real bad things about that one.”. Sometimes he didn’t even need to say anything, just a glance, a tight-lipped expression, and suddenly, you were second-guessing everything.

And if that didn’t work? He found other ways.

He pulled you aside at a party, fingers closing a bit too firmly around your wrist as he leant down and whispered, “You're not really into him, are you?” His voice was gentle, nearly teasing, but there was something underneath. Something darker.

“You trust me, don't you?”

It was a stupid question, of course you did, you always had, probably would forever more.

You always looked up to him, he knew best and it allowed him to draw you back into the protection of his presence, allowed him to remind you—over and over—that no one would ever know you the way he did, take care of you the way he does.

As you stepped out into the evening chilly air Caleb's arm slid around your shoulders, pulling you close into his side. His warmth seeped into you, always so comforting and grounding, even now when there was a hidden undercurrent of something else

"Let's go home, parties’ not all that great-" he whispered, as he pressed a small gentle kiss to the top of your head.

It should have been nothing. A brotherly thing. A habit formed over the years.

But the way his lips lingered—just a second too long, inhaling your scent a little—had you mind racing, and a subtle warmth running along your skin.

You didn’t look up at him, too scared for what you might see in his eyes.

Or perhaps too scared it would be reflected in your eyes too.

© loveritas → do not copy or translate any of my works

[shimmernspice]

Can we perhaps get a vi x chubby!reader? Maybe it’s readers first time and they’re a little self conscious about it? I feel like there’s not a lot of them out there! (at least pertaining to Arcane) Love your work btw💫

Soft to the Touch

pairing: Vi x reader

warnings: 18+, smut, vaginal fingering (r receiving), oral sex (r receiving), body insecurity/self doubt

The dim glow of the streetlights reached through the windows of Vi's apartment in a haze, highlighting the outline of you and Vi's body in the sheets. The soft hum of the city was a stark contrast to the warmth of being nestled in the sheets. You sat there, fingers twisting nervously in the fabric of your shirt.

Vi noticed the way your shoulders tensed and the way you were lost in your thoughts. She reached out, softly dragging her calloused hands along your arm.

"Hey," she murmured, titling her eyes to meet your own. "You don't have to be nervous baby. Y'know you can trust me."

You swallowed hard trying to push down the insecurities that roared through your head. You couldn't help but feel insecure. Without hesitation, you moved your head down to pick at your nails.

"I know, I'm just... nervous I guess. I don't know what I'm doing and I don't exactly look like-" You paused in anxiety, too nervous to voice your insecurity.

It was no secret that you looked nothing like her exes. It was stupid to even think about how you found yourself catching your reflection, thinking about how you were softer than them. And your girlfriend. She was so fit with the muscles that showed off her strength. Tears started to gather in your eyes at the thoughts in your head.

Vi's brows furrowed as she brought her hand to your face, tilting your head back to her. Her thumb brushed over your skin with admiration. Sometimes you didn't understand it. How she could look at you so longingly.

"You don't 'exactly' look like what? Like someone I Love? Someone I wanna be with?" Her voice was so firm yet still so soft.

You sighed, the words feeling heavier than you wanted them to. "Like the kind of person you'd want like this."

Vi let out a short laugh, not out of mockery but in true disbelief. She shifted closer, her forehead now pressed against her. Her breath was warm and steady against your skin. "Baby, have you seen you? Every damn inch of you drives me wild."

"You are the most beautiful woman in the world to me. Why would you think I wouldn't want you?"

Your breath hitched at the conviction in her words. She didn't say it just to make you feel better - she meant it. You searched her eyes for any doubt, any hesitation, but all you found was adoration.

"I just... I can't help but think it sometimes."

Vi smiled softly at you. "Then let me show you how much I want you baby. How much I love every part of you."

She kissed you slowly and deliberately, trying her best to pour every ounce of emotion into the press of her lips. She moved with a gentleness that made you feel like something precious.

And she held you even closer, drawing her hands against your body, mapping every curve. You felt something shifting in you. The insecurity beginning to melt away at her hands.

The kiss deepened as you ran her hair through your fingers, pulling as she suckled gently at your pulse before soothing it with her tongue. Vi smirked against your neck, her hands squeezing at your waist.

Heat pulled in your stomach her kisses continued down your body. Each one more possessive after the other.

Her hands crept under your shirt, cupping your breasts. She pulled the shirt over your head and placed her mouth on you, sweeping over your nipple with her tongue. She hummed, the vibrations making you turn your hips in search of friction.

Smirking from her spot she spoke, "These fit so perfectly in my hands baby." She continued tweaking your buds as she spoke, making you whine in desire.

Her eyes darkened with desire. "Can I taste you?" she asked, hands moving down to your wet core. Feeling how wet you wear through your underwear she begged, "Please baby. Lemme take these off so show you how much I want you."

Your hand lowered, covering Vi's where her hand traced your slit, guiding her to slip your underwear to the side. Your breath hitched, "I want this, you, but- just go slow okay?"

Vi's lips curled into a soft smile, her eyes never leaving yours.

"Always, baby. Always for you." Her voice was a low, husky whisper, thick with desire. She could feel the way your body trembled under her touch, the way your breathing staggered as she traced your wet slit.

Her fingers hooked into the waist band of your underwear, sliding them down with a gentle tug. The cool air hit your exposed skin, making you shiver. But Vi's warmth replaced it instantly, her hot breath against your thigh. She kissed the inside of your knee, her lips trailing in an agonizing pace.

"You're so fucking beautiful," she whispered, voice rough with want. "Every part of you. I'm gonna make you feel so good, baby. Just let me take care of you."

Her tongue flicked out, a teasing swipe against your folds. You gasped, hips jerking involuntarily. She pressed a firm kiss to your clit, lips wrapping around the swollen bundle of nerves and sucking gently. Your hands flew to her hair as she worked over you. her tongue lapping at your slick with a hunger that made your toes curl.

"Vi-" you whimpered, voice breaking as she slipped a finger inside you.

"That's it," she whispered, watching as your hand clutched her wrist. Breathless whimpers left your mouth as you began to rock against her hand. She added a second finger, stretching you slowly as her mouth never left your clit.

She fucked you with her fingers in a slow and steady rhythm. It was overwhelming in the best way possible, too much yet not enough. "Let me hear you. Let me feel how much you want this."

Your back arched off the bed, a moan leaving your throat as her fingers pressed harder and faster. Her tongue circling your clit in tight, relentless circles. The heat in your stomach coiled tighter, thighs trembling as she pushed you closer to the edge.

You could feel it building, the pressure becoming sweet, unbearable, and then-

"Vi, I'm... I'm gonna," you choked out. Your voice barely a whisper but she heard you.

"Cum for me baby," she growled, fingers pumping harder, her mouth sucking harder. And that was all it took. Your orgasm crashed over you like a wave, feeling different than if it were your own fingers.

Your body convulsed as the pleasure ripped through you, your cries filling the room. Vi didn't let up, fingers still working inside you, drawing out every last shuddering pulse of your release until you were spent.

She pulled back slowly, lips glistening with your slick. her eyes were hungry as she looked at you.

"You see that?" she murmured in satisfaction. "That's how much I want you. Every fucking inch of you."

You were still catching your breath, chest heaving. You were on cloud nine but you still managed a weak smile. Vi returned the smile, brushing your hair away from your face before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"You okay?" she asked. It was soft with warmth.

You nodded, sighing as your nestled closer to her. "More than okay."

Vi chuckled, wrapping an arm around you, pulling your closer to her chest. The steady rhythm of her heartbeat was soothing, grounding you into the moment.

Silence settled between you as she found her hand tracing the curves of your body. It wasn't awkward or heavy. It was peaceful, the kind of quiet that felt like safety.

After a moment she spoke again. 'Y'know, you don't ever have to worry about comparing yourself. You're the only one I see."

You swallowed past the lump in your throat, emotions still lingering at the edge of your thought. "i know... I just get so in my head sometimes."

"Then I'll just have to remind you everyday."

You laughed, softly shaking your head. "That might be a little too much baby."

Vi smirked. "Never. Not when it's you."

Your heart swelled at her words and the belief you held in them. Wrapped in her arms you let yourself sink into the warmth of her presence.

You found yourself not worrying about what you looked like. Tonight, you were just you. And to Vi that was everything.

[a-stars-art-blog]

Barok the physically affectionate my beloved

[justmeinadaze]

Curiosity (Eddie X Plus Size Y/N)

A/N: When I tell you that this did things to me...omg.

I was going to do a one shot but there's a few stories to tell with this two (and I love them already so bleh!)

There is a small glimpse into future steddie activity ;)

I dedicate this to the older girlies looking for their own Eddie Munson <3

Warnings: Younger (Early 20s) Daddy (kinda camboy) Eddie & Older (early 30s) Plus Size Sub Fem Y/N, SMUT, SO MUCH dirty talk <3, daddy kink (cause I'm me), praise, semi-public (back of his van), big dick Eddie Munson, squirting, etc. FLUFF, these two work together and talk about being each others "work spouses".

ANGST, Y/N stumbles upon Eddie's "second job" on OnlyFans, struggles with the notion of telling him, reader (like myself) makes jokes about being older, weight doesn't play a factor in here and its barely mentioned. Eddie does say how beautiful and sexy he thinks her body is. I think that's it.

The main angst here is her stumbling onto his account and not telling him.

Word Count: 7874

Donate to Me <3

"Yeah, she's got those pretty eyes

But behind them lies

Thoughts of him at night she can't seem to fight

Feelings that she knows she's gonna have to feed"

You hated call center work but it paid alright and it was something you could do while you worked towards your goals of becoming something more. While the work and customers were tedious, the environment wasn’t too bad. Your manager was a sweet girl a little younger than you and the company did a bit more for its employees than the typical “You did well this quarter. Here’s a pizza party.”

Your head falls on to your desk as you hang up the phone after one of the rudest customer experiences in your life. 

A slight draw back was, like your manager, a lot of the coworkers around you were younger, ranging from just graduating high school to their mid-twenties. Listening to most of these kids talk made you feel old as hell which is part of the reason you connected to the boy on the opposite side of your cubicle. 

While Eddie Munson was in his early twenties, he had a slightly older soul. When he wasn’t talking to you or anyone else, he had hair metal playing in his headphones and even had that long, wild hair to match. He talked about things you remembered growing up with fondly as if he was born around the same time and when you questioned him about it, he just said he was “raised right.”

“Fun chat?”, he teased as he leaned back in his seat.

“Exciting!”, you mumbled into your arm that your head was resting on. 

Eddie’s warm laugh filled your ears as his palm extended out to rub your back. 

“I know, sweetheart. These fucking people can be real pricks sometimes.”

“Edward Munson.”

“Mrs. Angela.”

“Language. Just because you aren’t on the phone doesn’t mean people can’t hear you on the other end.”

You laughed as you sat up, meeting his radiate grin as he chuckles. 

“Yes ma’am, Mrs. Angela. I apologize for the foul mouth I was born with.”

Your manager mumbles a soft mhmm and he continues to smile as he leans in closer to speak at a much softer volume. 

“Don’t let these people walk all over you. Remember, they need your help.”, he winks before lightly poking your nose. 

As the day came to a close and you both walked out together, you asked him what his plans were for the evening and he responded the same way he always did. 

“Um, probably going to put in some hours at my second job. I want to put in more recording time this weekend and the fucking manager at the studio is demanding we put down payments before we can use the equipment. It’s fucking stupid. I mean it’s not like we’re taking the stuff home.”

“One day, you’ll have to let me hear you play.”, you smile his way as you throw your things into your car. 

“And one day you’ll finally accept my invitation to come see us play on stage.”, he grins as he opens your car door and rests his chin on the top while he watches you put your things away. 

“I think I’m too old to be hanging out in a bar.”, you giggle. 

“Says who? Definitely not me because if I met a pretty lady like you at The Hideout she’d never go home alone again.”

Eddie’s smile widens and he sticks out his tongue through his teeth as you roll your eyes. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, weirdo.”

“Bye, babe.”

After he closed your door, your eyes followed him as he pulled his cigarettes out of his pocket and lit the end on his way to his van. 

He really was a good man and utterly adorable. People in the office called him your work husband which gave you secondhand embarrassment till he himself began playing into the role. 

“Hey now Mrs. Angela, don’t talk to my work wife that way. Don’t worry, baby girl, I got your back.”, he joked with the manager as he slid his arm around your shoulders. 

Eddie made you laugh constantly and when you had a hard day, he was your sound board allowing you to vent. A part of you felt guilty because he seemed to know more about you than you did about him besides the fact that he wanted to be a rockstar. 

You genuinely did want to hang out with him outside of work but the insecure part of you couldn’t help but always wonder why he’d even want to spend his free time with someone your age when he could be giving his attention to any of the slimmer, more attractive women his own age. 

The sound of him slamming his car door brought you back into the moment as you pushed your gear into reverse and sped to your home. 

***

“Hey, can I use your laptop to watch a movie in bed?”, you ask your roommate as her heels click along the floor behind where you were sitting on the sofa. 

“Seriously? That’s what you’re doing with your Thursday night?”

“Relaxing after a long day at the office? Yes, Kelsey.”

“Why don’t you go out on a date or something?”

“So is that a yes or…?”

Your roommate sighs as she scurries somewhere before she wiggles the device in your peripherals and you thank her. 

“Don’t judge me when you open it. I was watching this sexy guy on Only Fans. Hot damn.”, she swooned making you laugh as she quickly hugged you and hurried towards the door. “I love you! Don’t wait up for me!”

Shaking your head, you take her laptop and throw yourself on your mattress as you flip it open. 

Images of cute people caught your attention and you couldn’t stop yourself as you nonchalantly began to browse. You had never signed up for one of these let alone really knew anything about the platform besides the obvious. You weren’t a prude by any means, you had just never gone down avenues like this.

There were probably millions of people on this site… so the chances of your eyes landing on a face you knew had to be astronomical.

Yet as you clicked a “featured” link, a face you very much recognized appeared front and center. 

Eddie or as the name read, EddietheBanished, was smirking up at the camera with his upper torso bare showing off all the muscle you were completely unaware he had.

You should have let it go; respected his boundaries and closed the browser but it was like autopilot moved you as you clicked his link.

There he was.

The metalhead was sitting at a desk in what you assumed was his bedroom with his head hanging and hair in front of his face as he strummed his guitar. Shaking his mane, his gorgeous eyes met the camera before that sexy smile painted his lips. 

“I see a lot of new ‘faces.’ Welcome. I’m a nice guy I swear. I’ll be getting started here in a minute so take your time, relax, get comfy.”

You immediately backed out and slammed the computer shut, powerwalking into your kitchen to get a glass of wine. 

“No, no Y/N. He’s your friend and your coworker. Don’t invade that boundary. Don’t…”

As you took a sip of your beverage, you glared at the device that felt like it was taunting you from your bed. 

“Maybe…I can make my own account and just…see what he does. Maybe he just plays guitar without his shirt on. People do that right?”

Sitting back down, you reopened the laptop and logged out of your roommates account, selecting to create your own. 

“Name…name…I need a name…”

Um CurvyCorporateMillennial.

“God that’s dumb.”, you sigh at your internal thought as you upload a picture of a random flower as your profile pic and search for his name after you set everything set up. 

“Alright, friends, you know the drill. You get an hour to ask me questions and tip if you wish. The private group session will begin after.”

Over the course of the hour, you listened to him talk about music and his instrument, strumming along to random songs you definitely recognized, making you smile as you watched his fingers moved. Eddie was incredibly charming, replying off every innuendo with something cute or sassy in return. You enjoyed the regular answers more than anything as he came out of his shell a bit differently than he did at work. 

“Yeah, a lot of these tattoos I got because I had the money and I wanted it.”, he chuckled. “But this one here… I got for Master of Puppets and that album. Do you guys know who sings that?”

“Metallica.”

“Damn…CurvyCorporateMillennial answered that quick. Good girl.”, he chuckles making you smirk before you internally panic. 

“Shit. How am I the only one who answered that, that fast?”

“My mom and my uncle really loved all kinds of music. Inspired me to learn to play…”, he sighed as his eyes went a bit glassy. 

Your heart broke for him as you listened to the sad tone in his voice, wondering if something happened there. He never talked about his parents but to be fair you also never asked. 

“You play very well.”

A soft smile spread across his lips as he winked at the camera causing you to bite your own lip at how fucking sexy the action genuinely was. 

“Alright, we’re nearing the end of this hour. It was nice talkin’ to you guys. To my special group, I will see you in about five minutes. I hope to see you there to, Millennial.”

With that he turned off his stream, leaving you dumbfounded as you stared at your screen. 

“No…there’s no way he was talking to me. There have to other people with Millennial in their name… Y/N, you’ve been here long enough and you even engaged. You need to back away now.”

The entire time you went on the hunt for your credit card, you had that debate with yourself, down to the last minute and point you hit enter. 

When the new room opened, he was smiling at the camera as if he had been waiting just for you before they flicked down to the monitor in front of him. Instead of having a guitar in his lap, the metalhead displayed his palm absently rubbing his crotch through his sweats.

“Hey, guys. Thank you for your time and money. This is where the conversation gets fun.”, Eddie chuckles. “Ask away.”

“I shouldn’t be here.”

You can’t see anything displayed on the screen but you can see the reflection of words glisten within his chocolate eyes. 

“Aha, no. No, Steve tonight. I did ask but he said he’s incredibly busy this week…Ok, JulieGirl, I’ll let him know you miss him. Shit, I miss him to. Man definitely knows how to leave me a mumbling mess… Yeah? You’d sit on Daddy’s cock?”

“F-Fuck me.”, you panted, completely frozen as you watched him reach into his pants and take out his dick to spit over his tip, stroking it along his shaft. 

You had never thought about Eddie intimately like that but seeing him wrap his large palm around his girth had your pussy clenching around nothing. 

“Fuck, no, wrong!”, you shout as you close the browser and slam the laptop closed. 

##################

“Hey, sweetheart.”, Eddie murmured while his hand rubbed along your back as he flopped down in his seat beside you. This was an action he did everyday which is why he was startled when you gasped and jumped in your chair. “Whoa! You alright, honey? Too much coffee?”, he joked, nervous when you didn’t laugh.

“I’m fine.”, you replied curtly, choosing to focus on your computer in front of you. 

For the rest of the day, you avoided his gaze and kept your head down to work. During your lunch you two would usually sit together but today when he asked if you wanted to go anywhere, you declined and gestured towards your monitor.  

As soon as he clocked out, you waited for him to exit the floor, clocking out as well before following. You hid when you noticed him waiting for the elevator, counting to 30 after he got on and the door closed before pressing the button to ride your own. 

You breathed a sigh of relief as you prayed you’d miss him coming back in, your eyes widening in surprise when the elevator door opened and Eddie was leaning against the opposite wall. 

“Hey, um, oh fuck. I forgot something—”

As the doors began to close again, the metalhead took long strides forward and his palm loudly smacked against the bumpers causing them to slowly open once more. 

“Did I do something to make you mad?”

“What?”

“You heard me. Did I say something or do something to offend you?”

“Pfft, Eddie, what are talking about?”, you reply as nonchalantly as possible while stepping around his broad frame and heading for the parking lot. 

“Oh, come off it, Y/N. You’ve barely said two words to me and now you’re avoiding me.”

“I’m not avoiding you—”

“Just tell me what I did wrong—!”, he shouts as he reaches for your bicep to get you to slow down but pauses when you abruptly turn and glare his way. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…grab you… I just…I don’t like this…you treating me like most of the people in this fucking town.”

“Huh?”, you inquire, genuinely confused. 

“Shit. I forget you’re not from here sometimes. Um, let’s just say I don’t have many friends. I know we don’t really hang out outside of the building but I like talking to you. It would seriously break my heart if you never spoke to me again.”

Your own heart cracked hearing the sincerity in his voice as his gaze shifted to his feet like a nervous kid. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad or anything. I’m just…I have a lot on my mind.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”, he asks. “As your work husband it’s my duty to hear about my work wife’s woos.” As you laugh at his joke, a sigh of relief leaves his chest. 

“No, I’ll be alright.”

“Ok…may I buy you lunch, my lady?”

***

You exhaled as you got home and threw yourself flat on your bed, exhausted from the day and your constant thoughts about what you had seen the night before. 

You considered just telling him what you saw but you didn’t want to embarrass him nor did you want to come off like some kind of pervert. You knew he had a “second job” but you never asked what it was mostly because you didn’t want to pry. 

He seemed so hurt today when you ignored him and it didn’t help that you were now pent up, needing a release after hearing him talk the way he had. 

Your phone dinged and originally you ignored it, thinking it was most likely your roommate who was letting you know that she got to work safely like she always did being that she worked a late-night shift at one of the restaurants nearby. 

When you finally looked at the screen, you were surprised to see a notification from the OnlyFans account. 

Your private session with EddietheBanished starts in five minutes.

“Huh? I didn’t…”

Once again you debated with you internal self as you got to your feet and headed to grab your roommate’s device. 

“I can log in and just tell him ‘Hey it’s Y/N. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have clicked on your thing…’ Yeah…Ok, Y/N.”

As soon as you opened the browser and signed in, you made sure the camera was off as you entered the session link sent to you. 

“Hey, Millennial.”, Eddie’s sultry voice cooed as he smiled at the screen. “I hope it’s alright. I scheduled this session here. I noticed you left the group thing before it really started and since you paid for it, I thought it only fair to do this so you don’t feel like you wasted your money.”

Your face softened at his kind confession as you sighed and began to type. 

“You didn’t have to do that. You seem very sweet. I wouldn’t have felt like I wasted my money at all.”

“Aw, thank you, sweetheart. I appreciate that. May I ask why you left so abruptly?”

“I…”

“It felt wrong.”

The metalhead blinked as he nodded and leaned back in his chair as his palm absently rubbed his tummy, the action in itself filling your own stomach with little butterflies. 

“You’re not an OnlyFans normal, are you, honey?”

“Not really no. I was borrowing my roommate’s laptop and when I opened it I saw your face. I got curious.”

“It’s alright to be curious. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I seem to be unintentionally doing that.”, he chuckles causing your head to tilt. 

“What makes you say that?”

“Oh, you don’t want to hear about my problems.”

“No, please. Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, I just… I work at this boring ass job during the day but the only person that keeps me sane seemed upset at me today…kinda scared me. My coworkers call her my work wife.” 

“I’m sure she just had a lot on her mind.”

“Hm, that’s what she said but…she doesn’t really talk to me about her personal life. I hope everything is ok. I invite her out sometimes but she always declines…says she’s ‘too old’.”, he laughs as he shakes his head. 

The two of you casually talked for what felt like minutes before you glanced at your phone and realized it had actually been over four hours. Eddie opened up to you, talking about his family especially his uncle, his dreams of being a rock & roll legend, and things he enjoyed like D & D. 

“I know absolutely nothing about that game! Lol. I wish I did though. It seems like fun.”

“Oh, baby, it is. Maybe you’ll let me teach you one day…see that pretty face behind the flower…”

“Pfft, how do you know my face is pretty? Lol.”

“Because how can a gorgeous soul like yours not be gorgeous.”

Eddie’s words gave you pause as your breath caught in your throat. He had said it with so much confidence to that you couldn’t help but physically hide behind your hands.

“I hope I’m not being too forward. I don’t mean to make you nervous or anything.”

“No…you don’t make me nervous…I think you’re just wasting that charm on someone my age.”

“Hm, well, I may be younger but I can still be Daddy.”

As he winks at the camera and smiles your whole body comes to life. 

“Eddie…there’s something I should tell you…”

“Did I move to fast? I’m sorry. It’s so weird but I feel like I’ve known you for years, you know? Fuck, probably sounds like a line.”

His hair moves from side to side as he shakes him head in shame and laughs making you laugh along with him. 

“It does but that’s alright. I’ve never done anything like this before. Not just the whole online thing but…the Daddy thing… God, that sounds so stupid.”

“No, no, baby, you don’t sound stupid. May I ask, sweetheart…did you like it?”

“Like what?”

“Hearing me refer to myself that way; as Daddy.”

“Yes.”

Eddie’s smile stretches across his face as he bites his bottom lip and leans back in his seat. 

“I wish I could see you. I’m picturing you like blushing and being all giggly. Fuck, the thought of seeing you like that turns me on.”

Your breath shakes at his words as your thighs rub together. 

“You’ve spent so much time talking and getting to know me, baby, I’d like to return the favor.”

“How?”

Scooting his chair a bit closer to the camera, he adjusts his body so you can see more of his lap and chest. 

“How’s this, sweetheart? Got a good view?”

“I can’t see your face very well.”

You vaguely catch it as his cheeks turn a bright crimson and he smirks as he messes with the camera once more so you can see all his face a bit better. 

“Most people on here want to see my abs or my cock.”

“With partners, I like seeing their eyebrows scrunch together or their mouth fall open.”

“Hear that whimper most men try to hide under their heavy breaths.”

“Fuck me, honey. You definitely have a way with words. I like it. What, um, damn, you threw me a bit off my groove there.”, he chuckles as his palm rubs up his pec and over his opposite shoulder. 

“Hey, don’t worry about it. Maybe…we can talk next weekend. I can schedule the session myself this time. 

“Would it be too forward if I asked for your phone number? I’d love to talk with you through the week.”

“I’ll talk to you later, Eddie.”

“Sweet dreams, baby girl.”

####################

You tried so many times to tell him about finding his account and how you were the girl he spoke with that Friday night, you really did. But the longer you waited, the harder it became. 

When he came in that Monday morning, Eddie had a different glow about him as he lightly tugged your hair and said hello. 

The week went by like normal and you spent every day hyping yourself up, finally deciding you would tell him on Saturday after surprising him by seeing him play at The Hideout. You figured he’d be in such a good mood that you showed up to see him, maybe he wouldn’t be so angry after you told him the truth. 

When you opened the bar entrance door, you were met with loud blaring music and a lot of young voices chatting over the music. Mumbling small apologies, you pushed past people to find a table near the stage hoping you’d be able to catch his eyeline so Eddie knew you were there. 

Lucky for you, they were already on stage preparing their equipment so you hastily snuck to the corner and called his name. When his chocolate eyes met yours, he smiled wide before seeming to freeze as he took you in. 

You weren’t sure what was normal for bar attire so you went with a green spaghetti strap dress with matching heels and light make up to accentuate your features. 

“Hey! I hope I’m not distracting you. I just wanted you to know—”

“Hey, no. No, no. You’re not…distracting me…”, Eddie interrupted as he jumped down from the stage to give you a hug. 

Fuck, he smelled amazing.

“Wow, sweetheart, you look gorgeous. I’ve never seen you in a dress before.”

“I wasn’t sure what was normal or…”

“Pfft, fuck normal.” As his eyes continued to run along your face, you both seemed to realize he hadn’t taken his arms off your waist after your embrace. “Fuck…I’m sorry… I don’t know what’s been going on with me lately. Usually, I’m a lot smoother than this.”

“Are you?”, you tease causing his grin to reappear as he takes a step back and pokes your nose. 

“There’s my work wife I know and love. Alright, I have to finish getting ready but please stay afterward and let me buy you a drink, ok?”

***

“Eddie, oh my God, you were amazing! I didn’t know you could play like that!”, you continued to compliment as he laughed, chugging back another bottle of beer in his grasp.

“Thank you, baby. Now, if you could advocate for us to get more record time so we can actually get something out.”

“Whatever you need. Do you have a shirt or maybe I can get a tattoo on my forehead.”

You giggle as he laughs and shakes his head. 

“No, Y/N. Would be a shame to damage a gorgeous face like yours.”, Eddie smirks as you bite your lip. 

“So, did your mom teach you to play guitar like that or did your uncle?”

The metalhead blinks, slightly taken aback. 

“What would make you say that? My mom or my uncle and not like my dad?”

“Oh, um, we’ve talked about your uncle before and you’ve never really mentioned your father so I just assumed… I’m sorry.”

“No reason to be sorry.”, he sighs as his gaze shifts to the table.  “My mom got me into music but my uncle taught me to play my guitar. My dad taught me other bullshit like how to hot wire a car and how to spend the rest of your life in prison.”

Your heart breaks for him and on impulse you lean your head on his shoulder as you place your palm over his.

“Yeah, this is why I don’t usually talk about myself.”

“You can always talk to me, Eddie.”

The man smiles softly as he lifts his arm to wrap around your shoulders and pull you closer to his side. 

“I’m glad you came, Y/N. It was nice seeing you out here bobbing your head and cheering for me.”

You laugh as he tilts his head against yours and his hand slides from your shoulder down your bicep. 

“I’m your wife. I thought it was about time to come see my husband play his loud records for the youngens.”

Eddie’s throat vibrates as he chuckles through his teeth but you barely notice as you nuzzle your nose into his neck and inhale the smell of his cologne. 

“You always talk like you were born in 1943 or something.”

“Psh, my body makes me feel that way sometimes.”

“Now why do I doubt that? With a body like yours, honey, I bet you feel better than any of these other girls.”

Leaning your head back, your eyes lock with his as your hand comes up to rest on his cheek so your thumb can caress his bottom lip. 

Just as his mouth is about to press to yours, you gasp as you push away from him. 

“Oh my God…Eddie…I’m…I’m so sorry.”

As he watches you panic, confusion floods his face and freezes him in place until you hurriedly push out the front door. Before you make it to your car, a ringed palm grabs your arm, pushing your back against an adjacent van as he crashes his lips to yours. 

It was a messy kiss but fuck did it taste fucking good. 

Pressing his forehead against yours, he allowed you both a moment to catch your breath as his tall, broad frame kept you boxed in.

“Please, Y/N. I want this…I want you…I want to feel you…”, Eddie whispered as his mouth ghosted your neck to your ear and your eyes rolled shut at the sound. “I want to taste you and hear all the noises you make, baby.”

“F-Fuck…Daddy…”

“Uh my God.”, he breathily panted as his hand absently reached for the door handle and opened the back. “It’s ok…this is mine…I promise.”

The metalhead didn’t even wait for a response as he lifted you by your waist and placed you inside, shutting the door behind him. 

As you crawled backwards further into the back of his van, he hastily climbed up your body to attach his mouth to yours again. Placing his knee between your legs, you took advantage desperate for friction to relieve the ache making you dizzy with need. 

“That’s it, baby girl, use Daddy’s leg. Fuck, I can feel how wet you are.”

Your fists grabbed at his shirt as you moaned against his lips. 

“Are you gonna cum, sweetheart? What a desperate little thing.”

The rhythm of your hips hastened as your grip on him tightened and your back arched as the coil snapped. 

“Good, good girl. Fuck.”

As his mouth attached to your throat, your fingers reached between you two and sloppily fumbled with his belt as he reached back to help you pull his pants just below his ass. 

“Holy shit.”, he whispered as your palm took hold of his incredibly hard cock and moved the cotton blocking your core to the side to allow him entry. “Fuck, baby.”

Your arms came around to cling to his shoulders as his head fell into your nook and he set a steady pace.

“Oh my God, Eddie…your dick is so big…” He grunted at your words as he rolled his hips, pushing his length as deep as your pussy would allow and then some. “I’ve never…I’ve had anyone so… fuck…”

“Tell me, honey, please.” When you don’t immediately respond, he lifts his head to kiss you. “You can do it, beautiful.”

“I-I’ve never had anyone so deep.”

“Fuck, baby girl. Tell Daddy how you want me to make you cum again. Do you want it slow?”, he asks as he gradually pulls all the way back till it’s just his tip before thrusting back into you. “Or do you want it fast and hard?”

“Faster, please.”, you beg as you wrap your legs around his waist.

Eddie does what you ask, his head falling again as he roughly pounds into your cunt. Your fingers tangle in his hair and his own palm slides behind your back, holding you to him as your body trembles and your pussy squeezes him like a vice as you cum. 

“Shit…good, baby. Fuck, you choke my dick when you cum…so fucking tight…where do you want my cum, honey.”

“In-Inside, Eddie, please.”

He started to lift his head to make sure you were sure, but your hand kept him against your throat as you rolled your hips to meet his eliciting a loud grunt from him as his mouth fell open.

His whole frame collapsed on top of you as his pace faltered and you felt his release paint your walls. The strangled groan followed by his heavy pants were the sexiest things you had ever heard and as you lazily turned to look at his face his mouth was waiting. 

Compared to his other kisses, this one was much more tender. 

A soft kiss between two people who had known each other and been friends for a long time. When he pulled back, his chocolate eyes met your irises as his fingers caressed your cheek. 

After a few moments, he silently pulled out of you, kissing your forehead when you winced before crawling towards his glove box and rifling through it. 

“Shit. I thought I had tissues… Ok, um, let me grab some napkins real quick from inside and then…if you’re up to it…maybe we can go to the diner and have some dinner…talk?”

You nod, smiling as he fumbles with his own pants and belt while almost falling out of his van before catching himself on the door. 

“Fucking shit! Uh, I swear I’m more, uh, graceful than that…ok, I’ll be right back.”

################

Eddie was an absolute gentleman that night; taking you to dinner where you got to know him a bit better. Afterward, he drove you home and walked you to your door with a smile that you returned with a soft kiss. 

After closing your door, you looked through the peephole to find him beaming wide before throwing his hands in the air in victory and heading back to this car. 

You dreamt about his arms around you and thought about him all morning, the subtle soreness between your legs a constant reminder. 

“Hey. Just wanted to let you know I was thinking about you and I hope you’re feeling ok. I have to work tonight for a bit but maybe after I can call and we can talk?”

You smiled at his text before the realization hit you that his “work” was the website and he still had no idea you were one of the accounts he was talking to. As if to emphasis that a point, a notification flashed on your screen reminding you that you had a session scheduled with Eddie the Banished later that evening. 

Opening the computer, you sat there preparing your speech and apology, ready to tell him everything but when his face illuminated your screen it gave you pause. Before when you saw him online, he usual had on just sweats or boxers but this time he was wearing a long sleeve shirt with a Dio album on the front. 

Still donning black sweats, he had his hair pulled up and out of his face making you smile. 

“Hey, sweetheart. I hope it’s ok but I need your advice.”

“You want my advice?”

“Yeah. You seem incredibly smart and with our last conversation I know you’re easy to talk to.”

As Eddie grinned nervously, you couldn’t help but blush as your fingers flew along the keyboard.

“How can I help?”

“Ok, so I was playing my show last night and this girl…woman…I work with finally showed up to see me. I’ve been asking her for months to come and each time she said she couldn’t for one reason or another. Usually because she said she was ‘to old’.”, he laughs, rolling his eyes. “She’s not. She’s probably the same age as you since she’s a Millennial to but anyway… I loved seeing her come out of her shell, you know? She danced in her seat and headbanged; it was so fucking cute.”

As his smile grew at the thought you bit your bottom lip at the sight. 

“After the show, things got…intimate… and, um, so I guess my question is…how do I tell her about this?”, he asks as he gestures towards his computer and camera. “I don’t want her to think I’m like…a whore or something. I do this for the money because call centers pay their fucking employees jack shit. Add in the fact that I still kind of need to do it because my band and I are SO close to finishing this record but I don’t want her to be uncomfortable or feel like I’m cheating or something. I’m not my dad… I don’t fucking know…”

“Honey.”, you type as he covers his face with his palms. “Breathe. It’s ok. The fact that you’re even thinking of all this I’m sure will mean a lot to her. Eddie, I have to tell you something.”

“I just don’t want to lose her. No one has ever made me feel the way she does. At work I get a glimpse of what a relationship with her would be like and I love it. She’s so funny and sweet. Whenever she’s frustrated, her cheeks puff out like a chipmunk and she sighs like she wants to throw her computer out the window. When she smiles, the entire room lights up. She’s so beautiful, you have no idea.”

“Have you told her any of this?”

“Before last night I didn’t think I stood a chance. In my hometown, people don’t exactly like me. The Munson name carries a lot of weight because of my dad. He conned so many people here and add in the fact that I grew up in a trailer… they see me as trash. It would kill me if she saw me the same way. 

“No, Eddie. She would never think that.”

“Then she makes jokes a lot about her age and sometimes I get worried that she’d see me as like a kid or something. I’m highly aware that a man her own age could probably give her way more than I ever could but… I don’t know. Maybe if she can call me Daddy like she did…she can see me as someone who can take care of her because I will, honey. I don’t care what I have to do.”

“Sounds like you already know what you have to do :). Just talk to her, baby. She… she may surprise you herself.”

“She surprised the hell out of me last night. When she called me Daddy, I almost fucking came in my jeans. I’m sorry. Don’t mean to be crude.”, he grins as he sticks out his tongue towards the camera. 

“It’s ok lol So it was good? The intimacy?”

Eddie’s gaze shifts off camera as his teeth drag along his bottom lip. 

“We’re friends right?”

“Of course.”

“It was the best I’ve ever had, Millennial. Fuck, her lips tasted amazing. I can only imagine what her pussy tastes like. Shit… It happened so fast I wasn’t able to take my time with her but next time… I’m going take her on a date Friday if she says yes. I want to take her to dinner and really make her feel special. She deserves that. Then I’m going to explore her gorgeous body till she’s begging me to stop.”

 Your thighs rubbed together at his words as that similar ache between your legs lit a fire in your belly. 

Without thinking about it, you grabbed your phone and texted his number. 

“Eddie when will you be free??”

Instantly, you heard vibration on his side of the stream and watched as he leaned forward to grab his device. As he smiled down at the screen, you felt your need for him rise as you watched his long, thick fingers fly along the phone’s keyboard. 

What is it about this man that has you feeling like this?

“I can be free now. Why? Everything alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just…”

“Do you think you could come over?”

“Hey, uh, Millennial, I have to go but I’ll keep you updated. Maybe next time you can give me your number and we can keep in touch. I may need more advice!”

Your brain is too foggy to register how that will be a problem later as you type out your goodbyes and he signs off. A moment later, another text from him comes through to your phone. 

“Yeah, I can be there in ten minutes. Are you sure you’re alright?”

“I need Daddy.”

The three dots flash on you screen for a millisecond before he replies, “I’m on my way, baby.”

***

Eddie’s fist barely has a chance to knock before you’re opening your apartment door and tugging him inside by his collar, roughly bringing his lips to yours. 

“Ro-Roommate?”, he asks as his eyes briefly notice the two bedrooms. 

“Work…works…overnight…”, you answer between passionate kiss as you tug off his leather jacket and he lifts up your shirt tossing it aside. “Need you…please…”

“I got you, sweetheart. Daddy can take care of you.”

You practically melt into his embrace, backing him into the living room wall and yanking off his shirt so you could drag your lips down his chest as you start to descend to your knees before he grabs your arm.

“No, no, honey. I said Daddy is taking care of you.” With one swift turn he spun you around, placing his palm beside your head to steady himself. “You’re so beautiful, Y/N. Can I taste you, baby? 

Eddie smirks when you emphatically nod and places a soft kiss on your forehead. 

“Can you say it?”, he whispers. “Tell me what you want.”

His eyes stay on yours as he slowly falls to his knees and his palms reach up to pull down your underwear till you were completely naked. While his lips gently pecked along your belly, your own hand reached out to pet his head. 

“I want you to feel your t-tongue in my pussy.”

As his smile grows, Eddie abruptly lifts one of your legs over his shoulder and dives into your cunt, doing what you requested. With every flick of the muscle between his teeth, you felt yourself falling deeper into euphoria. This metalhead definitely knew what he was doing and reveled in it as his tongue roamed. 

“Oh…Oh my God, Eddie. Just like that…” 

Your fingers pressed him harder against you and his moan vibrated through you at the sensation. As he picked up his pace, his mouth overwhelmed you as he sucked and made out with your clit till he felt your body quiver as you came. 

Rising to his feet, you circled your arms around his neck as he slid his middle and ring fingers inside of you trying to elongate your high. 

“I knew it. I knew you tasted like fucking heaven. Fuck, such a good girl.”

After pushing down his sweats, you licked your palm and wrapped it around his girth, his glassy eyes fluttering at the feeling. 

Eddie’s free hand cupped your cheek, tilting your head so he could see your face. 

“Daddy’s gonna take real good care of you, pretty girl. I’m gonna make you cum so fucking hard on my cock. Goddamn, I keep thinking about how tight your little pussy gets when she cums. Fuck, baby, you drive me crazy.”

You suddenly let him go as your hand flew down to grab his wrist trying to push him away as you whined.

“No, no, sweetheart. Don’t run from it. Daddy’s got you. Give in to it. I’m right here.” At his murmured words, you continued to cling to him as your hips rolled against his fingers. “Atta girl. I know, I know. Cum again for Daddy, baby.”

A string of uhs left your lips as his eyes remained glued to your face and your nails dug into his skin as the coil snapped. 

“Goddamn, you are so fucking sexy.” 

You couldn’t help but giggle as his mouth latched onto your neck and you carefully guided him to your bedroom while tried to stumble out of his pants. 

“Motherfuck—I swear I can walk.”, he jokes as you both fall naked onto your bed. 

“Well, only if your pants are on correctly.”

Eddie laughs as he pushes up on his forearms to look down at your beaming features. Your index finger gradually extends to caress his cheek and along his chin, grazing the light stubble that clung to his skin. 

“You’re handsome.”

At your compliment, his jaw flexes as he tries to contain the obnoxiously huge smile that wants to stretch from ear to ear at your adorable tone. 

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

“I mean it. I always thought you were.”

“Yeah?” You nod, biting your bottom lip to contain your own smile. “You want to know a secret?”

“Hm?”

Eddie crawls a bit further up your frame, gently kissing your jawline till he finds the shell of your ear. 

“I always thought you were beautiful to, baby.”

Utilizing his knee, he pushes your legs further apart as he grinds his cock between your dripping pussy lips but before he could guide himself inside of you, your hand lightly pushed on his hip as you gently pulled his hair. 

His face flooded with concern as his eyes scanned you over. 

“I want to see your face this time, Daddy…Please…”

A relieved chuckle left him; thankful you were ok. 

“You’re going to kill me, honey.”

Licking his lips, you watch as Eddie’s eyes momentarily shifted to the void as he reached between your bodies and pressed his mushroom tip to your entrance. When his irises found yours again, he brought his arm back around and tenderly petted your head as he slowly thrust his cock inch by inch. 

“You’re doing good, baby girl…taking me so he well.”, he praised when he noticed your eyebrows twitch in what appeared to be pain. “Talk to me, sweetheart. Do you need me to go slower?”

“No…No, Daddy. You’re… you’re just…”

“Yeah? Just what, princess?”

“You’re so big.”

“I know, baby, I know but you’re doing so good. I’m almost all the way in.”

“Y-You can…you can go harder…you d-don’t have to be so—fuck—gentle.”

Eddie stops moving for a moment as he smirks down at you before suddenly smacking his hips into yours eliciting a loud moan from deep within you. 

“Like that?”, he teases as he pounds into you again. “I told you…Daddy’s got you.”

Finding a faster rhythm, he kept his intensity as he repeatedly abuses that sensitive, spongy spot deep within you that has your mind reeling. 

Pushing upright onto his knees, the metalhead pressed your thighs flat into the mattress as he watched himself disappear inside your cunt. 

“Shit—your pussy feels too fucking good. Cum again, Y/N. Cum on Daddy’s dick, baby.”

“Something…something’s different…”

Eddie slows for a fraction of a second before he realizes what’s about to happen. 

He sees it all over you scrunched face. 

Licking his thumb, he presses it to your clit as he keeps a steady pace. Again, your hand tries to grab at his wrist but he’s much stronger than you as your movements don’t deter him. 

“It’s ok, sweetheart. Daddy’s right here, baby. Just let it happen.”

A wave of pleasure stronger than you had ever experienced before washes over you as the ball in your tummy drops and you scream his name. 

“Atta girl! Fuck, Y/N.”, he groans, his thrusts faltering as he pumps his release deep inside you. “Fuck…it’s ok…you’re ok.”, he pants. “I’ve…I’ve never made a girl squirt before.”

It took him a moment but it was only then that he realized you were crying. 

“Hey. Hey, hey, what’s wrong, baby. Talk to me.” Your arms wrap around his neck as you hug him and he continues to try and comfort you. “Everything’s alright, Y/N.”

“I-I-I’ve never done that before. I…ruined the moment…”

“Oh, honey, no. No, you didn’t ruin anything.”, Eddie cooed as he moved back to allow you to sit up and he could wipe your eyes with his thumbs. “What just happened was incredibly fucking hot.”

“It was?”

“Yeah, beautiful girl, it was. I’m honored to be the first guy to make you cum hard like that. I mean…of course being your husband only IIII can do that…”

At his joke, you laugh as you reach out to lightly hit his bicep as he giggles along with you. 

“How about this? Let’s get you into a bath and all clean, then I can change the sheets and get you in some nice comfy pajamas.”

“Will…will you lay with me after?”

Caressing your cheek, he leans towards you to gently kiss your lips. 

“Of course.”

After your bath, Eddie gave you some alone time to complete any needs you felt you needed to complete before bed and as soon as you were done, you stepped out of your bathroom to find him just finishing making the bed.

“I hope this is alright. I found these sheets in a closet in the hallway.”

“These are actually my roommates.”

“Oh… well…sheet.”, he jests, smiling when you breathy laugh. “Sorry, bad joke.”

“I like it.”

Stepping towards him, you grab his arm and push him under the covers so you could curl up into his side. Lifting his arm, he circles it around your shoulder and you pleasantly sigh as he plays with your hair. 

“At some point, sweetheart, we’re going to have to talk about this…us…”

“Is that bad?”

“No, fuck, I made it sound like it was going to be. I just…there’s some things I need you to know…about me…my life—”

Your palm cuts him off as your eyes meet his. 

“Later. Tonight, I just want to be close to you like this.”

“Yeah…”, he sighs before craning his neck to kiss your forehead. “Me to.”

###################

@dashingdeb16 @myherometalhead @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @twirls827 @micheledawn1975 @chelebelletx @hardladyheart @spiderxbatty @twirls827

[everestgale]

So I mentioned a few weeks ago that my wrist was hurting and that I was so bored, I was making doodles with my non-dominant hand. Well, my wrist finally fully healed, after almost three weeks of discomfort! I'm free!

...but before I earned my freedom, I went through some, well, phases of boredom and desperation when it came to drawing. I made a lot of right-handed / non-dominant hand doodles. And here's four of them that turned out well enough that I wanted to share!

...yes, those are all doodles made with non-dominant hand, I promise, Procreate's stabilization features are absolute magic. The last page, though, is pure mystery even to me because these are all Ibis right-handed finger doodles, none of which are things I usually use in my art. Boredom is my only possible explanation.

Here's what each of them are:

1. A bunch of headshot doodles of my voices, but I gave them all hair from their human counterparts. I was inspired by Hero's stupid majestic hair and wanted to see how the other lads would look with hair. Left-to-right, top-to-bottom: Paranoid, Hunted, Cold, Opportunist

2. Human Hero with different hairstyles, because I love his stupid majestic hair, and I wanted to draw pretty hairstyles. I'm obsessed with the space buns-

3. Inspired by a few conversations on my BTG art thread, I drew a personification of my anxiety and named it Acheron. I basically made it a larger, more creature-esque version of Paranoid with long hair. I think it's fitting /silly

4. The aforementioned Ibis finger doodles of my human voices, along with the initial idea for my anxiety creature. Left-to-right, top-to-bottom: Hero, Paranoid, Cold, anxiety creature ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

...Yeah I have a lot of random doodles accumulated. I've got two more doodle dumps coming up: one with more human voices, and the other one with ShiftyQuiet. Coming soon!

[sewer-sermon-rb]

really thought this post was gonna have a point until you had to pull the "autistic and gay" card. like what the fuck is the harm in imagining a character like 049 as either of those things? just bc you personally don't see the point in projecting those traits onto a character doesn't mean it's a pointless thing to do, or that it has no basis. sometimes people, especially kids, just want to see underrepresented things in their favorite characters. literally nothing wrong with that.

i don't think ive ever seen anyone insinuate that 049 is a brainless bimbo honestly, especially not anyone that also imagines him to be gay, his intelligence is a pretty glaring part of his character and it's pretty fucking hard to just discard that. if anything i usually see 035 depicted as the less intelligent one (which i have my own beef with, but that has nothing to do with the subject at hand). i think you have some internal issues you need to work through if you think drawing a character in heels or depicting them as gay automatically makes the portrayal vapid and stupid.

i do think 049 deserves deeper analysis than they get from a lot of fans but....this is absolutely Not the way to encourage that. this kind of just makes you sound like a proudboy. "grrr why are STUPID CHILDREN headcanoning my favorite character as a MARGINALIZED PERSON!!!! this is such a SHALLOW READ OF THEM!!!" like.. Okay Buddy!

id like to know what exactly was meant by "fetishes" here, also? like what, was it the men-in-heels thing? or the fact that people headcanon him as gay? none of what you mentioned in this post is really a 'fetish' and it was kind of crazy to bring that so completely out of left field

side note i DO agree that drawing characters as twinks is annoying as fuck but i don't see you making them fat so. put yo money where yo mouth is or don't complain at all ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

And this is a sad life.

SCP-049 is literally a dangerous mysterious anomaly, wants to heal the world. He's incredibly smart, strong, he's 500+ years old, serious personality. I don't like the headcanons on him that are baselessly hung on him by mostly children. It ruins the initial concept and meaning of the character.

It's just as sad when people project their fetishes and desires on character they like only in appearance or image

[acexsmhking]

TICCI TOBY WITH A THING FOR KNUCKLE RUBBING LORD I BEG THAT IS THE REQUEST

𝐀𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐥𝐲

(𝗮𝗱𝘃.) 𝗜𝗻 𝗮 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝗿 𝗿𝗼𝗺𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗰 𝘄𝗮𝘆

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Toby relationship knacks

note: i actually just got done with a full sobbing breakdown so this ask genuinely made me giggle i love you😭😂

Warning(s): GN!Reader, fluff nothing else<3 kinda..

No cause Anon you’re so right, like idk about anyone else but I LOVE knuckle rubs just in general and Toby 100% rubs your knuckles. All of them!!

Especially that little knuckle bone on your wrist tho I guess that’s a wrist bone.. what the difference..

But omg Toby LOVES hands; he loves holding your hand, kissing your fingers, your palms, EVERYTHING!

Toby is a very very touchy grabby feely person like 98.99% of the time. Of course he has his moments where that depression or anxiety hits all of us and he just,.. cannot handle any human interaction

But trust! He is holding your hands, thumb rubbing your knuckles, occasionally bringing your hand up to kiss.

And Toby is actually very open about PDA. Toby doesn’t really care about other people’s opinions or feelings if it isn’t you.. Tim.. Brian.. and Kate. So. Like. Ya know.

He keeps it more PG around them but 100% expect that if Toby ever does wiggle his way into town with you to go shopping he will slap your ass no care

So yeah no one is like shocked by just HOW often he kisses your knuckles. And it’s a lot

Toby pretty much is always with you, sure he heads off for house chores and maintenance and food but other that Toby is with you the whole 24HRS.

So he just… holds your hand. It’s really great actually. Toby doesn’t sweat, and he’s pretty chill not necessarily cold. So like it’s weirdly comfortable and satisfying to hold his hand

Sometimes he’ll hold your hand in his mouth if he’s doing something but still wants some body part of yours

We love the little cutie patootie

Toby 100% is the kinda guy that holds your hand when you guys have sex. I mean it, he loves it. He craves it. It’s just so.. close and intimate like those sappy old adult movies

*sobs*

Not to mention if YOU kiss his knuckles? Yeah he feels his heart tingle; back flipping, doing the tango. Toby is a very big emotion feeler. He feels rather intensely a majority of the time

Like he will break down crying holding your face telling you how much he loves you…

Me with my dog

But he is just a sucker for love. Don’t get me wrong, yes Toby has his moments, and his flaws, and lingering issues. But at the end of the day it genuinely is.. exhausting. And Toby isn’t just some emotionally stupid person he’s stupidly smart if anything lol

Especially canonically

And sometimes after eating a family of five, with your weird demon friend and masked adoptive mom you just wanna go home to your beloved and hold hands

Nothing wrong with that..

Omg going on dates Toby 100% holds your hand across the table. I don’t make the rules

(Ok sure your dates are always at home or the picnic table he built for you but it still counts)

He also LOVEEES how your hands feel, especially that soft skin one your knuckles. He had very very worked hands and just lovessss the differences in textures it itches something in his brain

Ride him, hold his hands as you bounce he will get you pregnant. Sucks if your a guy or mtf he don’t give a fuck. m!preg bitch take that

All in all. While Toby is 99.98% of the time a chaotic bundle of cannibalism, weird morals, demon possession and neurodivergence when he’s with you his only the neurodivergent and chaos LMAO

someone draw Toby kissing some hands<3

: ̗̀➛ Thank you again for this ask I have actually been so stupidly stressed today and this made me feel better. I promise Deer anon and other anon I am working on your requests too!! Just well tumblr decided not to save half the progress LMAO deer anon yours should come out tomorrow! — Ace

[besideprimroseshade]

ᴳᵒᵈ ⁱˢʰ ᵀʷˢᵗ ˣ ⁱᵐᵐᵒʳᵗᵃˡ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ CH: 3

"I want you, I want you, it's like my IQ's going down"

TW: decapitation mention, religious themes?? sorta??

    Current Alias

    Hanakoto Y/N

Finishing the now cold remains of your mashed potatoes and steak you get up.  Bumping into a student walking behind you, they offer their apologies first, a low voice that you'd expect from an grown adult not a teen.  "My apologies child" was all he said as he walked away.  Staring as he walked away you couldn't help but feel a twinge of familiarity radiating from him.

    You’re unsure why you returned to school, back in your mortal days it was pure hell for you.  It wasn’t difficult by any means, but certain subjects had a way of making you feel so hopelessly stupid that you considered just giving up on everything together.  Gradually, nothing seemed interesting anymore, slipping into eternal sleep seemed so inviting.  Much more so than the hours of work that you hated yourself for not being able to finish.  You hated yourself for not being able to finish a simple worksheet, it should’ve been easy, you started it but now you’d have to finish it.  But it wasn’t easy, it was a struggle to even look at the paper, your own disappointed voice in your head chastising you relentlessly.       Gradually, everything got to be too much.  And honestly, you stopped giving a fuck the day you challenged that god.  Praying to an all-knowing being that you weren’t even sure really existed anymore.  Your family was particularly religious, putting their faith in a god that you too believed wholeheartedly in your youth.  You knew that you shouldn’t pray for yourself, yet you still did.       Your faith was shaken roughly after a dear friend of yours was struck with a sickness.  You prayed day and night, begging your family’s almighty god for some sort of relief for them.  Anything to ease their pain, anything to ensure their survival.  Your poor friend who’s only sin was being too kind to stray animals.  You offered up your sweets as a penance to perhaps appeal to this god’s mercy.  One day, they actually appeared back at school, no longer bound to their wheelchair.  It was a miracle, perhaps all your prayers and sacrifices worked, perhaps the god was moved by the prayers of their devoted follower.     They were buried just a week later. 

That was the beginning of this god’s fall from grace in your mind.  Your teenage years were full of suppressed rage, each time you tried to express your feelings your parents shut you down and handed you tools to work in the fields. That did help, but you ended up ruining the fields in your anger, and your parents decided it best for them to have you take walks instead.  Walks were nice, they offered some sort of solace for your bottled emotions.  Occasionally, along the shores, you’d find some merperson that had swam too far from their home.  Sometimes they’d tempt you down to the watery depths with their songs, and other times they were simply curious about humans.  Both were better than being home, in your mind.      The diaries that belonged to you as a child were thrown out, further cementing your disbelief in this god that you had so fondly worshipped.  You hated each page, you hated your younger self for being so fucking naive, you hated that god.  You found a particularly bright colored diary that reappeared in your shelves.  It was your favorite, a special book handed down from your mother, it bore a smooth dull red cover, still had some of her notes written down in her neat handwriting.  You almost laughed at yourself when you read it again, swearing was so forbidden in your household, however did little you write ‘shut up’ without a care in the world.       Into the trash it went, for a second time, it was probably possessed or something.  There went another piece of your past that you so fervently hated.  The horrible grammar, the shitty drawings, that ‘unshakable’ belief, you didn’t realize it was possible to hate something so much.  You bought more journals as the centuries passed, and decided to not throw out anymore, lest that force that brought your red one back from the trash struck again.      Then the worst drought in a centuries time struck your village with a vengeance.  Usually, you’d read in history books that you stole from your brother, that your village would sacrifice a young maiden or child.  To appease the gods and beg them for rain.  The willing sacrifice would be led to a quiet place in the cliffs, then they would pray that their life would help pave the way for the new lives that the rain would nourish.  Then came the gruesome part, they were usually drugged, their head chopped off and placed on a stone for the gods.  The body was buried on the mountain, and then they would pray again.       You do wonder why after your challenge your village was hit with rain enough to replenish the river that had long run dry.  Perhaps the gods looked with favor upon your foolish endeavor.  Perhaps they decided to further prove your demise.    You were currently preoccupied with completing the work of a student whom you shared classes with that didn’t seem particularly interested in completing today’s classwork.  You sent them a short summary of how you completed the work and they paid you decently.  You felt like those tutors that you’d see in the windows of the rich families of your town.  Helping the kids learn their school and life skills.  All things their parents were too busy to teach them.       You recognized the student in front of you, that deep-voiced boy from lunch.  Purposely bumping into him you drop one of your books, “Oh no my books!” You mutter and bend down to pick it up, noticing that he does the same.  You meet his eyes, round and scarlet.  They seemed so familiar… Wait… That fae… What the hell was he doing here?

    “Have we met before?  Once upon a dream perhaps?” He breaks the silence with a cheerful grin.  Glaring into his eyes, you attempt to fish out any information about him.  "Who the hell are you?" you stare incredulously.  He senses your suspicion "Ah, I haven't introduced myself havent I?  I'm Lilia Vanrouge, Vice Housewarden of Diasomnia.  Pleasure to meet you!" he extends his gloved hand out.  And you take it cautiously, shaking it slowly.  Then you pull your hand away.

    "You" the word slips from your lips before you register it.

    "Ah, so we have met before" he mutters softly, taking note of your glare.

    You stand up slowly "Lilia..." you say it as you rise, something about his name strikes a familiar chord in your memory.  "your name doesn't seem familiar but you do" you add cautiously.  What if he takes you for some rando stalker or something of the sort? he pauses and continues "You seem familiar to me as well..." he takes a long silent pause "Ell... is that you?".  You throw a hand over his mouth "It's not Ell anymore, it's Hanakoto, don't forget that... and wait, how do you know my name?" you hiss.  "Ah, Hanakoto, do you mind if we continue this er… reunion back at Diasomnia?  Classes should be starting again soon, and I’d hate for you to be tardy cause of little ‘ol me”.  Lilia gives you one last smile before vanishing into thin air, your schoolbook in hand.     Damn him, wait, why would he need your schoolbook?  Oh, for a bribe, so that you couldn’t refuse his offer… He was more conniving than you gave him credit for… damn bastard.       You finished your school day without much fanfare, as usual.  You stood in the Mirror Room, approaching the mirror with the emblem of Diasomnia above it.  Lilia, such a floral name for hardened warrior.  Well, at least you knew it now.  That explained his past distaste for the lilies that you occasionally grew to sell.        Diasomnia was the equivalent of a gothic castle if you’ve ever seen one.  If you were a weaker soul perhaps, maybe the very sight if it would have you shaking in fear.  Though you thought it to be too much.  In any case, this was your destination.  You walked the long and rather thin path that led to the dorm's great black doors.  Pushing them open with a heave you were greeted by the sight of an annoying freshman who you recognized from the Orientation, Sebek Zigvolt if you recalled correctly.  A loud boy, with a lean build, bright green gelled back hair and golden eyes with slit pupils.  He was missing the common features of a Zigvolt though, where were his scales?  He must be a half blood then, you decided silently as he greeted you with a shout.  You were expecting him to spout off something about humans in disdain. But surprisingly he welcomed you, "Welcome to Diasomnia!" you muster a reply "Hello, Zigvolt...".   

    You follow him into the dorm's lounge, "I do not know what Master Lilia sees in a human like you.  But if he specifically invites you to Diasomnia, I will do my best to treat you like a guest!".  He shouts, much to your dismay.  Sure, go ahead and announce me being here to everyone you sigh inwardly.  Taking a seat on the plush black couches of the dorm's lounge, you two wait for Lilia to make his appearance.  Now that you thought about it, it had been a while since you had last seen a member of the Zigvolt clan, last member you had seen was Baur.  He was a soldier under Lilia back then or something, you never really cared to learn about him.  This boy wasn't a full fae, so perhaps he was a grandson or great-grandson, the hatred the fae held towards the humans made the thought seem impossible in your mind.  Perhaps it had been healed by centuries after?  In any case you were here to see Lilia, not ponder about the racial tensions between humans and fae. 

    Lilia himself decides to appear right next to you, making his presence known with a bright 'Well hello there!'.  Sebek stiffens at the sight of his Vice Housewarden.  "Master Lilia!  Thank you for gracing us with your presence!" you give him a small hesitant wave and place your hands onto your lap.  "Whats with the sullen face??  Don't you miss me El-er Hanakoto?" he corrects himself mid-sentence after remembering the underclassman's presence.  "Eh, not really" you admit honestly, "How dare you be so curt when Master Lilia is speaking to you human!" Sebek cried.  "He's your master not mine" you lean back against the couch, "Tis quite alright Sebek, Hanakoto and I are acquainted" Lilia smiles.  He processes this new information and mutters an apology.  The elder fae waves a hand in a shooing motion, "No need to apologize, I'm sure that Hanakoto has taken no offense" you nod in agreement, "I really don't give a fuck". 

   “Well, now that you’re here, why don’t we discuss some things in private?  I’ve been meaning to talk to you” Lilia smiles.  You throw him an incredulous stare, “You are aware how that sounds right?” He returns with an innocent look “Nope!” and grabs your hand, teleporting the two of you to his room.

    You followed Lilia into his room, "What the fuck??" you mutter as your eyes trail around, observing clothes and objects that were hurriedly shoved into drawer shelves.  "Ah, well, I didn't have much time to clean up" he chuckles "Silly me".  Lilia's room is a random ass assortment of items you presumed he collected from after you met.  A guitar on the bed, a spare jacket and shirt tossed over the wardrobe's open door.  "How did you go from only owning the clothes on your back to some grandpa with a hoarding issue?" you groan in disbelief.  "That, Hanakoto, is a story for another day".  "How has time been treating you?" he sighs with an air that you can't decide if it's playfulness or genuine curiosity.  "Same as always" you admit.  Lilia snaps his fingers and summons a rather elegant teapot and two teacups. 

    You hesitantly take the cup of tea that was oh so generously offered to you.  The distinct aroma of oranges and cardamom filled your senses as you brought the cup to your lips.  "Have you a family yet?" he asks the question carefully to which you shake your head, "Nah, the only family I had are dead and gone".  Your eyes look up from the cup, "You?" he sighs wistfully, "I do, I have a son...".  He says the word 'son' with such love you were almost jealous of this random child.  "Gods, I feel ancient" you tease.  "You're much older than me after all" he grins, before his lips fall into a frown "I missed you, Ell, I thought that you left me...".  Lilia's words run a knife through you, your grip falters and bit of steaming tea falls on you, Fuck you whisper, fuck fuck fuck fuck... you had forgotten that you were forced to leave your home by the forest, lest you be killed by those Silver Owls or the fae.  You never told Lilia, just packed up and left in a hurry, taking your house with you. 

    'I missed you Ell' the words stung with a force you weren't expecting.  Truth be told, you wanted him to forget about you, everyone forgot about you in the end so what was another person to add to that list?

   But no, Lilia had aged almost 400 years and still remembered you.    He had a family.  He looked older, he was no longer the petty creature with an attitude.  He was a father, a father beloved for his wisdom.  Yet he still remembered you.     You were exactly the same, physically and mentally.  You would never change.  You would outlive him, outlive his family, outlive his grandchildren and great grandchildren.  There was something that you felt, a feeling that choked you, a feeling that you'd heard of people experiencing when their loved ones passed.  But, your so called 'loved ones' had passed oh so many years ago, yet that feeling never came to you.  It was only now, that you met with Lilia again, that you understood the feeling.  That haunting feeling of grief and loss.  That horrible feelings that was like a hand closing on your throat.  Choking the life out of you.  You felt unworthy of being remembered by him, why did he remember you out of all people?  When he could've easily forgotten about you like so many others had.  Why you?

    At least I completed something that my brother said I couldn't, he said that I would die unremarkable and forgotten.  You're wrong for once fuckface. 

   You forced yourself out of your thoughts and choked out a little, "I missed you too" before finishing your now lukewarm tea.  You shook those despairing feelings away as someone knocked softly on the door. 

╔══ ≪ °❈° ≫ ══╗

Author's Thoughts

Lilia Vanrouge - 'He actually remembered me...'

Sebek Zigvolt - 'Loud and annoying, but whatever.'

Silver - 'One lucky kid.'

╚══ ≪ °❈° ≫ ══╝

An: thank u all my lovely readers for still sticking around <333 and to all the new ones that have joined this hell lmaooo. plz forgive any errors <333

[astro-vision-au]

[REBOOTING]

[LOADING CHARACTER FILE C.STARZ]

Ahaha lmao yeah the brainrot is real. ANYWAYS introducing Cozmic Starz! A Cosmic guardian on the run from the secontion of universe he was protecting after he failed. He spends his time now on earth in a form that takes heavy inspiration from Puzzles, spending most of his time over enjoying everything this world has to offer! He has two designs, the space theme is more optional for in the event I don't want to draw it, but in cannon he'll sometimes change his colors to not draw attention to himself.

Bro spends most of his dime downing a concerning amout of Pixy Stix and soda while binge watching TV, and really doing whatever sounds fun to him. He's definitely naive, but he's not stupid, and he's extremely dangerous if he wants to be, possibly even more dangerous than Cardinal [hint hint for pt 6]

When I say he's niave like, if you ask him to drink a gallon of gasoline he would do it, cuz he knows it won't affect him, but if you were to try and take his Connect star staff he would break every bone in your body. He also has a little companion named SodiPop! A blue Luma, I'll be showing them off here soon [I haven't made the ref yet FJJJSH] WHICH, Fun fact, all Cosmic guardians have a luma! It's assigned to then at birth! [Another hint hint for Galaxy if you haven't already connected the dots already]

Story wise he pops up in pt 5 and have a bigger role in pt 6, so I can't really provide a ton of lore but I'll probably still be drawing him a lot because guh I love his stupid ahh face.

Anyways I hope you look forward to him!!

Huh... I came because it seemed I was called, but I don't see anything in the ask box for me, i think someome deleted it, but I did find this... heh, Astro owes me one for restoring this for them. It seems someone was trying to cover it up... well then, I guess it's time to do some digging. It seems there's still something from this post that's missing, I'll have to find it.

-James

[hypnagogics]

LYSSSSSS!!!!!! oh you genius. ima start this all off by saying this is my favorite lyss work to date…you absolutely NAILED IT. the weaving of plot, the banter and dialogue, and ellie????? peak characterization, you really don't see skill like this every day. tbh sometimes it pains me you aren't able to see just how good at writing you really are, but oh well. guess i'll have to make it my life's mission to convince you! you'll believe me when i'm done, i'm sure of it :)

first of all the photo you chose— elliesgalaxy is genuinely not human methinks, how tf do you make a pixel look like that. i want to eat her.

she lingered outside, shifting her weight like she was debating whether to knock. but since this had become clockwork, you were already pulling the door open, and she shuffled inside uttering a, “don't make a big deal out of it.”

MY BABYYYYYYY. stop…no STAHPPP. i would not mind at all patching her up, my babyyyyyy she is so cute. the shuffling, the awkwardness and the silly internal battle— UGH LOVE IT. with your writing, i've noticed you are an expert in the ‘show don't tell’ idea, and i'm quite jelly!! you're a master of subtleties wherever they go,and i'm always in awe of how you paint such a vivid picture.

she'd been through hell and back.

what if i sob so hard i flood the earth huh…what are you gonna do. i just want to kidnap her and keep her safe in my basement so nothing could ever hurt her, and i'm the crazy one?

your lips pressed into a thin line, but you didn't protest further. you knew how much patrol meant to her— how she needed it. how ellie seemed to rely on it to feel like she provided something useful to jackson.

AGAIN WITH THE SUBTEXT HOW DO YOU DO THATTTTT i am going to cast a spell and steal all your talent…jk i would never do that it's all yours. but omg :( jackson is baby's home…thinking of the game's storyline and when they first got to jackson, this draws up such nostalgia. in between games one and two, i really do wonder how ellie adjusted, but before we go too far off topic i must continue to gush!

also i love love love your use of “said” when mentioning her burn, maybe i'm looking a bit too deep now, but it gives off almost a little suspicion..almost. can always count on you to be two steps ahead of all of us.

and your dialogue!!! i tell you this all the time but it's seriously so so good, i can hear the banter so perfectly in my head, TEACH ME YOUR WAYSSSSSS

i did also mention i love your use of “pitchy lilt” such a poetic description but it's so illustrative and clever!!

[...] made your stomach do something stupid.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. ok normal calm zen and chill but real!!! her dorkiness istg…there's nothing better than that. like yes she makes me weak in the knees yes i want to kiss her till she's dizzy WELL, YES!

you'd both insist, later, it was simply the sting of the antiseptic anyway, as if she hadn't weathered worse injuries before.

i. need. to. calm. down. the bloody tension????? are you trying to kill me in cold blood is this what this is. i am such a sucker for almost a slow burn like this, both of them not sure, but the subconscious never lies. GOD

“i think you're helping me all the time ‘cause you've got a soft spot for me.”

YES! YES! BINGO!! YOU'D BE CORRECT!! RIGHT ON!! WONDERHOYYYYYYY BOOM SHAKALAKA YES GAWDDDD okay my heart. it's gonna fuckin explode. i will charge you for murder lyss, this isn't funny.

the whole next chunk has me literally biting my firstbecayuse first of all how dare you, secondly, this is the most perfect thing i've ever read, thirdly, the characterization is honest to god so out of this world unreal, you make me fall in love with ellie more and more, with each post. truly, no one does it like you.

".....a kiss.”

insert feral monkey noises. insert squirting noises. insert blowing up the entire world noises. insert killing myself with a gun noises. ok i have no words. wtf are you doing i will be brought to tears because of this fucken pixel its so unfair…

this fic. this fic is everything to me, you don't understand. it makes me wanna laugh it makes me wanna cry it makes me want to scream into the void— you write ellie so true to life it makes me SICK! ILL! in the best way though, always the best way. my dramatic little baby, ugh. i'd give anything in the world to kiss her until we're both suffocating, but i suppose i have to deal with something close because that isn't an option, and that's gotta be to tell you how much i adore your writing every chance i get. 💚

becoming ellie williams' personal nurse was absolutely not part of your grand plan. in fact, being ellie williams’ anything hadn’t crossed your mind until an unexpected run-in left you the only one available to patch her up after a rough patrol. you’d spoken fewer than ten times before that, but after that night, ellie unilaterally decided you were the only person allowed to help her when she got injured. you didn’t fuss as much as maria, or dina, or anyone else—and that was enough for her. or at least, that’s what she claimed. it certainly didn’t hurt that you were cute.

that's how you found yourself falling into a routine—ellie 'just happening' to show up at your door, flashing those worn green eyes and grumbling about how "it's not that bad" to garner enough pity until you inevitably caved and fixed her up, sparing her yet another lecture from maria.

tonight was no different. she lingered outside, shifting her weight like she was debating whether to knock. but since this had become clockwork, you were already pulling the door open, and she shuffled inside uttering a, “don’t make a big deal out of it.”

you sighed, already moving to nab your ever-growing stash of first-aid supplies as she dropped into your desk chair. ellie had tried to clean herself up beforehand, but it was fruitless—her green jacket, the one now being hastily shrugged off, had been covering the worst of it. a deep gash on her arm, the lingering traces of a nosebleed, fresh cuts along her cheek. she’d been through hell and back.

"ellie," your voice carried a warning as you approached, reaching out to cautiously inspect her wounded arm. "this isn't just some scrape." ellie exhaled sharply through her nose, taking the accosting while settling in the chair she'd visited many times already. "it's nothing. i don't want maria finding out and pulling me off patrols."

your lips pressed into a thin line, but you didn't protest further. you knew how much patrol meant to her—how she needed it. how ellie seemed to rely on it to feel like she provided something useful to jackson. so instead, you got to work, gently cleaning the cuts along her forearm. ellie winced as the antiseptic hit raw skin, her fingers twitching against her thigh. unfortunately, the cut had grazed her tatted arm. you made a valiant effort to be delicate enough to mend the cut without disturbing the tattoo—luckily, it had missed the chemical burn ellie said she'd gotten on that arm years ago.

"oh, stop whining," you chided over her complaints. "shouldn't you be used to the pain by now? little masochist. and what's with you aiming for this poor arm so much? you've got two to work with, you know.” ellie scoffed at your chastizing, biting the inside of her cheek as her expression shifted to annoyance but not full offense. "right, lemme plan my injuries better next time."

you dabbed at a shallow abrasion beneath her cheekbone. ellie's eyes flickered up, trying to capture yours, but you wouldn't budge from the injury. she bit her crimson-stained lip, like she was weighing her next words wisely. "you keep patching me up, though. makes me wonder... i mean, i dunno..." ellie stilted her delivery, partly out of nerves, partly to grab your attention. "maybe you like seein' me all banged up," her tone took on a pitchy lilt as she kept peeking up at you.

the way she said it—less of a tease, a tad second-guessing, trying to dare a reaction out of you—made your stomach do something stupid.

"a better patient would stop causing such a distraction," you shot back, deliberately avoiding her gaze while keeping with the 'strict nurse' facade. you couldn't suppress a hint of a smirk though, briefly wiping your mouth to try and shield the small break over her nervous attempt at flirting. you just hated how right she was—no one was forcing you to do this, to put up with her maddening stubbornness and save her hide time and time again. all ellie had to do was bat those ridiculously pretty greens, and your defenses crumbled.

ellie huffed, pleased with your accidental admission but now more determined to coax more from you. she shifted slightly—and that's when you felt it. the light press of her fingers against the dip of your waist, like she had just meant to steady herself but forgot to pull away. her fingers curled slightly into the fabric of your shirt, sending a shiver up your spine. you said nothing, pretending not to notice. maybe she hadn't even meant to. you'd both insist, later, it was simply the sting of the antiseptic anyway, as if she hadn't weathered worse injuries before. neither of you moved.

ellie couldn't disguise her beaming when your strict charade allowed the gesture. she swallowed, like she was trying to decide whether to try her luck. her fingers tapped your side, hesitant.

“i think you're helping me all the time 'cause you've got a soft spot for me."

your breath hitched, warmth creeping up your neck, but you weren't about to let her win that easily. with a little head shake, you willfully regained your composure and lightly patted ellie's uninjured cheek before schooling your expression. "hush. you're being disorderly. i can't fix you up with all this blabbering."

ellie let out an exaggerated hiss, scrunching her eyes shut dramatically. your stomach clenched in brief panic, helper mode reigniting—until you realized she was full of shit, twisting her head like she'd been mortally wounded when, in reality, you had barely touched her.

"you're impossible," you muttered, smacking her good arm lightly in playful retaliation. "your life is in my hands. don't forget that." ellie leaned forward just enough to close the space between you, her voice dropping. "yeah, yeah, and every time i show up like this, i'm choosing to put my trust in you."

she wavered briefly, then added, softer still—only brave enough to say it now because she was already committed to the bit—"and that’s also why you won’t look at me."

you froze, and the second you met her gaze, it was over—long lashes framing those round green eyes, a smattering of freckles, some loose auburn strands that had escaped her barely-held-together bun sticking to her skin from the leftover sweat of patrol. with scraped skin and blood-streaked face, ellie was a proper mess—and yet, here you were, fighting every aching urge screaming at you to throw yourself on top of her.

you swallowed hard. the unassuming, bashful, loserish ellie was nowhere to be found. replaced by an ellie probably still riding the adrenaline of her close call with a horde of infected earlier, caring a little less about the consequences of her words and even further fueled by your easily cracked stoicism.

ellie seized your defeated, flustered silence to keep going. "also, as my nurse, i'm surprised you don't know the best cure for any injury."

you inhaled to brace for whatever nonsense was about to come out of her mouth. "oh, yeah? what's that?"

".....a kiss."

a drawn-out groan escaped you. "jesus," you muttered, cheeks burning. but fine—just this once. you weren't giving in completely, but you leaned in, pressing a fleeting peck to the tip of her nose.

the way ellie's face immediately split into a stupidly giddy grin was almost worth it. almost. her whole expression flushed a rosy pink, too.

"oh, on the nose? that barely counts," ellie teased, her voice dipping into something softer, more expectant. definitely hoping she hadn’t pushed her luck too much.

"deal with it, williams," you murmured, but your mind was already betraying you.

despite your best efforts, you couldn’t stop yourself from wondering what it would be like if you really gave in. if you disregarded all medical safety and climbed into her lap and kissed her senseless, letting your hands explore each other in desperation and recklessly savoring the taste of metallic red left on her soft lips.

snapping yourself from that less-than-holy thought, you deflected under the guise of needing to retrieve more supplies for another small cut you had overlooked.

when you came back, ellie was still watching you, something unreadable in her expression. you hesitated for a moment, then finally gave her a little glimmer of hope to cling to.

"tell you what," you started. "don't be an idiot—which i know is hard for you—and let everything heal," you let the jab sit for a second to build suspense, "and i’ll grant you the other half of that kiss."

ellie's smile widened triumphantly, though her posture was beginning to laze as exhaustion from the day's chaos caught up with her.

"anything for the nurse."

"yeah, yeah. now hold still so i can finish fixing you up."

and, for once, ellie williams actually listened. pic creds @/elliesgalaxy

[sockboioioing]

Some doods

i was messing around with human forms of the sins, i thought it’d be cool to think about them being like. Ancient kings of long lost countries or something, idk

Trying to figure out Vaggies old armor for back when she was an exorcist. i wanted to make it more angular than lute’s cuz she ended up getting too curious about heaven and turned ‘evil’ for an angel in my rewrite, so shape language yada yada. I also added those horn thingalings as a bit of foreshadowing. I just wanted to give her an actual reason for being cast out instead of “feeling sympathy for a conveniently placed sinner child” i wanted to tie in the thing sera said to emi about how she “didnt want her to look too closely into heaven or else she’ll end up fallen” and allat

Im actually obsessed with my redesigns for pentious, like hes probably my fav alongside Rosie and Mimzy, he looks so silly! I wanna make his crush on Cherri waaay slower developed than in the show, cuz it was out of nowhere tbh. His love language is throwing bombs at each other ❤️

Mammon’s human form is probably my favorite of the sin’s human forms just cuz of how stupid he looks, like he was just ripped out of a fairytale or something

I plan on making Husker and Angel’s relationship develop slower as well, and i recently watched a video about the original pitch of the story, and i liked that way better than how it played out in the show, like just little things that grow their bond together more and stuff like that. I also think it would be a good juxtaposition with my redesign of Al pushing this whole smiling thing, even thought he’s physically unable to smile himself cuz of how his mouth is in his sinner form

I also recently watched a video where Al’s pilot singing VA sang “you’re never fully dressed without a smile” from Annie and ive been going insane over it, like that song is so him coded its insane

I also rlly miss Al’s pilot voice cuz it felt more 30’s to me and i miss the stronger radio effect a lot 😔

Luci, Al, and Charlie true form concept doodles, along with a lil Chaggie doodle below cut

I was fooling around with the true, more demonic forms of some of the hazbin characters, and i wanted to draw a bit of chaggie so i did that too loll, i wanna say trueform!lucifer is like. Founding titan sized

I gave vaggie a tweaked version of her pilot getup if u couldnt tell

[debussy42]

"straight or curly?"

Guys, I'm not gonna lie. This whole nonsense started with me just debating whether or not I should straighten or curl my hair today. Wow, I miss my man Levi. Maybe it's with Valentine's day coming up, but I needed some emotionally charged, dancing, jealousy, barely restrained Levi in my life. Hope y'all enjoy ◡̈

wc: 8k WHEWWWWWWW

"Sasha. Mikasa. Should I straighten my hair today, or curl it? It's the weekend, and I want to try something new."

Mikasa, already dressed and pulling on her boots, barely glances up before saying, “Straight.”

Sasha, who’s still lounging on her bed with no urgency whatsoever, tilts her head in thought. “Curl it. It looks cuter that way.”

You hum, turning back to the mirror, lightly running your fingers through your hair. “Hmm. Mikasa, why straight?”

She shrugs. “It’s easier.”

Sasha rolls her eyes. “Yeah, but it’s the weekend. Don’t you want to, I don’t know, do something fun with it?”

You smirk at their contrast and tap your fingers against the wooden vanity. “Jean’s going to say straight. Connie’s going to say whatever makes me look stupid.”

Mikasa ties her scarf, uninterested. “Jean will say whatever makes you look ‘mature.’”

Sasha snorts. “He’s been watching too many noblewomen walk through town.”

You shake your head, grinning at their banter, then turn back to the mirror. “Alright, decision made.”

Mikasa raises a brow. “Which one?”

You give a dramatic pause before flashing them a mischievous grin. “I’ll ask Levi.”

Sasha chokes on air. “Wha—are you insane?”

Mikasa actually looks up at that, blinking. “You’re going to ask the Captain?”

You shrug innocently, gathering your comb. “He’s got an eye for detail. Might as well make use of it.”

Sasha buries her face into her pillow, groaning. “Oh my god, you love testing death, don’t you?”

Mikasa, while less dramatic, still watches you carefully. “You’re comfortable with him, sure. But that’s still Levi. You really think he’s going to care about how you do your hair?”

You smirk. “I don’t know. But I do know that if I look ridiculous, he won’t hesitate to tell me.”

Sasha peeks out from her pillow, stifling laughter. “That’s... actually true.”

Mikasa just shakes her head. “I’m not stopping you. But don’t be surprised if he tells you you’re wasting his time.”

You flash them both a grin before heading for the door. “I’ll be back with verdict.”

—

The morning sun is just beginning to filter through the halls as you make your way toward the common area, boots clicking softly against the wooden floors. Most of the squad is still waking up, scattered across various spaces, engaged in quiet conversations or lazy weekend tasks.

And then, you spot Levi.

He’s near the windows, arms crossed, watching the drizzle outside with his usual unreadable expression. The early light casts a soft glow against his features, the sharp angles of his face somehow looking even sharper in the muted tones of the morning.

You take a breath, then casually stride up next to him, standing just close enough that he acknowledges your presence with a glance but doesn’t immediately turn away.

“Captain,” you say, tilting your head.

Levi’s gaze flickers to you, his brows drawing together slightly. “What?”

You twirl a strand of your hair between your fingers, smirking. “Should I straighten or curl my hair today?”

There’s a pause. A heavy, weighted pause.

Levi blinks once. Then twice. His expression is as blank as ever, but there’s a split second where you think—just maybe—you’ve stunned him into silence.

“…You woke up just to ask me that?”

You cross your arms, feigning seriousness. “This is an important decision, Captain. I need guidance. You have high standards, so I figured you’d have an opinion.”

Levi exhales slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose. “This is the dumbest thing you’ve ever asked me.”

You bite back a grin. “That’s not an answer, though.”

He finally looks at you fully, scanning you with the same critical gaze he uses when inspecting gear, paperwork, or a particularly irritating recruit.

“Straight,” he says flatly. “Less maintenance.”

You huff. “That’s what Mikasa said.”

Levi shrugs. “Then she’s right.”

You tap your chin, pretending to contemplate. “Sasha said curls.”

“Tch. Of course she did.”

You fight the urge to laugh. “You really don’t like being pulled into nonsense, do you?”

Levi scoffs lightly, already turning back to the window. “And yet, somehow, you keep pulling me in.”

You grin. “It’s a talent.”

Levi exhales again, shaking his head. “Straighten it. But if you’re going to keep bothering me about it, just shave it all off and save everyone the trouble.”

You do laugh at that, shaking your head as you step back. “Alright, alright. Decision made. Thanks, Captain.”

Levi doesn’t reply, but as you turn to leave, you swear you catch something—the barest flicker of amusement in his gaze.

And somehow, that feels like more of a victory than anything else.

You straighten your posture before giving a firm nod, shifting away from the relaxed banter you nearly let slip. “Thank you, Captain.” Your voice is lighter now, but the respect is there—solid, unwavering, the way it should be when addressing him.

Levi doesn’t reply, but the flicker of acknowledgment in his expression tells you that he noticed the shift. He doesn’t need praise, doesn’t care for pleasantries, but he does expect discipline.

And you do respect him—his authority, his position, the sheer presence he carries that makes the rest of the squad tread carefully around him. That weight isn’t something you take lightly.

With your decision made, you turn on your heel and make your way back toward the barracks, catching the eyes of a few cadets as you pass. Some of them look at you like you’ve just done something insane, while others avoid making eye contact entirely, as if speaking to Levi so casually might have put you on a death sentence.

When you step back into the barracks, Sasha and Mikasa are still exactly where you left them, Sasha now halfway through a snack she definitely didn’t have before.

Mikasa eyes you first. “Straight?”

You smirk. “Straight.”

Sasha lets out a dramatic sigh. “Of course he’d say that.”

You shrug as you make your way to the small mirror on the vanity, pulling out your comb. “Well, you did say he has high standards. Might as well follow through.”

Mikasa finishes tying the last knot on her gear before grabbing her scarf. “I don’t understand why you’d ask him in the first place.”

You glance at her through the mirror, lips twitching. “Because he’d tell me the truth, not just what I want to hear.”

Sasha hums thoughtfully. “That is true… Still, brave of you to just walk up to him like that.”

You roll your eyes, running the comb through your hair. “He’s my Captain, not some untouchable ghost. You all act like he’s going to snap my neck for asking a question.”

Sasha gives you an incredulous look. “He would if you tested him enough.”

Mikasa, though less dramatic, simply says, “You’re more comfortable with him than the rest of us are.”

You pause at that, the weight of her words settling over you.

It’s true.

The others hold Levi at a distance—not just because of his rank, but because of who he is. Humanity’s Strongest. A leader, an authority, a presence that demands respect with the sheer force of his being. You’ve seen how they sit up straighter, how they quiet down when he enters a room, how the air around him shifts the atmosphere entirely.

And yet, with you, the distance is different. You still respect him, still heed his orders, but you don’t shrink away under his stare. You step forward, meet his gaze, hold your ground—not recklessly, not without care, but with something else. Something more solid.

You shake off the thought, focusing back on your reflection as you finish smoothing down the last strand of hair.

“Well,” you say, keeping your tone light, “it’s not my fault you all look like you’ve seen a ghost whenever he’s in the room.”

Mikasa doesn’t argue, simply picking up her gear and heading toward the door. “I’ll see you outside.”

Sasha gives you one last lingering look, then grins. “If you ever do cross a line, just give me your rations before you get executed.”

You snort. “Noted.”

As Sasha follows after Mikasa, you take one last glance at yourself before heading toward the door as well, rolling your shoulders back as you mentally prepare for the day ahead.

Even if you are more comfortable with the Captain, that doesn’t mean you’ll ever forget who he is.

Levi Ackerman.

Your Captain. Your superior.

The strongest soldier alive.

And somehow, someone you can’t seem to stop seeking out.

—

The morning air is crisp as you step outside, the lingering chill of the earlier rain still clinging to the air. The ground is damp beneath your boots, the scent of wet earth and wood mixing with the sharp freshness of the wind rolling over the fields beyond the walls. The sun is beginning to break through the thinning clouds, casting golden streaks across the headquarters, its light catching on the dew that clings to the edges of the grass.

You inhale deeply, letting the coolness of it wake you up fully. The barracks are already alive with movement—cadets milling about, some heading toward training fields, others finishing up morning duties. The sound of voices, of boots against gravel, of birds stirring in the trees beyond, all mix together into the low, steady hum of a world still in motion.

Sasha and Mikasa are waiting for you a few feet away, Mikasa adjusting the straps of her gear with practiced efficiency, Sasha idly bouncing on the balls of her feet like she’s trying to generate enough energy to get through the day. She notices you first, squinting at you with exaggerated focus before nodding in approval.

“Alright, I’ll admit it. The Captain was right. The straight hair suits you.”

You snort, walking up to them. “You sound so betrayed.”

“I am betrayed,” she huffs dramatically. “But only because I wanted to be right.”

Mikasa shakes her head. “It was a practical answer. Levi only ever gives practical answers.”

You hum, knowing that’s true, but there’s something about the way he’d looked at you when he said it—how he’d assessed you with that sharp gaze of his, how he’d told you without hesitation, straighten it—that lingers in your thoughts more than it should.

But before you can dwell on it too much, the sound of boots approaching pulls your attention.

Erwin and Levi are walking through the yard, their presence commanding without effort. There’s something about the way the air shifts when they’re together—Erwin with his calm, calculated confidence, and Levi, sharp-edged and observant, moving with quiet precision.

Cadets straighten as they pass, conversations dulling slightly out of instinct, as if the weight of leadership alone is enough to pull people to attention. Even Jean, who normally has some sort of wisecrack ready, keeps his mouth firmly shut as they approach.

You, on the other hand, watch them with interest. Erwin is speaking in low tones, his expression unreadable, while Levi listens, his eyes narrowed slightly, his arms crossed as he walks in measured steps beside him.

But then, as if drawn by some unspoken pull, Levi’s gaze flickers—to you.

It’s brief, but it lingers just long enough to be intentional. A silent acknowledgment. A glance that feels heavier than just casual observation.

Your heart stirs in a way you don’t fully understand.

You don’t break eye contact right away. You hold it, just for a second longer than necessary, before nodding in quiet greeting, maintaining the formality expected of you.

Levi doesn’t nod back, but there’s a shift in his expression, something so subtle that only someone looking for it would notice. And then he looks away, back to Erwin, as if nothing had happened at all.

The moment passes, but it leaves something behind.

Mikasa notices. She doesn’t say anything, but she notices. The slight tilt of her head, the way her gaze flickers between you and Levi before she simply adjusts her gear again, tells you that much.

Sasha, however, being Sasha, definitely notices.

She leans in slightly, voice hushed but teasing. “That was a look.”

You keep your expression carefully neutral. “That was nothing.”

Sasha smirks. “Sure it was.”

You roll your eyes, but the warmth spreading beneath your ribs is undeniable.

—

The morning drifts into training, the sky fully clearing as the sun rises higher, warming the damp earth below. The air is filled with the rhythmic whoosh of ODM gear, the sharp snap of cables latching onto wooden poles, the occasional grunt of effort as cadets push themselves through the drills.

You move through the routine with practiced ease, the familiar weight of your gear settling into your movements, your muscles burning in that satisfying way that comes with hard work. The wind rushes past your ears as you propel yourself forward, the world blurring for a moment before you land solidly on the next platform, inhaling sharply before launching off again.

Training days like this—ones where you can feel your strength, your skill, the sheer power of your body moving through the air—are the ones that remind you why you fight. Why you push.

You fall into rhythm with the others, weaving between them, keeping pace as you scan for your next maneuver. Jean and Eren are bickering between swings, Sasha is somehow eating mid-air, and Mikasa—unsurprisingly—is moving effortlessly, her form almost unnatural in its efficiency.

And then there’s Levi.

His presence alone changes the air.

He’s not just watching—he’s analyzing, assessing the squad with sharp, unwavering focus. His movements are controlled, effortless, the way he balances his weight even as he stands observing more a testament to his skill than anything else.

Every once in a while, he calls out adjustments. A sharp, no-nonsense command. A correction before anyone even has a chance to mess up.

And when his voice cuts through the field—low, firm, carrying more authority in a single word than most could in an entire speech—people listen.

You land solidly on a nearby platform, catching your breath for just a second before you hear it.

“Your form’s getting sloppy.”

You turn sharply.

Levi is watching you, arms crossed, gaze heavy.

You blink, surprised at first, before narrowing your eyes slightly. “It’s not sloppy.”

Levi raises a brow. “You hesitated before your last swing.”

You huff, rolling your shoulders back, feeling the weight of your gear settle evenly again. “Only because Jean was in my way.”

Jean, from several feet away, throws up his hands. “Why is my name always being thrown around?”

Levi doesn’t even acknowledge him. His attention stays on you.

“You’re letting yourself get distracted,” he says evenly, gaze unwavering. “Fix it.”

Your jaw tightens slightly.

You could argue, you want to argue, but you know better. Levi doesn’t say things for the sake of it. If he’s calling you out, it’s because he knows you can do better.

And that bothers you more than anything.

You nod once, sharp. “Understood, Captain.”

Levi watches you for a second longer before giving the smallest nod of approval. And then, just like that, his attention shifts—back to the squad, back to the broader picture, back to everything else that needs his attention.

You take a slow breath before launching yourself forward again, this time sharper, faster.

And though he doesn’t look at you again, you know he’s still watching.

And that’s enough to push you harder.

—

It was the end of the short lesson as you were released for the weekend.

“Guys,” You fall back into step with the girls, absentmindedly stroking a piece of your hair, “what if he only chose straight hair because it’s more convenient, not because it necessarily looked better on me? How can I know?”

Sasha groans dramatically, throwing her arms in the air. “Oh my god, you’re still thinking about this?”

Mikasa, walking beside you with her gear slung over her shoulder, gives you a sidelong glance. “Levi doesn’t say things just to say them. If he said straight, he meant it.”

You let out a thoughtful hum, twirling a strand of your hair between your fingers. “But what if he only said it because it’s easier, not because it actually looked better?”

Sasha snorts. “Then I guess you’ll just have to change it up and see if he reacts.”

You blink at her. “What, like curl my hair next time and test his response?”

Mikasa shakes her head as if she can already see where this is going. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Sasha grins mischievously. “I do.”

You narrow your eyes in thought, considering.

Mikasa sighs. “He’s our Captain, not some noble at a ballroom.”

“Exactly,” you quip, smirking. “Which means if he does notice, it’ll mean something.”

Mikasa doesn’t respond, just presses her lips into a thin line as if choosing to disengage entirely.

Sasha, however, nudges you with her elbow. “Alright, next mission: Operation Look Pretty and See if Captain Notices.”

You huff a laugh. “That is not what we’re calling it.”

Sasha grins. “Too late. It’s already official.”

Mikasa sighs again, rubbing her temple. “I can’t believe we’re having this conversation.”

You smirk but don’t push further, letting the subject drop—for now. But deep down, curiosity lingers.

Because, honestly?

You kind of do want to see if he notices.

—

“I mean, we are going out tonight to celebrate Jean’s birthday. I can accidentally slip by him with my curled hair to see his reaction…” You muse thoughtfully as you get change out of uniform and into more casual clothing, appreciating the cool breeze that hits your legs as you twirl in a skirt.

Mikasa groans, rubbing her temple like she’s already regretting being part of this conversation. “That’s ridiculous.”

Sasha, on the other hand, lights up. “No, that’s genius.”

You grin, brushing through your hair as you sit on the edge of your bed. “Is it though?”

“Yes,” Sasha says immediately. “Because listen, if Levi doesn’t care, he won’t react. But if he notices—even a little—that means he actually has an opinion on how you look.” She gestures dramatically. “And that would mean something.”

Mikasa exhales through her nose. “Or it just means he’s observant and has an opinion on everything.”

You hum thoughtfully, tying your hair into a loose ponytail for now. “That’s why it’s a test, Mikasa. For science.”

Mikasa stares at you blankly. “That is not how science works.”

Sasha claps her hands together. “Alright, so plan’s simple—tonight, you curl your hair, we go out for Jean’s birthday, and at some point, you just... happen to slip by the Captain.”

You nod, amused at how invested Sasha has become. “Exactly. Totally casual. No effort at all.”

Mikasa shakes her head, standing up and adjusting the straps on her uniform. “I’m not encouraging this. If you want to waste your time overanalyzing Levi’s non-reaction, that’s on you.”

Sasha rolls her eyes. “It’s called gathering data, Mikasa.”

You laugh, standing as well. “Exactly. And besides, it’s just for fun.”

Mikasa gives you a look that says you are all insufferable, but she doesn’t argue further. Instead, she merely slings her gear over her shoulder. “I’ll meet you both outside.”

As she leaves, Sasha leans in conspiratorially. “She’s totally curious too, she just won’t admit it.”

You smirk. “Oh, definitely.”

Sasha grins. “Alright, then. Let’s make Jean’s birthday party very interesting.”

The rest of the day passes in a blur of training, chores, and preparation for the evening. By the time the sun dips low over the horizon, painting the sky in hues of soft orange and violet, the atmosphere around headquarters shifts into something lighter, more relaxed. It’s rare to have a night like this—where everyone can unwind, even just for a few hours, without the weight of duty pressing down on them.

You stand in front of the small mirror in the barracks, fingers deftly working through your hair as you curl it, piece by piece. The heat from the iron brushes against your fingertips, and you carefully shape each strand, letting the soft waves fall naturally over your shoulders.

Mikasa, seated on her bunk, pretends not to watch but definitely watches. She says nothing, but the occasional glance in the mirror’s reflection gives her away.

Sasha, on the other hand, is fully invested, sitting cross-legged on her bed and leaning forward. “Oh, yeah. This was definitely the right call.”

You smirk. “Told you.”

She grins. “You’re about to ruin a man’s whole perception of himself.”

You snort, shaking your head as you adjust the last curl. “You’re making it sound like a battle strategy.”

Sasha shrugs. “If you win, I say it counts.”

Mikasa finally sighs. “It’s ridiculous to think Levi would even care about something like this.”

You raise an eyebrow at her through the mirror. “Then there’s no harm in testing it, right?”

She presses her lips into a thin line, but doesn’t argue.

Satisfied, you stand up, smoothing your hands over your outfit—something casual but presentable, enough to blend in while still feeling put-together. The anticipation hums beneath your skin, but you shake it off, reminding yourself that this is not some grand event.

It’s just Jean’s birthday.

And Levi noticing or not noticing your hair is just... extra data.

—

The town is alive with warmth and movement, the faint glow of lanterns casting golden light against cobblestone streets. It’s a stark contrast to headquarters—where the air is always tense, where everything is lined with purpose and duty. Here, laughter spills from tavern doors, the clinking of glasses and distant music drifting through the air.

The squad gathers outside one of the better-kept taverns, waiting for stragglers before heading in. Jean stands at the center of it all, basking in the attention of his birthday, grinning as Connie pretends to give a heartfelt speech about his immense wisdom and contributions to humanity.

You laugh, rolling your eyes as you adjust your jacket. “You’re laying it on thick, Connie.”

Connie throws up his hands. “It’s his birthday, let me lie to the guy.”

Jean scoffs, shoving him lightly. “At least someone is recognizing my greatness.”

Mikasa stands beside you, arms crossed, looking unimpressed. Sasha is already trying to drag Reiner and Bertholdt into a bet over who can drink the most before passing out. The atmosphere is light, easy—exactly the kind of night you all need.

And then, just as you’re about to head inside, you feel it.

A shift.

The kind of awareness that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

You glance over your shoulder, and sure enough—Levi is approaching from the other end of the street. He’s walking with Erwin and Hange, both of whom are engaged in quiet conversation. But Levi—Levi is quiet as always, sharp eyes scanning the gathered squad as he moves.

Your heart does a stupid little lurch in your chest.

It’s not a big deal. You know that. But suddenly, every single curl feels too obvious, every strand of hair placed too deliberately.

Sasha subtly elbows you, voice low. “Showtime.”

You swallow, ignoring the ridiculousness of it all as you casually—very casually—turn your head and pretend to adjust your sleeve, making it look like you just so happen to be standing directly in Levi’s line of sight.

He slows slightly as he approaches, his eyes flickering over the group in his usual assessing way. You watch carefully, scanning for any sign of reaction—anything at all—but his face remains unreadable.

And then—his gaze lands on you.

It’s brief. Just a flicker. But something shifts.

His sharp eyes drag over your hair—not just in passing, but with intent. The tiniest hesitation, the kind that would be imperceptible to anyone not looking for it.

You hold your breath.

And then, just as quickly as it happened, it’s gone.

His expression smooths back into neutrality, his attention snapping forward again as he brushes past you with no comment, following Erwin and Hange into the tavern.

You exhale slowly, feeling the weight of Sasha’s expectant stare burning into the side of your face.

“Well?” she whispers, practically vibrating. “Did he notice?”

You press your lips together, considering.

“…He paused.”

Sasha grabs your arm. “OH, MY GOD.”

Mikasa groans, already walking ahead. “I refuse to be part of this.”

Jean, oblivious to everything, is already inside, basking in the attention of his own celebration.

You, however, linger for just a second longer, glancing at the door Levi disappeared into.

Maybe it was nothing.

Maybe it was everything.

But either way—he paused.

And that was more than enough.

—

The warmth of the tavern hits you the moment you step inside, a stark contrast to the cool night air outside. The scent of old wood, spiced ale, and freshly baked bread lingers in the air, mixing with the low hum of chatter and the occasional burst of laughter from a drunken patron. The flickering candlelight casts everything in a dim, golden glow, the kind that makes the edges of reality feel softer, less urgent.

Jean, reveling in the rare occasion of being the center of attention, immediately heads toward an empty table near the back, where the rest of your squad is already gathering. Connie slings an arm around his shoulders, teasing him about how old he’s getting, while Sasha is already scanning the menu, clearly prioritizing food over conversation.

You settle into a seat across from Mikasa, who looks less interested in the celebration and more like she’s simply here to make sure Eren doesn’t do anything stupid. You smirk, leaning on your elbow. “I bet you five rations Eren ends up in a bar fight before the night is over.”

Mikasa doesn’t even blink. “I’m not betting against something that’s guaranteed to happen.”

You laugh, but before you can respond, the door swings open again, and your attention flickers instinctively to the entrance.

Levi steps inside, following Erwin and Hange as they make their way toward a separate table reserved for officers. Unlike the rest of you—who have already started loosening up, the casual energy of the tavern slipping into your movements—Levi remains the same. Composed. Straight-backed. Completely unfazed by the shift in atmosphere.

But you don’t miss the way his sharp gaze subtly sweeps over the room, assessing the layout, cataloging who’s here, where the exits are. It’s instinctual, second nature. Even in a space meant for relaxation, he’s still a soldier first.

He moves toward his seat, and for a second, just a brief second, his gaze flickers in your direction.

You feel the weight of it, even from across the room.

It’s unreadable, just like before. But you know he saw.

Your heart does that stupid little skip again, and you force yourself to look away, suppressing the smug smile threatening to form on your lips.

Sasha, however, does not suppress hers. She leans in close, voice hushed but practically vibrating with excitement. “He paused again.”

You shake your head. “It could have been anything.”

“It wasn’t anything.”

Mikasa sighs, already regretting sitting next to you two. “If you two spent half this energy on training, you’d both be Captain-level by now.”

Sasha grins. “Okay, but watching this unfold is so much more entertaining.”

You roll your eyes, picking up a glass of water and taking a slow sip, hoping to calm down the unnecessary giddiness that’s settled in your chest. It’s stupid—you know it’s stupid—but something about Levi’s pause feels like a tiny, unspoken victory.

Still, you shake it off. The night isn’t about that. It’s about Jean, about unwinding, about letting yourself be a person instead of just a soldier for once.

And so, you let the conversation around you pull you in. You tease Jean about his dramatic speeches, you steal a bite of Sasha’s food when she isn’t looking, you let yourself sink into the warmth of camaraderie, the normalcy of it all.

Time moves easily, drinks are passed around, and the sound of laughter grows louder as the night wears on.

Until—

“You’re drinking too fast.”

The voice is low, firm, unmistakable.

Your muscles stiffen slightly before you even see him, but when you glance up, sure enough, Levi is standing beside you, arms crossed, looking unimpressed.

Your glass, half-full with whatever cheap ale Sasha had convinced you to try, is still in your hand. You raise an eyebrow, tilting it slightly. “I’ve had one drink, Captain.”

Levi doesn’t budge. “And I’ve seen what happens when you lot get carried away.”

Around you, the others fall quiet, the easygoing atmosphere from moments ago shifting under Levi’s presence. Even Jean—who, on his own birthday, should technically be allowed to act out a little—sits up straighter, eyes flickering toward you with mild concern.

You swallow, knowing that Levi is right, that the last thing you need is to be unfocused, careless.

Still, you offer a small, placating smile. “I hear you, Captain. Don’t worry—I know my limits.”

Levi watches you for a moment longer, gaze lingering just a fraction longer than necessary. But then he exhales sharply through his nose, something between a sigh and a quiet acknowledgment, before stepping back. “Tch. Just don’t do anything stupid.”

You nod, and with that, Levi finally retreats, making his way back toward his own table.

The second he’s out of earshot, Sasha lets out a long breath. “Wow. He really keeps an eye on you, huh?”

Jean shakes his head. “I don’t know whether to feel sorry for you or be impressed you can get away with talking back.”

You roll your eyes. “I wasn’t talking back. I was just… clarifying.”

Mikasa hums. “He didn’t call anyone else out. Just you.”

That gives you pause.

You glance back toward Levi’s table, where he’s now sitting with Erwin and Hange, sipping from a teacup instead of anything stronger. His posture remains the same—composed, indifferent—but his awareness of the room is ever-present.

And maybe, just maybe, his awareness of you is a little sharper than the rest.

You turn back to your friends, shaking your head. “You’re all reading too much into it.”

Sasha smirks. “Are we?”

You don’t answer.

You just take another sip of water, ignoring the way your heart betrays you with a quiet, persistent rhythm.

—

The world feels a little softer around the edges, the golden glow of lanterns casting everything in a dreamlike haze. The warmth of the alcohol hums beneath your skin, not overwhelming, but just enough—enough to dull the weight of the past week, enough to make the music sound richer, enough to let yourself exist in the moment without overthinking it.

The tavern is alive now, laughter spilling over the strum of instruments, boots tapping against the wooden floor in time with the lively rhythm. Around you, your friends are caught up in the revelry—Connie and Sasha are engaged in some ridiculous footwork competition, Jean is attempting to twirl Historia around and failing miserably, and even Mikasa, ever composed, allows herself a small smile as she watches the chaos unfold.

And then—your hands are caught in someone else’s.

You blink, surprised, as a man—tall, broad-shouldered, with an easy grin—takes your hand and pulls you into the movement of the dance floor. His grip is firm, his confidence easy, and before you can even register it, you’re being spun into the rhythm of the music.

You offer a polite smile, adjusting to the steps as he twirls you once, twice. He seems friendly enough, his expression open and relaxed, and for a moment, you let yourself get lost in it, let yourself be just another person in a tavern, caught in the joy of the night.

But then—

His hold tightens.

Subtly, but noticeably.

His hand lingers just a little too long on your waist, his grip just a bit firmer than necessary.

Your instincts, dulled by the pleasant haze in your mind, take a moment to catch up. You keep your smile in place, but a quiet unease settles in your stomach. You try to subtly shift your weight, to create some distance between you, but he moves with you, maintaining the closeness.

A polite exit. You just need a polite exit.

You clear your throat lightly, offering a small laugh. “Alright, I think I need a break—”

The man chuckles, still holding you in place. “Come on, one more dance.”

Something in his tone makes your skin prickle—not outright threatening, but entitled, as if your willingness to dance once meant you owed him more.

Your smile tightens. “I should really—”

And then, before you have the chance to finish your sentence, the air changes.

A presence—sharp, heavy, unmistakable—settles behind you.

The man stiffens slightly, his grip loosening just enough for you to slip a step back, as a new voice cuts through the space between you, low and edged with quiet authority.

“Let her go.”

Your breath catches.

Slowly, you turn your head.

Levi stands there, expression unreadable, eyes dark and steady. His posture is relaxed—but in that way, the way that suggests he is anything but. His arms are crossed, but the tension in his shoulders is subtle, the kind you’d only notice if you knew him.

And you do.

The man—who had been all confidence and charm just moments ago—hesitates, his fingers twitching slightly at his sides. He sizes Levi up, as if debating whether or not to push his luck.

He makes the wrong choice.

“She was dancing with me,” the man says, lifting his hands slightly in false innocence, though his tone holds a thread of defiance. “Didn’t seem to mind.”

A sharp, quiet pause.

Levi tilts his head ever so slightly, eyes flickering between you and the man with chilling precision. His voice, when he speaks again, is calm.

“I wasn’t asking.”

The weight of those words settles between them, heavy, immovable.

Something flickers in the man’s face—hesitation, irritation, then a quiet understanding that this is not a fight he wants to pick.

With a huff, he raises his hands in surrender. “Didn’t know she had a guard dog.”

You feel Levi tense, just for a split second.

Before anything can escalate, you step forward, offering the man a sharp, polite smile. “Thank you for the dance,” you say evenly, voice firm. “But I’m done now.”

The man’s eyes linger on you for a moment longer, then finally, he scoffs and turns away, disappearing into the crowd.

The tension lingers, like a blade just barely sheathed.

You exhale slowly, turning fully toward Levi.

His gaze sweeps over you—quick, assessing, making sure you’re unharmed. When he’s satisfied, he clicks his tongue. “You need to be more careful.”

You cross your arms. “I was being careful.”

Levi raises a brow. “Didn’t look like it.”

You huff, rubbing the back of your neck. “I was handling it, Captain.”

Levi doesn’t respond right away. Instead, his eyes flicker over your face again, something unreadable in his expression. Then, finally—

“I know.”

It’s not an admission of fault, not quite. But it is an acknowledgment.

You blink, caught off guard by the quiet weight behind those words.

Before you can say anything, he exhales sharply and steps back. “Oi. You’re reckless.”

You smirk. “You say that like it’s a surprise.”

Levi doesn’t dignify that with a response, just shakes his head. But there’s something different in the way he looks at you, something lingering beneath the usual exasperation.

Something like relief.

And maybe—just maybe—you weren’t the only one who noticed the way he paused tonight.

—

“Well Captain?” You smile, laughing as you sidestep to avoid Sasha twirling with a recently hired chef that you had seen around a lot more recently. “Isn’t the gentleman supposed to offer the lady a dance? Awfully rude to step in without an intention of following through, don’t you think?”

Levi exhales sharply through his nose, unimpressed, arms still crossed as he watches you with that unreadable expression. The tavern is alive around you—figures moving in vibrant swirls of laughter and motion, the wooden floor shaking beneath the weight of stomping boots, the rich hum of music weaving through the air.

But here, in this moment, it’s just you and him.

You smirk, tilting your head. “Come on, Captain. You can’t step in all dramatic like that and not at least pretend to play along.”

Levi doesn’t move, but there’s something assessing in his gaze, something like quiet calculation behind those steel-gray eyes. You wonder if he’s thinking of an escape, a way to dismiss you with one of his usual deadpan remarks.

But then—

A hand.

Not grabbing, not demanding—just a simple extension. A silent answer.

Your breath catches in your throat.

It’s brief, just a flicker of hesitation before his fingers brush yours, just enough to take your hand without giving anything away. His grip is firm, but there’s a carefulness to it, as if he’s aware of the weight behind the action, of the unspoken shift in the space between you.

And then—he moves.

Not in the showy, exaggerated way the others are throwing themselves into the music, but in a way that’s purely Levi—sharp, controlled, precise. His grip on your hand remains steady as he guides you through the steps, his other hand finding the small of your back, light but firm.

For a second, you forget everything else.

The alcohol, the laughter, the blurred movement of the world around you—it all fades into something distant, something inconsequential compared to the quiet gravity of him.

His touch is careful but certain, his movements seamless despite the clear reluctance in his expression. It’s not that he’s uncomfortable—it’s just that Levi Ackerman is not a man who does things without purpose.

And yet, here he is, following through.

You smile, leaning in just slightly, voice barely above the hum of the music. “See? Not so bad, is it?”

Levi scoffs lightly. "You’re lucky I haven’t stepped on your feet.”

You laugh—really laugh, the warmth of it bubbling up in your chest, light and unrestrained. The sound earns you the barest flicker of something in his eyes—not quite amusement, but something close.

The moment stretches, neither of you breaking the rhythm, neither of you pulling away.

And for the first time that night, you’re certain of one thing:

Levi definitely noticed your hair.

The music swells around you, a lively, unrelenting current of sound and motion, but you barely register it. The tavern, the laughter, the blur of bodies dancing past—it all becomes background noise, a distant hum compared to the quiet weight of the moment unfolding between you and Levi.

His hand is steady against yours, his grip firm but never forceful. His other hand, resting lightly at the small of your back, holds no urgency, no demand—just quiet control, a careful presence. He moves with you in that same effortless way he fights—with intention, with precision, with the kind of quiet mastery that makes even the smallest of gestures feel deliberate.

And yet, for all his competence, you can feel the reluctance in him.

Not reluctance toward you, necessarily. But toward the situation. Toward the ease with which he’s letting this happen.

Toward the fact that he is here, dancing with you, indulging this moment when he so rarely indulges anything.

You can see it in the tension just barely visible in his shoulders, in the way his jaw ticks subtly, as if his own body is surprised by the fact that he’s still holding onto you.

You press your lips together, suppressing a smirk. “You’re concentrating too much.”

Levi exhales through his nose, unimpressed. “I don’t dance.”

“You’re dancing right now.”

“Tch. You call this dancing?”

You grin, leaning in just enough that your words are meant only for him. “Well, you are holding me awfully close for someone who doesn’t dance, Captain.”

Levi doesn’t react immediately, doesn’t pull away or push you off with a sharp remark like you half-expect him to. Instead, his grip subtly adjusts—not tightening, not loosening, but shifting in a way that tells you he’s aware.

Aware of the closeness. Aware of the way your breath brushes faintly against his collar. Aware of the warmth of your body so near to his own.

It’s subtle, almost imperceptible, but you feel it—that minuscule shift in his fingers against yours, in the way his hand remains steady at your back, holding you just at the edge of something uncertain.

He doesn’t break the eye contact you didn’t even realize you had been holding.

“…You’re ridiculous,” he mutters, voice low, almost lost beneath the sound of music and laughter around you.

You smile. “And yet, here you are.”

Levi exhales, his thumb grazing the back of your hand as he adjusts his grip—so small a movement, so imperceptible, that you wonder if he even realizes he did it.

Or if he does, and just isn’t stopping himself.

The room spins slightly—not from the alcohol, not from the movement, but from the sheer weight of the moment, from the impossible tenderness that exists in the spaces between words, in the breaths you don’t take, in the lingering warmth of a touch that neither of you are pulling away from.

And for the first time since you pulled him into this, you realize something.

You’re testing him.

Not just to see if he noticed your hair, not just to push his limits, but to see if he will choose to let this moment exist.

If he will choose to let himself stay.

Your heart pounds as you take a breath. “Levi—”

A crash from the other side of the room interrupts you, followed by loud, drunken shouting.

Levi’s body tenses immediately, his hand at your back twitching as his head whips toward the commotion. The moment between you shatters instantly, replaced by sharp awareness, by the cold snap of duty.

He doesn’t say a word. He just lets go.

The loss of his touch is instant, like stepping into cold air after being wrapped in warmth. The shift is so sharp, so complete, that it almost makes you doubt whether the moment you just shared was real at all.

Levi steps back, his expression neutral again, unreadable as he scans the room, already assessing.

You swallow, forcing yourself to do the same—to shake it off, to pretend like your pulse isn’t still pounding in your ears, like the ghost of his hands on you isn’t still lingering on your skin.

He glances back at you, his gaze flickering over you once, checking—like he’s making sure you’re still steady, still standing, before he turns his attention back to the rest of the room.

“Stay here,” he mutters. And then, just like that, he’s gone, moving toward the source of the disturbance with the same effortless sharpness that makes him humanity’s strongest.

You watch him go, exhaling a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

The music carries on, the tavern keeps spinning, but you remain rooted in place, heart still racing, the memory of his warmth still imprinted on your skin.

And for the first time tonight, you realize—

You don’t need Levi to say that he noticed you.

Because in the way he held onto you, even for just a moment—he already did.

—

You scan the room to see if any of your friends are in danger. After seeing them slowly making their way back to the corner table, you bunch up your skirt before striding across the room to Erwin. "Commander, what is it? Where's Captain? Squad Leader Hange? What are my orders, sir?"

You stand unflinching before him, but your heart beats thunderously, unsure of where the Captain went and if he'll be okay.

Erwin’s sharp blue eyes flicker down to you as you approach, his expression unreadable but steady, as always. The weight of command rests on his shoulders like a mantle, effortless in the way only a man like him can carry. He does not startle, does not seem surprised that you’ve come to him first, as if he expected you would.

His gaze scans over the tavern, over the shifting figures of soldiers and civilians alike, before settling back on you. “It was just a minor scuffle,” he says, voice calm, deliberate. “A few drunk patrons getting too comfortable around our cadets. Captain Levi and Squad Leader Hange are handling it.”

Your fingers tighten slightly against the fabric of your skirt, heart still hammering in your chest. “Should I assist?”

Erwin studies you for a fraction longer than necessary before speaking. “No. The situation is under control.” A pause. “But it’s good that you came to me first.”

Your lips press together, trying to steady yourself. “It’s my duty.”

Erwin gives the smallest nod, an unspoken acknowledgment that you understand what it means to be a soldier, even in moments like this. Even with your pulse still thrumming from something that has nothing to do with a threat.

You inhale sharply, eyes flickering toward the direction Levi disappeared. “Where did Captain Levi go?”

“He’s outside.” Erwin’s voice remains as even as ever, but something in the way he watches you is too perceptive, too knowing. “Ensuring the situation is fully resolved.”

Your stomach twists, but you keep your stance firm. “Permission to check on him, sir?”

A pause.

Not hesitation, not refusal—just assessment.

Then, Erwin gives the faintest tilt of his chin. “Go.”

You don’t waste a second.

—

The cold air hits you as soon as you step outside. The tavern’s warmth is instantly swallowed by the crisp night breeze, the scent of rain still lingering from the earlier drizzle. Lanterns flicker dimly against the darkness, casting long, stretching shadows over the cobblestone streets.

And then—you see him.

Levi stands a few paces ahead, his back to you, his posture rigid but controlled. Even from here, you can see the way his fingers flex slightly at his sides, how his head tilts just barely, listening to something unseen.

There’s a man at his feet—conscious but slumped against the wall, groaning, as if the fight had been drained out of him in an instant.

Levi had taken care of it. Of course he had.

But you don’t care about the drunk.

You care about him.

You step forward, boots tapping against stone, and his head immediately shifts at the sound. He doesn’t fully turn—doesn’t have to. He already knows it’s you.

“Captain.” Your voice is steadier than your pulse. “Are you alright?”

For a moment, Levi doesn’t respond. He exhales slowly through his nose, a habit you recognize—one he does when he’s recalibrating, shifting from fight to stillness.

Then, at last, he turns.

The dim lantern light catches against the sharp angles of his face, highlighting the slight furrow between his brows, the tension still visible in the line of his jaw. His uniform is slightly rumpled from movement, but there’s no sign of injury—no blood, no bruising, just Levi, standing in the quiet aftermath of something already finished.

He studies you for a moment, eyes scanning—searching, checking—as if making sure you’re still in one piece.

“Tch.” He clicks his tongue, looking away. “You should be inside.”

You step closer, searching his face. “So should you.”

Levi exhales, the barest hint of exasperation beneath the breath. “Did Erwin send you?���

You shake your head. “I came on my own.”

At that, something flickers in his expression. Not surprise—more like quiet understanding.

Your fingers twitch slightly at your sides, unsure of what to say, unsure if there’s anything to say that he’ll actually listen to. So instead, you just—watch him.

The lines of his face, the way the dim glow of lanterns traces the edges of his expression, how his eyes—normally so impassive—seem darker under the weight of the night.

For a moment, neither of you speak.

Then—

“You’re shaking.”

It’s so quiet that you almost miss it.

You blink. “What?”

Levi’s gaze flickers to your hands, and you realize, belatedly, that he’s right—your fingers are trembling, ever so slightly, still buzzing with the leftover adrenaline from the evening.

You open your mouth to dismiss it, to say something lighthearted, to wave it off as nothing, but—

Levi moves first.

His hand—warm, calloused, steady—reaches out. He doesn’t take yours, doesn’t grip your wrist, but he touches. A brush of fingertips against your knuckles, a fleeting connection, just enough to ground you in place.

Your breath catches.

It lasts only a second.

Then, just as quickly, he pulls away, as if realizing what he did, as if catching himself before he lingers too long.

You swallow, staring at him.

“Go inside,” he murmurs, voice quieter than before.

Your heart is still hammering, but it’s not from the cold anymore.

“…You’re sure you’re okay?” you ask, softer this time.

Levi holds your gaze, something unreadable in his own.

Then, with the barest tilt of his chin—

“I’m fine.”

And this time, you believe him.