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bluecookies02 · 6 days
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yk when i'll come back to tumblr at full force? when they make it possible to make a side blog your main blog
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bluecookies02 · 6 days
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I often get the urge to write the most niche pairings that would be enjoyed by me and maybe one other person if i'm lucky, but i end up keeping it all in the drafts forever like they're my precious possessions that the world cannot see because it wouldn't understand it like i do (i'm delusional)
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bluecookies02 · 6 days
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I might feel like this about certain blogs sometimes but being publicly a jealous loser is v lame. Take your envy and frustration and suck it up like normal ppl do.
ps i have no idea who they r talking about and it doesn't rly matter, they could be the 'shittiest' writer ever and this would be equally pathetic
there is a levi x reader blog on here that is a full on cringe fest . I don't understand how she has followers all her stuff is the same and her levi characterization is horrible. Not saying who it is in case her little followers decide to come after me she is just irritating 🤐
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bluecookies02 · 1 month
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Erwin X Reader X Miche NSFW
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->anonymous commission
content warnings: dirty talk, dp, oral (f receiving), anal, some wine for liquid courage, poly relationship
word count:~ 2.5k
________________________________________
minors do not interact w my page, tnx💕
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"Y/N, don't spill wine over my paperwork, please baby I spent two nights filling them out" Erwin warned from the couch and you gently grabbed the glass, placing it on the other side of you, away from anything that could get ruined.
You were sitting on top of the table, swaying your legs as all three of you enjoyed your night.
Using all of your vacation days for this prolonged weekend, you all hoped that there won't be an emergency since everything has been fairly quiet lately.
You decided to spend your anniversary in Erwin's office since it was more spacious than any of the bedrooms and going out also wasn't an option for you sadly. Miche mentioned once how he despised the fact that he can't take you out to fancy dinners, not without constantly being in a fight or flight mode, and Erwin commented on looking forward to the day when they can see you all dolled up and blushing as they drag you around for a dozen of already perfectly planned out dates.
You didn't dwell on it, instead, you all sneaked in some booze during your last long mission, from a faraway village that had big healthy grape fields that were lucky enough to go untouched after all of these scary years.
You weren't allowed to take gifts from the people, let alone if it's alcohol but you all proclaimed the rule stupid, hiding a bottle each as you returned to the base that month. They remained sealed for a special occasion.
"Sorry!" you tipsily replied an eternity later. You weren't really a lightweight but holy fuck...that wine is stronger than some whiskeys you tried. Maybe you're over exaggerating but the gentle burn of your throat as you took another sip could definitely support your case.
The room you were in was dimmed, curtains draped over the windows as a last effort to keep some of the scorching heat from entering it. The lights were off, save for a few candles scattered around.
Miche sat spread out on the couch, his shirt unbuttoned and his jacket long forgotten on the hanger. Erwin was sitting in his chair, wiping sweat off of his face with the back of his hand, his shirt damp and in your delusional horny mind, it was now almost see-through.
"I would think that they would fund the commanders with fans or something. Or at least an ice pack!" Miche complained, lowering his glass on the cupboard.
You made a small hum of agreement, gathering your hair up to put it in a ponytail, huffing when a significant amount of it still warmed your neck.
"At least we are all off duty, imagine working in that heat" you tried to brighten the mood.
"And it's also the reason I'm graced with such a nice view!" you gather the courage to be a little bold, crossing your legs.
Erwin adjusted in his chair, leaning back, a sly grin on his face. He would usually return your flirty-ness tenfold, but today he decided to enjoy as you blushed and writhed under their gazes.
You keep stealing glances at both of them, and your lips stay parted as you watch Erwin's hand slowly palm the growing bulge in his pants.
The tension was already thick, but the air has gotten heavier in the past hour, all three of you aware that after months of nonstop work, you could finally have a long night all for yourselves.
A low rumble crawls up your spine and up to your ears, and you turn to take a peek at Miche, who clicks his tongue as he stands up.
Your heart slams hard against your ribs and you are sure you can hear it as his hand makes contact with your cheek, softly but with an evident tremble.
"So bashful...You smell so fucking irresistible tonight sweetheart" The gruff of his voice sends goosebumps through your limbs and you crane your neck to the side, his nose finding home above your collarbone.
He fills his lungs with your smell, his other hand spreading out across your hip.
Your fingers come to thread in his hair, steadying yourself while he laps at your skin, eager open-mouthed kisses scattering wherever he can reach.
A speck of worry washes over you and you hope that Erwin doesn't feel left out, but the sound of a zipper and a deep groan were enough to ease your concern.
You can't help your curiosity, and with half-lidded eyes you stare at him, focusing on the heavy length that rested in his palm.
You might be shy but you're not stupid. This whole night you felt like a pray being carefully watched, danced around until you were carefully backed up into a wall. A wall you willingly leaned yourself against.
Pent up wouldn't begin to describe how awfully eager the three of you felt.
"Yeah, she smells nice? Where?" it's not like Miche needed a push but the question prompts him, and he slips his large hand to your thigh, sneaking it under your skirt to rub firm strokes across your panties.
You whine, spreading your legs and the man watching seems to appreciate it, judging by the leisurely timed slick strokes that fill the otherwise quiet room.
You feel hypnotized and if that's not the biggest compliment a man can get...Erwin spreads his own legs a little further, cupping his hefty sack in his free hand.
"You're drooling baby, are you really such a whore?" Miche hushes in your ear, slipping your panties to the side and hissing at the wetness that spreads across his fingers.
"Hold your skirt up for me will you? I know you love it when I look..." and you do so in a heartbeat, crumpling up the fabric and holding it close to your chest.
"Please..." as if you're sane enough to know what you're begging for. Being on display is embarrassing but the rough hand which slowly works you open doesn't leave much room for you to *think*.
Watching a 6-foot-something man fall to his knees would send an average woman into a coma, and you feel the heat radiating to the tips of your ears and nose.
The larger man grabs handfuls of your thighs, pushing them as far as they can go and then later pulling you closer to the edge of the table.
Miche noses against your clit first, teasing your spit-covered bud as he wastes no time to tongue your greedy cunt. Each swallow is followed by a guttural groan and he manages to delve deeper with each lick, all up until his face is full with the fat of your pussy.
Erwin is not as patient today as he thought he would be, that's why soon enough he kicks off his pants and underwear from his ankles and he takes slow steps towards you. He leans down to kiss you deeply first, just in time as Miche licks a particularly bold, flat stripe across your pussy. His moan spreads through your tummy and you gasp into Erwin's mouth.
He slips an arm behind your back, holding you steady so that you don't tumble backwards. His other hand spreads across your neck, pressing just enough so that he can hold your face still. He feels each swallow of your throat, your pulse pushing against his fingertips ever so slightly.
Minutes later you're fully relaxed, eagerly grinding against Miche as the other soldier loosens the first few buttons of your button-up shirt, just enough so that he can slip his hand inside. His fingers expertly twirl your nipples, pinching and squeezing at your breasts as he sucks on your lolled-out tongue.
You flinch in surprise when you feel Miche's tongue travel lower and your heart skips a beat once he spits onto your hole, gracing it with a few hearty licks before his thumb dips inside the puckered muscle.
Once your tits feel sore under Erwin's palms, he gives you mercy, only so that he can dip his hand between your legs and circle your aching clit with his fingers.
It's messy...the way Miche was back to licking at your folds and the quick flicks of the other man's skillful hand.
Drool leaks between your legs, and soon enough your ass is being split open by two thick fingers.
You feel overwhelmed, and as they pump deeper inside you, you taste the first drops of your high.
You know you won't reach it, not now, not unless they want you to. And you'd be a fool to not know how much pleasure they take in torturing you.
They push you right to the edge until you're hanging from it by a thread, quickening their pace and abruptly stopping, just in time.
"Pretty girl...breathe..." Erwin coos, leaving your throbbing clit and Miche moves his face away from your heat with a load *pop*.
You're crying, ever so quietly as you calm down, whining at the loss.
Gently, Miche slips his fingers out, getting back up to his feet. In the rush of everything you didn't notice that his cock was now exposed, lathered in pre as he gave it a few final tugs before leaving it alone to throb.
"Cruel." you manage to whisper out. You slip your panties off, leaving them forgotten on the table.
Erwin picks you up gently and you wrap your arms around his neck, your feet locking behind his back.
You can feel his length sliding between your bodies, and he props you up just a little, angling his hips so that his tip hooks at the entrance of your cunt.
"We are, aren't we?" Miche answers, pressing flush against your back. Their strong arms hold you up, Erwin's wrapped around your waist, making it seem so fucking tiny compared to his large palms. Miche's find purchase on your ass, and he slips his salivating dick in between your cheeks, rutting against your backside.
They hike your skirt back up, trapping it between them.
Miche leans down to rest his head on your shoulder, the strands that escaped your ponytail tickling his face.
"You're gonna be good, will you?" Erwin asks, experimentally rolling his hips to stuff the first wide inch inside your pussy. You just nod, taking a deep breath.
Miche waits patiently as you fully sink on the first length, your heat hungrily swallowing it. He's wide, and you're sure you'll feel so sore in the morning, but right now, you open up easily, letting it fill you until it bumps against the end of the tight tunnel.
"Shit..." only God knows who said it, but Miche kisses your cheek before he uses one hand to guide his cock barely inside.
That stretch is different, knocking the air from your lungs because as he rocks his hips to get it all to fit, it rubs against the shared wall and it's all too much. You cry out silently, your hands slipping under the collar of Erwin’s shirt, your nails digging into his back as he shushes you, words of affirmation soothing your mind.
"Fuck, such a tight little girl, you're doing so good. How does it feel?" Miche's gravelly voice grounds you as well, and you swallow the small lump in your throat before speaking up.
"Good...So fucking good" his foul mouth is rubbing off on you because as you say that you can only whisper out another string of curses.
They both hum in response, and Erwin starts to slowly bounce you on top of them.
Unhurriedly, the pace picks up over time, causing the knot in your stomach to build back up from where it left off minutes ago. The uncomfortable feeling was gone as fast as it came, making the fullness feel welcome.
Slow and steady, they set a rhythm of never leaving you empty, each stroke more intoxicating than the other.
The room grows quiet, only filled with deep breaths and moans and the filthy wet plapping of skin. You can feel them in your guts, and as the angle becomes just right, both of their cocks reach the furthest parts of you at the same time. You babble, incoherent as you try to leverage yourself off of Erwin's shoulders, slamming down against them.
Your toes are numb, curling and uncurling with every pleasure-filled push of their dicks.
Squeezing around them, you make their lives a living hell, and the grips on your hips and ass tighten, leaving small bruises in their wake.
You can't keep your eyes open, squeezing them shut while your body runs out of strength to hold itself up. The change in your weight doesn't startle them, instead, they just readjust quickly, working your pliant body as they now more hurriedly fuck into you.
"You gotta let us know when you're close princess, c'mon" Your throat is dry, but you manage to rush out a quick raspy 'yeah' before your head gently falls on top of Miche's shoulder.
Erwin looks down to where the three of you connect, and he watches with drunken eyes as your pussy gushes around him.
The gentlemen that they are, they hold on until they feel your body shake, your walls tightening and gripping them until they can barely move, eagerly humping into you.
"Such a pretty girl, that's it" You're sure you're already cumming, so so fast, but Miche slips one of his hands between yours and Erwin's chests, finding the small flower of your pussy and he strokes, fast and hard and filthy until your nerves feel like they're on fire.
You release with a loud scream, throbbing *everywhere* and you mewl at the warmth filling you up, flooding you until you're about to burst.
"It's all for you, take it- fuck, you can take it-..." You hear Miche groan through gritted teeth and Erwin loses it, his voice breaking as he repeats the chant.
"There you go, holy shit..." he manages a handful more of harsh strokes, fucking the last scream out of you before they both still, humming in bliss as spend spreads across every curve and bump inside your holes.
Their legs falter a bit, knees going weak as both of their cocks slowly stop jerking, getting milked dry by your spasming muscles.
Slipping out carefully, they help you down to your feet, watching in awe as seed dribbles down your legs.
They guide you to the couch, patiently as you take what feels like an eternity to bend your legs.
They sit next to you, not leaving your side with their hands wandering over your skin in soothing patterns, only stopping once you sigh in relief, stretching your legs out.
"Everything is sticky..." you complain halfheartedly, so terribly exhausted.
"You're younger." Miche insists and he gets a death stare in return. "I’m sure I can find a way to make you resign" is the only response he gets.
It's an empty threat because they both get up soon after, cleaning everything up and blowing out the candles.
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Is this the first aot fic on this account? methinks it is👁
tip-yar : Ko-Fi 💕
commission info
status: open (2/4 slots left at this time)
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bluecookies02 · 1 month
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YOU GET ME.
When words fail me, kiss the secrets off my lips-[trans!levi x reader]
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summary:
"Can you promise me something then?”. “When you do leave. You will not tell a soul.”
Levi kisses you, similarly to how he did the first time. Clumsily and stiff. And then he melts against you.
He doesn't regret kissing you. He refuses to regret it.
He will not regret it once you rip yourself away from him in disgust, fumbling for your things and slamming his door shut. He will not regret it once he has to transfer you to a different squad and after that, he won't regret never speaking to you again.
//or//
Levi's mother had to do whatever she thought was best for his survival underground. He's 34 now and he has been keeping a secret for as long he can remember.
Can he let himself trust someone to keep it? Just this once.
cw: Angst with a Happy Ending, Scissoring, Vaginal Fingering, Oral Sex, Virgin Levi
word count: 5.5k
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Roughly thirty years ago, Kuchel, an underground prostitute had a child. In the secrecy of her run-down hotel room, she gave birth all alone.
Bringing a child into this world and surrounding it with filth and violence was not something she wished for.
She grieved the life her child could've had, if only she was born somewhere else.
If only this beautiful kid in her bloody arms was blessed enough to be born by someone else, someone who could give this child the life where it would not know hunger, fear, and desperation of the underground city from the moment it opened its eyes.
The child was tiny, awfully malnourished, yet its hands gripped tightly onto her pinky finger as she carried them both to the bathroom. She vowed to sacrifice everything for it the moment its beautiful eyes sparked up at her and its cries of life reached her ears. She promised to love this child, even if its conception came from anything but.
______________
Levi’s earliest memories of his mother consist of gentle touches and soft and shaky lullabies she would sing after a client would leave the hotel, throwing a pathetic amount of cash on the floor for her to gather up on her knees.
Kuchel Ackerman had a daughter. Levi was raised as a boy.
Today, there is only one living person that carries this secret.
It was the first thing Kuchel would have to do in order to protect her kid. Not only to keep it safer while it grew up but for the fear that her daughter would end up following in her footsteps, meeting the same hell she was soon to endure.
It served Levi well in the great scheme of things.
He had to adapt to being alone, putting on a cold facade so that nobody came close enough to uncover what his mother gave her life to keep hidden.
Repulsed by touch due to his upbringing made it easier, the desire to be close to people buried deep under years of cries and screams of horror he had to listen to in his earliest years of life. Some came from his own mother, others from women alike. They were everywhere, no matter what corner of the underground you hid in, someone, somewhere was desperately trying to get prying hands off of them.
______________
Adapting to life in the scouts took years.
Not reacting violently to a friendly pat on the back required hard work on his end. Those who hadn't seen him in his first days outside still think he's a savage when he brushes hands off his shoulders or creates space between himself and cheering groups after an expedition.
There were a handful of moments when the desire to hug someone was almost unbearable, an impulse that made him sick to his stomach and his knees weak.
His friends, comrades, the man who raised him. All of which happened when the life inside their eyes seemed to completely fade and they were too weak or too far gone to hug him back.
‘Living a life with no regrets’ is a drive people with too many of them under their belt choose as a last resort.
A human mind is not strong enough to hold onto all of them and stay sane, so naturally at one point, either you let your regrets pull you down into pits of insanity, or you create a delusion to follow in order to keep the weight on your soul that much lighter.
____________
“‘Vi? Are you alright?” your voice snaps Levi out of his thoughts. The bottom of his teacup comes into view as he regains his focus.
He hums, looking up at you, spread out on his couch, peeking over your book with a concerned look on your face.
It's been roughly a year and a half since Levi fell in love for the first time in his life, at the late age of 33. A year of which he spent trying to crush that feeling any way he possibly could.
You sitting there, freely and unafraid like you own the space he lives in, proves that his efforts were futile.
Seven months ago, after an expedition, Levi hugged you hard enough to knock the air out of your lungs, almost landing both of you on the ground. It progressed slowly from there.
Not only was the progress agonizingly slow, but it was also terribly rocky. Screaming matches, cold shoulders, silent treatments, venomous words flying off of both of your tongues before one of you inevitably admits defeat and knocks on the other's door in the middle of the night.
Levi's ego won't let him admit that 80% of the time it was him crawling to you. He felt like he couldn't breathe if he was not on good terms with you. It would eat him out during his naturally sleepless nights until he went mad with the desire to fix it. Bless his soul he never knew how to.
He would often show up at your door, both words and actions failing him the second you let him into your room.
You understood though.
His intentions were always clear as day to you. You often said how you could easily figure out what he was thinking from his eyes alone.
“I'm fine, read your stupid romance junk” his response earned him a huff and a smile. Then there's silence.
Silence compels him to fill the space with words.
It would be much easier if you were to try and force him to talk, then he could quickly get you both on his familiar ground.
Fighting.
You know better by now.
“I'm sorry about this morning” he speaks up, looking back down at his paperwork.
He's met with silence again. He knows that it's not for your lack of forgiveness, you being here is obvious proof of that.
It's you, creating more space for him to talk.
You close your book, sitting up, patiently waiting.
Levi fell in love a year and a half ago.
Levi hugged you for the first time seven months ago.
Levi let you hold his hand for the first time four months ago.
Levi kissed you for the first time a month ago.
Thirty-four years ago, Kuchel Ackerman had a daughter.
Levi is still the only living person to know this.
_____________
The first kiss you shared was terrible. It was still the best thing Levi felt up until that point in his life.
You weren't stupid. He didn't need to tell you that he had no idea what he was doing, it was more than obvious with the way he moved against your mouth, equally clumsy and stiff at the same time. Judging by that, it was also not a secret that he never slept with anyone either.
Kissing you sends shivers down his spine and makes his fingers itch to touch you, mind going fuzzy whenever you deepen the kiss with gentle hands on his cheek or around his neck.
Everything was moving too fast. He dreaded the moment when he would have to confront this.
There were admittedly a few options.
Lie, be truthful, or simply… push you away and cherish what little he had with you in these few months, and then continue loving you from afar.
Levi did neither.
He felt terrible at this point. He was selfish, cruel, and fucking terrified. Because for some reason, when he has you within reach, he can’t stop himself from wanting you. His words contradict his actions, time and time again.
His hands are always eager to hold you, seek out and touch every part that they can grip onto. Especially when the kisses grow hotter, needier, and more bold.
His fingers slip under your shirt, at first only to feel the soft skin of your hips against his rough hands…and then they want more. Desperately.
So how can he explain himself?
After walking out on you for the nth time? Abruptly stopping you from reciprocating and bolting out of the room, leaving you all alone to figure out what you did wrong. Letting him do whatever he wanted also didn't work, because, at some point, he would stop on his own, hands snapping to his sides as if he got burned.
You took the rejections with grace, nodding and smiling at him. “Of course”, “That's alright”, “‘Vi, we don't have to, you know that right?”. You were getting exhausted though.
___________
So this time, when he pulled you into his lap, both of your lips swollen and red from kissing for so long, your hands gripped his the moment you felt them reach around your back and down your long skirt.
“I think that we need to stop doing this.”
Your words startled him, even if your voice was tiny, barely audible. He was stopped dead in his tracks, a gasp leaving his glossy lips as he heaved for air.
“We can just stick to holding hands or something, is that okay?”
He was speechless for a moment, yet your eyes were insisting on a reply, holding his gaze, your legs gripping him tighter to stop him from going away before giving any form of an answer. Frustration was evident on your face, and looking at you like that made him nauseous.
“Okay.” he had to will himself to talk, mumbling it out with great effort.
“Okay” you repeated, a little quieter, standing up on your feet, already on your way to the door.
“Will you come by for tea tonight?” your face softened at his panicked expression, and you knew the question was anything but a simple invitation.
Will you come back?
Is it too far gone?
Did he irredeemably fuck it up?
“Of course ‘Vi, I'll keep you company while you do your paperwork too”
_____________
“And for all the other times…” you nodded, making space on the couch. An invitation.
Levi took it, making his way to you before sitting down again. Usually, he wouldn't be so quick with it.
Today, he needed to ease the ache in his chest.
Fears of you not showing up tonight, the hard grip on his wrists that he can still feel if he thinks about it a little harder. The general tension was suffocating.
“I'm not trying to mess with you either.”
“I know.”
“I've never done it before”
“I know that too”
There's a pause, your hand slowly inching to his.
He selfishly takes it.
“I don't know what I want.”
“I don't really believe that, you always know.”
“You're right.”
You're chewing at your lip, still not looking at him. He might run off if you stare at him too much during a serious conversation.
He hates himself for teaching you that.
“I want to”
“Okay”
“I'm terrified of it”
You hum.
You knew about his mother.
“Not because of what my mother was, I think that's not the main problem anymore”
“Oh…” you nod again, squeezing his hand once in encouragement.
“I can't give you what you need”
“You don't need to give me anything.”
“I want to. I can't.”
He's sweating, his hand turning clammy and slippery in your own.
“You have everything I need though…I'm really trying to understand Lev-”
“I don't.”
“What do you mean…” you're searching through answers in your head.
“Does it not work anymore?” it would be offensive if anyone else said it, but the way you ask is timid, gentle, and already full of understanding.
He shakes his head no.
“Not that”
“Are you concerned about the…size?”
“No!” he doesn't even have one, why does the insinuation that it's small offend him for a moment, he isn't sure.
But.
“What if I was?”
It's close to it, isn't it?
“I mean usually guys think that they-”
“Unusable. What if it's unusable.”
“Can you… not feel good?” bless your heart for always thinking about him before everything.
“I can. What if it was unusable?” he repeats the question, gripping your hand tight in his, his other fisting the cushion of his couch.
“As long as you're willing to touch me in other ways? I already know that you're good with your hands, with practically anything you try. I doubt it would be much different? We could also practice.” your tone is serious, and now you're looking at him, curiously gauging his reaction. Did you say the right thing? He's gonna bolt away any second now.
Levi takes his time to think for a moment. Being delusional, that's what he's doing.
He hums.
“It's not that.”
“Okay” he can sense that you don't believe him now. That's alright. It doesn't change anything.
“You'll run away.”
“I promise I won't!”
“You will.”
“Will not!”
It's futile.
Levi sighs. His heart feels like it's gonna beat out of his chest. Late at night, he would imagine a similar scenario to this. Over and over again.
He would think of ways to drop the conversation. A billion excuses carefully thought through, memorized to perfection.
But it's vastly different in reality.
With you, now propped on your knees on his couch, a hand strongly pulling on his collar to make him look back at you. When did he look away? When did the adoration in your eyes become repulsive enough for him to not be able to bear looking at it? He didn't even notice.
He swallows, throat bobbing as spit and bile struggle to pass the gigantic lump.
His teeth are clenched as well, rubbing uncomfortably against one another. If he doesn't relax his jaw soon, he might even chip them away from how hard they are gritted together.
“Can you promise me something then?”
Selfish.
That's what he always is when it comes to you.
He knows that you would give him anything. Promise him everything if only he demands it.
So he takes it.
Greedily. Pathetically. Miserably.
“When you do leave. You will not tell a soul.” in your head this was too silly. Levi never seemed like he cared for what people talked about behind his back. No matter how awful a rumor would be, he would let people talk. His dick was also a topic of conversation in the scouts more than once. Soldiers need to pass the time somehow.
‘Must be small, he's so short, it would make sense!’
‘Maybe that's where all the height went!!’
If you do leave, he will deal with the heartbreak. What he can't deal with is his secret flowing around at the same time. He simply doesn't know how he would handle both. He actually doesn't know how he would handle the first one either, but he tells himself that he'll manage.
Threatening would also work on anyone but you. You can't threaten someone who doesn't feel a speck of fear towards you.
So he grips at the forced promise.
“Okay ‘Vi. I promise I won't tell a soul. It won't happen though!” your stubbornness parallels his sometimes, and now he relents, finally looking at you.
He pulls you into his lap, like how you were this morning. His hands are shaking, but you're smiling at him, one hand already on his cheek.
‘Living a life with no regrets’ is a drive people with too many of them under their belt choose as a last resort.
Levi's mind is not strong enough to hold onto all of them and stay sane, so naturally at one point, either he lets his regrets pull him down into pits of insanity, or he creates a delusion to follow in order to keep the weight on his soul that much lighter.
Levi kisses you, similarly to how he did the first time. Clumsily and stiff. And then he melts against you.
He doesn't regret kissing you. He refuses to regret it.
He will not regret it once you rip yourself away from him in disgust, fumbling for your things and slamming his door shut.
He will not regret it once he has to transfer you to a different squad and after that, he won't regret never speaking to you again..
As his mind is trying to catch up with everything, your shirt is already off.
He took it off your shoulders himself, hungry for the warm skin of your stomach, your back, and your chest.
He won't regret never having it under his fingertips again. He would regret never doing it when he had the chance.
Your voice is angelic as his lips trail across your shoulders and collar, leaving a sloppy mess in their wake. When your hands grip at the hem of his shirt, he wills his arms to keep still against your hip bones.
You won't notice anything ‘wrong’ there.
It still makes him anxious.
He's flatter than an average man, maybe because of genetics, maybe the piss-poor diet underground, or the lack of sun. Fuck if he knows.
What little could have been noticed would easily be attributed to his workout nowadays.
So he feels your hands on him for the first time.
It’s pleasant. Feeling you grip onto him wherever you can reach as he slips his tongue past your lips. Your cheeks are flushed and warm, eyes closed as you let him lead your kiss.
Despite the nervousness of the impending doom that he's been bracing himself for this whole time, he feels wetness between his legs, soaking through his boxers.
Your long skirt ends up being hiked up and you shyly guide his hands to your thighs.
He watches mesmerized as you find friction on top of his pants, his palms following the gentle sway of your hips.
Maybe if he could get you off like this, he could die a happy man. He'd engrave the image into his brain and replay it for decades probably.
You part for air, gasping and filling your lungs before you press your forehead to his, opening your pretty eyes to look at him again.
“I promised.”
“You did.”
You can feel the anticipation building in your tummy, warm and fuzzy as you readjust on his lap so that you're kneeling with one leg between both of his and the other at his side.
He gives a curt nod, and your fingers easily unbuckle his pants, unbuttoning them and then tugging the zipper down slowly.
He helps you take them to his ankles where he kicks them off the rest of the way.
Levi wants to crawl out of his own skin.
He will regret everything soon enough.
Your fingers slip past the waistband of his underwear, and you ignore the bruising grip on your shoulder. First, you're met with a tuff of thick hair, and then your fingers glide lower. Your lips are inches from his, and you refuse to look down, no matter how curious, you feel like not looking would make him feel a tiny bit more comfortable.
You pass over a tiny bump and Levi's breath hitches as you experimentally fiddle it between your middle and pointer fingers.
An inch or so lower, your digits slip between something warm and slick. Pressing with a little more force, your lips form into a little ‘oh’.
There are plenty of things you want to say, and then a few you want to ask out of pure curiosity. But you have to swallow it down, keep it for later, because Levi's glossy eyes pull at your heart with urgency, begging for a response.
“This is fine.”
“Is it?”
“Mhm.”
“You can leave.”
“I know”
“Are you going to?”
“Not planning to, no.”
Your hand doesn't stop moving, only slows down considerably as you wait for the barrage of questions and possible accusations.
“Is it not gross?”
Was he referring to a pussy in general?
“I've been with women before.”
“I'm not a woman though”
“I know that too.”
“You don't have to lie.”
“I'm not lying.”
“It's weird.”
“I don't think so. Just different.”
“Just different?”
“Yeah.”
He puts a little space between you two, releasing the death grip on your shoulder.
“Don't lie for my sake”
“I'm not lying” you don't mind repeating it.
“I'm serious. I will despise you if you're lying.”
“Good thing I'm not then.”
There's something in him that wants him to fight you more. He wants a different reaction. The one he practiced for, so that he could know what to do.
You keep your distance, but you place your hand closer to him, inches from his own, which is balled up in a tight fist with his nails leaving dull, moon-like crests in his palm.
Minutes drag out, feeling like hours.
When his breath comes out in a shudder, it's a sign that he let himself fall, trusting your words.
You grin when he looks your way again, and he takes your hand in his.
He's pulling you off the couch, stumbling across the room as he drags you behind him. At the door of his bedroom, you feel like you need to kiss him in order to breathe.
Your back ends up pressed to the wooden door then, strong arms picking you up.
Your legs find home around his hips, your arms secured tightly around his neck as he devours your mouth. He pulls your plump lips between his teeth, groaning lowly once your naked chest presses against his.
One of his hands snakes up your side and to the back of your neck, fingers lodging into your hair to keep your head from hitting against the door as you hungrily lick into his mouth.
You fumble for the handle, pushing the door open with your elbow. You feel hot all over, skin burning and shining in sweet sweat that Levi licks off your throat, baring his teeth to the junction of your neck and shoulders to stifle the moans that threaten to surge out when you rack your nails down his back.
He lowers you on the bed slowly, watching as you clumsily get your skirt and underwear off.
He towers over you within seconds, finding a place between your legs that spread out for him eagerly.
He's eating you with his eyes alone, and it sends goosebumps through your spine.
“You're…” his pale skin turns unrecognizably red, and you can see him struggling to come up with any more words.
“Just do whatever, I don't care ‘Vi, just touch me, c'mon…”  
He nods, faltering for a moment before he smooths his finger across your heat experimentally. He massages the fat beside your folds with his thumb, the hairs there wet, sticking together due to your arousal.
Being touched by someone feels very much different than it does with your own fingers, you knew that already. But being slowly explored by someone who is desperately trying to learn everything about your body must take the cake.
Levi watches you, every breath you take, and every movement of your hips that buck off the bed. He takes in every gasp and moan rushing past your gorgeous lips as he presses and dips with his fingers.
He spreads your wetness around, coating your clit to make the flicks of his thumb against it smooth. He's not as helpless as he feared he would be, on the contrary, it turns out that it comes relatively easy to excel in something if you already know how to do it to yourself.
And as you mentioned earlier, he does have a way with his hands with everything he picks up. He feels a sense of pride when you start rutting against his hand, hungry for his touch while also being wildly unashamed to show it to him.
“Fuck me, ‘Vi, please for the love of God” you mewl as he takes your hood between two boney fingers, tugging and massaging there.
“Yeah…okay” his voice is raspy, sounding like a purr as he comes close to your face, propping himself on his elbow.
His fingers slowly dip inside you, and he's there to catch your moan as he sinks into you with ease, all the way to his knuckles.
“You're so gorgeous…” he whispers it like it's a secret. You know that saying things like that takes effort from him, not for the lack of meaning behind them.
You see the words at the tip of his tongue often, but hearing them out loud was a rarity.
“You're breathtaking” and now you're being truly spoiled, his fingers rocking into you…slow at first.
“It feels like I'd die without you.”
“Me too” 
The confessions hang in the air, and they're deeper than ‘I love you’s’. They express the uncontainable need of two people, drunk on the feeling of each other to the point where they feel like their hearts would simply stop if something ripped them away.
“I'm close, it's embarrassing” 
The tempo of his thrusts is now steady, and he watches as you snake your hand between your bodies, touching yourself to his pace.
He holds his breath, mesmerized by your movements. You're everything, and he can't keep his eyes off of you. Your cunt hugging his fingers, leaking into his open palm as you grind your hips to meet him, your fingers flicking at your gorgeous bud with urgency.
All the while, you scramble to moan his name, to beg him not to stop, to plea for him to fuck you just like this until you fucking pass out.
You cum with a loud cry, all over his hand, all over his perfectly made bed and clean sheets, and he already wants you to do it again and you haven't even stopped shaking from the first wave of your orgasm.
Your legs close around his arm, tightly locking him in place where he can only curl his fingers into your soft walls to help you ride out your high. 
He stares with wide eyes as you slump back against the mattress, chest heaving, blissed out of your mind. And you don’t hate him. And you didn’t run. And he will never let you go now.
You release his hand soon enough, collecting yourself. 
Feeling strength come back to your legs, you prop yourself up, pushing Levi under you with ease only explained by his utter willingness to let you take whatever you want from him.
Sweet surrender. Your hands are back on his skin, lips tickling their way between his chest and to his stomach, kissing your way above the hem of his underwear. He finds the part of his brain that yells at him to be careful, and he crushes it.
You strip him fully bare now, anticipation building up once again.
You want to eat him alive, hooking his leg over your shoulder and biting the inside of his thighs, soaking in his shivers and the frantic rush of his hand to cover his mouth.
Your eyes are purely dark, and you're still smiling at him. In a way that makes Levi’s heart race. Adrenaline courses through him, it feels similar to how it is when he's out on missions, focused, on edge and patiently waiting for the creatures to launch at him at any moment.
Is comparing you to a titan truly what his brain is doing right now?
No…not in that sense. He feels like he's being hunted, looked at like he's just a piece of meat hanging on a stick, being circled around for the sole amusement of the beasts.
You nibble at his skin again, jerking his attention down at you.
“This okay?”  
Levi wants to crawl in a hole and die out of embarrassment, your face inches away from his pussy.
He hasn't been this turned on in his life. 
“‘Vi?” you lean your cheek on his thigh, nuzzling against it.
“Yes.” 
And then you're wrapping your arms around his muscley legs, flatting your tongue against him and swiping in one well swoop before he hears you humming approvingly.
“Must you be so shameless” You nose at his clit, ignoring his comment. He smells divine. The taste that lingers on your tongue compels you to dive in again for more. 
At first, it doesn't feel like much, barely there friction that only tickled him ever so often. You take your time with him, peering up occasionally as you proudly swallow him down. Your chin and nose were a mess already. 
Once you made sure that every part of him was licked clean, you finally closed your lips over his engorged clit. It laid heavy on your tongue, and as you sucked your cheeks in, Levi found your hands and pulled them over his stomach so that he could hold them to ground himself. 
“Fuck…hng. Listen I-” You swirl him inside your mouth, pulling off with a pop so that you can tongue at his slit where fresh arousal seeps into your tastebuds. His eyes roll to the back of his skull and the vibrations of your humms drive him even more insane.
“My Walls, wait a second!” it feels amazing. He hates being greedy like this. He doesn’t want to ruin anything. But he needs to feel you.
He has no idea how. He needs more and closer. 
How did he live without your touch before this?
“Come up.”
“Bossy…” 
You listen, crawling up to him.
“Need more baby?” 
“Shut up.”
“What is it then?” 
You’re so mean. You should give mercy for his poor, old man's heart.
“Here…follow what I do.” Ordering him around is an ego boost. Finally, there’s something you’re better at than him(future will show that that won’t last long).
You push one of your legs under his, lifting your other one so that he can position himself. As he’s doing that, you take his other leg and you place it on your shoulder swiftly, hugging it to your chest before you let your full weight press against him. 
“This better?” you rock your hips languidly, waiting for his reaction. 
“Fuck, okay…yeah…it's. Yeah.” He props himself up on his elbows, angling himself a little better.
You watch mesmerized between your bodies, the slow glides of your drooling folds, the shy bumps of your clits against one another.
It takes a while for the friction to build up, a few minutes until your movements sync up, the up and down motion of your hips timing perfectly with each other. 
Levi’s hair is damp with sweat, sticking to his forehead, eyelashes fluttering while he struggles to keep his eyes open. He wants to learn, wants to lead the pace next time, make you feel good and spoil you. He needs to remember every little thing about you, what makes you tick, what drives you insane.
He balances on one arm, his other supporting the fluent rolls of your hips with firm pressure on your thigh. 
The dim lighting accentuates his build. The pale, jagged scars scattered across his body make him all the more beautiful to look at. They show his strength, endurance, and ferocity…and this same body that has been fighting to survive for most of its life is writhing under you, trusting you to handle it with care.
The hand he holds you with has many small cuts, they're impossible to count, whereas the pads of his fingers are rough, toughened up from holding the blades so often.
When you pay closer attention to his legs, there are strips of skin where hair doesn't grow anymore. You recognize the placement of the gear straps easily. Many soldiers share the same markings, but his are especially attractive. 
Is that even a thing that can be considered particularly attractive? Lack of hair in weird places?
Doesn't really matter because apparently, if it’s on Levi, it's sinfully hot.
You shift your attention back to his face. His eyes are dimmed and dark, the blueish hue barely there. His mouth is slacked open, eyebrows slightly furrowed.
You can feel hot blood rushing through your body, tips of your fingers tingly. You hold your breath and you flex the muscles of your stomach, the coil in your gut threatening to snap oh so so soon.
“A little more, please… fuck I'm right there ‘Vi. You with me?” 
“Hmhm…yeah. I think so. yeah? Shit.” 
He overthinks it for a second.
Will he look weird? Will his face be pleasant to look at? Nobody ever saw him like this, he doubts anyone else ever will. If he could stuff a pillow into his face he would.
“ ‘Vi, gonna make me cum again, holy shit.”  
Oh.
That's what matters the most.
You feeling good. Because of him. With him?
“I've got you, yeah, c’mon, cum for me gorgeous…” he blushes at his own words, heisting the pace to help you both get there.
Soon everything goes still, gasps and grunts bouncing off the walls as you both release, one following after the other. Before you squeeze your eyes shut, you latch onto the image of him, captivated and awestruck by his expression.
Your second orgasm is mindnumbing, leaving your brain a mush.
You clutch at his leg and he squeezes yours as you both slow down to a stop. The sheets beneath you are soaked through, slightly uncomfortable as you both scramble and stretch your sore limbs.
You lay onto Levi's chest and he wraps you in his arms, tucking his chin at the top of your head. His heartbeat slowly becomes regular, and your breath evens out.
He feels like he needs to say something. Is he supposed to say anything after? 
He decides that he won't ruin the silence, no matter how badly he wants to sabotage the tender moment.
You stroke his side with your thumb, going in tiny circles, and he replies by lightly scratching your back, falling into a steady rhythm.
Thirty-four years ago, Kuchel Ackerman had a daughter. 
One more person knows and the world didn't end.
Levi sleeps through the whole night and in the morning, he doesn't run.
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Phew, I wrote this in one sitting and even now I have 20 more ideas for this plot. Old man pussy is a prison.
I would just like to clarify that reader isn't 'oblivious' to the existence of trans people by choice. It was mainly because I tried to keep to the canon timeframe, and in like 800's I don't know if such a thing would exist in the first place? It's definitely a very peculiar and specific situation that I had in mind aswell.
All in all, thank you for making it this far! Mwah💕
tip-yar : Ko-Fi 💕
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bluecookies02 · 1 month
Text
When words fail me, kiss the secrets off my lips-[trans!levi x reader]
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summary:
"Can you promise me something then?”. “When you do leave. You will not tell a soul.”
Levi kisses you, similarly to how he did the first time. Clumsily and stiff. And then he melts against you.
He doesn't regret kissing you. He refuses to regret it.
He will not regret it once you rip yourself away from him in disgust, fumbling for your things and slamming his door shut. He will not regret it once he has to transfer you to a different squad and after that, he won't regret never speaking to you again.
//or//
Levi's mother had to do whatever she thought was best for his survival underground. He's 34 now and he has been keeping a secret for as long he can remember.
Can he let himself trust someone to keep it? Just this once.
cw: Angst with a Happy Ending, Scissoring, Vaginal Fingering, Oral Sex, Virgin Levi
word count: 5.5k
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Roughly thirty years ago, Kuchel, an underground prostitute had a child. In the secrecy of her run-down hotel room, she gave birth all alone.
Bringing a child into this world and surrounding it with filth and violence was not something she wished for.
She grieved the life her child could've had, if only she was born somewhere else.
If only this beautiful kid in her bloody arms was blessed enough to be born by someone else, someone who could give this child the life where it would not know hunger, fear, and desperation of the underground city from the moment it opened its eyes.
The child was tiny, awfully malnourished, yet its hands gripped tightly onto her pinky finger as she carried them both to the bathroom. She vowed to sacrifice everything for it the moment its beautiful eyes sparked up at her and its cries of life reached her ears. She promised to love this child, even if its conception came from anything but.
______________
Levi’s earliest memories of his mother consist of gentle touches and soft and shaky lullabies she would sing after a client would leave the hotel, throwing a pathetic amount of cash on the floor for her to gather up on her knees.
Kuchel Ackerman had a daughter. Levi was raised as a boy.
Today, there is only one living person that carries this secret.
It was the first thing Kuchel would have to do in order to protect her kid. Not only to keep it safer while it grew up but for the fear that her daughter would end up following in her footsteps, meeting the same hell she was soon to endure.
It served Levi well in the great scheme of things.
He had to adapt to being alone, putting on a cold facade so that nobody came close enough to uncover what his mother gave her life to keep hidden.
Repulsed by touch due to his upbringing made it easier, the desire to be close to people buried deep under years of cries and screams of horror he had to listen to in his earliest years of life. Some came from his own mother, others from women alike. They were everywhere, no matter what corner of the underground you hid in, someone, somewhere was desperately trying to get prying hands off of them.
______________
Adapting to life in the scouts took years.
Not reacting violently to a friendly pat on the back required hard work on his end. Those who hadn't seen him in his first days outside still think he's a savage when he brushes hands off his shoulders or creates space between himself and cheering groups after an expedition.
There were a handful of moments when the desire to hug someone was almost unbearable, an impulse that made him sick to his stomach and his knees weak.
His friends, comrades, the man who raised him. All of which happened when the life inside their eyes seemed to completely fade and they were too weak or too far gone to hug him back.
‘Living a life with no regrets’ is a drive people with too many of them under their belt choose as a last resort.
A human mind is not strong enough to hold onto all of them and stay sane, so naturally at one point, either you let your regrets pull you down into pits of insanity, or you create a delusion to follow in order to keep the weight on your soul that much lighter.
____________
“‘Vi? Are you alright?” your voice snaps Levi out of his thoughts. The bottom of his teacup comes into view as he regains his focus.
He hums, looking up at you, spread out on his couch, peeking over your book with a concerned look on your face.
It's been roughly a year and a half since Levi fell in love for the first time in his life, at the late age of 33. A year of which he spent trying to crush that feeling any way he possibly could.
You sitting there, freely and unafraid like you own the space he lives in, proves that his efforts were futile.
Seven months ago, after an expedition, Levi hugged you hard enough to knock the air out of your lungs, almost landing both of you on the ground. It progressed slowly from there.
Not only was the progress agonizingly slow, but it was also terribly rocky. Screaming matches, cold shoulders, silent treatments, venomous words flying off of both of your tongues before one of you inevitably admits defeat and knocks on the other's door in the middle of the night.
Levi's ego won't let him admit that 80% of the time it was him crawling to you. He felt like he couldn't breathe if he was not on good terms with you. It would eat him out during his naturally sleepless nights until he went mad with the desire to fix it. Bless his soul he never knew how to.
He would often show up at your door, both words and actions failing him the second you let him into your room.
You understood though.
His intentions were always clear as day to you. You often said how you could easily figure out what he was thinking from his eyes alone.
“I'm fine, read your stupid romance junk” his response earned him a huff and a smile. Then there's silence.
Silence compels him to fill the space with words.
It would be much easier if you were to try and force him to talk, then he could quickly get you both on his familiar ground.
Fighting.
You know better by now.
“I'm sorry about this morning” he speaks up, looking back down at his paperwork.
He's met with silence again. He knows that it's not for your lack of forgiveness, you being here is obvious proof of that.
It's you, creating more space for him to talk.
You close your book, sitting up, patiently waiting.
Levi fell in love a year and a half ago.
Levi hugged you for the first time seven months ago.
Levi let you hold his hand for the first time four months ago.
Levi kissed you for the first time a month ago.
Thirty-four years ago, Kuchel Ackerman had a daughter.
Levi is still the only living person to know this.
_____________
The first kiss you shared was terrible. It was still the best thing Levi felt up until that point in his life.
You weren't stupid. He didn't need to tell you that he had no idea what he was doing, it was more than obvious with the way he moved against your mouth, equally clumsy and stiff at the same time. Judging by that, it was also not a secret that he never slept with anyone either.
Kissing you sends shivers down his spine and makes his fingers itch to touch you, mind going fuzzy whenever you deepen the kiss with gentle hands on his cheek or around his neck.
Everything was moving too fast. He dreaded the moment when he would have to confront this.
There were admittedly a few options.
Lie, be truthful, or simply… push you away and cherish what little he had with you in these few months, and then continue loving you from afar.
Levi did neither.
He felt terrible at this point. He was selfish, cruel, and fucking terrified. Because for some reason, when he has you within reach, he can’t stop himself from wanting you. His words contradict his actions, time and time again.
His hands are always eager to hold you, seek out and touch every part that they can grip onto. Especially when the kisses grow hotter, needier, and more bold.
His fingers slip under your shirt, at first only to feel the soft skin of your hips against his rough hands…and then they want more. Desperately.
So how can he explain himself?
After walking out on you for the nth time? Abruptly stopping you from reciprocating and bolting out of the room, leaving you all alone to figure out what you did wrong. Letting him do whatever he wanted also didn't work, because, at some point, he would stop on his own, hands snapping to his sides as if he got burned.
You took the rejections with grace, nodding and smiling at him. “Of course”, “That's alright”, “‘Vi, we don't have to, you know that right?”. You were getting exhausted though.
___________
So this time, when he pulled you into his lap, both of your lips swollen and red from kissing for so long, your hands gripped his the moment you felt them reach around your back and down your long skirt.
“I think that we need to stop doing this.”
Your words startled him, even if your voice was tiny, barely audible. He was stopped dead in his tracks, a gasp leaving his glossy lips as he heaved for air.
“We can just stick to holding hands or something, is that okay?”
He was speechless for a moment, yet your eyes were insisting on a reply, holding his gaze, your legs gripping him tighter to stop him from going away before giving any form of an answer. Frustration was evident on your face, and looking at you like that made him nauseous.
“Okay.” he had to will himself to talk, mumbling it out with great effort.
“Okay” you repeated, a little quieter, standing up on your feet, already on your way to the door.
“Will you come by for tea tonight?” your face softened at his panicked expression, and you knew the question was anything but a simple invitation.
Will you come back?
Is it too far gone?
Did he irredeemably fuck it up?
“Of course ‘Vi, I'll keep you company while you do your paperwork too”
_____________
“And for all the other times…” you nodded, making space on the couch. An invitation.
Levi took it, making his way to you before sitting down again. Usually, he wouldn't be so quick with it.
Today, he needed to ease the ache in his chest.
Fears of you not showing up tonight, the hard grip on his wrists that he can still feel if he thinks about it a little harder. The general tension was suffocating.
“I'm not trying to mess with you either.”
“I know.”
“I've never done it before”
“I know that too”
There's a pause, your hand slowly inching to his.
He selfishly takes it.
“I don't know what I want.”
“I don't really believe that, you always know.”
“You're right.”
You're chewing at your lip, still not looking at him. He might run off if you stare at him too much during a serious conversation.
He hates himself for teaching you that.
“I want to”
“Okay”
“I'm terrified of it”
You hum.
You knew about his mother.
“Not because of what my mother was, I think that's not the main problem anymore”
“Oh…” you nod again, squeezing his hand once in encouragement.
“I can't give you what you need”
“You don't need to give me anything.”
“I want to. I can't.”
He's sweating, his hand turning clammy and slippery in your own.
“You have everything I need though…I'm really trying to understand Lev-”
“I don't.”
“What do you mean…” you're searching through answers in your head.
“Does it not work anymore?” it would be offensive if anyone else said it, but the way you ask is timid, gentle, and already full of understanding.
He shakes his head no.
“Not that”
“Are you concerned about the…size?”
“No!” he doesn't even have one, why does the insinuation that it's small offend him for a moment, he isn't sure.
But.
“What if I was?”
It's close to it, isn't it?
“I mean usually guys think that they-”
“Unusable. What if it's unusable.”
“Can you… not feel good?” bless your heart for always thinking about him before everything.
“I can. What if it was unusable?” he repeats the question, gripping your hand tight in his, his other fisting the cushion of his couch.
“As long as you're willing to touch me in other ways? I already know that you're good with your hands, with practically anything you try. I doubt it would be much different? We could also practice.” your tone is serious, and now you're looking at him, curiously gauging his reaction. Did you say the right thing? He's gonna bolt away any second now.
Levi takes his time to think for a moment. Being delusional, that's what he's doing.
He hums.
“It's not that.”
“Okay” he can sense that you don't believe him now. That's alright. It doesn't change anything.
“You'll run away.”
“I promise I won't!”
“You will.”
“Will not!”
It's futile.
Levi sighs. His heart feels like it's gonna beat out of his chest. Late at night, he would imagine a similar scenario to this. Over and over again.
He would think of ways to drop the conversation. A billion excuses carefully thought through, memorized to perfection.
But it's vastly different in reality.
With you, now propped on your knees on his couch, a hand strongly pulling on his collar to make him look back at you. When did he look away? When did the adoration in your eyes become repulsive enough for him to not be able to bear looking at it? He didn't even notice.
He swallows, throat bobbing as spit and bile struggle to pass the gigantic lump.
His teeth are clenched as well, rubbing uncomfortably against one another. If he doesn't relax his jaw soon, he might even chip them away from how hard they are gritted together.
“Can you promise me something then?”
Selfish.
That's what he always is when it comes to you.
He knows that you would give him anything. Promise him everything if only he demands it.
So he takes it.
Greedily. Pathetically. Miserably.
“When you do leave. You will not tell a soul.” in your head this was too silly. Levi never seemed like he cared for what people talked about behind his back. No matter how awful a rumor would be, he would let people talk. His dick was also a topic of conversation in the scouts more than once. Soldiers need to pass the time somehow.
‘Must be small, he's so short, it would make sense!’
‘Maybe that's where all the height went!!’
If you do leave, he will deal with the heartbreak. What he can't deal with is his secret flowing around at the same time. He simply doesn't know how he would handle both. He actually doesn't know how he would handle the first one either, but he tells himself that he'll manage.
Threatening would also work on anyone but you. You can't threaten someone who doesn't feel a speck of fear towards you.
So he grips at the forced promise.
“Okay ‘Vi. I promise I won't tell a soul. It won't happen though!” your stubbornness parallels his sometimes, and now he relents, finally looking at you.
He pulls you into his lap, like how you were this morning. His hands are shaking, but you're smiling at him, one hand already on his cheek.
‘Living a life with no regrets’ is a drive people with too many of them under their belt choose as a last resort.
Levi's mind is not strong enough to hold onto all of them and stay sane, so naturally at one point, either he lets his regrets pull him down into pits of insanity, or he creates a delusion to follow in order to keep the weight on his soul that much lighter.
Levi kisses you, similarly to how he did the first time. Clumsily and stiff. And then he melts against you.
He doesn't regret kissing you. He refuses to regret it.
He will not regret it once you rip yourself away from him in disgust, fumbling for your things and slamming his door shut.
He will not regret it once he has to transfer you to a different squad and after that, he won't regret never speaking to you again..
As his mind is trying to catch up with everything, your shirt is already off.
He took it off your shoulders himself, hungry for the warm skin of your stomach, your back, and your chest.
He won't regret never having it under his fingertips again. He would regret never doing it when he had the chance.
Your voice is angelic as his lips trail across your shoulders and collar, leaving a sloppy mess in their wake. When your hands grip at the hem of his shirt, he wills his arms to keep still against your hip bones.
You won't notice anything ‘wrong’ there.
It still makes him anxious.
He's flatter than an average man, maybe because of genetics, maybe the piss-poor diet underground, or the lack of sun. Fuck if he knows.
What little could have been noticed would easily be attributed to his workout nowadays.
So he feels your hands on him for the first time.
It’s pleasant. Feeling you grip onto him wherever you can reach as he slips his tongue past your lips. Your cheeks are flushed and warm, eyes closed as you let him lead your kiss.
Despite the nervousness of the impending doom that he's been bracing himself for this whole time, he feels wetness between his legs, soaking through his boxers.
Your long skirt ends up being hiked up and you shyly guide his hands to your thighs.
He watches mesmerized as you find friction on top of his pants, his palms following the gentle sway of your hips.
Maybe if he could get you off like this, he could die a happy man. He'd engrave the image into his brain and replay it for decades probably.
You part for air, gasping and filling your lungs before you press your forehead to his, opening your pretty eyes to look at him again.
“I promised.”
“You did.”
You can feel the anticipation building in your tummy, warm and fuzzy as you readjust on his lap so that you're kneeling with one leg between both of his and the other at his side.
He gives a curt nod, and your fingers easily unbuckle his pants, unbuttoning them and then tugging the zipper down slowly.
He helps you take them to his ankles where he kicks them off the rest of the way.
Levi wants to crawl out of his own skin.
He will regret everything soon enough.
Your fingers slip past the waistband of his underwear, and you ignore the bruising grip on your shoulder. First, you're met with a tuff of thick hair, and then your fingers glide lower. Your lips are inches from his, and you refuse to look down, no matter how curious, you feel like not looking would make him feel a tiny bit more comfortable.
You pass over a tiny bump and Levi's breath hitches as you experimentally fiddle it between your middle and pointer fingers.
An inch or so lower, your digits slip between something warm and slick. Pressing with a little more force, your lips form into a little ‘oh’.
There are plenty of things you want to say, and then a few you want to ask out of pure curiosity. But you have to swallow it down, keep it for later, because Levi's glossy eyes pull at your heart with urgency, begging for a response.
“This is fine.”
“Is it?”
“Mhm.”
“You can leave.”
“I know”
“Are you going to?”
“Not planning to, no.”
Your hand doesn't stop moving, only slows down considerably as you wait for the barrage of questions and possible accusations.
“Is it not gross?”
Was he referring to a pussy in general?
“I've been with women before.”
“I'm not a woman though”
“I know that too.”
“You don't have to lie.”
“I'm not lying.”
“It's weird.”
“I don't think so. Just different.”
“Just different?”
“Yeah.”
He puts a little space between you two, releasing the death grip on your shoulder.
“Don't lie for my sake”
“I'm not lying” you don't mind repeating it.
“I'm serious. I will despise you if you're lying.”
“Good thing I'm not then.”
There's something in him that wants him to fight you more. He wants a different reaction. The one he practiced for, so that he could know what to do.
You keep your distance, but you place your hand closer to him, inches from his own, which is balled up in a tight fist with his nails leaving dull, moon-like crests in his palm.
Minutes drag out, feeling like hours.
When his breath comes out in a shudder, it's a sign that he let himself fall, trusting your words.
You grin when he looks your way again, and he takes your hand in his.
He's pulling you off the couch, stumbling across the room as he drags you behind him. At the door of his bedroom, you feel like you need to kiss him in order to breathe.
Your back ends up pressed to the wooden door then, strong arms picking you up.
Your legs find home around his hips, your arms secured tightly around his neck as he devours your mouth. He pulls your plump lips between his teeth, groaning lowly once your naked chest presses against his.
One of his hands snakes up your side and to the back of your neck, fingers lodging into your hair to keep your head from hitting against the door as you hungrily lick into his mouth.
You fumble for the handle, pushing the door open with your elbow. You feel hot all over, skin burning and shining in sweet sweat that Levi licks off your throat, baring his teeth to the junction of your neck and shoulders to stifle the moans that threaten to surge out when you rack your nails down his back.
He lowers you on the bed slowly, watching as you clumsily get your skirt and underwear off.
He towers over you within seconds, finding a place between your legs that spread out for him eagerly.
He's eating you with his eyes alone, and it sends goosebumps through your spine.
“You're…” his pale skin turns unrecognizably red, and you can see him struggling to come up with any more words.
“Just do whatever, I don't care ‘Vi, just touch me, c'mon…”  
He nods, faltering for a moment before he smooths his finger across your heat experimentally. He massages the fat beside your folds with his thumb, the hairs there wet, sticking together due to your arousal.
Being touched by someone feels very much different than it does with your own fingers, you knew that already. But being slowly explored by someone who is desperately trying to learn everything about your body must take the cake.
Levi watches you, every breath you take, and every movement of your hips that buck off the bed. He takes in every gasp and moan rushing past your gorgeous lips as he presses and dips with his fingers.
He spreads your wetness around, coating your clit to make the flicks of his thumb against it smooth. He's not as helpless as he feared he would be, on the contrary, it turns out that it comes relatively easy to excel in something if you already know how to do it to yourself.
And as you mentioned earlier, he does have a way with his hands with everything he picks up. He feels a sense of pride when you start rutting against his hand, hungry for his touch while also being wildly unashamed to show it to him.
“Fuck me, ‘Vi, please for the love of God” you mewl as he takes your hood between two boney fingers, tugging and massaging there.
“Yeah…okay” his voice is raspy, sounding like a purr as he comes close to your face, propping himself on his elbow.
His fingers slowly dip inside you, and he's there to catch your moan as he sinks into you with ease, all the way to his knuckles.
“You're so gorgeous…” he whispers it like it's a secret. You know that saying things like that takes effort from him, not for the lack of meaning behind them.
You see the words at the tip of his tongue often, but hearing them out loud was a rarity.
“You're breathtaking” and now you're being truly spoiled, his fingers rocking into you…slow at first.
“It feels like I'd die without you.”
“Me too” 
The confessions hang in the air, and they're deeper than ‘I love you’s’. They express the uncontainable need of two people, drunk on the feeling of each other to the point where they feel like their hearts would simply stop if something ripped them away.
“I'm close, it's embarrassing” 
The tempo of his thrusts is now steady, and he watches as you snake your hand between your bodies, touching yourself to his pace.
He holds his breath, mesmerized by your movements. You're everything, and he can't keep his eyes off of you. Your cunt hugging his fingers, leaking into his open palm as you grind your hips to meet him, your fingers flicking at your gorgeous bud with urgency.
All the while, you scramble to moan his name, to beg him not to stop, to plea for him to fuck you just like this until you fucking pass out.
You cum with a loud cry, all over his hand, all over his perfectly made bed and clean sheets, and he already wants you to do it again and you haven't even stopped shaking from the first wave of your orgasm.
Your legs close around his arm, tightly locking him in place where he can only curl his fingers into your soft walls to help you ride out your high. 
He stares with wide eyes as you slump back against the mattress, chest heaving, blissed out of your mind. And you don’t hate him. And you didn’t run. And he will never let you go now.
You release his hand soon enough, collecting yourself. 
Feeling strength come back to your legs, you prop yourself up, pushing Levi under you with ease only explained by his utter willingness to let you take whatever you want from him.
Sweet surrender. Your hands are back on his skin, lips tickling their way between his chest and to his stomach, kissing your way above the hem of his underwear. He finds the part of his brain that yells at him to be careful, and he crushes it.
You strip him fully bare now, anticipation building up once again.
You want to eat him alive, hooking his leg over your shoulder and biting the inside of his thighs, soaking in his shivers and the frantic rush of his hand to cover his mouth.
Your eyes are purely dark, and you're still smiling at him. In a way that makes Levi’s heart race. Adrenaline courses through him, it feels similar to how it is when he's out on missions, focused, on edge and patiently waiting for the creatures to launch at him at any moment.
Is comparing you to a titan truly what his brain is doing right now?
No…not in that sense. He feels like he's being hunted, looked at like he's just a piece of meat hanging on a stick, being circled around for the sole amusement of the beasts.
You nibble at his skin again, jerking his attention down at you.
“This okay?”  
Levi wants to crawl in a hole and die out of embarrassment, your face inches away from his pussy.
He hasn't been this turned on in his life. 
“‘Vi?” you lean your cheek on his thigh, nuzzling against it.
“Yes.” 
And then you're wrapping your arms around his muscley legs, flatting your tongue against him and swiping in one well swoop before he hears you humming approvingly.
“Must you be so shameless” You nose at his clit, ignoring his comment. He smells divine. The taste that lingers on your tongue compels you to dive in again for more. 
At first, it doesn't feel like much, barely there friction that only tickled him ever so often. You take your time with him, peering up occasionally as you proudly swallow him down. Your chin and nose were a mess already. 
Once you made sure that every part of him was licked clean, you finally closed your lips over his engorged clit. It laid heavy on your tongue, and as you sucked your cheeks in, Levi found your hands and pulled them over his stomach so that he could hold them to ground himself. 
“Fuck…hng. Listen I-” You swirl him inside your mouth, pulling off with a pop so that you can tongue at his slit where fresh arousal seeps into your tastebuds. His eyes roll to the back of his skull and the vibrations of your humms drive him even more insane.
“My Walls, wait a second!” it feels amazing. He hates being greedy like this. He doesn’t want to ruin anything. But he needs to feel you.
He has no idea how. He needs more and closer. 
How did he live without your touch before this?
“Come up.”
“Bossy…” 
You listen, crawling up to him.
“Need more baby?” 
“Shut up.”
“What is it then?” 
You’re so mean. You should give mercy for his poor, old man's heart.
“Here…follow what I do.” Ordering him around is an ego boost. Finally, there’s something you’re better at than him(future will show that that won’t last long).
You push one of your legs under his, lifting your other one so that he can position himself. As he’s doing that, you take his other leg and you place it on your shoulder swiftly, hugging it to your chest before you let your full weight press against him. 
“This better?” you rock your hips languidly, waiting for his reaction. 
“Fuck, okay…yeah…it's. Yeah.” He props himself up on his elbows, angling himself a little better.
You watch mesmerized between your bodies, the slow glides of your drooling folds, the shy bumps of your clits against one another.
It takes a while for the friction to build up, a few minutes until your movements sync up, the up and down motion of your hips timing perfectly with each other. 
Levi’s hair is damp with sweat, sticking to his forehead, eyelashes fluttering while he struggles to keep his eyes open. He wants to learn, wants to lead the pace next time, make you feel good and spoil you. He needs to remember every little thing about you, what makes you tick, what drives you insane.
He balances on one arm, his other supporting the fluent rolls of your hips with firm pressure on your thigh. 
The dim lighting accentuates his build. The pale, jagged scars scattered across his body make him all the more beautiful to look at. They show his strength, endurance, and ferocity…and this same body that has been fighting to survive for most of its life is writhing under you, trusting you to handle it with care.
The hand he holds you with has many small cuts, they're impossible to count, whereas the pads of his fingers are rough, toughened up from holding the blades so often.
When you pay closer attention to his legs, there are strips of skin where hair doesn't grow anymore. You recognize the placement of the gear straps easily. Many soldiers share the same markings, but his are especially attractive. 
Is that even a thing that can be considered particularly attractive? Lack of hair in weird places?
Doesn't really matter because apparently, if it’s on Levi, it's sinfully hot.
You shift your attention back to his face. His eyes are dimmed and dark, the blueish hue barely there. His mouth is slacked open, eyebrows slightly furrowed.
You can feel hot blood rushing through your body, tips of your fingers tingly. You hold your breath and you flex the muscles of your stomach, the coil in your gut threatening to snap oh so so soon.
“A little more, please… fuck I'm right there ‘Vi. You with me?” 
“Hmhm…yeah. I think so. yeah? Shit.” 
He overthinks it for a second.
Will he look weird? Will his face be pleasant to look at? Nobody ever saw him like this, he doubts anyone else ever will. If he could stuff a pillow into his face he would.
“ ‘Vi, gonna make me cum again, holy shit.”  
Oh.
That's what matters the most.
You feeling good. Because of him. With him?
“I've got you, yeah, c’mon, cum for me gorgeous…” he blushes at his own words, heisting the pace to help you both get there.
Soon everything goes still, gasps and grunts bouncing off the walls as you both release, one following after the other. Before you squeeze your eyes shut, you latch onto the image of him, captivated and awestruck by his expression.
Your second orgasm is mindnumbing, leaving your brain a mush.
You clutch at his leg and he squeezes yours as you both slow down to a stop. The sheets beneath you are soaked through, slightly uncomfortable as you both scramble and stretch your sore limbs.
You lay onto Levi's chest and he wraps you in his arms, tucking his chin at the top of your head. His heartbeat slowly becomes regular, and your breath evens out.
He feels like he needs to say something. Is he supposed to say anything after? 
He decides that he won't ruin the silence, no matter how badly he wants to sabotage the tender moment.
You stroke his side with your thumb, going in tiny circles, and he replies by lightly scratching your back, falling into a steady rhythm.
Thirty-four years ago, Kuchel Ackerman had a daughter. 
One more person knows and the world didn't end.
Levi sleeps through the whole night and in the morning, he doesn't run.
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Phew, I wrote this in one sitting and even now I have 20 more ideas for this plot. Old man pussy is a prison.
I would just like to clarify that reader isn't 'oblivious' to the existence of trans people by choice. It was mainly because I tried to keep to the canon timeframe, and in like 800's I don't know if such a thing would exist in the first place? It's definitely a very peculiar and specific situation that I had in mind aswell.
All in all, thank you for making it this far! Mwah💕
tip-yar : Ko-Fi 💕
commission info
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bluecookies02 · 2 months
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exam season is over so i'm back finally !!
comms open once again💙
masterlist & navi | about | rules | commission info
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ᐢ⑅ᐢ
꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱
./づ~ || UPDATED COMMISSION INFO 𐐪𐑂||
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additional notes:
>NSFW preferred, word p*rn is my area of expertise, but I'll also accept SFW comms.
> if your OC description is fairly simple it will be priced as 10$ per 1k!
> I also write for AOT, CSM and Demon Slayer though I forgot to put them in there 💕
> From mentioned shows, I'm pretty sure that I'd write for all characters so don't be shy to ask!
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bluecookies02 · 7 months
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Cyno x Tighnari x Al Haitham x Kaveh
cw: earfuck, foursome, nsfw, mdni
..---..---..---..---..---..---..---..---..---..---..---..---..---..
I'm brainrotted with the thought of Kaveh and Haitham fucking Tighnari's fluffy ears until they're full of cum and sweat. And he's crying because when Cyno does it he's gentle, caring and soothing and it feels so *so* good.
But the couple is sloppy, maybe because there's two of them and it's hard to keep the pace slow, and they're impossibly messy. Tighnari can feel the sweat staining and clumping his fur together. It's not bad...it's just too much.
His boyfriend sitting on the side and just watching it happen doesn't make it better, he feels so embarrassed and he can't help the way his cock pathetically throbs in his pants. The two are sloppily kissing above him, two pairs of hands clutched tightly in his hair.
'Go on he can cum like that...' and he can't bear to look at his boyfriend, chewing his lip as he lets himself be manhandled by the two, with low grunts reaching his clogged ears he knows they're both close...again.
They're hectic now, out of pace and he's sure he feels their dicks touch somewhere in his brain somehow.
His ears twitch and shake as they are filled up, fresh cum dripping all the way down his neck and he's cumming too, breathless and dizzy.
He only has so much time to peak his eyes open to look at Cyno, who's spread open on a chair, eyes closed and head thrown back, his cock slick in spit.
With just a pathetic buck of his hips, he's creaming his underwear, hot and thick load creating a wet dark patch in his front. He struggles to swallow, afraid that his ears might pop uncomfortably with two thick cocks plugging them shut.
When his vision clears again he can only see Cyno's mouth moving, saying something in form of a praise that he can't make out, but he feels the hands on his head loosen and pet him gently, easing him down from his high before slowly pulling out.
They rub and calm down against his reddened cheeks, boney hands massaging his sore ears.
'see I told you, that shuts his smart mouth right up..." he hears it like it's a whisper, despite the fact that Cyno got up from his chair now, his finger collecting some of the release from one of his ears, scooping it up until it's partially out of the way and he can make out the soft coo against his earlobe.
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bluecookies02 · 7 months
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i should update my ao3
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bluecookies02 · 8 months
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Hnghhh Neuvillette nghfhfhfh Okay but like Neuvillette who keeps his assistant always beside him because he literally cant function if shes not within 10 feet of him, yes that includes trials too, he would be so protective of his assistant that he will literally be ready to fight if he feels like his assistant has been threatened
So imagine like a trial is currently in session and charges has been pressed on a man that has been harrasing women in fontaine, that already ticks off Neuvillette but when the man makes small comments about his assistant that gets him pissed and firmly tells the man to focus on the trial and not to distract his assiatant, but then the man takes it too far and made a sexual comment about her hes mad. Jail, he immediately finishes the trial and gives him a life sentence. After that trial when everyone else is gone he just cant wait anymore, he needs to release his stress, luckily for him his assistant is right there, he might go rough on her just because he was mad and pissed off but its okay, his assistant is very good and will do anything to help him relieve stress. He will literally go for hours fucking her on his balcony where he sits during trials, he will not stop until the anger inside him is all gone, no one can see her like this, no one ls can touch her like this, only he can, only Neuvillette can fuck her this good, only Neuvillette can have her.
What have I done. Everyone is having the assistant brainworm in my inbox💕😭
tbh I want him to stay composed while sentencing him in front of ppl and then beat that man's ass when he visits him in jail khhhhh
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bluecookies02 · 8 months
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I lied. Yes I can, I started a draft😌
Someone commission me to write Neuivellette non conning his assistant bc I don't have the heart to make this man a rapist myself but my coochie is screaming at me
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bluecookies02 · 8 months
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Someone commission me to write Neuivellette non conning his assistant bc I don't have the heart to make this man a rapist myself but my coochie is screaming at me
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bluecookies02 · 8 months
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i'm a different anon than the one who's sent the previous assistant fuckbuddy asks (if that was one person, amyway) but man, yesss, I'm so into it. this stoic, stone-faced, righteous man having his office be the home of debauchery - sign me up
imagine how... creative... he might be with the space, the resourceful person he is. aside from bending the assistant over the table, he could tie her up with a curtain cord, use the thick handles of his expensive stationery to put into her, use books to prop your bottom up while you lie on the flor or one of the couches so you're more open to him, and more~
I'm sure that he could get his hands onto sum cuffs or something.
He does seem v resourceful. Like strucks me as a "i will not go to a store to buy toys but I found this rope in one of the evidence boxes-" fhsisisksjsj
i am delusionally in love w every fanon version of him, it's a disease.
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bluecookies02 · 8 months
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Oh noo neuvillette hired his assistant hoping he would get more work done but only the opposite happened. He thought paperworks and files would be the only thing sprawled out on his desk but his desk has been awfully clean nowadays, the clutter of papers have been replaced by his assistant. Its almost like he has no time do any of them now, too busy fucking his assistant into his desk.
But having his assistant be pinned down on his desk all the time getting dicked down by him is risky, well thats what the melusine that stands guard outside his office is for! He couldnt care less when someone is arguing with the melusine outside his office for all he cares, not when hes too busy getting milked for all he’s worth by his assistant.
Neuvillette might even move her desk inside his office so he can just call her over whenever he wants just to be deep inside her. Well atleast he’s doing something all night and its definitely not paperwork.
Oh I like this one too omg. Like ik that canonically he would be very professional, i just like to be objectified sometimes, my feminism slips up.
But oh god, him falling for his assistant???
She's just sitting next to him, filling out paperwork and he's just like😳
Can you stop doing your work now, I literally do not care, jail them all.
Like you being a regular assistant and he's fucking g o n e.
He is not thinking about a single law related thing in that court, expect from maybe the laws he would definitely be breaking if he tried to woo you over.
You trotting away to show him the correlations between some cases and leaning over his shoulder. He's a dead man, he's sweating, his throat is dry and he might faint.
He's a weak man and you two end up fucking within your first week. After that, if he really needs to finish something important he literally needs to send you to another end of Fontaine or he will not make it through a single sentence.
It motivates him though, the sooner he's done the sooner he can have you in his lap.
I also wanna see him try to play off the suspicious stains that ended up on one of his folders.
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bluecookies02 · 8 months
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okay but consider neuvillette (man, this filth probably only appeals to me but we're all mad here as they say) and self-impregnation. dragons have dicks, that is very evident, and dragons have pussies, that is also true. upon hearing that there are no more dragons who haven't yet found a mate, you, his parthner, in a stroke of deranged genius propose a solution - wouldn't hurt to try, right? so you please him, and collect his seed, and finger him or use one of those curious hollow toys to deliver it inside his pussy and breed him full of pretty little copies of himself
Oh god the frenzy he would be in. Going in a heat/rut combo.
it doesn't even matter that he's not sure if he can get himself pregnant, all that matters is that he's being bred and you're gushing about how good he's taking his own cum💕
Kissing his stretched pussy and he just can't stop cumming fbshdjskakala. He gets all messy, spurting cum over his belly, and you're so sweet, scooping it up with your gentle fingers to coat the toy even more.
He's cumming so much and you keep praising him and telling him how they're gonna catch for sure, seeing how thick his loads are still...
He always thought he was too old for kids but he can't help but pray to whatever is out there that you end up getting him pregnant.
Of course it's all in the heat of the moment and hormones, but he visits the library to research it later only to end up blushing and dry coughing, hiding his lil face in his hands like🥹
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bluecookies02 · 8 months
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also i actually wanna write an au where reader has to collect dragon cum for her companies research.
Just Zhongli and Neuvillette being locked up in different cells next to eachother, impatiently waiting their turn.
Whoever goes second gets severely possessive and fucks her within an inch of her life.
I also need them to both break free and mount her.
Now the question is, as always, how much can i kill the dove to end up satisfied.
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bluecookies02 · 8 months
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To add on to Neuvillette having an assistant who is at his mercy he would have specially designed clothes for her, literally falls off with one tug at the ribbons or lace so after court trials he can undress her as quickly as possible and fuck them right then and there
Neuvillette likes to call her his assistant but deep down we all know shes just there to serve as his personal fucktoy and cocksleeve
The only thing shes getting done in his office is getting dicked down by his massive dragon cock 🙌
Real. I also strongly believe that he's a tiddie man, so simply being in a skirt isn't enough, he needs to grab tits or he'll pass out. Orders from his doctor that he definitely didn't bribe. What's he gonna do? Sue him?
Her job description also had a lot of things at first...carry this there, check this every monday yadda yadda.
But eventually all of her little tasks were split amongst the Mulisines so that she can have more time to do the job he actually hired her for.
Bonus points if she was actually looking forward to filling her resume, working as an assistant for a chief of justice works it's wonders when put on paper.
It's not an easy job nonetheless, all of the laundryyyy.
It's an important task! What's the old dude supposed to do? Jack off? At his age??? And all of his duties make him so frustrated, it's only rational that he needs to have a pretty thing warming his dick 9 to 5.
Getting double the salary during mating season pays off too I guess.
i'd do it for free
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