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#Ao3 fanfic
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Percy this. Percy that. It was always about Percy Jackson. All the fucking time. 
It was always about the Hero of Olympus, the one who defeated Kronos and led the battle of Manhattan, the one who was offered immortality by the king of the gods himself, the one who restored glory to Rome by returning the golden eagle, the one who became praetor of the Roman camp in 2 weeks with limited training. 
His Roman camp. Jason Grace's Roman camp.
Percy Jackson had pulled off everything in 2 weeks that Jason Grace wasn't able to accomplish despite dedicating his whole life for duty. 11 years of blood, sweat and tears, simply gone down the drain.
Jason had failed his camp. He had failed his home. Turns out, he wasn't as great as the people of Rome had once preached about him. It was obvious considering the less than warm welcome he had gotten from his so-called “home”. 
He received no hugs, no cheers, no “we missed you jason!”, no “I was so worried about you!” or even a single pat on the arm by his “friend” Dakota. Dakota and Gwendolyn hadn't even spared a glance at him.
Nothing. Instead, this new Jackson boy was held up to worship like a god amongst the people who once considered Jason a “hero”.
Jason laughed bitterly. Was it selfish of him to be disappointed with Reyna? With a pang, he got to know that Reyna hadn't sent a single search party out to look for her “best friend”. Not like Annabeth did for Percy, not like Thalia did for Percy.
With a pang, he got to know that the whole camp basically deemed him as ‘dead’ and Reyna hadn't even set up a memorial of remembrance for him. The camp had simply moved on with their new hero. Without a single shred of thought for Jason Grace. 
The forgotten Hero. The lost hero. Jason Grace.
These thoughts of doubt gnawed on Jason's mind, slowly eating him up ever since he'd first seen Percy Jackson in those damned praetor togas that once belonged to him. 
He didn't dislike the boy, of course not, it wasn't Percy's fault that Hera wiped their memories or switched camps.
 But it was hard for Jason to not resent him, or feel even the tiniest amount of envy, knowing that Reyna willingly replaced him with Jackson. Very quickly too, at that. He overheard Octavian blabbing to his lackeys about how Reyna “was head over heels for Percy almost immediately” 
“I guess that's it. Maybe I am someone who is easy to replace.” Jason thought, his eyes pricking as he looked over from the flying ship, at the place he once used to call home. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jason watched remorsefully as Thalia, Grover, Percy and Annabeth were all gathered at the table in camp half blood, cracking jokes about dam french fries or whatever that meant.
Thalia caught Jason's eyes, staring at all of them from a distance. She smiled softly, and gave him a tiny wave. He weaved his lips into something that was meant to look like a wry smile, but it came out as a slight grimace, as he waved back.
Thalia was so close to Jason, yet so far away.
He knew she loved him, but it felt different. And an annoying, nagging part of Jason had known that Thalia would never be as close to him as she was to Annabeth or Percy. 
Ironic isn't it? Jason and Thalia were always connected since they came from the same womb, yet she was closer to Annabeth, a girl she'd found after she had run away from the same woman that had given Jason to the wolves. The same woman who had turned his life upside down by abandoning him. 
Thalia had found Annabeth right after she thought she had lost Jason. In a strangely ironic way, Jason felt like he'd been replaced all over again.
Thalia had replaced Jason as a younger sibling with Annabeth without even realizing it, all of this took place mere months after a baby Jason was considered to be dead. This situation had strangely reminded him of Camp Jupiter, how he was replaced by Percy right after Jason was considered “dead” by Camp Jupiter.
This made Jason reach the possibility that if he were indeed “dead”, he wouldn't be missed. People wouldn't bat an eyelash. Since there was always someone better than him. Someone like Percy Jackson, who could easily fill the void Jason would leave behind.
His eyes watered, as he looked at how much fun his sister had with his friends. Knowing full well, that he'd never be able to do the same.
Jason felt ashamed that he had to ask Percy about Thalia’s likes and dislikes, he was thalia’s brother. He was supposed to know.
Jason watched as Thalia quickly hugged the trio, as she left their table to leave with the hunters, not even realizing that there was one person whom she forgot to hug.
Don't take it personally. Don't take it personally. She just forgot. She doesn't hate you. She just forgot. She doesn't prefer Percy over you. She's in a hurry. That's why she forgot. Jason repeated that like a mantra, the only person he was trying to convince was himself.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“And he rejected immortality!- oh you should've seen Zeus' face!” Annabeth exclaimed to Hazel excitedly, as Percy was blushing at the compliment fountain being poured at him by Hazel and Annabeth.
Jason had always been fascinated by that story, the almighty Percy Jackson getting offered to become a god, by Zeus.
His father. Jason's father, Zeus. 
Jason felt stupid and guilty for getting envious, it's not the fact that Percy had been offered immortality, no. Jason couldn't care less about being immortal. It was the person who offered Percy invincibility that bothered Jason so much. 
Jason knew that even if he went to the ends of the world to accomplish something, his father wouldn't be able to praise him or even talk to him for a long time. 
Zeus and Jason could never be like Hades and Nico, or Poseidon and Percy. That's just how it is.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Reyna had come to camp half blood for a fun visit. Jason would've been ecstatic in other circumstances, but in this case, he wanted to be as far away from her as possible. Because currently, Reyna seemed to be looking at everyone, but refused to meet Jason's eyes. She seemed to keep her distance as she laughed at something Percy and Piper were saying. 
She may as well have just stabbed him, it would've hurt a lot less. 
He had truly been naive to believe that he could make amends with Reyna. Now he knew, it would never be possible. There was too much pain mixed with bitterness on both ends. But seeing her get along with Percy reminded him of the old times of friendship he and Reyna had shared. Keyword: had.
Once again, the fates had shown him that Percy Jackson would always be better. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As Jason Grace lay on the cold floor, coughing out blood. He realized he was alone, he was dying, but he was alone.
Like always. The sickly voice of Gaia, that had once haunted his nightmares, boomed in his head. Jason knew he was hallucinating as a result of blood loss, Gaia is in deep slumber. But that did not stop the voice in his head that was invented by his insecurities. Even in the end, you've been forgotten, Jason Grace. Because that's what you will always be. The second best. The leftover. The pawn who is discarded, after his purpose has been fulfilled. Percy Jackson would always be better in everyone's eyes. 
To the Romans, you are simply the one who betrayed his lineage. But Percy is the one who restored glory. He did your job for you.
To the Greeks, you are simply a burden, one whom they were forced to welcome.
To your father, you are merely one of his many sons. 
To your sister, you are a stranger.
Jason's resolve to live had weakened, hot tears were streaming down his face as he closed his eyes in defeat, he had come to the painful conclusion that nobody is going to come find his body. Nobody is going to mourn him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Oh I will always be much better than you at this! Bring it on, dude!” Percy laughed as he striked his play sword lightsaber at Jason's. They clashed. 
“You wish, Jackson!” Jason shot back jokingly, as they sparred playfully with toy lightsabers.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Jackson, you jerk. You were right after all, you will always be much better than me” Jason laughed bitterly, as he recalled that memory of his sparring session with Percy.
 Suddenly everything went black. The life had successfully ebbed out of him.
Little did Jason know, was that someone had indeed come to look for him. Tempest, his Pegasus had come to retrieve his body, but Jason was long gone. People had indeed mourned him. His friends were, indeed, anguished. His sister was, indeed, heartbroken.
Jason's soul parted this world, with the knowledge that he'd always be The forgotten Hero. 
The lost hero. Jason Grace.
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littlerequiem · 2 days
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— midnight ventures ˚⁎⁺ levi ackerman x f!reader (18+ MDNI)
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You shouldn’t have looked and he shouldn’t have been there. But Fate can have a funny sense of humor. The punchline that night? Stumbling onto your naked Captain in a hot spring… and doing something about it.
content — Rated E - Canon universe, Snowed-in, Winter, Hot Springs, Power Dynamics, Smut, Orgasm Delay, Oral (f. receiving), Authority Kink, Unprotected sex, Creampie, Biting, Multiple Orgasms, Light dom/sub dynamics, Soft!Dom Levi (wc: 11.7k).
Thanks to my BETA @stellar-smth. Written for @sixpennydame following this prompt: "I can't get enough of you."
Crossposted on AO3.
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The mountain is a lonely, cruelly cold place.
Up here, everything is covered by planes of white, endless valleys rolling and coming. Icicles cling onto winding branches, while roots are drowned in bitter cold. Even nature seems to be at a complete standstill here.
Getting lost here would be ill-advised.
And yet, here you are, stranded, with the last person you ever expected to be with.
Captain Levi Ackerman.
“That was our last one, sir,” you say as you lower the flare gun, securing it to the harness strapped to your wool jacket. Gray smoke, usually reserved to warn of the presence of abnormals, now towers above you. It was a last hope to signal someone to your location and unfortunately, no answer has come.
You are, in every sense of the word, lost.
"You grew up around here, didn't you?" comes Levi's voice, that his gravelly and magnetic tone that always makes you instantly zero-in on him. "Any of this look familiar?”
You meet his impassive stare, and you try to ignore the familiar flutters forming in the pit of your stomach.
“I did. But I’m sorry, sir, I don’t recognize these parts,” you answer evenly, glancing at the footprints in the snow. “Everything looks the same to me.”
“I see.”
You rub your hands over your covered arms, trying to create your own means of warmth. "My father used to say these mountains were a death trap come winter. I suppose there was some truth to his words.”
“A death trap.” Levi clicks his tongue. “A novelty in our lives, I’m sure.”
Your chuckle beneath your breath.  
Somewhere to the north of here is a military outpost, the destination of your supply round. Unfortunately, as things stand now, you won't reach it on time. Perhaps if you had ODM gear or horses, you might have already reached it. But winter in the mountains renders both useless: the hooks don't secure properly because of the ice, and horses aren't trained to navigate such terrains.
Hence, you are doing everything by foot. 
“It's going to be dark soon,” Levi points out in a monotone voice, as if this situation wasn’t a matter of life-and-death.
You stare at the darkening clouds over the horizon. "Yeah."
Levi kicks some snow with his boot, white particles clouding the air. “Let’s head back down, I saw a cabin on our way up.”
“Yes, sir.”
With his directives now laid out, you begin the walk down. Levi sets the pace, keeping a diligent speed that ensures your bodies stay warm and your minds stay sharp. For a while, that’s all there is to it. Nothing but the crunching of footsteps in snow and the wind howling across white nothing.
The silence gives you a moment to yourself, one where you're able to take in your surroundings, including the sight of your Captain next to you.  
Like you, Levi’s appearance is marked by the cold. His eyes, red-rimmed; eyelashes, glistening white; his cheeks, flushed with a rosy hue; his hair, flowing and ebbing midnight. 
It suits him, this look. All dressed in white, he looks beautiful.
Not exactly a surprise, you suppose. Your Captain could wear a rag and still look good.
It’s an objective, albeit unfortunate, truth. Your Captain is beautiful, magnetic, striking… and you happen to have a big, fat crush on him.
It’s not like it's a secret. You think everyone in the Corps knows at this point. The brats from the 104th love to tease you about it. So does Commander Hange, for that matter—somehow, you think it is no coincidence the two of you ended up paired for this mission.
Meddlers, they all are.
"Oi, focus on the road," Levi grumbles. 
Your cheeks warm, feeling like your Captain caught you red handed with your daydreams, even if you know that, objectively speaking, there's no way he did (Levi is many things, but a mind reader isn't one of them. Thank the Walls for that.) 
Despite knowing that, you can't help but stammer, "S-sir?" 
"You're not focused on the road. You're going to slip and hurt yourself." 
And he's right, of course. It is slippery. Dangerous, even.
But how exactly does your Captain even know you aren't focused on the path? He's not looking your way.
(Over the year, you've learned this hard truth: Levi always knows, somehow.)  
A snow storm has picked up by the time the cabin comes into view. Relief expands in your chest; you were just starting to lose the feeling of your toes.
The shelter appears to be deserted. Out of courtesy, you knock several times, checking the perimeters for signs of life, but when it’s clear no one is inside, your Captain decides that survival precedes politeness.
He surprises you with a new skill: opening locked doors.
“Dare I ask when you learned to pick locks, s-sir?” you stutter as he uses the tools from his bag. His movements are nimble and practiced, like a well-oiled machine. “S-secret skill from the Underground?”
From his crouched position, your Captain shoots you a blank look. “You may not ask.”
With a click, the door swings open.
You enter, raising your oil lamp to illuminate the inside. A half-decorated living room with a dining table, a sofa, and a fireplace. There are additional rooms to the back.
"Nobody’s lived here for months,” you comment, sniveling.
“They intended to come back.” He bobs his head to the right. "There's fresh wood and supplies over there."
You hum in agreement, teeth chattering. “It’s-s common enough for folks beneath the mountains to have a second house up here. Maybe they plan on coming up come s-summer.”
Levi grunts out a sound, presumably not caring too much as to why the house is well-equipped, but glad that it is all the same. Either way, you're clearly trespassing on someone's property, and you hope that whoever this house belongs to won't mind soldiers occupying it for one night.
Knowing the Captain, they'll probably find it in a cleaner state than the one they left it in, anyway.
But before that, your Captain seems to have other plans. 
“Before we do anything else, we need to take care of you,” he declares.
Your Captain’s gray eyes then narrow onto you, roving up and down. His attention makes you straighten in place, feeling uneasy to be in his spotlight. Levi closes the door with a swing of a leg. His stare never strays from his thorough inspection.
A shiver licks your spine. “S-sir?”
“You’re shaking like a leaf. Strip, now.”
Your stomach stupidly flips at Levi’s orders. 
"You need to change into something dry," he adds in a rueful tone.  
You chuckle nervously while your brain goes into overdrive. 
... Shit. 
This is going to be a long night, isn't it?
Trying to push aside all the ways you feel overwhelmed by Levi's presence (you are, after all, fucking cold), you begin to remove your ice-coated gloves. This, however, proves to be an exceptionally painful endeavor—you suck in a breath when you realize you can't completely bend your fingers. Oh, no. Why can’t you bend your fingers?
“Damn it, you’re like an icicle,” comes Levi’s sharp voice behind you. Before you can make sense of anything, you feel your Captain by your right side, seizing your hands to inspect them. 
You wince.
Levi is right, of course. Your fingers feel as though they are frozen, though you know they’re not. You can still move them, just painfully.
Still, you’re not exactly feeling peachy right now. You’re visibly trembling and your balance is growing more wobbly. And why is your vision so hazy?
“Why didn’t you speak up earlier?” Levi scolds. He shrugs off his own gloves and scatters them to the floor. He grabs your hands into his own, rubbing to create friction.
You stare, watching his slender fingers—rough and calloused and yet, so gentle—encompass your own. It’s the first time he touches you like this, and even if there’s nothing romantic about the gesture, your heart somersaults all the same.
(Stress and romantic attraction cause such similar reactions, you note in passing.) 
“I’m s-sorry, sir. I really didn’t realize I was feeling so cold,” you say. 
“Do you have something dry to change into?"
You nod.
“Good. Go change while I get the fireplace going,” he tells you.
You do just that. 
While Levi works on the chimney, you discover that the rest of the house consists of two bedrooms and a lavatory. You don’t waste time inspecting them; you quickly lock yourself in a room. The first layer to go is your coat, but everything else is eventually removed. You change into dry pants and a sweater retrieved from your bag. Then you lay out your belongings, as well as Levi’s scattered coat and gloves, on wooden chairs, placing them near the starting fire, hoping (praying) that they dry by tomorrow morning.
Levi’s just finished throwing several logs into the fire. He stands up to meet you, looking at you through a half-lidded stare.
Unlike you, your Captain's clothing is relatively dry; only his gray shirt sports wet patches, the fabric clinging to his chest. You try not to stare at his well-defined muscles for too long.
(Even if you really, really, really wish you could.) 
The beginning of crackling amber hovers on one side of Levi’s face, creating sunken shadows on the opposite side.
“Looks like cleaning will need to wait. You’re trembling like a drowned rat,” he says.
You conceal a smile. “L-like the ones in the Underground, s-sir?”
“Yeah, and I’ve seen enough for a lifetime.” His eyes narrow to slithers. “Just… sit your ass down on the sofa. I’ll find blankets and make tea.” You stare at him blankly, which he seems to take as some kind of signal to press the urgency in his tone. “Fucking stay awake, got it?” 
You give him a confused look, but soon catch a glimpse of yourself in one of the windows. Ah. You're not looking so well—your lips are chapped, and there's shadows plaguing your eyes.
Levi finds several blankets in a wardrobe. With your help, he moves the sofa from one side of the room to the next, positioning it right in front of the fire. Levi forces you to sit (“But sir, I can—” “Stop arguing and sit the fuck down.”), and soon, he layers covers over your shoulders.
The sofa shifts under his weight as he sits next to you.
“You alright?” he asks.
You nod, still groggy. You're still cold, but the tea is helping a little.
Still, you should really try to warm up now. You attempt to take a sip of your drink, but in your excitement, you forget the fact that fresh tea tends to be, in fact, piping hot.
It trickles down to a burning sensation down your throat. “Pah, I think I just burned my tongue.”
“Now I'm starting to think you take pleasure in inflicting pain on yourself.”
“N-no." You gulp nervously. "I just didn’t notice the tea was so hot.”
“It's tea."
"Yeah, well. I guess I'm still not thinking straight. It's just s-still so cold in here.”
You do your best to hug the cup of tea with both hands, still audibly shivering, while snuggling into the blankets Levi threw over you. In front of you, the hearth continues to warm, staining the room with a glow that's oddly comforting. 
A log splinters.
Then, Levi’s voice barrels through: “Hand over the tea.”
You turn towards him.
Your Captain is fixing you with a severe frown. Without questioning his orders, you hand him the drink. You think he might add some lukewarm water to it to make it drinkable, but to your surprise, he places both cups on the cold floor close to the edge of the sofa.
A confused look draws on your face.
What now?
“Fucking come here already,” your Captain orders.
And he gestures with two fingers in his direction.
That’s when you realize what Levi’s offering. He’s… beckoning you closer.
He wants to warm you up.
You gape at him.
This isn't happening. Is it? 
But apparently not interested in watching you mull this over, Levi doesn’t leave you time to consider his proposal. He yanks on the blankets draped over your shoulders, reeling you close. You heave as the back of your skull collides with his collarbone, and you readjust against the crook of his neck.
“S’ just for a moment,” he mumbles under his breath, arms settling by your side.
And who are you to contest that? He's your Captain, you can hardly disobey him (well, you know you could disobey this particular order, but it's too late for that now).
So you let him tuck you close, and you discover that Levi is warm, and you think how nice that feels after hours of walking in cold weather. In fact, Levi’s body rather reminds you of a furnace right now, burning at its strongest in winter. His embrace creates a little cocoon of body heat just for you; soon, all you can smell is him, the scent of tea leaves and cotton enveloping you into a lovely state of serenity. 
(You always did love Levi's scent.)
With enough elements grounding you, you let your head roll back, pressing against his right shoulder blade, trying to ignore his steel muscles (that you can, admittedly, finally feel to some degree—and they are just as hard as you always imagined they would be).
“Fuck, you’re freezing.” Your Captain’s voice rumbles against your back, presumably feeling the cold sting of your cheek as you nestle closer.
In response, Levi’s hands slot over your forearms, something careful and hesitant about his touch. You hold your breath, feeling his fingers spread against your sweater. There, he begins to rub up and down, repeated motions that create tiny tingles down their path.
The added friction renders you speechless.
It was one thing to be so close to him before; now, your Captain is essentially stroking you. His attempts to create warmth spread like wildfire, and in an absence of coherent thoughts, you let the fire consume you.
Soon, even the fireplace growing in size doesn’t seem to phase you. It licks the cold air, spreading from all sides, but it is nothing compared to the burning sensations simmering across your neck, your cheeks, and down to your core. It’s like Levi’s touch is commanding it everywhere, this warmth, leaving you flustered and confused.
Then Levi’s fingers make contact with your bare wrist, and you jolt.
Because unlike the rest of his body, his hands are freezing.
“What… Captain! Your hands are—w-wha—” You let your voice trail, heart plummeting in your chest, when you come to a realization, a realization that makes you a little frustrated. “Hey! You were cold all along as well!”
A clicking sound resonates against the shell of your ear. “Stop yapping.”
You try to move to face him, but Levi grabs your wrists with an iron grip, keeping you locked against the expanse of his chest, making his order quite clear.
“Quit squirming and stay put,” he mutters. 
“But, Captain, you gave me all the blankets,” you complain, for once foregoing your respect for him and letting your concern speak volumes instead. A decided frown settled between your brows. “What would I say to Hange if their best soldier died trying to save me?”
“I wasn't going to die."
"But what if you did?"
"Then I’m sure you’d have found a creative way to spin it.”
“You still shouldn’t have done that. I’m not worth Humanity’s Strongest.”
“Stop saying stupid shit and focus on staying warm.”
You sigh. Your Captain and his stubborn ways. He was never good at putting his needs on the line, and years of military service haven’t changed this fact.
Still, not finding the energy to argue back, you allow the conversation to die out.
It is only a minute later, as you try to relax back in your position that you notice that Levi’s breath has mellowed out as well. In fact, your Captain’s attempts at creating frictions have slowed in urgency. His pace is now languid; his fingers are wrapped around your shoulders while his thumbs slide up and down, up and down. Slow.
You imagine that the two of you rather look like two people lounging on a sofa after a long day's work.
Like lovers.
“Tea's ready,” comes Levi's husky voice, making you jump in your seat.
You swallow down all the feelings bubbling at the back of your throat—the ones begging and begging to be let out—keeping your face trained ahead.
“R-right. Um, thank you for that, Captain,” you say. "I feel all better now."
Breaking away from his embrace, you try to avoid his burning gaze. You grab both cups, handing him one without sparring him a glance.
Instead, you move to sit at the edge of your seat, far away from your Captain. Between the two of you, the covers bundle together, discarded.
“So, what do you think?” he asks.
You stare at your flustered reflection in the tea cup. "Mm?"
“Why the hell does it smell like old eggs in here?”
That takes you right out of it.
You finally look up at Levi, meeting his lidded stare. Old eggs?
“... Sorry?”
“The fucking stench,” he mutters, wrinkling his noise. “It reeks in here.”
And that’s when you realize that Levi is talking about the smell in the air, the scent that’s lingered everywhere since you entered the house, but you were too focused on everything else to notice.
An odor you know well enough.
“Oh,” you say dumbly, “that’s the smell of a hot spring.”
“What?”
You finish your cup of tea in one gulp, now just perfectly warm and drinkable, and place it back on the floor. “I think this house might have one.”
You swiftly get up, darting to the bedroom you changed in earlier.
And sure enough, as you pull the curtains open, you notice a familiar sight. The back gardens of the house, all dusted in white, are painted with steam and water.
A hot spring.
.... And you are, you realize, a complete idiot.
Why didn't you think of this before? You could have simply taken a dip to warm up.
“What’s that?” Levi’s monotone voice comes from behind. He’s close to you, hovering just behind your shoulders, but you do not turn around. You’re certain that if you do, that you will find him bathed by the moonlight and that you won’t be able to form a single coherent sentence.
“A natural body of water, sir. It’s what Commander Hange was talking about in their briefing for this mission. Hot springs are found all over these mountains..." You bite your lower lip. "I didn’t realize we were right next to a hot spring. I could have spared you all the effort in warming me up.”
“No thanks, I’ve no intentions in having us swim around in something that smells so foul,” he grumbles. “Besides, it’s not good to go from two extreme temperatures.”
You hum. “True enough.”
“It smells vile.”
“It’s the sulfur. It’s great for muscle tension.”
“Sounds dubious.”
“I promise, it’s true!”
Forgetting your own advice, you turn around to drive your point home, and you realize that Levi is close—that you could count his eyelashes, if you wanted. But you don’t, because normal soldiers don’t think about counting the eyelashes of their superior.
“W-When I was young," you stammer, "my parents sometimes brought me up to the mountains to swim in them. They’re perfectly safe.”
Levi makes a face. “I’ll pass. But I guess it’s good to know the stench isn’t coming from the house itself.”
You snort.
Levi’s eyes seem to soften, half-lidded as they were. And just as you suspected, the moonlight trickling in really does something to your Captain’s face, bathing in with a silver hue that brings out the blue in his eyes.
Don’t look at his lips, don’t look at his lips, don’t lips…
“Looks like titan steam,” the Captain suddenly comments, looking at the steam fogging the windows beyond your shoulders.
He takes a step back.
You let out a much-needed breath, one you didn’t realize you were holding all along. “Uh-huh. It does.”
You glance back towards the hot spring, noticing that the snowstorm is close to subsiding, a cloak of black draping the sky beyond.
“Well, I suppose we should get to work, now that we’re all warmed up, huh?” you suggest. 
“Yeah. Let's get this dusty-old house spotless.”
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That night, you can't fall asleep.
This in itself isn’t a rare occurrence—most Scouts have somewhat questionable sleeping habits. Between the world of titans and watching comrades die, there's plenty of reasons for soldiers to struggle with sleeping.
The problem is, at least tonight, the culprit isn’t insomnia.
It’s… something else.
Something that's lead your thoughts astray.
Maybe it's everything that happened with the Captain earlier, maybe it's the snowy setting that feels oddly romantic, maybe it's the cold that zapped your brain but... you keep on imagining what it’d be like to have Levi next to you, doing indescribable things to you. You imagine him turning on his pillow, taking his time to take in every line of your exposed skin. He’d unravel you with his gaze alone, you’re sure of it. Would he bestow the same intensity he reserves in training? Would his fingers hook around your limbs with the same ferocity? You think they might.
You think—
You groan, cutting your fantasies short. You and your damn fixation on Captain Levi—the one person who couldn’t possibly be less within your reach. This crush of yours must be a cruel joke from Maria, Rose, Sina… maybe all three of them combined.
More importantly, why is it all resurfacing now of all times? It's been fucking years that this one-sided crush of yours has been, just, there. In all this time, you've managed to reign in your emotions.
So why? Why won't your mind stop wandering into dangerous territories? Why can't you shut it down even now?
Whatever the reason may be, you need to find a solution to your... predicament. You suppose you could try to be quiet about it here, to bring yourself the release you desire, but you fear your Captain hearing you, given that he's sleeping in the room next to yours. You can’t imagine being caught in the act of pleasuring yourself.
No.
You need to find somewhere private.
Somewhere like…
Oh. 
The hot springs.
Of course—why didn’t you think about it before?
At once, you shuffle to a seated position in your bed, glancing out of the windows of the bedroom. The weather has cleared up by now, freckles of delicate white weaving through the air. Just beyond it, the hot spring awaits.
Serene. Lovely. Inviting.
Just the kind of spot you've been dreaming of.
Sure, your Captain wasn’t too keen on the smell, but you can wash afterwards.
Yes, this will have to do.
With your grand master-plan now laid out, you quickly spring into action. You gather your belongings: a towel, boots, an oil lamp.
In the main room, the remains of the fireplace are still dim and warm. Levi is occupying the second bedroom, and his door is closed shut—just as you’d hoped. It’s well past midnight, he must be asleep.
You grin to yourself. So far, your plan is a resounding success.
Outside, the air hangs still. The blizzard's fury has long passed, leaving only delicate snowflakes that twirl gracefully through the air. You pause to savor the newfound peace, taking in the picturesque landscape: rolling hills blanketed in pristine white, majestic forests embracing the mountain's gorges.
And the hot springs.
Nestled nearby, the cabin's springs stretch impressively, their shape narrow and serpentine rather than wide. Smooth rocks jut out over the water's edges, with pines and shrubs clinging to them. Together with the rising steam, they weave a misty veil that softens your view of the night.
Shedding your clothes, you quickly step in.
And oh... the initial touch of warm water is everything you'd hoped for and more. It sends a delightful trail of goosebumps trailing across your body.
The hot spring is shallow enough for ease, yet deep enough to envelop you comfortably as you sit. As you wade deeper, the water laps gently just above your chest, soothing the day’s weariness from your muscles. You let out a contented sigh, a particular knot in your spine coming undone.
This is the respite you've craved these past hours, especially after today's strenuous hike. It's a pity, really, that your Captain was so against the hot springs. This might have done him some good.
You venture further in with a smile plastered on your face. The clear waters mirror the starlit sky above, inviting you to explore every tranquil corner of this secluded paradise.
It isn't until you're midway across the hot spring, shoulders dipped beneath the water, that a sense of unease begins to gnaw at you.
Light.
Movement. 
Noise.
With the instincts of a trained Scout, you crouch into the water. Through the shrubs, you suddenly notice a pool of yellow light, too intense and artificial to be anything natural. Strange. It bears the distinct glow of the oil lamps used by the Survey Corps. More troubling still, there's a subtle sound of splashing water.
Your gaze flicks anxiously to where your clothes lie scattered, a distance away. You didn't bring a weapon with you. Should you attempt to go back?
Before you can think further on what to do next, your peripheral catches a glimpse of pale skin.
You freeze.
In the thickening steam, rising like delicate spirals into the chilly air, it’s hard to trust your eyes. This could easily be a hallucination.
But as the figure emerges, shoulders and back surfacing smoothly from the water, the reality sets in sharply.
It's him.
Captain Levi.
The man you’ve had a crush on for as long as you remember.
The man who you were just fantasizing about.
The man who’s currently naked a short distance away from you.
Oh.
Oh no.
This is bad.
Levi is clearly out for a swim. Apparently unaware of your presence, he pauses at the edge of the spring closest to a hill. He tilts his head back, hand brushing back wet hair. He looks up at the sky, oddly peaceful.
(The altitude is so high that it almost looks like your Captain could touch stars if he wanted to.)
But then your attention is drawn inexorably to the droplets cascading down his bare chest, and the full implications of your predicament crash over you.
Sure, water conceals Levi’s lower body, but his upper body leaves little left to the imagination. The curves of his shoulders, sloping down towards well-sculpted biceps. His chest, marked with scars and lines left by ODM use. His abs, well-defined and toned—a feat you know is only possible due to his diligent training ethic.
Already, warning bells ring in your brain.
What are you doing still standing here? By some miracle, Levi hasn’t noticed you. But with his perceptive senses, it won’t be long before he does.
And when that happens, you’re in trouble. Not only are you naked and gawking, but you also have no real reason to be here.
You could try to tell him you couldn't sleep. If anyone could understand, it might be Levi. The man rarely sleeps.
But you’re not entirely sure your Captain wouldn’t see right through your deception. He's sharp like that.
That can't happen. You can't admit to him the real reason you came out here: to touch yourself while thinking of him.
You need to leave. Now.
Which is why you carefully start to back away, eyes trained on him—praying he doesn't notice you.
Unfortunately, while you miraculously slipped past Levi’s attention the first time around, your luck has run out. His focus shifts, honed like a hawk zeroing in on its prey.
Then comes his voice, slicing through the quiet of the night. “Who’s there?”
The familiar timbre sends shivers down your spine and tightens the knot between your legs.
Panic sets in.
Desperate, you dive underwater, hoping to blend into the natural shroud provided by the spring.
But Levi isn’t called Humanity’s Strongest for nothing. With instincts sharper than a knife, you see the blurred outline of his pale body trudge through the water at an alarming speed.
Shit.
Shit.
Shit.
Levi’s voice rumbles through the water, but the meaning of his words are drowned by the elements. Your lungs burn as you begin to swim away, the mingling bubbles and steam clouding around you, the sulfuric scent of the spring sharp in your nostrils.
You pump every ounce of strength in your frantic escape.
Then a strong hand clamps around your arm, and you're dragged upwards.
“Oi!”
Instinctively, your hand lashes out, grabbing hold as your body is yanked forward. You gasp, air filling your lungs, the cold biting at your wet skin.
Your eyes round when you realize what your hand has landed on: one of Levi’s biceps.
You glance up, eyes locking with your Captain's surprised face.
A choked sound escapes you.
“What...” He says your first name, a frown settling between his militant brows. There's a lull in the conversation, like he doesn't quite believe what he's seeing, but his barking tone soon replaces it. “What the hell are you doing?”
Moments later, his lips press together in a taut line, and his biting grip tightens. He pushes back so that you're pressed against the edge of the hot spring, where he lets you go.
You land with a splash. 
At once, you attempt to cover yourself using your hands, dipping into the water so that you're almost entirely submerged. Levi looms over you, apparently not feeling discomfort from being naked before you. The water level arrives below his waist, and you can’t help but notice a trail of trimmed black hair that starts just above his navel.
You want to scream.
Your eyes fleet back up. His expression is inscrutable, but his eyes carry an intensity that you've only seen reserved for training sessions.
“You have five seconds to explain yourself,” Levi grumbles, magnetic and sharp. 
“I—” you begin, only to close your mouth again.
You… what? You can’t tell Levi the truth. You would rather drown than admit to your lewd intentions.
But you also have to say something. 
“—I didn’t realize you were in here,” you manage with some difficulty. 
There. That's not a lie, is it? You wouldn't dare to come in here if you knew your Captain would be around.
Unfortunately, your answer doesn’t seem to satisfy him.
“And why aren’t you asleep?” he asks.
You bite the inside of your cheek, watching the steam envelop Levi’s torso. “I couldn’t sleep, sir.”
“We’ve got a long hike ahead of us tomorrow. You can’t be dead weight because you wanted to go on a midnight stroll.”
You hate this… this feeling that you are letting him down. It’s everything you strive to avoid when it comes to your Captain. You’re proud to be in his squad and you pride yourself on being the best soldier you can be.
“That won't happen, sir. I can carry my weight.” You try to sound resolute, calm and collected. You fear you may be failing. “And Captain… I find it a bit odd that you're saying all of this to me.”
“What?”
Walls. You’re treading dangerous territories.
You clear your throat, waving a hand in the air. “Didn't you say the water was unhygienic? That it reeked? That we should both go to sleep?”
"Get to the point."
"I just assumed..." you mumble, chewing at the inside of your cheeks.
"Oh, I see." Something flashes in his eyes. Torture. "You hoped you could just do as you please, that the curfew rules didn't apply to you. Hate to break off your fantasies, soldier, but that's not going to happen. I'm here and you're caught."
"Well, you also need sleep, so..." you attempt, dipping your chin away from him and into the water. Levi's eyes narrow. You clear your throat. “I’m just speaking out of concern.”
“Then don’t concern yourself.”
You grimace. You're really not doing too well with all of this, are you?
You need to turn the tide, somehow. 
“I apologize, Captain. But I don’t think I’m in the wrong," you try to reason. "My track record speaks for itself: I’ve never faltered, even when running on fumes. You know I haven’t. I couldn’t sleep and this seemed like the best solution to reach that end. I wasn’t planning to stay here all night or to be a burden, sir; I just needed to clear my head before going to bed.”
You look at him again, trying to stand straighter for your words.
Levi's expression doesn't falter.
Then, he lets out a long exhale, half-turning away from you. “Look, I'm not your parent. Do as you please. But don’t come crying to me tomorrow if you're tired. You better be able to keep up. I expect nothing less of you.”
Your Captain must recognize that level-headed attitude he witnessed plenty of times out on expeditions, or he wouldn’t let you go down so easily.
Levi rubs his eyelids with the tips of his fingers. “And next time, pay better attention. There are all manners of perverts in this world. Even if this place seemed abandoned, you can never be too careful. It’s unlike you to be so careless.”
You chuckle nervously. If only Levi realized you’re the only degenerate lurking these waters.
“Right,” you answer. “Lucky it’s just you.”
As you say those words, Levi looks at you—really looks at you—and something shifts in his expression. His eyes move away from your face, casting his stern gaze over the rest of your body, as if seeing you for the first time.
His attention makes your breath stop.
“You should still be careful," he says in a low tone. "Men in the military are still men.”
You swallow loudly, a delicious sensation coiling at the bottom of your stomach. There’s something suggestive in Levi’s words, isn't there? You tell yourself that it’s just him showing his concern and that it means nothing beyond that.
“As I said, lucky it’s just you,” you repeat.
Then, Levi surprises you.
He takes a step forward, cornering you further to the edge of the spring. His stare glints like starlight.
Your heart leaps. What is he doing? Outside of training, Levi never approaches you like this.
You try to keep your cool at the sudden proximity. Knowing that just one peek down, and you’d see what lies between your Captain's legs. You briefly wonder what his cock looks like.
If it’s like the rest of him…
Stop.
You need to focus now—your Captain is speaking to you.
“And who’s saying I’m not the sort of man to take advantage of a situation like this one?”
Your breath hitches, unsure if you heard him correctly. His gray eyes linger on your bare shoulders, fixing it like his stare could pierce through them.
Is he... is he testing you?
Your eyes meet again. His pupils are dilated, yours are wide. 
“I know you,” you hear yourself say, “you’re not that type of man.”
For a moment, neither of you speak. Snow continues to dust the air, melting into the warm water surrounding you both. A faint gust of wind wheezes from down the mountain.
“You have that much faith in me, do you?” Levi asks quietly.
Your eyes flit back up. Levi has dipped further down into the water. He looks... pensive, eyes fixing his rippled reflection.
The sight of him so close almost takes the air out of your lungs.
And you’re reminded of how handsome your Captain is.
In all the years you’ve known him, all you could do was admire him from a distance—trying to keep your feelings and attraction for him in check. But Levi has always been beautiful, even when you denied yourself the opportunity to think so.
Deep-set eyes that remind you of muted skies—the occasional spark of blue shining when the sun hits his face just right. A velvety undercut that you know he trims himself every other week, the rest of his shiny hair parted in the middle. Rosy lips that appear permanently pressed together—only you’ve seen it: on the rare occasions that your Captain allows himself a downtime to drink a cup of tea with his squad and friends… yeah, the corners of his mouth twitch upwards, and the world is graced with one of Levi’s rare smiles. It’s a sight that you’ve kept locked in your heart.
“Yes,” you whisper, “I do.”
Levi's eyes come smoldering back onto you. “Speak up.”
“I would follow you to the ends of the earth, Captain Levi.”
It's true.
You first agreed to join Levi’s squad because you’d seen him fly, seen the way he handled his ODM gear. You grew to respect him like no one else. You stayed because of the sort of leader Levi proved to be. He didn’t demand authority like the rest, but he exuded it all the same. He didn’t care to be Humanity’s Strongest, but he still garnered hope and made people believe in him.
“I mean it,” you add, “I’m devoted to you.”
Levi's face pinches. “Careful with your words. I don’t like thoughtless sheep.”
“That’s not what I mean. You know I’m not scared to question your orders if I disagree with them. I’m smart and I’m strong. But even so, you’re the person I followed when I joined the Scouts. I would do anything for you.”
His eyes do not blink. “Anything.”
“Anything.”
Levi swallows heavily, taking a step back.
“Don’t say shit like that," he mutters. "Anything is everything. Other people would abuse your willingness. You should be careful.”
A moment passes by. You lick your lips, already moistened by the fog. Suddenly, you recall the actual reason for being here. You’re hot, burning. Like if you don’t get the release you desire, you might just need to cool off in the snow somewhere.
It might be why you dare to say your next words.
“Do you want to abuse my willingness?” you ask.
Levi’s stare darts back to you. Before you can control it, you squeeze your thighs tightly together, finding the tension unbearable. Levi takes notice: his eyes burn up and down, mouth parted.
It's maybe Levi's stupor that makes you act next. You push yourself up on the balls of your feet, rising with an arm draped over your breasts. The water provides a somewhat decent cover over what lies below your waist, but it does nothing to stop runlets plowing down your exposed curves.
Levi’s goes still. 
And you push through. 
“I lied, Captain Levi,” you tell him. 
His brows knit together.
“The truth is, I came out here because," you avert your gaze, "… because I needed relief.”
“Relief.”
“Yes, relief in the…," your cheeks grow warm, "physical sense, I mean.”
“You mean masturbation.”
“You’re putting it rather plainly, but sure,” you mumble. “I.. I’d still like that relief, sir.”
“Look, whatever depravity you’re up to does not concern—”
“With you. I'd like for it to be with you.”
Everything goes still after that.
Levi’s entire face is blank, as if he sucked in all his emotions. All you can hear is the light gust of wind, swallowed by the mountains.
“What..." Levi opens his mouth, then closes it shut again as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. The knot in his throat bobs in what you can only describe as the most painful seconds of your life. You swear your heartbeat must be loud enough for him to hear. "What you're suggesting. You realize that it’s against the rules.”
“I realize, sir,” you say.
“That I’m your Captain and you’re my subordinate?”
Dread settles at the bottom of your stomach. Yikes, you’re in for one of his lectures, aren’t you?
“Yes, Captain Levi.”
“That both of us could get in trouble if this gets out?”
... What?
Your eyes flit up.
Did you hear him correctly?
Levi assesses you. He takes a step forward and you shrivel back as he plants his arms on either side of your body, caging you in. He dips down into the water to come eye-level with you.
“Tell me,” he murmurs, stare never straying from yours.
You blink. Is your Captain seeking to understand your desires?
"S-sir?” you stutter.
“Tell me what you want, if you could have it,” he says.
Oh shit, he is. Your Captain is actually trying to understand what you want.
“Oh, um," you fumble with your words, heartbeat climbing up to your throat. Truthfully, you never expected to make it this far, so you feel unprepared. "Well, in my fantasies, my partner would… touch me, sir.”
“Where?”
“Everywhere. But I suppose it begins with a… kiss.”
Levi’s eyes flicker to your lips.
Oh, fuck.
"Show me." 
Your eyes widen. "S-show you?"
"That's what I just said."
Now, normally, you'd be the type to overthink and overanalyze just about everything. So when your Captain says those words, beckons you closer, you stop thinking.
You do as he asks and you kiss him.
And you discover that his mouth is soft, like velvet on skin.
Then Levi leans into you—moving his lips over yours, cupping your cheeks with more vigor—and you realize that it’s truly happening. Your hands fall onto his chest bone and his heartbeat sparks under your fingertips. It's his heart. The heart he dedicated to the Survey Corps—it's yours, if only for a brief moment.
And reality crashes on you.
You’re kissing Levi Ackerman. Your Captain. Humanity's Strongest.
Holy shit.
Not wanting to waste this fleeting opportunity (because surely, this can't last), you slide your tongue further into the depths of his mouth. Levi lets out a hum of approval, and you taste him—taste the chamomile he drinks most evenings and the mint from his toothpaste.
When your eyes venture open, you find that your Captain’s steely gaze is already fixed on you, watching you through a half-lidded stare. You can see the clear blue ring around his silver irises. 
It only makes you want him more.
"C-captain," you say through the kiss. 
Levi breaks apart briefly. “Tell me.”
You take his hand and guide it to your chest.
“T-touch me here. Please.”
Levi acquiesces, gripping the bud of your nipple between two fingers and pinching, hard.
Pleasure ripples through your body, making you whimper in place.
At that moment, you can only imagine what you look like—flushed, pliant and pleading for more. You’ve never shown this side of yourself to him before; you wonder if it repulses him.
Wrong, utterly wrong. The opposite seems to be true, in fact; your Captain seems to delight himself with this facet you are revealing.
“Desperate, are we?” he murmurs into the shell of your ear, tone dripping with a husky sense of satisfaction.
Before you can answer to his teasing, his mouth moves over your neck, while his hands continue to caress your breasts. The contrast of temperatures is so stark—the hot spring so warm, his skin so cold—that it makes you audibly gasp.
Your hands slide up towards his nape, and you brush the brittle undercut and twist, tugging him closer.
That’s when you feel it… the hardness—his hardness, pressing against your plump flesh.
At the contact, the Captain groans against your throat, biting down without restraint. You whimper, attempting to push back, but Levi's teeth don't let go.
"Quit squirming," he mutters.
Your warm breath clouds the air. “C-captain, please.”
“Mm?”
"Please touch me. I can’t bear to wait anymore.”
In response, Levi slides his free hand to tug at your hair. He pulls on your locks, exposing the side of your neck for him to ravish, nibbling from the tip of your ear to your collarbone.
“Don't you know that all good things come to those who wait?” he says. 
Vindictive that your Captain is depriving you of what you’ve asked, you decide to give him a taste of his own medicine. You roll your hips forward, grinding against him, a fleeting attempt to make him just as desperate at you are.
Levi hisses as your soft curves plow against his erection. “You little minx.”
He pulls you back to shoot you a glare. Dangerous move, his eyes convey. And yet, it also gives you a glimpse into his state and, oh... interesting. You aren’t the only one who’s flustered, you realize—rosiness dusts his cheeks and his pupils are wide-shot black.
Your lips quirk into a playful smile.
Levi shrugs with one arm, looking away. “Be patient, will you?” His voice is hoarse. “I’m not someone who does things half-way.”
You roll your eyes. “Uh-huh. Believe me, I’ve noticed.”
Levi lets out a grunt that’s so decidedly him.
Suddenly, Levi completely lets go and your body drops into the water. You frown. One of Levi's lids twitches.
“What are you doing?” you ask.
“Teaching you some patience. Wait here and stay put."
"But, you said—“
“—that's an order.”
You close your mouth, shivering at the commanding tone in his voice. You aren't sure how you'll be able to go back from this after tonight—listening to his orders on the battlefield is going to be a nightmare.
Nonetheless, you do as he says, watching as he swims offshore where the oil lamp is placed.
And the whole situation hits you like bricks.
Holy shit.
You just kissed Captain Levi. And you're about to do more with him.
Why exactly is it happening now, of all times, you wonder? Why is your Captain allowing this?
In all the years you’ve been working alongside the Captain, you always thought your crush had gone unnoticed, or if Levi knew, that he had ignored it altogether.
Your observations are cut short as Levi comes back, holding up his towel and his green cloak above the water's surface.
You raise a questioning brow.
“I’m not touching you in this water, natural spring or not.” Your Captain unfolds the towel as he places it neatly over the smooth edge of the hot spring that's snow-free, casting the cloak behind. He shifts his blank stare on you, and taps on the ground with one hand. “Sit.”
You gulp, self-conscious at the idea of exposing yourself like this. Sure, it’s nighttime, and sure, the steam obscures the air, but he’s demanding a level of vulnerability that you hardly give out.
Levi picks up on your hesitation in a flash of a moment, reading you like a book. “You can still back away from this, you know.”
“I… no. No, I want this.” And you do—the way your core pulsates even now should be a telltale sign of just how much you want this. “I really want this.”
“Then what? You’re never uncertain during expeditions.”
“That’s because I know my shit out there. It’s not that easy with you. This is scary.”
Levi scoffs. “You think I’m scarier than a titan?”
“Of course not. But I overthink.”
Levi traps your chin between two fingers, tilting your head so you’re forced to look at him. “Then don’t think.” 
You falter, mouth parting. Levi skims a thumb over your lower lip. The sudden gentleness behind his words, combined with his actions, makes you falter.
“Okay,” you find yourself whispering back.
“Okay, what?”
You meet his stare head-on. His eyes are no longer a muted silver, but turning towards a stormy gray. They demand an answer.
And you have just the thing to give him.
“Please help me not to think, Captain.”
Levi lets out a long hum as he slides closer. There, he takes the time to kiss your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, your neck, all the while his hands create a path down your body, exploring for the first time.
“Is that what you want?” he asks in a low tone. “For me to help you stop thinking?”
“Y-yes." You swallow loudly. "You have complete control. Do whatever you want to me, just... get me there.”
In one movement, Levi plucks you off the ground, his hands gripping your ass as if you weighed nothing at all. You squirm in his grip, clutching his back for support as your wet flesh slides against his own. He then carefully places you onto the towel so that you're sitting on the edge of the hot spring, your calves dipping into the water. The rocks under you are smooth, and you now tower over him.
Levi takes a step back to admire you, his eyes roving over every facet of your body, tracing your curves with meticulous care.
It makes you squirm in place. “Captain…”
“Levi,” he answers without missing a beat, engrossed in admiring your body. He parts your legs as he anchors himself in between them, where he draws circles along your rib cage, thumb slotting along every dip.
“Huh?”
His silver eyes look up to you, a fire in them that wasn’t there before.
“We’re not here as soldiers, so. Just call me Levi,” he says.
One hand nestles along the flesh of your waist while you tremble in his arms. Levi angles your head sideways with his other palm, siphoning your neck with kisses before finding a sensitive spot that makes you gasp.
“Alright… ah, Levi,” you say with some difficulty. It feels strange to call your Captain so informally, but there’s something arousing about it too.
"And if I do anything that displeases you or that feels too much, just so."
"Say what?"
He pulls back for a moment. "I don't know, pick something."
"Anything?"
He nods.
You think about it for a moment when the idea hits you. "Okay... Green, red. Formation colors."
Levi scoffs. "Titan formations."
"You said to pick, so I picked. Still a soldier through and through, right?"
"Whatever you say."
Levi’s hand trails to your chest, moving to cup one of your breasts between his nimble digits. His thumbs toy with it while his tongue finds its place along the valley of your second breast.
His hot breath drifts against the tip of your hardened tit, “I'm gonna go down on you.”
Before you can answer, Levi flicks the bud of your nipples with his teeth, swirling his tongue in circles that sparks pleasure everywhere—leaving you to moan and hold onto his set of hair.
Your words tumble mid-breath. “Are you s-sure?”
Levi’s stare lock with yours, his lips still sealed to your breast. He pulls away with a pop, a thread of saliva connecting between his mouth and your nipple.
The sight makes you want to scream.
“Have I ever said anything I didn’t mean?” he asks.
A shiver runs down your spine.
“No… I guess not. I… fuck, okay, yes. Go down on me, Levi. Green, so fucking green.”
Levi takes a step back, using your name to usher you into execution. “On your back, then, and put my cloak on. You’re not catching a fucking cold from this.”
I don’t think I’ll be getting cold with what's ahead, you think to yourself. 
Nonetheless, you comply with his orders. You slide his cloak over your shoulders and prop your elbows down. Before you can blink, Levi pulls you towards him by the grip of your thighs, causing your back to lie flush with the ground. You glance at him, bewildered.
Levi has wrapped his hands around the meat of your legs, parting them to have full access. There's a wild glint to his eyes, like what you have between your legs is making him lose himself. Before you can blink, Levi begins to heed kisses on the inner parts of your legs, his touch slow and treacherous. It makes your hips buck, twitching beneath him.
“Sensitive, are we?” Levi tuts, his warm breath tickling your skin.
Any clever answer you might have given him is snuffed out as his warm breath falls on your sex. His hot tongue dips into your folds, something almost wicked in the way he rams in. You jerk up, calves sliding out of the water to wrap themselves around his neck.
You shoot up to grab a fistful of his hair.
But Levi stops you in your tracks. He pulls back, gathering your wrists in one hand. “Stay put. You can look but you can’t touch.”
And with that, he flings your wrists to your stomach, clinging onto you as his other hand pins one leg down. Then, he relishes in the wetness between your legs, slowing down in a manner that’s oh so sensual.
That wicked little man.
“Captain,” you complain, trembling beneath his touch. You can’t take it anymore—not being able to move, being held down as he unravels you, and now he teases you with his tongue?
It’s too much and at the same, it's not enough.
In response, Levi doubles down on his efforts.
“S-s-shit,” you breathe out, your mind going into overdrive from being pinned like this. 
You knew of Levi’s strength, of course. Everyone within the Walls knows about Humanity’s Strongest. You’ve even had the privilege to witness it firsthand on expeditions.
But seeing it used in his lovemaking, well… it's something else entirely.
“You fucking tease. You're doing it on purpose, aren't you?” you mutter. 
His voice hums against your sex. “And what if I am?”
That’s when Levi hits your spot, tenderly sucking on your clit in a way that makes you heave. This time, you can’t help but release a louder moan, hips arching up to meet his lips.
But just as you're about to reach that bliss you've craved all along, Levi pulls away.
You're left cold. Aching.
You tilt your head to gape at him. Levi’s mouth glistens with your slickness, but it does nothing to quell down your frustration.
What the hell is he doing?
You’re about to mouth him off when his expression shifts, stormy eyes narrowing.
“Patience,” he grits out.
It’s painful, the way he just delayed your orgasm. In the absence of his touch, your core throbs, begging for some kind of release.
So despite him being your superior, you can’t help but let out disgruntled words, “I don’t like being delayed, sir.”
Levi scoffs as his hands travel back onto your dampened skin. “I always knew you’d get bossy in bed.”
Your brows raise, wondering if you heard him correctly. Does this mean your Captain has thought about you… in bed?
Before you can ask, Levi moves on, dipping back into the task at hand. He shoves your legs apart, pinning you in place with an iron grip. His other hand trails over your damp inner thigh, positioning one finger at the entrance of your vagina, a digit sliding in. You feel your walls clench around his finger, pleasure ebbing through you as he discovers that magic spot that makes your toes curl.
“Perfect fucking cunt,” Levi slurs against you, cheek pressed against your shaking leg as he glides his deft finger with steady movements, mouth nuzzling closer to your silky clit.
You whimper at his praises, hips bulking up to chase his tongue. You try to keep quiet, but the more your Captain learns where to hit your points of pleasure, the more you think you may not maintain this charade for very long.
You realize that the way he delayed your orgasm has made the buildup now so much more intense. Your muscles tense, like a spring about to let loose.
So the relief that comes from Levi’s mouth wrapping against your clit again brings tears in your eyes. Pleasure seeps in. You try to grind against him to chase it even faster, but Levi remains unwilling to allow you to assert your dominance here—he keeps you pinned, keeping complete control, like he said he would.
More—you need more.
“Please, Captain. Please, please, please.”
In response, Levi doubles down on his efforts. It's as if all he needed was to hear you plead to give you exactly what you want. His digit rams into you, the pad of his thumb moving to tease you while his tongue flicks your clit with increased fervency.
Your heart drums quicker than a horse’s canter.
“… shit, shit, shit,” you choke.
When you open your eyes again, you find that Levi’s face is locked on you already—his compact muscles tense, his usual steel-eyes now a smoky haze. If only you knew what this is doing to him. His mouth seals on your bundle of nerves with a groan, his digit curling to rub your g-spot, thrusting with well-timed movements.
And then, he hits the point you were begging to be touched all along, groaning into your folds…
Right.
There.
The coil splits and your climax flares.
Your mouth opens to release a silent scream, skull rolling back as tiny warm tingles swim through your body.
Holy hell.
Levi stays with you through the orgasm, riding the bliss with you. He takes in the sight of you coming undone for him—learning from it, committing it in his memory.
Legs shaking, you don’t even register Levi tending to you as you come down. He licks your wetness pulsating in his mouth, enraptured in the taste of it as he takes it all in. With meticulous dexterity, he slides his coated fingers into his mouth, watching you as he goes about it.
“Oh, f-fuck,” you stutter out.
In response, Levi only continues to pepper kisses over your trembling legs. A madman, you think.
After a moment, Levi’s touch slides away. The sound of water sloshing as he pushes himself out of the hot spring.
Your head lulls sideways to admire him.
Levi’s neck is flushed—whether from the stream or from going down on you, it’s hard to tell—but it’s about the most bewitching sight you’ve ever seen. He sinks to his knees, like a religious man kneels before the Three Goddesses, and your breath falters as you catch sight of his erection.
He’s hard, tip flushed red. A trail of black hair paves down from his navel to his erection, while the rest of his body glistens under the moonlight. Sinewy muscles and tendons, locked together—years of relentless training and surviving on display.
The sight of it makes it impossible to think.
“Captain Levi,” you say with some urgency.
“Mm?”
“I’m gonna need you inside me. Now.”
“Are you ordering me around?” There's slight derision in his voice, twisting your insides.
“Yes,” you lick your lip, eyes locking with his, “that’s right, I’m ordering you.”
Levi huffs, forearms flexing as he crawls towards you—slowly, like a predator does its prey. With his body still warm from the hot spring, it creates a fog around him, his pale skin gleaming like gossamer.
Levi's voice remains steady, eyes impassive, but there's a hint of something in his eyes that tells you he enjoys being spoken back to.
“Someone thinks highly of herself, ordering her Captain around,” he chastises.
“Said Captain has yet to say no.”
“And why would I refuse you?”
At that, your Captain captures your lips. Your savor the way his body molds into yours, tasting your muskiness on his tongue. A wonderful sensation overwhelms you then—knowing you allowed your body to succumb to his touches, knowing he wanted to taste you in this manner.
As he breaks away the kiss, you can't help but continue to ask for more. 
“Sir…”
Levi tugs at your waist, sliding you back down with force. “What did I say about calling me by my name?”
He looms over you, his bangs dusting his face. Your lips twitch into a coy smile, sliding your fingers into his slick hair. It's so soft.
“And what if I want to call you by your title?” you ask.
“Oh, is that how it is?” Despite the neutral tone in his voice, there’s something dark in his stare, heightened by pink cheeks and red ears. He strokes the ball of your shoulder with his thumb. “You’re one of those people who gets off on authority, huh?”
You grip his arms, turning your head away. Levi rubs his cock over your clit, teasing you and spreading your wetness. You mewl.
“You're lucky I'm feeling generous,” Levi says in your ear. “You better use it well."
Your breath catches in your chest as the tip of his length enters you. His warm hands skim over the flesh of your body, letting you slowly adjust to him, cradling you.
“That will all depend on you, Captain Levi,” you manage to pant out, letting the l sound roll of your tongue.
He grates out your name. “So fucking mouthy.”
“Well, I learned from the best, sir.”
Levi’s stare locks onto you, gazing at you like he was in a trance. His Adam's apple bobs. He almost looks vulnerable for a split moment.
“You've watched me, have you?” he says in a low tone.
Your cheeks warm at the suggestion in Levi’s words, mouth parting to contest when you feel his forefinger run along your lower lash line. Your eyes meet his piercing gaze.
He leans close, mouth hovering close to yours.
“I've watched you too,” he confesses.
And then, Levi slams into you.
Your cry mixes in with Levi's groan. Reaching blindly for something to hold on to, wanting—needing—him to understand just what he’s doing to you, you settle on clawing at his back. Levi’s thrusts are treacherous—painfully slow at first, pounding with full intensity.
The way of a man trying to ruin you.
“Holy s-shit,” you breathe, puffs of white clouding the air.
Levi holds you close as his hips roll forward to settle on a cadence that matches your vices, his flushed cheeks pressing against yours. You hook your fingers, grinding into his touch—your mind edging towards complete absolution.
“F-fuck,” he mutters, voice decadent. "You're so. Perfect.”
His words cause something delicious to swirl within you.
Levi slings an arm around your back, the other hooking up one knee to position himself deeper, slipping out and back into your wanting heat. You watch as his lips press together like he were trying to contain back a moan, but it’s obscured by your vision blurring at the sensation of his length stretching you out.
With one traitorous jerk, your walls throb in pleasure, eyes brimming with tears as you stare at Levi’s pale skin and the snow mingling together. Your nails scratch his hips, leaving red marks on his soft, plush skin.
“Levi,” you plead.
Levi, what? You aren’t sure what you’re calling out to him for. You’re too forgone, too dizzy, to notice you used his first name, let alone find the words to finish that thought.
His back muscles go taut under your fingertips, his spine moving in accordion with the rolling of his hips.
More.
More.
More.
“Captain, please, please—.”
“Be patient,” he grits out. His tousled hair clings over his forehead, lips parting as your bodies merge into one. “Fuck, I’m gonna—”
Suddenly, he pulls out of you and flips you over so that you’re on all four. He angles your waist up, one hand pinning your neck down, the other holding onto your hair, as he slides back in..
Then Levi moves down on you and bites your right shoulder—hard. Pleasures ripples through your body, feeling his mark on your skin.
"Color?" he asks, voice shaking.
"Ngh... green, so fucking green." You whimper, nails scratching at the soil. “Do it again."
And Levi only delivers, his bite turning to something strong enough to bruise as he thrusts into you.
You wonder what Levi looks like up there, gripping at your waist while the rest of your body curves face down. You wish you could frame a picture for yourself to stow away.
If you could see your Captain, you’d see that his eyes are trained on the sight of your naked body glistening with sweat. You’d catch him fixing his cock getting lost inside of you, your walls clamping around him. You’d see the way his eyes marvel at your curves—how your body blends with valleys of snow over the horizon. You'd see the blush spreading from his neck to his ears, burning the way you are.
A state of euphoria.
“F-f-fuck. I can't get enough of you,” you hear him confess.
Can’t get enough of you? Are you hearing him correctly? Since when does your Captain speak like that?
Still, his words seem to ignite something inside you, emboldened to see more of this side your Captain is revealing.
“Tell me,” you murmur, pleasuring building and building.
His answer doesn’t miss a beat, straightening up to pound into you harder. “You drive me crazy.”
Levi’s fingers dig into your flesh, something needy, something bruising, about his grip.
“Yeah? Then let me let you in on something, Levi… Captain, ah,” you mutter, eyes fluttering as he continues to fill you up. “The reason I came out here in the first place was because… ngh, I wanted to imagine your fingers touching me. Wanted to imagine it was you fingering me.”
“F-fuck,” Levi hisses.
He grips your hips with full-blooded vigor, siphoning into you with a quickened pace.
“Captain, I—”
But your words die out when three fingers find a place on your swollen clit. Your brain short-circuits.
Your orgasm splinters into the night.
You go boneless, sagging into pure bliss, while Levi continues to thrust into you. Feeling your walls clench so tightly, creaming his length, he follows soon after—the rushing heat of his climax answers your own, his pulsing cock engulfed by your heat.
And your brain? Your brain is numb.
For a moment, all the two of you can do is pant and attempt to regain your senses. One of Levi’s hand rests on the small of your back, while you slowly uncurl your fingers from the ground.
Eventually, Levi slides out of you. He uses the towel to help you clean up. You watch him go about it, mind still delirious, something almost coy about the way he handles the aftercare of your lovemaking.
When all is said and done, a comfortable silence fills the air.
It’s now well past twilight, and both of you only have a precious few hours before you’re back on the road.
Neither of you are particularly tired. You let your sore body slide back into the warm water with your Captain by your side. You watch the mountains slope down, elbows perked on the edge of the hot spring, basking in the utter peace that comes from this sort of silence.
You lean a cheek on your propped hand to watch him. A light breeze tousles Levi’s black hair, faint snow dusting the air. You count the scars twined on his torso, wondering about the story behind each one.
Maybe one day, your Captain might open up about each of them.
"Did it work?" Levi interrupts the trembling silence, watching as you draw circles over the smooth edge of the hot spring.
Your eyes circle around to meet his cloudy stare.
You raise a brow. "Did what work?"
"Did you stop thinking?"
You snort, recalling your pleading request. "Yeah. I stopped thinking. And... thank you, by the way."
Levi hums. There's another lull in the conversation, filled with comfortable silence.
“I guess I don’t need to tell you that this should remain between us,” he says.
That makes you roll your eyes. “Aw, you wound me, Captain. Here I was hoping to gossip with everyone about the way you like to eat people out.”
Levi shoots you an unimpressed look.
“I’m not stupid, Levi,” you add.
Levi clicks his tongue. “No, just too fucking ballsy. Never knew your mouth ran so wild.”
You smirk. “Well, sorry to say, sir, but you’ve not seen half of what my mouth can do.”
You swear a a rosy hue dusts the ridge of his nose. “You're a shameless thing, you know that?”
You laugh, tilting your head sideways. “I told you. I know what I want.”
“Clearly,” he remarks, eying you. “And you’ve wanted this for a while.”
Despite having just had his face buried between your legs, you can’t help but feel a little embarrassed at that comment and the confession it demands of you.
“Never said that,” you dismiss.
“No? What were your exact words? That you—”
“Don’t repeat what I said!” you hiss, glaring at him. “It was in the heat of the moment. You can’t hold it against me.”
Levi grunts in an amused way, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. You watch him through half-lidded eyes, unsure how he might use this knowledge. You didn't think about any of it before, but where do you go from here?
Levi gives you that answer seconds later. He raises a hand to your face, tugging a strand behind your ear and swirling his thumb over your jaw.
“Well, next time you dream of my fingers, just come to me,” he says simply.
There’s an intensity in his gray eyes that wasn’t there before.
You go still.
Next time?
Is that a promise?
His thumb presses over your neck, feeling you gulp against his fingertip. Your stomach contracts in anticipation.
Oh, it is a promise.
You could get used to this new side of your Captain.
And then Levi retreats, eyes never wavering from yours, and bobs his head towards the chalet.
“Now to the shower, we’re not reeking come morning.”
“But—”
“That’s an order, soldier.”
You sigh.
There’s the Captain you’ve grown to like so much.
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— Masterlist / Join my taglist / Spotify Playlist that inspired this fic Heart divider by saradika-graphics - the rest is by me ~
Taglist: @l3visthighs, @bejewelledd, @nube55, @thephantomtheory, @levilxvr, @halloweenmedic, @notgoodforlife, @sixpennydame, @youre-ackermine, @starrylevi, @loyal2rin, @levistealeaf, @queen0sharena, @levisecretgfblog, @bitchymanlet
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killxz · 2 days
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Was on tiktok and I found the funniest thing! The audio is called -4things a man does when he starts to lose feelings- but with jason x reader?
i didn't know if you wanted it to be angtsy or fluffy so I kind of just went with the flow
Detached
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Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Reader
trigger warning(s): hurt no comfort
a/n: this was left in my inbox for a little too long... but I'm back and ready to start writing again!!
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You and Jason have been drifting apart lately.
You don't know if you were just imagining it, but there definitely was a bridge between you two. An uncrossable gap. An empty feeling.
"Baby, I'm home." You closed the door of your shared apartment. Unlike the times that seemed so long ago, no eager boyfriend was waiting for you at the front door. No sweet, soft, kisses on your temple, his chocolate voice insisting on taking your bags for you.
Now, he was just sitting on the couch, reading his book. He didn't even look up when you walked past him, just giving a muttered 'hello'. Your heart sank as you observed Jason's distant demeanor. It wasn't just today; it had been building up for weeks. The warmth that once enveloped your relationship seemed to have dissipated into the cool, icy air of indifference. What was going on?
After a shower, you made your way to the living room, taking a seat at the furthest side of the couch from Jason, nervously fidgeting with your hands. The tension in the air was so thick you could hardly breathe in it. "Um, Jay?" You mumbled nervously.
"Yeah?" Came an indifferent reply.
"Are we...still on for tomorrow? We are supposed to go for a picnic at the park tomorrow." There was a spark of hope in your voice. Maybe this was what you and Jason needed to fix things. Perhaps you were just imagining things. Maybe-
"I can't, I got that case to work on with Bruce."
You froze. "But Jason, you said-"
"I know, and I'm sorry, baby," There's no feeling now when he says the word. That word used to come with affection and tender love, now, his voice was just robotic. "You know I can't hold this case up any longer."
Your heart sank further as Jason's response echoed in your mind. It was yet another missed opportunity to spend quality time together, another sign of the growing distance between you. You struggled to find the right words, the ones that could somehow bridge the gap that seemed to widen with each passing day.
"I understand," you replied, trying to keep the disappointment from seeping into your voice. "Work is important. More important than me, I guess." You muttered the last part under your breath.
But deep down, you couldn't shake the feeling of hurt and disappointment. It wasn't just about missing the picnic; it was about the underlying issue that had been festering between you two. The lack of communication, and the growing sense of disconnect — they were all symptoms of a much deeper problem.
Jason glanced at you briefly before returning his attention to his book, the distance between you feeling more pronounced than ever. You wanted to reach out, to break through the walls that had been set up between you, but you didn't know where to begin.
After a moment of silence, you gathered your courage and spoke again. "Jason, can we talk?" you asked, your voice trembling slightly.
He looked up, his expression guarded. "About what?"
"About us," you said softly, your heart pounding in your chest. "I-I feel like we've been drifting apart lately, and I don't want to lose what we have."
For a moment, Jason's facade wavered, a flicker of vulnerability shining through his stoic exterior. But just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by a mask of indifference.
"There's nothing to talk about," he said curtly, his tone final.
You felt a lump form in your throat, the weight of his words crushing any hope you had left. You realized then that the bridge between you two wasn't just uncrossable — it had crumbled beneath the weight of unspoken words and unresolved issues.
"Oh, okay." That was all that you said.
As the silence stretched between you, you couldn't help but wonder if this was the beginning of the end, if the distance that had grown between you was now too vast to overcome. "I-I'm heading to bed," You announced, not waiting for a reply as you practically ran to your shared bedroom and closed the door, feeling Jason's eyes on you as you retreated.
What had gone wrong? Where had the love and affection that once filled your days disappeared to? The questions swirled in your mind, taunting you with their lack of answers.
As the hours passed, sleep eluded you, your thoughts consumed by the uncertainty of the future. Could you salvage what was left of your relationship, or was it too late to mend the broken pieces?
The sound of footsteps outside the bedroom door snapped you out of your reverie, and you tensed, unsure of what to expect. Was Jason coming to talk, to offer reassurance and comfort? Or was he retreating further into his own world, leaving you to navigate the storm alone?
The door creaked open, and you held your breath, waiting for his presence to fill the room. But instead of Jason, there was only silence, punctuated by the hollow echo of your own heartbeat.
"Jay?"
"It's me," came his reply. He pushed through the door, sliding underneath the covers in his place on the bed.
Silence ensued.
"Do you...want to talk about it?" You quietly asked.
"Not right now, please," Jason sighed, turning away from you. As he stayed awake beside you, you can't help but think that you have really lost him.
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macabr3-barbi3 · 3 days
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Nothing I Can't Handle Chapter 3 [Alastor/Reader]
https://archiveofourown.org/works/54337009/chapters/140790502
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Lucifer comes to visit and Alastor is totally normal about it- and you decide what you want!
Tags: Reader-Insert, Alastor in Rut, Non Sex-Repulsed Alastor, Rough Sex, Possessive Sex, Biting, cunnilingus
Since you asked to be tagged! 💕 @littlecat21 @fairyv-ice and another tag for the lovely @fraugwinska bc she is the literal BEST 💝🔥
Chapter 1 🦌 Chapter 2
You should have seen it coming.
Alastor, while still seeming a bit uncomfortable with the idea of showing you attention outside of the periods of time you would spend in your bedrooms, seemed more subdued. Calmer. He no longer stalked around the hotel like a feral beast; he seemed more willing to be part of little activities and such that Charlie planned; he didn’t avoid you like the plague as he had when he first proposed his deal to you. During his ruts he was possessive and almost doting, making sure to keep you fed with homemade meals and snacks and hydrated so you no longer had to provide those things for yourself. He would drape his silk robe over your shoulders the moment you entered his room, always an admiring glance to the monogrammed ‘A’ settled over your heart.
You did occasionally get to leave his room now- his inner animal apparently sated enough with the idea that you were properly mated to allow you out of his sight for short periods of time. God forbid you spoke with anyone though- you ran into Husk one evening on the way back from the kitchen for a snack and honestly thought Alastor might eat him with the volume of his snarl before teleporting you back to his room, to his bed.
Outside of the ruts he was mostly normal. You thought nothing of the faint static feedback you heard speaking with Angel at the bar, a bit tipsy and hanging off the spider’s shoulder while you laughed. Paid no mind to the disappearance of a sinner you were having a conversation with at a party you attended with the group, turning to find him having vanished and assuming that he just wandered away. Gave Alastor a smile any time that he spooned more jambalaya into your bowl at dinner time, laughing at the way he glared at Husk if he commented on it.
You were having a great time though, still ruminating on what exactly you wanted to get out of the deal. He had stopped pestering you about it after the 3rd rut, but there wasn’t much you wanted or needed for yourself- the Hotel offered you protection and friendship, you were sexually sated, you felt no need to try to bargain for power or money. You’d been considering either asking for something small- just a token, a trifle, something to show that you didn’t really need anything in return from the deal- or something grand. Something like asking for Husk to be released, for him to find a way to end Angel’s contract with Valentino. For him to maybe at least try to see you as someone more than just what his body craves, try to see you like you see him. An object of not merely animalistic lust but affection.
You were decent at keeping your personal and business lives separate, and despite your own feelings you knew that the deal with Alastor was business. You did your best not to let your true emotions known during the times you were sequestered in his room, when he gave you that sly, knowing smile before sliding the robe off your shoulders, when he sank his teeth into your shoulder and mumbled that you were his, his mate, perfect and lovely.
You were absolutely not getting lost in that fantasy. You were helping him- that was all he expected to come of it.
That was what you thought, anyway, until the Devil did what he did best and fell right into the middle of things, fucking everything up for everyone.
Lucifer’s visits to the hotel were few and far between, but you should have anticipated some kind of tension between him and Alastor the first time he visited after you made the deal to help him with his ruts.
Charlie’s father was a sweet guy, for being the king of Hell. A little awkward, a little eccentric, a lot handsy. Not in any way that was disrespectful, of course, but he was quite liberal with his hugs and handshakes and placing of hands on a back or shoulder when standing next to someone or guiding them somewhere. For the most part you were perfectly fine with it; perhaps a blush here or there at the proximity of the man sometimes, but you had no reason to brush him off or ask him to stop. You even had some actual conversations once in a while, discussions about books and art and anything else that seemed to strike his fancy. You never thought you would have anything in common with the literal Devil.
He was making his way down the line greeting everyone, pulling you into a tight hug when you offered him your hand. “Always great to see everyone, beautiful, but especially you!” He pulls back to look at you at arms length for a moment, his eyes traveling your face. “Ya know, I’ve been meaning to ask-”
“Ah, his Majesty has seen fit to join us for an evening!” At the sound of Alastor’s voice Lucifer stiffens, pulls away from you- his question forgotten in favor of fucking with the Radio Demon. “To what do we owe the pleasure? Surely you have more pressing matters to attend to.” He gives a pointed glance to the head of a rubber duck that pokes out from the front of Lucifer’s jacket pocket.
“Well, Alastor , I’m the King of Hell and I do what I want.” He sneers the other demon’s name, shoving the duck deeper into his pocket. “If I want to join my daughter and her lovely friends for a night I’m going to do just that.”
Alastor slides an arm behind you, the warmth of his hand making a home on your lower back. “By all means, then, join us! This way, my dear,” and he guides you away from Lucifer with gentle pressure, leaving the monarch behind to greet the rest of the hotel inhabitants as Niffty climbs him like a tree.
You shoot Alastor a sideways look. His last rut had ended weeks ago, the next not meant to happen for another couple months at least. He was testy like he sometimes got right before the rut happened, where the animal instincts and unfamiliar hormones were flooding his body in preparation. Antagonizing, a little possessive.
He leads you to a lobby couch, everyone else filing in behind the two of you and finding their seats. Lucifer sits in one nearest to Charlie and gestures frantically at you to take the cushion next to him- before you can even decide, Alastor has shifted his shadow to fill the vacant seat.
“How thoughtful of you!” He crosses his legs, settling back into the softness of the sofa. “I must say, sire, I never imagined you would wish to be seated beside me but of course-”
“I wasn’t fucking talking to you,” Lucifer snarls, but Alastor has already patted the cushion next to himself for you to occupy. Once you sit, the shorter demon leans forward, trying to catch your eye. “I wanted to ask if ya still wanted to come see the library at the manor!”
“Oh gosh, I totally forgot about that.” One of your more recent conversations, a discussion of literature and lost texts, had led to Lucifer offering to show you his manor sometime, the vast library a mere portal away. “I’m absolutely still interested!”
Alastor stiffens beside you, his neck snapping with the speed he turns to look at you.
Charlie lights up with excitement. “Oh you will absolutely love it,” she exclaims, leaning so far forward in her chair you think she might fall out of it, Vaggie placing a supportive hand on her back to prevent exactly that. “Dad, can we all make a trip of it? I think everyone in the group could benefit- I can’t believe I never thought to invite everybody-”
“Whoa, Char, slow down!” He chuckles, reaching across the space between their seats to clasp her hand. “I’m not opposed to the rest of your little friends coming to visit sometime too! But I was really hoping for a little one on one time with this one here.” He shoots you a wink across the Radio Demon’s lap. “Whaddya think?”
Husk notices before you do, a muttered “ah, fuck” before surreptitiously shifting himself slightly in front of Angel Dust, who poked his head up over the feline’s shoulder to watch anyway. 
Actually, everyone notices before you do, even the oblivious King. There’s a whining feedback noise that permeates the air, Vaggie and Charlie are settled back into their seats, and Lucifer is staring in horror at Alastor, who, when you actually turn to look at him, is staring at Lucifer like he means to dismember him. His claws are dug into the fabric of his pants, his smile sharp and dangerous , occult symbols hovering in the air around him.
You feel like you should speak before Alastor does something stupid like trying to murder the king. “I-”
Just like that the moment has ended- the feedback stops, the lights return to normal, occult symbols disappearing in a wisp of smoke. Alastor stands in a fluid movement, turning on his heel and bending at the waist to get eye level with Lucifer. “What a delightful offer. I’m afraid I will be in need of our darling inhabitant’s help at that time.” His smile is tense, words forced between them.
Not one to be put off by a razor tipped grin, Lucifer grimaces at Alastor. “We haven’t even set a date yet!”
“A shame, truly.” He straightens up, holds a hand out to you that you don’t even think about not taking. “I’m afraid we have much to discuss before any other plans are made, dear.”
“There have been no plans made!”
“Farewell, everyone!” He pulls you to stand beside him and with a swirl of darkness you’ve vanished, rematerializing in his bedroom. He crowds you against the door, tall body caging yours with arms on either side of your head and leaning into the space between your shoulder and neck. “You need to choose what you want from our deal,” he murmurs, his lips brushing the sensitive skin there. “You’ve been putting it off for whatever silly reason you have, and I demand that it ends. Pick something.”
You close your eyes against the sensation of him and feel the hammering of his heart where he’s pressed against you. “It’s not- not time for your rut,” you say. “Why are you bringing this up now?”
“The rut be damned. If your half of the deal is unfulfilled, if I can’t give you something that you want, then the deal is void.” He nearly snarls the words into your shoulder, the frustration apparent in his words. “You can decide to end this at any time and I can do nothing about it.”
Your hands come up to his chest, meaning to push him back, but you pause. “Alastor-”
“I have no power over this deal until your benefit is claimed. Should you have decided to entertain that kingly oaf I would have to sit idly by knowing that you are in his domain instead of mine, where you belong.”
“I didn’t know that,” you tell him, and then your brain catches up with what he’s said. “And what do you mean, ‘where I belong?’ This was just meant to be- you know, your ruts. I wouldn’t just fuck off and leave you messed up if you can’t accept anyone else but I didn’t think you wanted anything more than that.”
“I didn’t.” Alastor hisses the word into your skin, like it’s your fault you’re in this situation. “I was content to simply let these cursed ruts run through with your assistance with none of the pesky interference that feelings would bring. But you’re just so… good.” He laughs and the sound seems painful to him, vibrating against you. “You’ve thrown yourself into it with such gusto and enthusiasm, you offer me no complaints, you indulge my every whim even when we aren’t isolated from the world together, and you aren’t even getting anything out of it.”
Everything clicks into place- for you, at least. His actions towards you, his behavior towards Lucifer this evening, how possessive he’s been during the ruts and between them. Something had changed over the course of your deal; he wanted it set in stone to tie you to him, to make sure that you wouldn’t end your arrangement and run off with someone like Lucifer. To make sure you wouldn’t leave him, that you were bound to him and the deal you had made.
It should have been alarming. It wasn’t- the knowledge that he craved more, as you did, made a pulse of heat run through your body. 
“Okay,” you agree. “I see the problem, I understand- and I know what I want.” He raises his head from your shoulder finally, eyes narrowed at how agreeable you seem to be and his grin tense. You give him a sweet smile. “A kiss.”
Alastor says nothing, watching you with his suspicious gaze before he takes a deep breath. “You’ll waste the benefit of such a deal on a mere kiss? Don’t joke with me-”
“Who’s joking? I would ask for nothing if I thought you would let me. If this is what will give you the reassurance that I don’t plan on going anywhere then I’ll give it to you.” You let your eyes trail down his chest, lower your voice to a whisper. “Don’t forget to ask me where I would like my kiss to be.”
His breath catches in his throat and his gaze goes dark, raking down your frame like his claws have done so many times. “Do you know how many sinners in the hordes of Hell would have taken the opportunity to bring me to my knees with the deal that I offered you?” He brings an arm down from its position bracketing you to trail his fingers along your neck, over your breast, down your side and rest possessively on your hip. “Is that what you would ask of me as well?”
“Only temporarily.”
He chuckles low, the sound rumbling in his chest. “As you wish,” he says, and in a flash of movement he is sinking before you to his knees, hands running carefully over your body as he descends. He hooks his fingers in the top of your skirt, drags it to the floor along with your panties and then wraps a hand around your calf to prop your leg over his shoulder, bringing the heat of your wetness closer to his mouth. 
He rests his head against your thigh, hooded gaze moving from your desperately slick folds to your face, blushing and nervous despite having asked for exactly this. You had done this before, splayed in his bed with his face buried between your legs, but the angle was different- he could still see you, he wasn’t lost in the throes of his rut and mindless in his hunger for you. What if he didn’t like it when he wasn’t at the mercy of his instincts? What if he-
Alastor’s tongue, long and deft, comes out of his mouth to lick at the skin of your thigh, making you jolt and look back down, not realizing that your gaze had drifted. “You’d best pay attention, darling,” he mutters. “I might take offense should your attention wander.” 
Then he’s angling himself, slotting his mouth against you, and you would make a thousand ill-advised deals to feel this forever. His tongue slips in easily with the arousal that drips from you, the strong line of his nose brushing against your clit with every subtle shift of his head to get deeper, taste more. He pulls back enough to press a finger into you gently, sucks at the nub of your clit before sliding his tongue back into you beside his finger. The movement makes you moan, hands finally coming away from where they’ve been scrambling against the wood of the door to twist between the locks of his hair.
Accustomed to what he likes during his ruts, you run a finger up the tines of his antlers and he groans into you, low and sinful and fucking perfect. “ You,” he mumbles against you, between kisses to your slick lips and presses of his tongue to your sensitive spot, “will simply be the death of me. Look at me.”
You hadn’t realized your eyes had closed again, and they fly open; the sight that greets you threatens to be your undoing. His eyes are glazed where he watches you, antlers having branched out beyond his ears, tongue pressed flush to your slick folds. His free hand comes up to lift your other leg onto his unoccupied shoulder, the motion putting you into an awkward lean against the door as he drags you closer to his hungry mouth.
“Wait- Alastor-” You try to use your grip on his antlers to pull him away to reposition but only succeed in making him grip your thigh tighter with the hand that doesn’t have fingers inside you- with the position change he’s added another, tongue still twisting dexterously alongside.
You start to move from the door and you panic a moment, thinking you’re falling, before there’s a firm pressure at your back and hands coming to rest in your hips. When you turn your head to look you’re greeted with the dark wisp of Alastor’s shadow, glowing grin unaffected by the words that follow your sharp intake of breath. “No need to fear, darling,” says Alastor’s voice from the shadow. “It’s merely here to keep you steady.”
You let your head fall back onto the shadow’s shoulder as Alastor continues to take you apart, hands fisted in his hair and on the base of his antlers, thumb gently stroking when you can manage the mental capacity necessary to not just be at his mercy. A particularly harsh suck to your clit has your legs clenching around his head, inner walls spasming on his fingers and tongue as he pulls you towards the edge of orgasm. “Fuck, Alastor-”
The moan that responds comes from the shadow but vibrates through your body starting between your legs. “Let me hear you, my dear,” comes his hot whisper next to your ear. “We don't often focus on you like this, do we? Just that one time during my rut. An egregious error- one I mean to rectify immediately.”
He angles your hips again, pulls his tongue from the clench of your body to focus on your bundle of nerves. “To have you during my periods of need is no longer enough- I wish to have you beneath me, around me, always. The thought of losing you to that regal imbecile drives me to madness that claws at my very soul. I’ll have to be sure to lay my claim in a way that is… indisputable.” His voice rasps next to your ear, the shadow a perfect transmitter of his thoughts and words while his mouth is occupied.
“Alastor-” You mean to warn him of your impending release, the coil of tension that threatens to snap with the briefest of pressure. “Please, I need-”
“Go on, dearest,” his shadow purrs while his tongue circles your clit in hard, fast swipes. “Come in my mouth, show me how beautiful you are in your pleasure-”
Your body shakes in the hold of Alastor and his shadow, voice leaving you in a strangled cry as you obey, your release making your entire body tensing wherever it can- your hands in Alastor’s hair, legs around his head, cunt around his fingers. He licks you gently through it before he pulls back slowly, expression satisfied looking up at you before he lowers your legs to the ground, standing and making sure he has a solid hold on you when his shadow vanishes. “How are your legs, darling, can you stand?” He walks you over to the bed and lays you on the mattress, an admiring glance cast across your frame. “I’ll never grow tired of seeing you splayed across my sheets.”
“I’ll never be tired of being splayed across them; looks like our interests align, how handy is that?” He meets your smile with his customary one, and you hold a hand out to him and pull him closer, quickly working the buttons of his shirt and letting him slide the garment off his body. “Do you know why I agreed to the deal with you?” You wait for his bemused nod before you undo the button of his trousers. “It wasn’t anything to do with your power or what you could offer me in return. Or even the orgasms, as wonderful as they’ve been. So do you know why?”
“I’m sure you’ll enlighten me,” he murmurs as you shimmy his pants down his legs, hissing when you drag his undergarments down as well and his erection springs free. 
“I said yes,” you say, pulling him down so he kneels on the edge of the bed, “because I wanted a chance to be closer to you. That’s what I’ve been getting the whole time- I didn’t need anything else. Though the kiss was great,” you say with a wink, wrapping a hand around him and guiding the head of him into your slick heat.
“Fuck-” Alastor cuts himself off with a hiss as he sinks into you, fucking into your pliant body and grinding down when he’s sunk to the hilt. “Delightful woman- you always surprise me. So wet and tight around my cock every time you take me. So lovely and perfect, my-” He stops himself, burying his face in the space between your neck and shoulder, his favorite place to be. 
“Your mate,” you encourage him. “I will be- if you’ll have me. Even without the deal- ahh, fuck -” You interrupt yourself with a moan when he angles his hips, hitting the sweet spot inside your body. “I’m not going anywhere- I would have helped you regardless of the deal, regardless of the favor you asked of me.” You rock your hips up into him, let him reach further inside. “Whatever you will give me I’ll take, Alastor. Let me be yours- always. That’s what I want.”
“It’s yours,” he groans, “I would give you anything , darling. Anything.” He fucks himself into you harder, growling into your skin. “Let me give it to you.”
“Please,” you beg him, your second release a hair trigger away. “Fuck, Alastor please- I’m yours, your mate, please-”
“You’re mine, fucking- mine, always, fuck-” He spends himself with a snarl in the tight heat of your body and you follow shortly behind, a cry of Alastor’s name on your lips as you let yourself fall apart in his embrace. His teeth pierce the skin of your neck where they always do- and really, you should ask him about that, find out if it's a cannibal thing or a deer thing so you can decide if you’re less okay with it, even as hot as it is.
The only sounds for a bit are harsh exhales as you both try to catch your breath, tracing your fingers up and down the exposed skin of his back, pausing every now and then when you come across a scar. “This was… different,” he says quietly. “From the times during the rut, I mean. The ache, the need for you still burning but not through every fiber of my being in a way that cannot be ignored. I feel more in control of myself with you now, without it.”
“Which you like?”
“Very much so. My ruts are enjoyable with you, darling, but the feeling of being so lost in my baser instincts can be overwhelming at times.” He pulls back from your shoulder to watch your face as he speaks. “You being so accommodating to it helped and of course I don’t wish to stop, but I do believe I prefer us like this.”
“I do too. Speaking of baser instincts though, are you going to turn into some jealous beast again if I want to visit Lucifer’s library with everyone else?”
He heaves a deep sigh. “I suppose despite his obvious interest in what belongs to me I won’t stop you. A proper chaperone should get the message across to his royal idiocy, as should my mark on your neck.” He brings a hand up to run his fingers over the pulsing bite he’s left, and you shiver at the feeling.
“You should really be nicer to him.” You tilt your head up to press against his chest and listen to the steady thumping of his heart. “I have no interest in the King of Hell; you demand enough of my time.”
“As it should be- I did tell you I would take offense if your attention wandered.” Silence again for a few minutes until the demon atop you speaks, his voice rumbling pleasantly where he’s pressed against you. “You know, I can feel in our bond that the ‘kiss’ you requested doesn't count for our deal” When you shoot him a confused look he rubs his thumb against your hip bone. “I do believe it needs to be something tangible, as much fun as we had. Have you any other ideas?”
You sigh. “Dammit. Okay, just- something small then. I really don’t need anything else out of this.” You think for a moment, still tracing the scars on his back when an idea comes to you. “What about something like a bracelet? Or a ring or something- a piece of jewelry I can wear that will alert me if you’re hurt somehow.”
Alastor turns his head to watch you with a raised eyebrow. “What would you want with such a thing?”
“The whole point of this deal was to make sure that you were in peak, ‘not-sexually-frustrated’ form to take on the Vees, right? And that hasn’t happened yet so when it does I want to make sure you’re safe,” you tell him, and he hides his face in your neck again. “I meant it, Alastor- I care about you, I want to know that you’re okay. Always. That’s what a good mate does, right? I brushed up on my ‘deer mating habits’ knowledge.”
You can feel his smile. “Yes, I suppose that is true. Consider it done- for real this time.” He snaps his fingers and with a pulse of green magic there’s a silver band on your right pinky finger, an etched design that looks like Alastor’s antlers on them. “Should I ever find myself in danger or injured, the ring will alert you. I’m not sure what you expect to be able to do with that but regardless- our deal is officially set.”
You admire it for a few moments before humming an affirmative and letting your arm wrap back around him, fingers resuming their journey across the expanse of his back muscles.
“This deal could span decades,” Alastor finally mumbles into your neck, pressing a gentle kiss there. “You truly think that your feelings on the matter- your feelings about me- won’t change in that time?”
You sigh into his chest, allowing him to maneuver the two of you so you lay in the bed normally. “They won’t. And even if they did, the deal is done- I collected on my benefit,” you say in a sing-song tone, with a wink and a wave of your ringed hand. “You’re stuck with me now.”
“Yes, well. I’m sure that’s nothing I can’t handle,” he says, tightening his grip around your waist, and you muffle your laughter into his chest, having finally gotten what you wanted all along.
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chasthewriter · 1 day
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Alright everyone
Open up
Gotta keep you all fed until chapter 12.
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Reader and Mr.Puzzles content
Eat up
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my-castles-crumbling · 22 hours
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Okay, when someone, someday, inevitably checks my search history, I would like that person to know that "men in lace lingerie" was for a fic 👀.
As was "ways to describe torture."
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maxbruiser · 1 day
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Can you guess what kind it is huh huh huh can ya can ya can ya—
catch my Ḓ̸̮͠R̶̡̛̲͎̬̭̫̓́̓I̶̹̫̒͒F̵̯̹̭̪̊́̽̄̈́͋T̸͔̯͂̑͆̄̏͝
I’m hopping on the boat and joining the wave.
isle leave this here…
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blonndiec · 3 days
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*laughs because it's a joke, but then someone comments on your fanfiction and it's the best day of your life*
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yaoigoddess9158 · 3 days
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HELP AHRJDJAHDHJAJDJUAH I CANT IM DYING
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I don’t even know what to say…. 😭
(https://archiveofourown.org/works/41436189/chapters/103912542)
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riri-twix · 1 day
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Can We Become We?
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Chapter 3: So Much, Yet So Little
Summary: Satoru, Suguru, and you are forced into a marriage by your families for economic reasons. Satoru who doesn’t know what it’s like to love or be loved. Suguru who believes he is undeserving of anyone’s love. And you who didn’t want to love in the first place.
The three of you agree to stay out of each other’s business, and save the relationship acts only for the elders who imposed this on you. But what happens when feelings for each other start to develop?
She/her pronouns for reader | use of y/n | no smut in in this chapter
You can also read it on ao3 here
When everything was finally over, it was way past midnight. A majority of the guests had already filed out of the building, while the remaining few were gathered in small clusters, quietly chatting among themselves – the elders probably.
The whole wedding passed by in a whirlwind of activity, a blur of colour and sound that your mind couldn't quite grasp. The whole time, it was difficult to ignore the unfamiliar light weight around your ring finger.
All you could really focus on was maintaining that smile on your face, feeling the ache in your jaw from keeping it there for so long. It almost felt like your face was going to get stuck like that.
The night breeze was cool on your skin as you exited the wedding hall, grateful to breathe in some fresh air. You could finally drop the fake smile. Satoru and Suguru had moved to the side, each of them standing in front of their respective parents as goodbyes were being said.
Your father steps forward and takes your hand, looking you directly in the eye. “I know this wasn't what you wanted, but you need to be strong.” He says gently, his voice laced with a mix of concern.
You just nod, pulling your hand out of his grasp.
“It’s getting late, we’ll let you go.” Your mother smiles softly. "We’ll miss you so much. But please come visit us soon, alright?”
“Yeah, of course.” You try to keep your voice neutral, but you can't help but feel a little resentment towards your parents.
You knew that if you expressed your true feelings, it would only lead to more drama and stress, and you were tired of the fighting. Instead, you simply offer a tight-lipped smile and mutter a quick goodbye.
You turn around, without giving them a hug. Nothing felt real, as if it was all just some kind of dream.
A gleaming, white limousine was waiting for you, Satoru, and Suguru. The sleek car stood out against the darkness.
You’ve never been inside a limo before. You always thought that if you were going to get the chance one day, it would be so much fun, to feel like a literal celebrity. But all you felt like was a robot on autopilot.
The chauffeur, a stout, middle-aged man in a dark suit, opened the rear door for you. He offered you a polite smile and ushered you inside. The smell of freshly cleaned leather and pine air fresheners welcomed you into its embrace, as you sink back into the plush seat.
After you, Suguru enters the limo. You exchange a brief glance with him as he gets in, but neither of you says anything. Satoru follows suit, before the chauffeur closes the door. Soon, the car pulls away from the curb, silently and smoothly, like a ghost on wheels.
Between the three of you, no one speaks. And it stays like that for a while. You don’t really care though, not with the way your cheeks were hurting. Talking was the last thing on your mind right now.
You're tired, you're emotional, and above all, you're done. You’re so done with everything.
You lean your head against the window, letting out a deep, exasperated sigh as your muscles finally release the tension they've been carrying. The cool glass feels soothing against your skin. You close your eyes, focusing on breathing.
Tap tap
You frown, shrugging away the light poking on your shoulder.
Tap tap tap
“What?” You murmur groggily, not quite ready to open your eyes.
“Y/n?” That was Suguru, his voice soft but insistent. “We’re here.”
Your eyes flutter open into a squint, vision unfocused as you lift your head up from the glass. Wait what? Did you fall asleep?
“Oh.” You mumbled, trying to shake off the exhaustion that still clings to you. “I fell asleep.”
“It's okay.” Suguru says again, his tone comforting in its familiarity. For a brief second, you’re grateful that he’s being nice.
Satoru rolls down his window as a rather polite looking man with short, black hair and glasses walks up to the limo.
The man bows respectfully, arms by his sides, before straightening up again. “Sir.” He says his voice barely more than a whisper.
“Stop calling me that, Ijichi.” Satoru extends his hand out of the window, his face stoic and expressionless. “Just call me Satoru.”
Ijichi, who had been standing at attention, relaxes slightly at Satoru's words. The man produces a small set of keys from his pocket and places them in Satoru's waiting palm, before Satoru wraps his fingers around them.
Ijichi’s voice takes on a shy, almost meek tone. “You know I can't do that, sir.” He replied, a light blush growing more visible on his cheeks. “Just call me if you need anything, sir.” Satoru nods dismissively at that, and he stepped aside.
The driver takes off again, the car's wheels roll along the quiet residential road, until it eventually slows to a stop.
You blink and suddenly the fatigue of the night's events disappears. The house is not too big, no where near the grandiose of the Gojo estate, but it definitely wasn’t small either.
Satoru is quick to spring into action. Without wasting a second, he thrusts open the car door and leaps out, his movements swift and fluid. It’s fascinating, how a man with such long limbs has such precise mobility.
Suguru stays seated next to you, his eyes glued to the house in front of him. Was he overwhelmed by all of this? Should you comfort him?
Hesitating, you push the silent question away, and instead reach out to open the door. But before you can even touch the handle, the door is suddenly opened by the chauffeur.
A wave of irritation suddenly washes over you.
You suppress a frustrated huff and step down onto the pavement. You know he was just doing his job and all, but for some reason, you wanted to open the door by yourself. Annoyed, you pull at the hem of your dress with one hand to make sure it doesn't get dirty.
Satoru had already reached the wide front porch, slipping the key into the door’s lock. As you make your way to him, you notice the familiar silhouette of your car parked in the driveway of the house, beside one other. Someone must’ve dropped it off here.
Satoru had moved to the side, letting you and Suguru step through the threshold and onto the small foyer, before shutting the door. The automatic lock clicks, and the reality of everything hits you like a ton of bricks.
The atmosphere immediately shifts to something tense and awkward. You shift your weight from one foot to the other, not really sure of your place in this situation. What do you do know? Can you just walk in or…?
When Suguru decides to speak up, you felt like you could breathe again. “We need to sit down and discuss this.” His voice is calm and measured, as if he knows exactly what to do in a situation like this.
Satoru, on the other hand, looks like he’s had enough of the playing nice and pretending they’re all happy when they’re not. He shakes his head, a mixture of frustration and annoyance evident on his face.
“Discuss what exactly?” Satoru says, his voice sharp.
“This.” Suguru’s eyes narrow. “All of this.” He gestured broadly at the room and everything it contains. “And us.”
His bun, which was normally full and round, was now sagging lower on his head, weighing down from the strain of the long day. And yet, even with his hair less than perfect, it didn’t make him look any less stunning.
Satoru's lip curls into a sneer. “There is no us.” He spits, cold and biting. “There is just you, and you, and me.” He pointed at Suguru, then you, then at himself. “I said to stay out of each other’s business.”
Suguru's hand runs down his face, his eyes closing as he takes a deep, calming breath. I know that, and I said I agree with it.” Don’t groan. “But it's not that simple.” He opens his eyes, looking directly at Satoru. "We have to sit down and list everything, talk and work something out."
Your eyes dart back and forth between them, lips sealed tight to avoid adding any more fuel to the fire.
Satoru doesn’t nothing for a moment, as if he was thinking. Then his whole demeanour changes. “You wanna sit down and talk?” He scoffs, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Fine then.”
He turns on his heel, walking down the hallway, the sound of his footsteps echoes through the empty house. You and Suguru have no choice but to follow.
You take your seats on the couches, facing each other, the air heavy with unease. Satoru crosses his arms, a sneer on his face as he nods with his chin. “Go on, curtain bangs.” He snarls, his tone thick with contempt. “Talk all you want.”
Suguru feels a pulse throb on the side of his temple. Satoru’s attitude was really starting to piss him off. But he breathes. Control yourself. “Okay, so first things first. Are we all getting our own private space?”
Satoru’s expression remains stoic and cold, but you can see a slight edge to his voice as he responds. “If this is about bedrooms, then yes.” Blunt and to the point. “There are plenty of rooms to go around. Pick whatever.”
As the words sink, something in your heart settles.
You’ve heard that, generally, most people have sex on their wedding night. And you can’t deny the fact that, while the thought had been looming in the back of your mind the whole day, you kept telling yourself that nothing would happen. Because in the end Satoru and Suguru were forced into this too.
You were more than reassured now.
“Okay.” Suguru nods. “Now, what about everything in the house.”
“What about it?” Satoru raises his perfect, white eyebrow at Suguru, and your heart skipped a beat.
“It is yours after all. We’re basically living here as guests, are we not?”
Okay, Suguru’s point makes sense. Satoru didn’t choose for you to live here with him, it was an obligation. It’s only fair if he sets the rules.
Satoru's response is as cold as ever. He shrugs, as if to say he doesn’t give a shit. “Just don’t come into my room.” His voice was devoid of emotion. “And keep your business in your own rooms.”
You look at him in confusion, trying to understand what he meant by that. “Business?” Your eyebrows furrow.
But he only scoffs. “What? You think I’m stupid or something?” He sneers at you both, every word coming out of his mouth was bitter. “Don’t act like you’re not gonna be screwing around.”
Well that felt like a personal slap to your face. “The fuck is that supposed to mean?” You scowled. Was he seriously accusing you of bringing random people to fuck with? As if it was that easy? You couldn’t even rizz yourself up in front of a mirror let alone a whole other person!
“Pretty sure it was self explanatory.” Satoru rolls his eyes. “But like I said, I don’t care. This,” He takes his ring off his finger. “Means nothing to me. Do whatever the fuck you want.” As if to drive the point home, he tosses it on the coffee table.
The room is silent for a moment before Suguru speaks up, his voice firm and steady. “Okay. Well, it’s settled then.” He picks up the ring and puts it back into Satoru's palm, curling his finger over it. “We’ll stay out of your room, and we should be fine.”
“Whatever.” Satoru stands up and walks away, leaving the two of you behind.
He didn’t want anything do with you, or anyone. Everyone was the same anyway. Just greedy slobs who only cared about what they could get from him. It wasn't just a feeling he came up with overnight, it was something he knew from experience, having been used and hurt in the past by people he had let close to him.
He’s let himself open his heart before. He let himself touch and be touched. Only for the person who ‘loved’ him only act that way for his father’s money. After they got what they wanted, they had spilled the news that they never actually loved him.
The very next day, he saw them share a post with their partner, showing off their newest car. The car he had bought as a gift.
It was just one person, he tried to tell himself. He needed to have hope.
He waited some time before opening up again. This time, the one who proclaimed love lasted longer than his previous one. He was staring to believe that their promise of forever might be real.
Until they asked for a huge amount of money for their project overseas. Satoru wouldn’t say no to someone he loves right? Except, they to left him right after their project succeeded.
Satoru realised that he would only be a fool to believe anyone ever again. No one was ever going to love him. Just his money and his father’s money. There was no point in anything. He couldn’t care less about you and Suguru.
But despite all this, there's a part of him that's still searching for connection and love. He's afraid of getting hurt again, but he's also lonely and longing for something real.
The soft pillow cradles your head as you stare up at the ceiling. You don’t know how long you’ve been awake. There was only the rise and fall of your chest. The bed you were on is so soft, so comfy. One would think you’d have blacked out the moment you touched it, considering how tired you were. But you couldn’t.
Your eyes were sore. You sigh and roll over, trying to force your eyes closed, but it's no use. Your mind wouldn’t switch off.
Suddenly you hear it. The soft, mournful notes of a violin fill the air, piercing through the silence of the night. (Violin playing)
At first, you're not sure if it's real or just a part of your sleep-deprived imagination. But as the music continues to play, the sound becomes more distinct, and you realise that it's coming from somewhere outside.
You make your way to the window, eyes straining in the dark as you search for the source. Then you see him. Satoru. He wasn’t asleep either? You slide the window open.
The night air was cool, but Satoru seemed to hardly notice the chill. He stood still on the back porch, with nothing but the moonlight illuminating his figure with a silver lining. The white hair on his head seemed to shimmer in the dim light.
He held his violin under his chin, the bow in his other hand, moving effortlessly across the strings as he played a melancholic melody. It was a hauntingly beautiful sound that seemed to echo through the night, filling the air with a sense of loneliness and longing.
He looks otherworldly.
Suddenly, weariness takes hold of you, wrapping a comforting blanket over your body. You feel your shoulders relax, your limbs growing heavy. You sink into the comfort of your bed once more. Your eyes drifted to a gentle close, listening as the sounds float in through your window.
Meanwhile, Suguru wasn’t sure if he’d be able to sleep at all.
On one hand, the bed is incredibly soft, and he's grateful to have a place to rest. On the other hand, he feels like he doesn't deserve it. He's used to sleeping on much stiffer, less comfortable mattresses, and the idea of sleeping on anything this heavenly? It feels almost wrong.
He couldn't shake off the thought that he should sleep on the floor or something. He didn't deserve to be given this kind of thing, to be surrounded by all this. It was a feeling of guilt and inadequacy, that he wasn't good enough.
Slowly, Satoru's violin fills the house with a sweet, muffled song. Suguru sits on his bed, leaning his head back against the headboard. His eyes close, and his expression falls into one of complete relaxation.
A small smile plays at the corners of his lips, and he hums along with the tune, lost in the rhythm. The sweet song washes away the thoughts plaguing his mind, helping him to find a sense of peace.
He was so tired. Maybe he could fall asleep after all.
chapter1, chapter2, chapter3, chapter4 (coming soon)
taglist: @keira80808
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amethystfairy1 · 2 days
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"Why did I say that!? Why did I say that!?" - Tango, probably
It's Zedango time!!! I'm very excited for this fic, I'm really really happy it, so please do check it out!
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aurae-rori · 9 hours
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“A HEART, EMBARK, A BEAUTIFUL STAR”
— aventio csm au but no prior knowledge of csm is needed. if you dont know csm then think of this of unwilling roommates and colleagues au but they kill shit too
— fiend ratio & devil hunter aventurine
— featuring mental illness and my lack of will to live
— rip kishibe you would've loved aventurine. thanks for hyping me up guys
— multichap, 1/10 and curretly 5.9k words
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+ art of fiend ratio by @j11nko !!
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feelingthedisaster · 2 days
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something that annoys me a lot in fanfiction as an aromantic is when people dont tag important platonic/familial relationships but tag random romantic stuff
i remember this fic in which there were platonic relationships that were almost as important as the main romantic ship, yet they werent tagged. but a romantic relationship that didnt even had a full scene was tagged.
there are millions of fics that do this. why only tagging romantic stuff? you have non romantic relationships in your fic that are just as important. tagging them would actually help the fic to get more readers (the ones looking for fics with gen relationships) but no, the romantic couple that had ¼ of chapter (of a multichapter fic) was a more relevant tag. wonder why
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cherryt00 · 2 days
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SIRIUS ORION BLACK.
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macabr3-barbi3 · 2 days
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Alastor/sheep!Reader- Red Riding Hood (Ao3 Request)
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I had so much fun with this! And I'm thinking about doing a little mini-series of retellings of fairy tales because of this so 👀
Tags: chase; outside sex; rough sex; predator/prey for like 3 paragraphs; reader is kind of a little shit
2.6k words
<3<3<3<3<3
The woods are dark and dense, and you curse yourself again for agreeing to undertake this journey for your new manager.
“It gets cold!” She had whined, gesturing to the hairless skin of her Sphynx cat form. “ I could freeze, and its really important that this delivery gets picked up tonight! You’re such a great friend,” she had gushed when you caved and agreed to make the trip for her, to the outermost edges of the Pride ring. Why couldn’t she have just air-shipped the package? “The customer doesn’t like modern technology.”  Why not have him come get it? “He isn’t really a people person, I don’t want to scare anyone off.”
An idiot is what you were- an idiot that was new to Hell and didn’t have many other options for jobs. You were sweltering under the stupid red cloak that she had given you, swearing up and down that the forest you’d be going through got chilly at night and insisting that you take it with you; the only plus to the damned thing was that it had a pocket into which you could slip the delivery parcel. Even though you weren’t technically properly trained for deliveries yet, the thick wool that coated the lush curves of your sheep-like body apparently made you the perfect candidate for the trip through the ‘cold’ woods. 
“Bullshit,” you mutter, throwing the hood of the damned thing back and letting the soft breeze whip past your ears. The trees seem to whistle their displeasure at your presence, your hair swirling around your face as you head in the general direction that the app on your phone directed you. 
There’s a sudden growl in the air, and you freeze where you stand. It almost rumbles the ground beneath your feet, and glancing over your shoulder you see a hint of crimson eyes staring from the darkness.
Fuck that. You take off without any further inspection of the glowing gaze, tossing your phone into the cloak pocket as you run- you don’t need to know what it is if it's going to try to hurt you somehow, and you don’t give a damn about the delivery being on time if it means risking your life. Why wouldn’t your manager have told you there was dangerous shit out here? You get that it’s Hell but for fuck’s sake.
Your lungs are aching as you continue on, not willing to slow or stop while you can still hear the crashing of tree branches and snarling behind you, right at your heels. There’s a hand on the hood of your cloak then, pulling you backwards, and without thinking you slam your head back, horns miraculously hitting home right in the creature’s face. It releases you with a pained groan and you don’t look back, booking it as fast as you can in a different direction, stitch in your side growing more and more painful with every step.
The woods are silent as you finally slow and stop, bracing your back against a tree and trying to catch your heaving breath. Your whole body is on fire, physical exertion having never been your strong suit, but you’re still alive and that’s what matters- body aches will heal, but you heard that regeneration was a bitch.
“Are you chilly, darling?”
The unexpected voice makes you whip around, cloak whirling as you turn. “Fuck!” Your heart is still beating like a drum, hard hammering against your chest from the run before you had stopped to rest. 
The demon casually leaning against a nearby tree watches you with a wide grin, a trickle of blood from his lips where your horns had slammed into him. His eyes, red and lidded, flick up and down your body. “It’s quite rude to leave a question unanswered.”
“It’s also quite rude to sneak up on people. Was that you chasing me?”
“Why, I’m just making sure that you are heading in the right direction! The number of people that have gotten lost on their way to me is truly a nuisance.” He eyes the shape of the package in your cloak pocket. “I’m pleased to see that this one hasn’t been lost to the forest yet.” He steps closer, holds a hand out to you. “Come along now, dear.”
“R-right. Can you confirm the name on the package?”
A wide grin, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Alastor.”
It matches the name on the package which is good enough for you. “Okay, great. Here you go.” You pull the box from your pocket and hold it out to him. “That’s all this needed to be.”
He cocks his head to one side. “Surely you won’t be leaving so soon.”
“I’m just here to make the delivery, sir.” Your hands are trembling with leftover adrenaline as he takes the parcel, inspects it for a moment, then unceremoniously tosses it over his shoulder into the darkness.
“Your work ethic is to be admired!” He exclaims, ignoring your outraged expression. “But there seems to be confusion- you are the delivery, darling.” When you stiffen at his words he chuckles and creeps closer, circling you like a predator. “Let me guess- you’re new to the shop, you aren’t trained for deliveries, and the manager had compelling reasons for why you should come instead of herself?”
“I-”
“We have an understanding, you see.” He trails a finger down the cloak hanging over your arm. “Retail is a hard business in Hell- no one wants to stick around, people are hard to train, they never last long anyway. Your manager has had to run several of my packages herself and the last one was, sadly, lost to the elements by her own fault.” He looks off into the distance, seemingly irritated at the memory. “What could have possessed her to attempt to cross a river with a priceless antique electronic is beyond me but here we are. I would have simply killed her but she has connections I can use to my advantage so we made a deal instead.” He looks back to you, head cocked to one side as he smiles. “An easy meal as compensation for her transgression. Delivered right to me.” His eyes darken, raking over your form, the curves of your body. “I hadn’t expected her to act so quickly but it’s been some time since I last had mutton.”
“I won’t taste good,” you tell him calmly despite the lingering fear from the chase, and an eyebrow raises in amusement. “When I was alive my mom always said I was rotten, I’m sure that doesn’t translate well to my demon form. And then you’ll have wasted your deal on bad meat.” You keep your voice steady while you address him.
“Oh?” He circles you and you can feel his gaze running over your body again. “I’m not so sure about that, dear- I’ve never found any complaints with meat of any kind. I’m sure you’ll be quite tasty.” He smiles when he comes around the front again, the sharp teeth glinting in the light that filters through the trees.
And fuck, the way he said that shouldn’t have been kind of hot. This was a serious situation, definitely not the time to be thinking vaguely inappropriate thoughts about the demon who was quite blatantly threatening to eat you. “Do you want to risk it?” You ask, and his smile turns curious. “I mean, I’d hate to have to tell you ‘I told you so’ but I would do it. The shop has new people like me coming in every week for training that you could have your pick of instead of taking the first thing to come along; what if you missed out on something really delicious?” 
Alastor watches you carefully. “I suppose you have a point, darling,” he concedes, his slim shoulders shrugging. “A meal that talks back so much would surely be a poor one. Though I can’t say I’m not disappointed that I won’t get a chance to sample you.” His voice seems to drop, a rolling purr in the strange radio cadence he has that makes your hair stand on end and your heart thump in your chest.
“Maybe I could let you have a taste?” The words leave your mouth before you can stop them, the air between the two of you suddenly charged with tension. “Just, you know. Show you what I mean, that I won’t be any good. Rotten and all that, like my mom says.”
“On the contrary, I think you’ll be very good.” He steps closer to you, towers over your frame with hooded eyes that track the movement of your throat as you swallow. “But I’ll behave myself since you’ve shown me the error of my ways- a mere sampling of your flavor, nothing more. I suppose there is more that I could get out of your manager if I don’t ‘cash in’ right away, as it were.” He brings a claw tipped hand to cup your face, tilting your head one way then the other. “We’ll start here,” he murmurs, and you close your eyes, wait for the brush of his lips against yours.
It doesn’t come- instead you feel him lick along the column of your neck, the muscle hot and wet where it drags against your skin, a shuddering exhale leaving you at the feeling. One hand comes up to rest on your waist, the other unclipping the clasp of the red cloak you wear and letting it fall to the ground. You shiver without it, not from the cold but from the sensations raging through your body at such a simple touch, and Alastor pulls back, licking his lips at the taste of you.
“My disappointment at agreeing to let you go is immeasurable,” he whispers, pupils blown when he meets your eyes. “It’s just as I suspected- delicious.” The hand that released the cloak winds itself into your hair, brushing against the base of your horns. “Would you indulge me in another taste?”
You nod, not trusting your voice to come out clearly, and he swipes along your neck again, allowing his teeth to press gently against your pulse point before he continues down, snaking the hot appendage between the valley of your breasts and holding you tighter to his body. There’s still adrenaline coursing through your body making each touch feel like an electric pulse to your core, and when he growls into your chest you let out a quiet moan that echoes in the quiet woods.
One hand still tangled in your hair, thumb gently brushing against your horns, he slips his free hand under the waistband of your skirt and into your panties, inhaling sharply at the wetness he finds. Claws absent, he slides a finger inside of you, the press of it slow and steady, making you rock your hips into his hand.
“Someone’s eager, hm?” He presses another digit into the slickness of your cunt, bends his fingers in a way that his you seeing stars as he thrusts them in and out of your heat. You let out a soft cry against him and cling to his shirt, up on your tiptoes to let his fingers reach wherever he wants.
“More,” you whimper, letting one of your hands reach up to his face, a move that surprises him. “Please, Alastor.”
He brings his face up from your skin and devours your mouth, his tongue showing just as much attention to your mouth as he had your neck, licking into it with fervor and enthusiasm you wouldn’t have expected from him. “Would you let me have you, darling? This is hardly an appropriate place, but-”
“Yes,” you tell him, not even letting him finish his sentence, and he gently lowers you to the ground to lay across the expanse of the red cloak. He makes short work of his trousers, shoving your skirt up around your waist and slicing your panties off with a quick swipe of his fingers before he fists his cock and slots himself against you. “Oh fuck-” He impales you with a hard thrust, sinking in to the base with a harsh grip on your hips.
“Lovely,” he groans into your ear, and then he seems to lose the capability for language, his words devolving into harsh grunts and growls as he fills you over and over, snapping his hips against yours in a quick rhythm that leaves you gasping and trying to pull him closer. 
A hand leaves your hips to tangle in your hair; you arch up, thinking that he means to kiss you again until his palm wraps around the length of one horn, using it like a handle to pull your head back, throat exposed to him while he rails into you. “Delicious little thing,” he says, and drags his tongue down the column of your throat again, sucking a pattern of bruises along it that you know you’ll spend the next week pressing into with your fingertips. His sharp teeth pinch a bit of skin lightly and you jerk in his hold.
It should have terrified you, instead dousing your body in a liquid flame. “J-Just tasting, remember,” you jokingly reprimand, and his laugh reverberates through your chest.
“How could I forget?” He lets go of your horn, slips the hand between your bodies as he leans back so he can watch you rocking with the force of his thrusts into you. His thumb swipes forcefully at your clit, the ecstasy near overwhelming as he loses some of his rhythm, your cunt clamping down on him. “It's quite selfish to deny me, darling, but I’ll take of you what I can- your pleasure, your body, all of it mine-”
Your eyes roll back in your head as the tension in your lower body snaps, dragging Alastor down with a hand in his hair to meet your lips, desperate and sloppy while you quake and shatter to pieces below him. He spends himself with a snarl in the tightness of your body, slick with your arousal and release as you cry out, the sound swallowed by his mouth.
He remains still for a moment, crouched over you, before he pulls back and rests you gently on the cloak. “This thing is hideous,” he says with distaste. “It made it quite easy to track you- which was the intention- but you must have been sweltering.”
You watch what you can see if the sky through the canopy of the trees. “She said it could get cold,” you laugh, “and I’m a fool. What a terrible job.”
“Not a fool,” he corrects, spreading the fabric out to lay on it beside you for a moment. “Nearly a victim of a deal that didn’t concern you- and perhaps I will still pay your manager a visit- but never a fool. You convinced me not to eat you for now, at least.”
You shoot him a smile. “Well, you weren’t that scary once you stopped chasing me,” you giggle, “besides those sharp teeth.”
His nose wrinkles with his amusement. “Keep teasing me, dear, and I’ll acquaint you with these sharp teeth for real.” He leans close enough to nip at your shoulder, the motion more teasing than painful. “There’s always tomorrow, after all- who knows what my appetite will be once I’ve dealt with that manager of yours? Mutton could still be on the menu.”
“Well,” you say, “if I’ll be out of a job soon so I might go apply at the coffee shop around the corner from our place. I heard their manager is a real ass- how would you feel about duck instead?” He laughs into your shoulder, the sound deep and clear, and you think maybe it wasn’t such a bad job after all if this was where it lead for now.
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stuiie · 2 days
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Chapter 22 is up on AO3 and Wattpad!
So it's finally posted, and chapter 23 and 24 are in progress and soon done as well. Phase two of the story is going to be heavy, so hold on my darlings.
Please respect that this is a 18+ story. No offense but Minors do not interact.
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