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blindrapture · 5 months

Text

composition no. 8 (so far)

REFRAIN

It's a voice calling to me in the night, a voice I recognize from deep within, a voice I only somewhat actually hear.

"Come back."

SONG OF ECHO

Come back. Haven't you seen thematic solitude for as long as you could?

Come back. There's merit in comfortable vanity where comfortable vanity is mimetic music.

Come back. Tell me all the abstractions you've found. Let's rebuild with them.

Come back home. You've been roaming long enough.

ETERNAL CONSTRUCTION SITE ONLY MUCH BIGGER

First I must say where I have been.

Imagine a mansion in eternity. Would it have a make immaculate or ruinous? The merit to perfect bricks is aesthetic, its mode ideal: a perfect brick is what we aspire for bricks to be, with edges sanded smooth and corners exactly pointed; a mansion constructed as such will be a perfect mansion, but would it describe an eternal one? Immaculate polish, maintained according to immaculate conception, does not stand alone without manual upkeep. And a mansion, as a construction, must stand alone (or else we are describing not a mansion but an eternal construction site).

So then, the bricks must be ruinous. Crumbled, imperfect, whittling away towards nothing. Right? Does that hold up for eternity? In a matter of time, the mansion would be a heap of heaps, and later still not even that, the grains of dust blown by wind(?) into the grand temporal circulation patterns, more a part of eternity itself than of the intended construct. Does that describe a mansion?

Obviously this exercise is linguistic, then, and there is no clean answer. Surely? But, if there is no answer, where have I been? An abyssal plain? The unanswerable strand? The perpetually temporary Street of Roads, on the outskirts of the center of fabled underscore? I exclaim, I have been in eternity's mansions.

In truth, I still do not know which of the two makes these mansions were (ideal, or dilapidated), and I present the above to you as condensations of suppositions that had entertained my mind in moments of lucid contemplation. I know only that these were mansions-- at least while I was in them. I was not only in the mansions. My pilgrimage has been winding, and you can find my footprints on many an eternal sand. I am here now speaking of the mansions.

Did they have purposes, or owners? What purpose does any mansion have but to present its inhabitant? A house is designed to be inhabited, and so if a mansion only needed to be inhabited, it would have been a house and have no need for the extravagant size. Adding extravagance to a house, even simply making it much bigger, is like installing a frame onto a canvas: it brings explicit presentation, it emphasizes the presence of presentation. The eternal mansion eternally presents whoever inhabits it.

I inhabited, for a while, an eternal present. That's a slightly different sentence where "present" now qualifies "eternal" rather than "I." The future could be seen from the back windows, the past from the books I'd read. For me, the inhabitant, it was hard doing to focus on either of those at all. The mansion, trappings and all, took up my time. I suspected, and even now think back and wonder, that I was not the only inhabitant. Maybe there were others, maybe there were to be others, and I was alone during my allotted stay. Maybe I was not alone and the mansion was simply that big. One is allowed to question-- anything, in fact, including-- whether I was "the inhabitant" and not a guest.

Where did the mansion come from? Where its materials, its constituent parts? Suppose an eternal mansion has eternal parts. Well, which kind of "eternal mansion," the immaculate or the ruinous? Whichever one the bricks, that one the parts: either way, they came from Earth, from Time as we have known it. I did not stay long enough to be absolutely sure of the specifics, though I have made observations. They are all of this sort:

- I slept on a bed. - It remained the same bed for a number of days, months, more. - It would eventually change to a different bed, and never back to a previous bed. - I never saw it change, though I was not in the same room as the bed all of the time and did not make a concerted effort to see it change. - It was not always a particularly comfortable bed. Sometimes it was.

It is reasonable to assume the nature of the eternal mansion's bricks is the same, with imperfections being replaced when necessary. I did not observe those changes happening either, which on one hand may be more surprising, as there are a lot of bricks in a mansion and I ought to have seen the change happen at least once, but on the other hand may be just as you'd expect, as I do not make a habit of regularly and rigorously watching specific bricks in a wall all day every day. And, for that matter, this is rooted in an assumption. Perhaps the bricks operated differently than the materials of the interior.

I was not the perfect witness to the mechanisms of this mansion, as I spent the greater portion of my stay invested in my own thoughts and activities, those activities usually being further thoughts. I do not have a list of the things I thought about. I was there for a very long time. Many of the things I thought about, I will bring up in natural course in coming posts, blogs, websites, compositions.

It was, they were, mansions. Yet it was not peace.

NESTED

It was not peace, because I spent my days thinking without words. I was interested in this development at first, as it was a relief to change away from the constant words and noises of the brain to which I had grown so accustomed. This persisted, though, and after even a year of this I was now accustomed to mental silence, and words became rare. In that environment, the fluidity of the eternal, I wanted to maintain a pace of words in my head; I saw it as like a vitality without which I became at risk of transforming into a statue, or worse, a feral creature unrecognizing of humanity.

Consider the impossibility of being a writer of words, including the words on this very blog, when there simply are none. This wasn't your everyday lack of words, either. This was a mind that, from birth, was always buzzing, and growing, had many words, through life's chaos, plunging forward, often failing but always trying to articulate happenings and emotions in 26 characters and 9+ punctuation marks (the plus sign not even included in that 9), now sick of fire, weary of change, bruised by strife, aching, so aching, could keep going but instead decides to... stop, temporarily. "Temporarily" turns into "for a while." "For a while" turns into "from now on." Stories, what stories? Those stories? Those were written by a different man, and so they appear as such to my brain now. How can I proceed? How can I describe what went on in my head?

It's not that there were no words. Words in the head are more like.. abstractions of stimulus that calls for decision, they function in that role. Whenever something would happen that called for my decision, the words were there, eventually. Therefore, when I found myself in the eternal mansion, when I settled down to rest my aching legs awhile, I had nested within an environment of negligible stimulus, and my own psychology trapped itself. I was in trouble. All inertia had ceased; there was no more drive. But, do you see? There was nothing doing. Willing myself back into having words, in that place, would not happen.

Not without the dolls.

IN A SILENT WAY

The dolls helped me find words. I did not find the dolls at first, not for a long time that may have been a year. They were tucked away in a room of the mansion I did not venture around. The mansion was huge, and its interior felt like many different houses and structures strung together next to each other in one architectural design, so that after a little bit of preliminary wandering, I had settled on a set of rooms that could serve as a comfortable "house" for me to live in, and there was no reason to explore the rest (beyond curiosity, which the desire for rest at this point overshadowed). Any exploration would quickly run into the issue of exhaustion, as the true scope of that mansion had to have been on the scale of square miles.

The mansion's interior plan, as I eventually got a sense, had modularity to it. A bunch of rooms make up a "house." A bunch of houses are neighbors around a "courtyard," which in some cases is a literal open-roof courtyard (more like a whole park) and in other cases is an assortment of unique rooms. I had no reason to call them "houses" or "courtyards" other than my own need to name them, so don't get caught up in the names. Fundamentally it was all rooms, rooms, rooms.

In any case, my house bordered one given courtyard, and the dolls were in a room several courtyards away, so it was inevitable that I wouldn't find them for a long time. I spent that long time perhaps a little aware of the dolls, paradoxically. I was aware of the mental trap into which I had stumbled, an unequal venting of inertia until starting myself back up again proved more effort than all sense suggested, and furthermore I was also aware of an irrational Hope emerging from the wordless patterns of Tired... a hope that this lack of inertia which had itself come out of inertia would, itself, one day resolve. A hope that I would one day again move, spurred on by some hypothetical curiosity. I reasoned that a mansion like this must contain many curiosities-- many things that I would find curious. Surely. And it did, of course. But even in the profound period of laziness, I still had a hope that I would find some of them, and that I would react appropriately, find them.. curious.

I'm perhaps getting away from myself here. But this style of ramble is appropriate for the contents being narrated. These words fit the wordless, as it's not really about the words, but about the rhythms and structures, the inexhaustible exhaustion, the round-and-round roundabout riddles, every promise of a new subject seeing interruption as the discursive voice sinks into an old whirlpool. Really, it is no wonder that I spent much time resting, but now imagine these whirlpool sentences carrying on even when the words have ceased, imagine a ramble of empty sentences, a roundabout of punctuation-- then you will have considered the chamber music of my everyday life in that mansion.

That, for (I want to say "several") unbroken years, was my mental landscape. Some words, memories of words, washed up from the waves of blank, flotsam from a skillset I once had. It is vital to me now that I have or am retraining my articulation that I try many times to retroactively describe what it was like. Autobiography is a priority, and I am too spiteful to have gone through that and let it remain unspoken.

But the dolls.

I'm still not ready to talk about the dolls yet. There's a bit more I have to say.

THE FORMAL CAUSE OF METAPHYSICS

In a mind without words but shaped by the memory of words, time's passing is experienced elsehow. I felt it like emotions. In an environment without stimulus but shaped by the form of where stimulus might be, emotions are experienced without obscurity. I saw them like clouds. In an emotion without subject but remembered like any emotion with subject would be, time passes long-long. The proof is in the putting.

In talking of this now, having to pull my memories from back then and put words to the wordless, I fall back on the mannerisms of smart people whose works I have read far more recently. All this time, I've been speaking in the style of Samuel Beckett, and in the last paragraph I recalled some Michael Stevens. There simply are no words to adequately convey this, only references and signs, and signs signifying signs. What was that one. Umberto Eco. Of course.

There was a time, at the very dawn of protohistory (i.e. long before this blog or even the whole series of blogs, long before I even had the "protohistory" reference I just made), when I spoke like this too, pulling from contemporary sources, signs signifying nothing but their own technicalities, and fired away my sentences like and as the teenager I was, tasked with describing a past far bigger than any of the words I heard. And the word of the day then was "abuse," unsatisfactory but at least a container of those fires that escaped my brain (far better described through signs like "the eldritch" and "cosmic horror," signifiers of the impossible). The word of the day now is not quite as simple as that, though it's one I recognized even then:

"Isolation."

It's the theme, you see, of all this. Here I sing, you see, the refrain. It's isolation. All the books I've read talk about it, and none of them capture it. How, then, can I capture the unspeakable? How do I speak of where I've been, for eight long adult years, without merely repeating the readily-dismissable forms of the past? It's the refrain, I sing. How do I write about years spent unwriting my own brain?

Well, as you can see, I elected to begin with a conceit: a conversation with a personal god that frames a longer expansion. That expansion treats the allegory, an invention, that is the eternal mansion. Within this expansion, there is a maze, barely mentioned. This composition is set within a maze, in contrast to other works of mine that have been mazes. There's still more to be said, and my pace in setting it all down has been slow, so I can't tell you how long it will be before I'm done. But that's alright. I want this composition to have a slow tempo anyway. Every word must be taken into the mind, considered as an effort. What you're reading, my EAT, my sweet, my last mirror, my lost reader, is the product of the resolution of its own conflict. I am writing now because I am no longer in those mansions. The writing treats a foregone conclusion because it's not really about those mansions. It is about finishing a long thought far bigger, too bigger, than the shadow of a name.

Now I have to kill the You again and try, but only try, to speak of I again. End the refrain, but we will return.

The secret is in the emotions. Isn't it always? The emotions felt in those mansions, devoid of any stimulus that those emotions would otherwise treat as subject and color, in the absence of any natural form, gradually and with conscious practice over the course of courses of times and time, must take on-- must reveal-- the form of emotions themselves. Cut out all distractions, and the form even of the formless may be discerned.

I saw them like clouds, and necessarily like rain and the rivers too. Therefore, I saw emotions, in their purest form, as water. "They come and go like weather..." said one memory of a creation of my head. "Picture yourself by the rushing river of human history as the flotsam of memories drift by..." said another memory of a creation of someone else's. "The Cloud of Look-Like," said one more memory of a creation of my head, "does not exist, yet those who behave as if it does manage to get something right. Therefore, existence is not the only form that our reality accepts..."

Emotions, being of a similar chemistry as that of memories (in fact, what are emotions if not memories stripped, with time, of their content, left only with their form?), move. They enter our focus, color whatever thoughts and sensations are in front of us, then carry on, leaving us to reckon with the consequences of our actions taken under colored impressions. "We are left holding the bag..." says a nameless memory, but I must disagree with that premise, as it supposes that emotions do this on purpose, out of some design of our greater suffering. We are the ones with the designs, we are the ones who create those designs over the course of years, and we leave emotions to hold the bag. Emotions do not have intent. Emotions are like clouds. They come, they paint a sky that we then interpret forms out of which we call "weather," they go none the wiser, neither the more foolish, only the dumber. (remembering what "dumb" actually means)

It is not inherently pleasant to stand within a rainstorm. It is neither inherently depressing to stand under an overcast sky. A sky devoid of clouds, beautiful to look at, leaves my body exposed to the ultraviolent rays of the Light of Knowledge, the Sun we must in our time put down. The rubrics of nature were set before us and did not presume our needs; to change them for one is to change them for all. We must be certain that we know what we are doing. We must understand, and to stand under that Ideal Sun is to exert more effort than life had before prepared me for.

To stay in the eternal mansions, without words, meant watching the slow flow of emotions go, never to know, only to low, never to yes, only to no. Observation yes, composition no. Forget all I know in hopes of one day remembering when I have a better emotional foundation. And that.. may never happen. It may never happen even with the fount of all human knowledge to drink from, it may never happen even with the solidarity of friend and foe engaging me on the daily, it cannot happen when devoid of all drive and alone in rooms I will not describe. I figured that much not long into my stay. And yet, without drive, there is no movement. This situation would resolve itself only painfully slowly, all the while watching my emotions... watching them go.

It was scary in the way that horror stories never know.

#writing #prose #my art #existential

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sleepsonfutons · 1 year

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'I'm real. I'm here' for the angst 👀👀👀

Oh yeah, round 2 on the angst!!

It was a large, cavernous space governed by massive pillars and a ceiling that was anything but a ceiling. The night sky sprawled overhead uninterrupted and endless. Hob was star-struck, both figuratively and then literally as a shooting star came falling from the starfield above. He was rooted to the spot, unable to move, until the star struck the polished marble beneath his feet and skittered out into a thousand little shards skipping across the stone.

Hob shivered when he realized its path had taken it straight through his own chest, but he'd not even felt a whisper of its touch. Suddenly the yawning void of space felt ominous as opposed to awe-inspiring, even as the swirling galaxies continued to shine merrily. The grand palatial space no longer felt impressive, but oppressively empty and lonely. Everything felt even colder than it had moments before. He needed to get out of here.

His breaths were starting to become shallow and fast as his chest felt like it'd been dropped into a vice as he looked around for any way out. Then his frantically scanning gaze passed over an irregular shadow, anchoring it and dragging it back. He couldn't make out what it was, but it sat at the bottom of a great winding stair that rose to connect with a platform that simply hung in the air. On it sat an imposing throne and casting his gaze beyond, Hob realized there were three great panes of stained glass. They were so dark though that it was no surprise he hadn't noticed them earlier.

He started across the space and as he got closer, the imagery in the glass revealed itself when a thundering crack of lightning backlit it and cast long shadows of the dais, stairs, and...hunched figure at their base. The tri-panel window depicted a desolate scene. To describe it in a word, Hob would say it was 'depressing'. There was a figure in repose that spanned the width of the window and ghostly faces weeping below them. Above them, a figure turned its gaze toward a burning sky. They had no face and they appeared utterly lost, devastated at the state of the shrouded body beneath them.

Tears sprung unbidden to his eyes at the emotion portrayed in stark greyscale and then Hob saw it. A single point of color at the throat of the faceless figure, a ruby pendant that would always be able to recognize. It couldn't be his Friend portrayed there though...it couldn't. But, it also could be no other, even if that realization made something inside him feel like it was breaking.

Hob had no idea how long he stood there gazing up at the scene, confounded and struck before he felt the weight of eyes on him. When he sought out whoever was staring at him, he found the sapphire blues he loved most in the world upon him. However, there was something strange about Dream's gaze. Then, he realized it was because while he was meeting Dream's eyes, the other man's gaze was cast too far to be seeing him. It was like he was seeing through him.

Dream shook his head before dropping it once more and resuming his previously hunched position. Hob hurried forward, reaching out to his Friend, wanting nothing more than to offer comfort. He dropped to his knees before Dream, his hand freezing just over where he was about to place it on Dream's knee when he registered the other man's whispered words.

"He is gone. He is gone and, at the last, I let my wretched pride resolutely reject his friendship. Would that I only had one last chance to speak with you, Hob Gadling...I would reassure you that you had not been inaccurate in your assessments. And that you were a precious existence to me."

Hob's breath caught at this confession and set his mind reeling when Dream's piercing gaze once more landed not on him, but through him.

"You are gone, Hob. Yet, I can not escape the echoes of your existence..." Dream's hand stretched out past Hob's head before dropping back to hang between his knees.

Hob pleaded, "I'm real. I'm here. I'm right here, Dream!"

Dream leaned his head back and his gaze lost all focus as he became a perfect reflection of his stained-glass self. Desolate, lonely, and utterly lost.

Angst Prompts~

#dreamling #dream x hob #let's bring on the angst #angst prompts #the sandman #the sandman fanfic #drabble #my writing #sleepsonfutons writes #seiya-starsniper

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whump-ventures · 1 year

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First Meeting Storyline: Zinjiq. Part 1- The Ten-Year War Main OCs: Rahim and Sajia

~~~

I don’t want to marry a monster.

Her protests fall on deaf ears, not a soul caring for her own desires. As much as she’s begged her father “Don’t make me do this”, all he has ever said in response is that it is her duty as a noblewoman. Her mother has no sympathy either. Her fears are not important. Her family just wants the power from this marriage.

She’s a pawn to them. As she has been since day one.

“Mother, please…” Sajia tries once more, pouring all her desperation into the plea. “You have heard what kind of a man His Majesty is. Why would you agree to marry me-”

“Sajia, I will hear no more of this.” Her mother snaps, interrupting her. “You are a noblewoman of Khurzan, and you should consider it an honor that you were chosen to marry the emperor himself. Promised since birth. Many women would kill to be in your position.”

Sajia shakes her head, ignoring the hiss of frustration as her mother continues to work on her hair. “And what if he harms me?” The real fear starts to creep up, imagining his hands on her, grabbing her, pinning her down… “What if he believes that I-”

“I said that is enough, daughter.” The last word is said without any feeling and makes her heart sink. Her mother pulls hard on her hair, twisting another ornament into it, the softer touch she was working with earlier all but gone. “Not another word about this, do you understand me?”

Sajia swallows hard. She nearly nods her head in response before remembering that she is supposed to be holding still. “Yes, ma’am.” Her voice is barely audible.

“Good.” Another ornament is twisted in and her mother’s voice is slightly more pleased when she speaks next. “Let’s take a break there before finishing up and getting you dressed. Do try to find some gratitude in your heart while I’m gone.”

The servants bow to her mother as she sweeps out of the room, half of them following Lady Aziz. The other few stay nearby. One young girl bows and with a quiet voice murmurs, “Is there anything I can do for you, My Lady?”

Sajia smiles politely at her, hoping that the poor girl wasn’t upset watching the two nobles argue in front of her. “I’m just fine, thank you. Why don’t you all go take a break? I would like the room to myself for a bit.”

Her maids excuse themselves, and Sajia gets to her feet. She twists her hands together, trying to stop them from shaking. It’s normal to be afraid, she tries to tell herself. Everything that she heard about Rahim is just… rumors. Maybe he won’t be anything like what she fears.

Sajia has heard her family speak of the battle on the border of Sakhta many years before she was even born. A powerful region, with trade cities, and many resources. The Emperor Zuhayr of Khurzan attacked the region in a bid to expand his own kingdom. He was successful. That’s why her marriage is so important- why it was decided before she was even born. It’s her region’s way of recognizing the Khurzanese rulers as their own. It’s her family line turning its back on Sakhta and forming an alliance with the emperor’s family.

Zuhayr is the true monster here. Maybe Rahim was right to drive his father away: Exile him and take over. Maybe the young ruler has a kinder heart than she expected. Maybe she needs to go for a walk, get out of her head, and breathe. It’s normal to be frightened. But she can not allow herself to become neurotic.

The knock on the door makes her jump.

With a sigh, Sajia walks over. Her maids- bless their hearts- are too concerned for her mental state to leave her alone right now, and she’s preparing to let them in for a polite conversation. But when she opens the door, she’s left blinking in surprise at the sight that greets her.

It’s a young man- her age- standing in the doorway. He has dark skin like her, and curly black hair that goes just past his chin. He seems polished and dignified, broad shouldered and well-muscled. His black eyes are sparking with a playful curiosity and they match his slightly lopsided grin and the few curls that have sprung out of place. To her surprise, he’s not much taller than her. There are a couple scars on his face that draw her attention, and she tries not to study them too closely.

“Hey there, sorry if I’m interrupting-”

“Who are you?” She blurts out the question without meaning to, and almost immediately regrets interrupting. Whoever this man is, he’s clearly a noble of some sorts, and it’s beyond rude for a woman to cut him off mid speech.

He doesn’t seem offended by her interruption, if anything, his eyes seem to sparkle more as he looks at her. “Well, I was about to introduce myself if you would have given me more than two seconds.” She’s notes that his tone matches his appearance- kind and teasing, and surprisingly not even a slight of anger over her disrespect. “My name is Rahim Al Khalil. There’s a rumor going around that we’re getting married today.”

Sajia steps back immediately when he reveals who he is, not sure what to say or do at the revalation. The young emperor isn’t nearly as intimidating as she thought he would be, but there’s still the urge to sink into a bow and beg him for forgiveness for her earlier rudeness. Her hands go to the door handle, still staring at the young man in shock. “I- I don’t believe you’re supposed to see me before the ceremony, Your Majesty.”

He shrugs, but doesn’t move from his spot in the doorway. He’s leaning up against the doorframe now, arms crossed. There's a recent wound that looks to be a deep sword cut, and she remembers hearing about the infamous duel between the former emperor and the new one standing right in front of her. “I don’t really get along with rules. I thought it would be vastly more polite to introduce myself beforehand. If we are to get married, I would love to get to know you as soon as possible.”

“Oh.” Sajia swallows the lump in her throat. His scanning eyes are starting to make her uncomfortable now. Is he looking forward to what comes after the festivities? Does he believe that his kindness now may make up for what she must sacrifice later? “Well, I’m Sajia. Sajia Al Aziz. But I’m guessing you already knew that, considering that- that I- we-” She’s tripping over her words now, and Sajia breaks off, shaking her head. “Forgive me, Your Majesty, it’s just-”

His eyes soften to something akin to concern, but it only serves to make her more uncomfortable. “You can call me Rahim, if you wish. I am to be your husband, not your emperor. My goal is to work with you, not have you be merely a pretty face standing next to me.”

Sajia looks down and away at that. “I’m sorry to be so dismissive, your Majesty- Rahim.” His name feels foreign on her lips, too informal to belong there. “But I really should continue getting ready.”

“In theory, I should do that too. But I doubt they can make me any more handsome than what I already am.”

Sajia laughs softly at his playful arrogance, feeling a little lighter than before when their eyes meet for a second time. Sajia notices first, and she quickly looks away again, starting to fiddle with her bracelet as a distraction.

“Well I must be the luckiest man alive.” He still hasn’t left, and when she looks up, his smile returns. “I was told I was marrying for political reasons, and yet I get to marry the prettiest woman in all of Zinjiq.”

The compliment catches her off guard- like everything else His Majesty has been doing since he first arrived in her room. She smiles back at him- it’s a genuine smile at the compliment. She’s been told that before, but never in a way that seemed so… sincere. Her head ducks slightly in embarrassment before she speaks again. “Thank you, You- Rahim. Your words are kind.”

He looks at her for a moment longer before laughing, almost nervous, and brushing a curl behind his ear. It pops right back out of place. “I promise I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable.” Is he just now realizing her discomfort? Men really are blind. “I just meant that… you really are beautiful, and I am hoping I can find a way to make you happy.” There’s a new seriousness to his tone that wasn’t there before, along with a new awkwardness like he’s suddenly ventured into a path that he’s uncertain of. “I wish to give you the best life possible, Lady Aziz, and I will strive to be the greatest husband I can be for you.”

He bows to her, a gesture that seems wildly out of place considering his status. “It is truly an honor to meet you.” His words sound like a farewell now. “I’ll see you in a few hours- and don’t worry.” That playful gleam is back as he winks at her. “I’ll pretend to be surprised when I see your beauty for the first time.”

Sajia can feel another soft smile flicker across her face at that, a laugh nearly escaping. He hesitates for just a brief moment, as if he has more to say, but then he turns and leaves, closing the door gently behind him. His footsteps fade away into the distance, and Sajia is surprised at the disappointment that strikes her when they’re gone completely.

How did he manage that? How did the man that she’s so scared of manage to make her smile, to make her laugh? Are her perceptions about the man he is that off? Or is he simply that good of an actor?

She moves to sit back down in the chair, looking at herself in the mirror. Her hair is only halfway finished, the bronze and diamond ornaments only adorning one side of her head thus far. Her makeup isn’t on yet, and she’s wearing simple robes, not her elaborate wedding gown. What did he see in her? Why did he call her beautiful when she looks like a mess?

All that Sajia knows is that the strange interaction with her future husband has left her more confused than ever before.

#soft #fluff #this is nice i promise #the vaguest of noncon mentions #zinjiq #sajia #rahim #first meeting #ffs idk what to tag this as #arranged marriage

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picsofsannyas · 1 year

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EVEN IF SOMETIMES LOVE-LIKE FEELINGS ARISE IN MY HEART, IMMEDIATELY THE NEXT MOMENT I START FEELING 'THIS IS NOT LOVE, THIS IS NOT LOVE AT ALL: IT IS ALL MY HIDDEN CRAVINGS FOR SEX AND ALL THAT'.

So what is wrong in it? Love has to arise out of lust. If you avoid lust, you will be avoiding the whole possibility of love itself. Love is not lust, true; but love is not without lust -- that too is true. Love is higher than lust, yes, but if you destroy lust completely, you destroy the very possibility of the flower arising out of the mud. Love is the lotus, lust is the mud the lotus arises out of. Remember it; otherwise you will never attain to love. At the most, you can pretend that you have transcended lust. Because without love, nobody can transcend lust; you can repress it. Repressed, it becomes more poisonous. It spreads into your whole system, it becomes toxic, it destroys you. Lust transformed into love gives you a glow, a radiance. You start feeling light, as if you can fly. You start gaining wings. With lust repressed you become heavy, as if you are carrying a weight, as if a big rock is hanging around your neck. With lust repressed, you lose all opportunities to fly in the sky. With lust transformed into love, you have passed the test of existence. You have been given a raw material to work, to be creative. Lust is raw material.

I have heard.... Berkowitz and Michaelson, who were not only business partners but life-long friends, made a pact: that whichever one died first would come back and tell the other what it was like in heaven. Six months later, Berkowitz died. He was a very moral man, almost saint-like, a puritan who had never done anything wrong, who had always remained afraid of lust and sex. And Michaelson waited for his dear departed holy friend to show some sign that he had returned to earth. Michaelson passed the time impatiently hoping for and eagerly awaiting a message from Berkowitz. Then one year after the day of his death, Berkowitz spoke to Michaelson. It was late at night; Michaelson was in bed. "Michaelson, Michaelson," echoed the voice. "Is that you, Berkowitz?" "Yes." "What is it like where you are?" "We have breakfast and then we make love, then we eat lunch and we make love, we have dinner and then we make love." "Is that what heaven is like?" asked Michaelson. "Who said anything about heaven?" said Berkowitz. "I am in Wisconsin, and I am a bull."

Remember, this happens to people who repress sex. Nothing else can happen because that whole energy repressed becomes a load and pulls you down. You move towards lower stages of being. If love arises out of lust, you start rising towards higher being.

So remember, what you want to become -- a Buddha or a bull -- depends on you. If you want to become a Buddha, then don't be afraid of sex. Move into it, know it well, become more and more alert about it. Be careful; it is tremendously valuable energy. Make it a meditation and transform it, by and by, into love. It is raw material, like a raw diamond: you have to cut it, polish it; then it becomes of tremendous value. If somebody gives you an unpolished, raw, uncut diamond, you may not even recognize that it is a diamond. Even the Kohinoor in its raw state is worthless.

Lust is a Kohinoor: it has to be polished, it has to be understood. The questioner seems to be afraid and antagonistic: "It is all my hidden cravings for sex and all that." There is a condemnation in it. Nothing is wrong; man is a sexual animal. That's how we are. That's the way life means us to be. That's how we have found ourselves here. Go into it. Without going, you will never be able to transform it. I'm not speaking for mere indulgence. I'm saying move into it with deep meditative energy to understand what it is. It must be something tremendously valuable because you have come out of it, because the whole existence enjoys it, because the whole existence is sexual. Sex is the way God has chosen to be in the world, notwithstanding what Christians go on saying -- that Jesus was born out of a virgin woman -- all foolishness. They pretend that sex was not involved in Jesus' birth. They are so afraid of sex that they create foolish stories like this: that Jesus is born out of a virgin Mary. Mary must have been very pure, that's true; she must have been spiritually virgin, that is true -- but there is no way to enter into life without passing through the energy that sex is. The body knows no other law. And nature is all-inclusive: it believes in no exceptions, it allows no exceptions. You are born out of sex, you are full of sex energy. But this is not the end; this may be the beginning. Sex is the beginning but not the end.

There are three types of people. One thinks that sex is the end also. They are the people who live a life of indulgence. They miss, because sex is the beginning but not the end. Then there are people who are against indulgence. They take the other, the opposite extreme: they don't want sex even to be the beginning, so they start cutting it. Cutting it, they cut themselves. Destroying it, they destroy themselves, they wither away. Both are foolish attitudes.

There is the third possibility: the possibility of the wise man who looks at life, who has no theories to enforce on life, who just tries to understand. He comes to see that sex is the beginning but not the end. Sex is just an opportunity to grow beyond it, but one has to pass through it.

Osho.

The Beloved, Vol 1 Chapter #10 Chapter title: Truth is neither I nor you

6th Question

#osho #lust #meditation #love #spirituality #questions

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eternalstretchofmuses · 1 year

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Name: Kimu Yodoya Text colour: Orange Title: Forgotten Wanderer With a Brazien Shell Age: 111 Birthday: August 12 Species: Shougorou Location: Wanderer, most often found in large open areas Height: 5'9" (175.7 cm) Weight: 171.2 lbs (77.7 kg), her gong shell weighs 569.8 lbs (258.5 kg) Gender: Female

Appearance: Medium-length bronze-coloured, almost metallic hair, styled in a large ponytail at the back. Red strings are attached directly to her wrists, ankles and nape. They're prehensile but usually tethered to her limbs when not in use. Most often, they're seen tethered to a large (1.1 m in diameter) and exceedingly heavy gong that she carries on her back like a turtle's shell. It appears to be made of brass or a similar metal but is far heavier than it should be. It's patterned with black hexagons and has the character "轟" written in the centre in bold. Due to its weight, she can't stand up entirely straight. Attached to her lower back is a thicker red rope with a large wooden mallet tied to the end. Usually bears an expression ranging from a blank stare to a slight frown: not very visually emotive when it comes to positive emotions. Has brown eyes that are reflective.

Clothing: Wears a black samue with metallic bronze lining, the sleeves of which have red string woven into them. She also wears knee-length pants that follow the same style. On her head, she wears a metal object resembling a takuhatsugasa. However, it's actually a decorative gong she wears as a hat (what an odd choice). Due to the sheer weight of the gong on her back, she's unable to wear shoes unless she puts the gong down (its weight breaks them).

Personality: Quite stoic and sometimes almost emotionless to the point where she may seem aloof. Despite how it'd appear, she's very emotional on the inside. If she's feeling exceptionally emotional, she often repeatedly strikes her gong with the mallet attached to her rope-tail-thing, sending loud GONGS throughout the nearby area. Several topics can cause this state, the most notable being inquiries about her past. She's also a bit eccentric, occasionally speaking as if writing a poem with her words. Not opposed to using violence to get what she wants.

Background information: Kimu is a tsukumogami that was born from an old, long-forgotten gong that was never used, not even by its creator. She was created from the Miracle Mallet incident, but due to something not even she knows the true cause of, she persisted after the incident ended. Plagued with insomnia around most of her past, she wanders Gensokyo in search of answers as to who made her, why she was never used, and how she persisted after.

Abilities: Manipulation of resonance and vibrations: Kimu can control the resonation of anything struck by her mallet, ranging from slow oscillations to buzzing vibrations. This ability will function on anything that can vibrate.

Predicting future events: By striking the gong on her back and reading its frequency, Kimu can predict events up to 7 days in advance, the margin of error increasing the farther ahead she predicts. She usually uses it to predict the weather, though. This ability takes a few seconds to work, making it unviable for combat.

Likes: Enjoys loud noises and metal polishing. While she carries it around for a reason, she also likes taking a minute to set her gong down for a while. She also appreciates having her presence recognized, even if she doesn't usually go out of her way to make it known. If you strike her gong yourself, she'll remember that for quite a while.

Dislikes: Hates being ignored, though she won't go out of her way to tell you that unless you make her mad by doing it. Strongly dislikes being told to smile more. Doesn't like feeling useless, either. Being reminded that she doesn't remember a lot about her past is a slight peeve, but nothing she'd fight you for. Has a lingering resentment for humans: one of the only things she knows about her creator is that they were human, so she always goes in with the assumption that any human she talks to might be related to her seemingly ungrateful creator.

Strengths: Being high in physical strength (due to the giant gong) and heavily armoured from behind (also due to the giant gong), she's tough and resilient. Her gong appears to be almost indestructible. While she seems aloof, she's a good friend if you treat her with the respect she wants. Her legs are strong, so when she puts down her gong, she can run alarmingly fast.

Weaknesses: The nature of her gong as an immovable object comes at a price. Due to its immense weight, she's incredibly slow while holding it. She also can't protect herself entirely with it, only one side at once. Her tendency to bottle her emotions up can end with her lashing out at people when it becomes too much. This happens a little more frequently with humans due to her resentment for her creator.

Theme: A Forgotten Resonance Named Vedanā ~ The Rumbling of All Things Abandoned

Spellcards: Resounding Future 「Rumbling of Tomorrow's Thunder」 Buddha's Bowl 「Spouting Resonation of the Waters」 Karmic Retribution 「Return of Yesterday's Deeds」 Metallic Tone 「Frequency of Wealth and Surplus」 Resonating Cries of Sorrow 「The Instrument Used by No One's Hand」「The Future Holds Nothing For You」 Thunderous Earthen Rumbling 「Youkai's Forgotten Seismograph」 (Last Word)

Tag: Forgotten and Directionless Wanderer ~ Kimu Professional Artist Rendition:

#muse bio #character bio #bio #Forgotten and Directionless Wanderer ~ Kimu

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easternmind · 2 years

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Oh boy, what do you think of the Silent Hill 2 remake trailer? I can’t speak for the other announced stuff cause I’m pretty basic when it comes to my appreciation for the series, but I do not care for the style change. There’s nothing wrong with the original’s graphics, and those FMVs in particular are still phenomenal! Do we really need to see every single strand of James Sunderland’s five-o-clock shadow?

I know the original source code was lost, and I know a game as old as SH2 should be played on modern hardware, but if Bloober are gonna remake it from the ground-up, I just don’t see a reason to make the new graphics so overly-polished, the devs of the original made the choices they did for a reason, it’s just detailed enough where each character has incredibly subtle details like Eddie’s dilated pupil’s and Maria’s slight stomach flab, but it leaves just enough room for your imagination to fill in the blanks.

I worry with these new graphics, it’s gonna be like those instances where some horror movies get so overly-remastered that you can see the imperfections that the film grain could hide. At the very least, why not recreate the FMVs to apply to the entire game? I think that could actually be interesting… so long as more of Team Silent were involved. I don’t know much about Bloober and haven’t played any of their games, but I hear they tend to have some major problems with their writing and horror.

We recently discussed Pathologic 2 as a great example of expanding on the original in a different way, but at least the original was a compromised vision so it makes more sense for a game like Pathologic Classic to be remade from the ground-up.

Am I coming off as too nitpicky with just this single trailer to go off of?

If anything you are being too tactful in describing the situation. The current popularity of video game remakes is symptomatic of a creative crisis at the heart of the industry, as well of the average consumer's expectations from technology. Players have allowed themselves to be persuaded by the unfinished thought that the best path to revisit the classic games they grew up playing is to have them reworked to look modern and pristine; paying little or no mind to the fact that their perception of the original game experience will irreparably be altered in the process. Certain studios, on the other hand, feel much more at ease with the prospect of developing a new version of a beloved game whose known popularity gives them a risk-reducing safety net, while also bypassing the strenuous work of developing an original concept. Just a few days ago in another comment exchange here, I repudiated the Bluepoint remake of Shadow of the Colossus, for me the foremost example of the perils this practice entails. To that, I would add that other atrocity that was the also recent Panzer Dragoon remake. I feel downright terrified by how the majority of players considers this to be entirely harmless. Silent Hill 2 is a game from its time and for its time. I remember that the slight resolution upgrade seen in the XBOX edition already exposed the fragile seams that stitched it together. The aesthetics were designed with a CRT TV equipment in mind. As you say, this specific visual style doesn't lend itself too well to modern displays. Adding sheen to its dull textures compromises its entire visual identity. Increasing the detail of character models poses impossible interpretative challenges, leading to the result we saw in today’s presentation, where there is nothing left of James' original facial features to be recognized in the remake. Paradoxically, we’re expected to summon the memories of something exceptional and familiar, use them to fill the credibility gaps of some high definition ersatz that will, in its turn, consume them and replace them by lesser ones. There was already enough information available to establish that Bloober was developing a Silent Hill project, namely the fact that a partnership deal was announced last year right about at the same time Tencent became a major shareholder for this studio. Their games are, for the most part, unconvincing. I played Observer and while it was fine as an independent project, it was clearly not a congruent experience. They also face-lifted it but a few years after the first edition, which I found suspicious, even though it’s their IP to do with as they please. The Medium isn't a complete failure, although it shows a poor lack of understanding of what constitutes horror in a video game experience. I never even touched Layers of Fear games because nothing about it seemed to deserve any attention. Although they are an already established studio, this will be their biggest project yet, with a potential target audience much wider than any of their previous titles. Nothing should distract us, however, from the fact that these are mere tradesmen foolishly attempting to recreate a work of art. I will say that Townfall, by No Code, has the smallest margin by which it may succeed in taking the base themes of Silent Hill and working them from an angle that fits the studio's own artistic direction, freed from the pressure of making the game look identical to its prequels. Their other games, Observation and Untold Stories, are sufficiently unique and inventive for me to preserve moderate expectations that they may actually be in the process of creating the first dignified sequel since the release of 'The Room'.

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plainradish6 · 2 years

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Some Known Factual Statements About Your Name director's new movie is a romantic adventure

In This Piece Covers It Well -speaking world, the typical youngster’s greatest knowledge along with the Japanese tradition of SFX-driven live-action understood as tokusatsu would probably be Power Rangers, the long-running TV series concerning a team of mech-piloting superheroes. But, even though I was not exactly sure how it can be therefore largely recognized, it was vital to me to know how and why that kind worked with Japan at its greatest. That show was acquired from a Eastern course called Super Sentai, which was itself a launch from the ’60s classic Ultraman – an necessary family tree in lighting of the current information that Ultraman will certainly very soon receive a silver-screen reboot. Nonetheless, the character of Ultra-Orl would additionally participate in a critical function in the tale, a story that I had long looked at unthinkable simply a month or two back, but which the movie's main character is ready to share. A trailer seemed over the weekend for Toho Studios’ upcoming Shin Ultraman, which are going to provide the big-budget treatment to the unusual character. The trailer features a brand-new unusual invader who seems to be the same kind of android Kuiper as her boss, who the developer has prompted might be Kuiper's father. Check out Kiiper and the invaders war to become the real hazard to the unusual household that exists on Ultra Street Fighter. (He’s technically a symbiote who takes over a host’s physical body, switches 50 storeys tall, and battle big creatures phoned kaiju . He has extremely durability, wheelchair, and strength-to-weight ratio, creating HIM the heaviest and fastest beast in the video game.He is a creature made of a single, lengthy, slim, humanoid body which is really solid and powerful good enough for him to quickly subdue any sort of various other creature. Somewhere, Venom is seething along with envy.). The following morning, it was revealed that Spider-Man were performing the same factor to Venom's papa (in the hope that it would aid him endure… and at that point Venom would help him). Venom's papa (along along with Spider-Man and Spider-Woman), really wanted to view Spider-Man, and at that point the Venom symbiote decided to attempt it. In the short 30-second clip below, he twist with a large mutant turtle and carries out his trademark rocket-jump into the skies, all of it rubbed to a bright CGI polish. It's like throwing a projectile in to a significant property. (The suggestion behind the setting is that the CGI variation of Doom may be too CGI for genuine life.). Even more than anything, the impact experiences like an old-fashioned version of Space Invaders over-powered tools. Hopes for the venture are high, in part because fanatics of this specific style remember how well Shin Godzilla switched out back in 2016, along with the very same imaginative team (Neon Genesis Evangelion maker Hideaki Anno being the secret-weapon screenwriter) and the very same aesthetic of technical complexity within throwback fun. But the end result in this case have been rather frustrating. Godzilla might not be our most well-known, but it's still impressive good enough to merit its personal classification. Unlike the recent American-made Godzilla movies, there was no po-faced sense of momentousness, as Toho caught to the unserious shade of the authentic while presenting brand new wrinkles to the time-tested formula. It was not the end of an period with brand-new advancements, yet it did present the most intriguing elements to the franchise: monsters and cars that look like they were created through hand coming from an unidentified resource and come in the most contemporary of kinds. Toho currently has concept for a entire ‘Shin Japan Heroes Universe’ linking the recently refreshed Godzilla, Ultraman, and an upcoming reboot of Kamen Rider (the sensation ’70s TV series about an insect-themed motorcycling battler of beasts). You could see this company brand new activity hero's action on display at some of the Tokyo theaters in the upcoming full weeks, but for right now, you'll most likely be left with one of couple of high-level franchise announcements. They’re clearly taking cues coming from their equivalents in the West, settling well-known companies under a single advertisement that the public can determine and rely on to deliver similar pleasure in potential releases. At the very least in North American, which has been slammed for its reduced level of innovation, companies are receiving a solid improvement of new ones, with many promising to happen of their very own in the coming months. Possibly it’s just because Toho’s huge undertaking is still in its immaturity, but they seem to be off to a far better begin than their Hollywood rivals, well aware of the allure their residential or commercial properties possessed in the first area and not getting bogged down in folklore for its own sake. Ahem. There's no simple comparison, truly. One may mention they're not Hollywood, and it's not out of a cynical negative sense of "oh what's this movie about?

#japan song #japan new film #japan movie trailer

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dryerdecade73 · 2 years

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Getting The Best Nail Salons NYC To Work

Full Article are all everyone is speaking regarding! Last year I purchased it off an internet vendor, and I think the charm world is overjoyed. I likewise acquired some new nail gloss. I presume you can easily pick up at a rebate here once the cost loses by $17.50. It's worth selecting up before the end of July. You will definitely be nicely surprised how little you are going to invest. There are thus many fun colors and designs that are in type this period. It's like my grandfather who just likes to bake. (I could provide him all those trendy concepts.) Thus if you are a fan of the Harry Potter personality, it's been the finest season of summer months for you to observe. Here's just a handful of to help you make the greatest summer season time encounter in the past history of the Potter collection, and my favored day is right around the corner.

When I have my nails done, I feel like I can take on anything! I will take on any kind of variety of paint I need to have and that doesn't cease me coming from carrying out it. And there's one more main reason I select to perform work when I possess to do it. I recognize there's a whole lot of job going on in my physical body, but merely doing it when I possess to does a lot more for me. Because I am an artist. I can easily do everything I yearn for, I will do anything. I’m loving all of the nail trends and am therefore ecstatic to share them with you all, who recognizes, maybe you’ll be inspired to step out of your convenience zone along with these! We hope you enjoy them! **This message may consist of associate links. I may receive a tiny compensation at no cost to you if you purchase through these links. Give thanks to you~♽ Thank you for assisting me. Coming from intense colored french peanut to smiley faces to 70’s passionate swirls, this is the summer season of pleasant nails! A light reddish different colors, along with a daring and vibrant blue glimmer to it, an classy style produces its technique out the front, and up the edges, to the center, in to the textile. It's incredibly unique in its easy, timeless look, and it has a really functional kind that need to be valued. Everyone deserves to deal with themselves every once in awhile, and a fresh manicure is one of the greatest methods to perform so. In this blog post, we will not get in to specifics regarding how to make the best three most-used manicures – but you don't also have to, and I will cover how to apply a few of the very most hypo-stylized coats by making use of some of the very most well-known formulas to make it look like you've acquired what everything looks like. If you’re in NYC, you have to inspect out these nail beauty shops, they truly are the greatest in the city and all of the nail service technicians are thus proficient! Their nail hair salons provide you with the option to have a possibility to participate in nail polish with various other nail performers that you most likely all understand. If you live in NYC, you probably have listened to of Glosslab! This start-up has carried with each other individuals in several industries coming from artistic sectors, retailing and coordinations to pay for and insurance policy to healthcare to transit. We are all connected. The tip behind Glosslab is to provide even more worth than just the "average worker". The objective is to build solutions that carry you all together! GlossyLab is presently in the process of finishing a series of examinations to comprehend the market value of the area. They have numerous sites and are one of the absolute best nail beauty shops I’ve ever before been to. Their managers, and I believe they are additionally a incredibly experienced producer through attribute. Along with my latest experience, I chosen to attempt our brand-new absolute best, and it has been beautiful thus much. They are truly my favored nail beauty shop and they are also a terrific household company that you will definitely absolutely happen out listed below to if you desire anything coming from them in any method. What produces them stand up out coming from all the rest, is that they possess a membership course you can sign up for– endless mani+pedis with your selection of polish kind for $100/month. It's a totally free course in a pleasant place, in most cases, on its personal. Their membership is limitless, but some may acquire additional than what you paid for for. They are likewise known for having solid women on team for some rather amazing benefits that are only actually offered for these women.

#nail salons #acrylic nails #painting nails

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edgersense5 · 2 years

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What Does Nail Salons near you in New York, NY (415) Mean?

The summer season nail fads are all everyone is speaking concerning! Last year I acquired it off an internet homeowner, and I assume the elegance world is overjoyed. I also acquired some brand new nail gloss. I believe you may decide on up at a savings right here once the price goes down through $17.50. It's worth choosing up just before the end of July. You will be pleasingly surprised how little bit of you will certainly devote. There are thus a lot of exciting shades and designs that are in type this season. It's like my grandfather who suches as to bake. (I might offer him all those awesome tips.) Therefore if you are a follower of the Harry Potter personality, it's been the best season of summer season for you to observe. Listed here's just a couple of to assist you make the best summer day experience in the history of the Potter collection, and my beloved time is straight around the edge. When I have my nails done, I really feel like I can easily take on anything! Full Article are going to take on any type of type of art work I need to have and that doesn't quit me from performing it. And there's yet another explanation I choose to perform job when I possess to perform it. I recognize there's a great deal of work going on in my body system, but merely doing it when I have to performs a great deal even more for me. Because I am an musician. I can easily perform everything I desire, I are going to carry out anything. I’m loving all of the nail trends and am thus fired up to discuss them along with you all, who understands, perhaps you’ll be inspired to step out of your comfort zone along with these! (Okay now you look at them very carefully, they try definitely good and you're appearing forward to something a little much less like a nail polish…) You can easily also select up the nail gloss to palm while going to The Dots, I enjoy taking photos of all the nail products along with me. From vivid colored french peanut to smiley faces to 70’s motivated swirls, this is the summer of pleasant nails! If you don't need to have your fingers, quit straight listed below. The perfect summertime different colors for your nails, the very most delectable of them all! They will certainly create your nails also brighter by creating the look extra like your nails, leaving behind your nails much longer, and with your nails still as clean as you yearned for them to be!

Everyone is worthy of to handle themselves every once in some time, and a fresh manicure is one of the ideal means to do thus. Listed here are some instances for you to select coming from. In a manicure I choose to use true lime peeling or a mixture of the a variety of styles in my sample, or a organic blusher or black eye-catching colour through Koko Nomi. If you’re in NYC, you possess to check out out these nail beauty parlors, they absolutely are the greatest in the area and all of the nail service technicians are so proficient! Their nail beauty salons deliver you along with the opportunity to have a odds to play nail polish along with other nail musicians that you probably all understand. If you live in NYC, you possibly have heard of Glosslab! Here you can discover concerning how its system helps pupils discover manuals through looking over pertinent posts making use of its social hyperlinks that provide them all the relevant information that they require to work towards finding complimentary, free of cost, or at least less costly complimentary, manuals! The 1st thing to note about what's occurring in the nation straight right now is all the interest being paid for to the headlines. They possess numerous places and are one of the greatest nail beauty salons I’ve ever been to. The shop has actually a excellent assortment of nail food and is extremely informative. The solution was excellent and the solution is fast. Excellent task through the staff. The waitress is excellent and recognizes what she is performing. She gave us a chance to take the purchase and it is fantastic. The outlet has an great collection of nail meals and the staff takes a lot of our orders. What produces them stand out from all the remainder, is that they possess a subscription program you can easily sign up for– endless mani+pedis with your choice of polish style for $100/month. What's cool and not so nice is how a subscription registration maintains you updated with the most recent brand-new landings, featuring a $15 price cut for members of particular online companies.

#acrylic nails #painting nails #nail salons

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smallgodseries · 2 years

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[image description: A chipper character wearing a red and deep blue plaid shirt and newsperson’s cap. They hold a bottle in their right hand and point at it with their left. The classic symbols for ‘Male’, ‘Female’, are entwined with a question mark — these symbols appear to be spinning differently on the bottle front than on its neck. Inside the thin golden bezel cameo oval that may (or may not) be shifting its orientation is an impressionist mix of magenta and blue. outside it, five colored horizontal stripes — Pink, White, Magenta, Black, and Blue.Text reads, “201, RIVER ALGOOD, the small god of the Gender Fluid”]

• • • • •

“Okay, kid, so you found the bar. Good on you. That means you need to be here. No, there’s no cover charge, and we don’t care how old you are—think of it as a public house or an inn as much as it’s a tavern. Or hell, go with coffee shop. That’s a modern way of saying ‘gathering place with drinks and plenty of chairs, where you can be yourself with other people who are also being themselves, and not need to worry about anybody seeing you.’ This idea that bars are only about the alcohol is a lot more recent. But then again, so is clean water.

“Huh? Yeah, I do talk about it like I was there, because kid, I always have been. Go all the way back to the creation, to the first people we’d recognize as humans, standing there all hairy and muddy and naked, and there were always the ones who felt like they were one thing when people said they were something else, or who were something different today than they were yesterday, than they’d be tomorrow. You’re nothing new.

“Honey, you don’t gotta look so scared. You’re here. That tells me you belong here, and that tells me you’re one of mine. If you weren’t, you’d never have found the doors. I’m not going to judge anything except that nail polish—it looks like you didn’t use a base coat, and it’s going to stain your cuticles. But you’re young, you’ll learn how to do your nails without dyeing your skin at the same time. Unless ‘necrosis’ is the look you’re going for. In that case, you’ve got a lead on the competition.

“Anyway, you’re nothing new, and you’re something valid, and no one gets to tell you who or what or why you are except for you. All those choices are yours to make, all those futures belong to you, and I’m just the lucky god who gets to guide you along the way.

“My pronouns? Kid, I’ll take any pronouns you’ve got. I keep ‘em in a bucket in the back. Some of them can get kinda frisky sometimes, but they’re all good. If you need new ones, you can fish ‘em out of the bucket.

“Oh, which ones am I currently using? I find that ‘divine/divinity’ works pretty well for me. If that’s too much of a mouthful, you can use my name—River—or ‘they/them’ is almost never entirely wrong. But really, anything’s good by me.

“I am the god of the changing and the questioning, the malleable and the multiple, the ones who don’t conform, and the ones who won’t, or can’t. I belong to all of them, all of you, and I will keep you as safe as I can. It’s not easy.

“Nothing important ever is.

“So you found the bar. That’s the first step. Now here’s the question of the hour: what are your pronouns? Speak, and we can know each other better.”

• • • • •

Join Lee Moyer (Icon) and Seanan McGuire (Story) Monday, Wednesday, and Friday for a guide to the many small deities who manage our modern world:

Tumblr: https://smallgodseries.tumblr.com

Twitter: https://twitter.com/smallgodseries

Instagram: https://instagram.com/smallgodseries/

Homepage: http://smallgodseries.com

#small gods #smallgodseries #Seanan McGuire #Lee Moyer #icons and stories #gender fluid

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mypoisonedvine · 3 years

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𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 || soft!dark baron zemo x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : he’s a baron, you’re just the maid. you literally can’t afford to say no to him.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 3.5k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : smut (dubcon, oral m receiving, fingering, loss of virginity), innocence kink, ‘sir’ kink, quid pro quo harassment (raise in exchange for sex), zemo being kinda mean but then Soft again c:, slight degradation but it’s not verbal it’s like... with actions?? idk, sensual candy-feeding, more reconstructed sokovian (this time I used the cyrillic, latin and translations at the bottom)

You really, really needed this job.

That was what you reminded yourself when your boss, the Baron himself, came out of the master bathroom in only a robe, carrying a glass of vodka and staring down at where you were cleaning his floor.

He seemed to get a kick out of making you slightly uncomfortable like this, in those little ways that you were too naïve to really understand, but being a member of a Baron’s house staff was an opportunity too prestigious to squander.

Perhaps some would never see a maid’s job as prestigious, but compared to your other options, it was easily the best choice.

You didn’t look back up at him, afraid to see more than you bargained for, but his gaze made you want to tug down on the hem of your dress uniform… yet left you feeling paralyzed so you couldn’t actually do it.

He lingered there, standing right beside where you were polishing the hardwood, and the moment lasted far too long until you just had to say something.

“Should I stop, sir?” you asked awkwardly, your own voice sounding weaker out loud than it did in your head.

“No, keep cleaning,” he encouraged, finally stepping around you to take a seat in his lounge chair.

Even though you felt a bit odd about it, it wasn’t the first time he had watched you clean (just the first time while wearing so little), so you did your best to shrug it off and keep going, which you managed to do for a few minutes.

It got slightly more awkward when the area you had to clean was right by his feet, which made his staring all the more conspicuous as you tried to hold up your neckline so he couldn’t see down the uniform.

A crinkling sound caught your attention, and you looked up to see him toying with a wrapped candy, the lid off of the decorative silver vase on a credenza nearby. You’d always wondered what he kept in there...

He caught you looking, a smirk tugging at his lips as he raised an eyebrow. “A Turkish delight,” he explained as he waved the candy between his fingers. “They’re rather exquisite, and an unfortunate vice of mine. Would you like one?”

It seemed like an offer in earnest though you couldn’t imagine what would motivate him to share candy with his staff. His motives were always quite mysterious anyhow, and you didn’t see any harm in it, so you reached out to him and opened your palm to accept the candy.

He shook his head, his eyes getting a bit darker as their gaze pierced right through you. A sinking feeling filled your gut as you realized what he wanted, and you slowly opened your mouth.

He delicately placed the candy on your tongue, the flavor of the powdered sugar coating hitting you first.

When you closed your lips and hesitantly began to sink your teeth into it, the texture wasn’t what you expected at all— nor the flavor, which you were a little too poor to recognize as rosewater though you still appreciated the delicate floral notes.

It was delightful; you couldn’t help but smile as you continued to chew, and he smiled at you as well— significantly less mischievously than he could have. “Do you like it?” he asked.

You nodded, but froze when he reached up to wipe sugar off your lips with his thumb.

“I suppose you could never afford candy like that before,” he posited, sitting back again.

Swallowing the sticky remains of the sweet, you replied, “I don’t think I could afford it now, either, sir…”

For a second the glimmer in his eye made you wonder if you’d spoken out of turn, and you anxiously looked down to your hands in your lap as he leaned in a bit closer, speaking in a hushed tone. “Maybe you could, if you got a raise, hm?”

Confused about what he wanted from you, you simply nodded slightly.

“Would you like to earn one?”

Suddenly the aftertaste wasn’t so sweet anymore, and you got that strange icky feeling when you knew something was wrong but you didn’t know exactly what. “If… if a raise is a sign of a job well done,” you finally managed to form an answer, “then I’d like to do my job well, sir.”

“You do your job very well,” he assured, “I’m talking about a new job. Consider it… an opportunity for advancement.”

His hand reached down to slip around your wrist, gently pulling you up a bit until you were kneeling between his legs. You jumped a bit when your fingers grazed over his leg, and he kept moving your touch higher as he stared down at you. “I… um, don’t know how to do anything else, sir,” you stalled, heart racing slightly as you watched him guide your hand higher and higher up his leg, under the hem of the fluffy robe, past where you could see.

“I’ll teach you, don’t be afraid,” he whispered right against your ear, and you tried not to be but it was a bit scary when you felt him wrap your hand around his cock, so much warmer than the rest of him and growing harder in your palm.

A little, uneven exhale left your mouth when you didn’t mean it to, and he breathed along with you which helped to calm you slightly. “I’ve never… I don’t…” you stammered. “I’m not good at this.”

“You will be, it just takes practice,” he promised, sounding a bit more hoarse; you felt his precum smear over your fingers as he helped you stroke him, and it made your movements a little easier even if it made your gut twist harder.

He leaned back and relaxed in the chair, letting go of your hand to let you keep going on your own. It gave you a bit more room to breathe, but it left you with no excuse for your actions, no one else to blame when his legs spread and you saw his cock fully hard in all its pride and glory, flexing slightly in your hand whenever you reached the tip and moved back down.

Taking it as a sign you were on the right track, you kept going and occasionally gathered the bravery to look up at his face in search of approval. Each time you found him staring back at you with dark eyes, and it made you feel this most inexplicable feeling… almost like fear, but with something oddly pleasurable about it.

“You can use your mouth now,” he said like it was an offer, an allowance, but you didn’t even really know how to do that. You’d definitely heard about it before, from your more worldly friends, but your cheeks were heating up at the idea of trying and doing it totally wrong.

“Show me how, sir, please,” you requested weakly, and much to your relief he grinned widely.

“Okay, кошеня, I’ll show you,” he breathed, reaching up to cradle your face in his hand and guide you closer. “Open your mouth and I’ll put it in for you.”

You did as you were told even though it was definitely more intimidating this up close, thankful that you didn’t really taste much of anything when he put his swollen head on your outstretched tongue.

“Now close your lips and suck, not too hard, just like a candy,” he explained, hissing when you did your best to recreate what he said. You pulled back right away with wide eyes, thinking you might have hurt him.

“Am I doing it right?” you asked quickly. He seemed a bit irritated as he pulled you back down roughly, pushing his cock deeper into your mouth.

“Yes, you can’t stop until I tell you,” he explained. You wanted to apologize but that would’ve required stopping, too, so you just kept going and humming a bit whenever you tasted that slight saltiness at the back of your throat. “Блять, that’s right, see? I knew you’d be a quick learner.”

Happy to hear you were doing it properly, you sucked a bit harder and kept your lips slack so he could bob your head however he wanted.

When the tip bumped into the back of your throat, you gagged right away and figured you were definitely doing something wrong. But either he didn’t notice or didn’t mind, because he made you do it again and again— perhaps he even liked it, considering you heard a tense groan from above you and felt him hold your face a bit tighter.

“I’m going to come, кошеня,” he grunted, “and you need to swallow it all, okay? It’s worth a lot more than that expensive candy, I assure you. But don’t swallow it until I say so.”

You tightened your fingers where they clutched his thigh, since you couldn’t respond any other way. Not being able to breathe was beginning to make you light-headed, and the sounds of his quiet moans made a rare (but not entirely unfamiliar) feeling burn between your legs.

He swore a few more times, sometimes in English and sometimes in Sokovian, as he roughly used your mouth, and you didn’t realize he was coming until you felt it all threatening to spill out from your lips and around his member.

But you, being diligent as ever, were careful not to let a drop go to waste as he sighed and slowed down, guiding you slowly off of him.

As tempting as it was to swallow it already, especially since the taste was a little odd, you kept your lips sealed tight and blinked up at him, hoping the tears running down your cheeks wouldn’t bother him and waiting for further instruction.

“Open your mouth, show me,” he breathed, nostrils flaring as if he was angry (though you really hoped he wasn’t). He groaned proudly when you did so, sticking your tongue out and letting his seed gather there. “Блять, good job… you can swallow it now.”

You put your tongue back and swallowed, but you were a bit too slow and some of it dripped onto the floor first. He leaned forward slightly to look at it, tutting disapprovingly.

“That just won’t do, you need to clean that up,” he explained. You turned back to reach for your cleaning supplies but a hand on your shoulder stopped you. “No, sweetheart, not like that. With your mouth, same way you made the mess..”

“Oh,” you whispered, leaning down and lapping up the drops with your tongue, noticing that it was a bit closer to room temperature now which made it taste worse such that your nose crinkled at the flavor. Still, you swallowed it, too, and sat back up to look at him.

You wanted to ask if you did well, but considering the way he was smiling at you while he caught his breath, his exposed chest rising and falling along with that necklace he seemed to wear all the time, made you confident enough that he was happy with your work, and you smiled slightly.

“I think you’ve almost earned your raise,” he broke the silence, and your smile fell. There’s more?! “Why don’t you get up and bend over the bed.”

Your throat was a little sore now, so your shocked and empty swallow stung a bit, but you couldn’t help it; for all your inexperience you had a few ideas about what that meant.

“Sir, I—”

“Did I not speak clearly?” he snarled, making you cower slightly. “Get up. And bend over the bed. Pull up that little skirt for me, too.”

Even though an uncomfortable shudder crawled up your spine, you nodded and stood up, finding your legs a bit shakier than they should’ve been.

You’d made his bed a thousand times but never thought to lay on it, so you felt a little strange bending yourself over the edge, and you tried to avoid meeting his gaze as you reached back to pull your uniform up to your hips. You heard him hum but didn’t hear him get out of the chair, and you wondered if he was going to do anything at all.

“Are you… just going to look?” you wondered aloud.

“No,” he answered quickly, “I’m going to fuck you. But I’m going to do it on my own time. You can wait.”

And he sure did take his time, eating one more candy and finishing off his tumbler of vodka before he finally stood up and shed his robe; you felt his hands on your butt first, fingertips slipping under your panties delicately only to roughly tear them off. You squealed slightly at that, biting your lip to keep it down, but he heard you and chuckled as he slapped your bare ass.

“I knew you were hiding something lovely underneath your uniform, кошеня,” he sighed, “I may need to make sure you never hide yourself from me again. I always wanted to make you clean the house naked.”

Another spank made you wince and lurch forward, but another pang of heat hit between your legs, too— you hadn’t expected to enjoy this so much, but after all the anticipation you just needed him to get it over with.

Even if you honestly didn’t know that much about the ‘it’ he intended to do to you.

“How much do you know about sex?” he asked bluntly, apparently reading your mind somehow.

“Sex,” you repeated shakily, “is… something husbands and wives do…”

“Right,” he agreed, “but is that all you know? Do you even know how good you can feel?”

He didn’t give you a chance to respond, reaching down to slide his fingers slowly over your pussy, your legs quivering right away. When he focused on one spot, rubbing in circles gently, your back arched of its own accord.

“Have you ever touched yourself here? Made yourself come?” he continued, pressing down a bit harder until you whimpered.

“N-no, sir,” you breathed, squirming as you felt yourself approaching the edge of… something, something you never knew you needed.

But of course, he had to stop just then and push his two fingers inside you as you cried out. “Just that hurts you?” he realized, watching you nod and pout. “Oh, кошеня, you have no hope of taking my cock… you may not be able to get your raise after all.”

“Please, sir,” you whimpered, “I can take it, I’ll be good— please…”

He twisted his fingers inside you and your legs quivered but you were determined to prove you could do this, so you ignored the sting and kept on breathing, hardly capable of believing how deep his fingers reached.

A third finger made your eyes start to roll back in your head, especially when all of them curled against a spot that made your toes curl inside the sensible heels you were made to wear at work each day. Oddly enough, you found yourself rocking back onto his fingers in search of more, wanting him to push harder on that spot until you could finally reach that feeling you were blindly searching for.

“You need it so badly, кошеня,” he growled, “I’m trying to be gentle with you. Is that not what you want?”

“J-just a little more, please,” you begged, whining when he instead pulled them all out and left you painfully empty.

“I’ll give you more, don’t you worry about that,” he promised cryptically, and you gasped at the feeling of his hard cock pressing against your opening. You were so wet that as he slid his length over your folds, you coated him with your arousal in mere moments. “I think you’re ready for me, sweetheart.”

You, meanwhile, weren’t so convinced; your gut sank as you tried to imagine how something as thick as his cock would ever fit inside you, but he didn’t consult your opinion on the matter before he lined himself up and pushed forward.

He was kind enough to move slowly, leaning down to wrap your body in his as he filled you. His hands slipped around and clutched yours, and you genuinely couldn’t tell if it was meant to soothe or restraint you.

“Бля, ти така гарна,” he breathed, squeezing your fingers between his. You turned to rest your face on the silky comforter, a tear still making its way down your cheek which he tenderly kissed away. “Don’t cry, it’s all right,” he whispered. “I’m not going to move yet, just breathe. It’s not going to hurt much longer.”

Tightening your jaw and breathing through your teeth was the best you could manage at the time, trying your best to relax since every time you tensed up, it hurt more.

“Так тугий,” he hissed against your ear as he finally found the end of you and his hips met the back of your legs, “і все моє.”

He stayed still until the pain faded, though you still winced slightly when he eventually did move again, pulling back only to push forward and fill you deeper, if possible, than before.

You felt him hitting that spot again, the one he found with his fingers before, and your whines started to soothe into moans and gasps.

“See? I knew you would like it,” he whispered proudly, “I knew you’d take me so well.”

He trailed kisses in abstract patterns over your neck and shoulders, gentle at first but soon enough becoming wet and sharp with his tongue and teeth, the pace of his thrusts picking up along with it.

“Так добре, така добра дівчина,” he groaned, “fuck, do you feel how deep am I inside you, sweetheart? That’s how deep my come will be when I’m finished.”

Honestly, it was starting to feel so good that you couldn’t find the will to protest that.

“And then you’ll be mine forever,” he added, under his breath, so quiet that you could barely hear it. But you did hear it, and you couldn’t explain why it made you moan louder, or made your walls grip him encouragingly.

Your toes curled again, your legs even started kicking a bit, when he slammed into you every time, the sound of his skin on yours and of your drenched channel being filled echoing around the ornate bedroom. Thoughts of everything wrong about this were banished as your mind became a blank slate, you couldn’t even form words anymore (not that you were trying to) as your mouth fell slack and your body became a pliant vessel for his desire.

The edge was so close now, and you wondered if you should try to stave it off— but before you could even consider it, he bit down on your shoulder and you were pushed right over all at once, gasping his name as pleasure overtook you from your head to your toes.

“Good girl, keep going,” he instructed roughly, “don’t stop coming for me.”

You couldn’t if you tried.

Tears fell again, but for entirely different reasons than the first two times. He whispered praises in your ear, in a few languages you understood and a few you didn’t, keeping you falling into it as long as he wanted you to. You were so helpless to him now, your body going limp and your eyes fluttering shut, and you didn’t even mind it at all.

It went on for quite some time, it seemed, and though his stamina was impressive it was entirely unnecessary since you had already exhausted yourself of whatever maximum number of orgasms you could have in a row.

Finally, his desperation started to kick in and you could feel him getting rougher and losing his rhythm as his moans got louder yet deeper. “I’m about to fill you up, кошеня, are you ready?”

You barely managed to nod through the fog, and it only took him a few more seconds before he squeezed your hands just a bit too tight and stopped moving. There was a little delay before you felt the heat of it inside you, the feeling impossible to describe but instantly addictive. As if you weren’t already feeling full before, now you felt stuff to the brim, and even when he pulled out you could still feel it— even when most of it seemed to drip down your thighs.

“There you go again, making another mess,” he sighed, “and this time on such a lovely comforter… I won’t make you lick it up this time, you look too pretty laying there fucked-out and braindead.”

Those words probably should’ve encouraged you to move and prove him wrong, but instead you were happier than ever to just lay there and soak in the afterglow.

He laid beside you on the bed, pulling your body to rest on top of his, stroking your hair while he caught his breath. “You won’t just be getting a raise, sweetheart, but a very important promotion,” he mumbled.

As enticing as that sounded, up until that moment you’d forgotten about the raise entirely.

кошеня = kitty/kitten

Блять - fuck

Бля, ти така гарна = fuck, you’re so beautiful

Так тугий, і все моє = so tight, and all mine

Так добре, така добра дівчина = so good, such a good girl

#baron zemo x reader #helmut zemo x reader #baron zemo smut #dark!baron zemo x reader

2K notes · View notes

titanicsimp · 3 years

Note

Could you write some smut reader/Zeke/Levi? Btw the one reader/Zeke/Reiner/Porco was ✨✨✨🤤👀👀❤

I worked on this fic for a MONTH thanks to my fever brain <’3

Zeke Yeager x female!reader x Levi Ackerman

cw: threesome, oral sex, vaginal sex, anal sex, creampies, backshot, double penetration, fingering, biting/marking, rough sex, clit slapping, face slapping (once), spit kink, very minor injury (cut on lip), slight angst

The scent of smoke fills your senses with every soft puff of breath he lets out along your neck, his lips trailing along it like you are made off of the nicotine he’s so addicted to. As his hands dip below the fabric of your shirt, you can’t help but wonder how you ended up here, meeting in the middle of the night in a lonely storage space, in the arms of a man who by all means should be the enemy.

When his lips find yours, you can taste the answer on them. You had been lonely, so lonely. The man you loved had long made it clear he had no intention of being with you, he barely spared you a glance most of the time. When you had confessed how you felt, he had flat out rejected you, no reason had been specified outside ‘I can’t.’. Zeke was the exact opposite of him, not only as a person but also in his interest in you. He didn’t avert his eyes when you passed by, he didn’t give you cold stares, instead he gazed at you with lust without any hesitation or shame.

Was it weak of you to give in to this morally corrupt man so easily? Probably, but you were sick of spending the cold nights on Paradis alone, and Zeke was more than willing to keep you company.

Zeke’s touch feels wrong, yet it awakens a fire inside of you. Every spot he touches seems to tingle with anticipation, and you sigh into the kiss. Had it been so long?

Too lost in your thoughts to hear the jiggling of the doorknob, you are unaware someone has just entered the room, the feeble lock having easily given in. By the time Zeke notices, his hand has already been snatched away from under your shirt, his normally great senses having been slowed by his arousal.

“Do I have to cut your hands off again, beast?!”

You look on in shock as Zeke’s hand is forced to his back, and a knife is brought to his throat. You recognize the voice instantly, you have spent too many years around him not to. “Levi!”

“You think you can assault one of my soldiers?! You think you can lay your dirty hands on her?!” Though you can’t see his expression from behind Zeke, his voice lets you know he’s furious.

Zeke huffs but doesn’t move, an irritated look on his face at the interruption. “I think you have the wrong impression here. This wasn’t my idea.” His tone is smug, provoking Levi to dig the blade into the skin of Zeke’s neck.

“He’s right!” You say quickly, your hands quivering by your side. Though you would prefer to just disappear at the moment, you need to speak up before it gets even further out of hand. Out of all people, why him?!

The knife retreats from Zeke’s throat, leaving a single scarlet droplet in its wake. His lips quirk up slightly into a smile, smug at the short freeze he had noticed from the man behind him.

You want to avert your eyes when Levi steps out of Zeke’s shadow, but you don’t want to be disrespectful, not more than you already were by messing around with the enemy anyway.

“What did you say?” Levi asks, steel eyes commanding you to repeat yourself.

Your throat feels dry out of nowhere as your gaze locks onto his. “I said that he’s right. What you saw was my idea, captain.”

His usual stoic expression twists to one of hurt for just a brief moment, disappearing within seconds. He regained his composure so quickly that you question whether you actually saw it or were just imagining it.

Levi returns his knife to its sheath, eyes burning holes into your form. “We’re leaving.”

You blink in confusion, looking from Zeke to Levi and back. “What? I know what Yeager has done, but I wasn’t aware that interpersonal relationships aren’t allowed, seeing how things were going with-“

“It’s not about that!” Levi barks out, making you flinch. You had seen him angry like this only a handful of times, and only in situations far worse than this.

Zeke comes closer to you, facing Levi with a shrug of his shoulders. “Seems like y/n wants to stay with me.”

This whole situation is growing more awkward by the minute. Normally you would go with Levi without a second thought, but now you found someone that desires you you don’t want to give it up that easily. The thought of spending another 6 years of your limited life alone makes you stand your ground.

“You can have her,” Levi says, causing your heart to plummet to your stomach.

“When I’m six feet under the ground.”

You stare at Levi. His expression and voice have calmed down, but his anger seems to roll off of him in waves. Should you be happy? More than likely this has nothing to do with you, and all with the promise he made to Erwin.

You fiddle with your skirt uneasily. Gods, how could you be doing this? What a betrayal to all who have fought and died by your side these past few years.

Zeke glances over to you, taking in your nervous form before sighing. “I’m not sure if it will wreck your little soldier, but I don’t mind sharing.”

If you weren’t absolutely frozen in shock, your jaw would drop to the floor. Your turbulent thoughts are instantly blown away by Zeke’s words, a whole new moral conflict arising. Heat rises to your cheeks at his suggestion, the word choice of ‘wreck’ making your knees embarrassingly weak.

Levi grits his teeth. “I must have knocked some threads loose last time we fought for you to even suggest such a thing.”

His rejection doesn’t surprise you in the slightest. He didn’t want to sleep with you when it was just you and him, so now with Zeke here? No chance.

Zeke takes off his glasses, examining them in the light of the lantern before polishing them on his sleeve. He’s practically oozing disinterest, which you are guessing is the point. “I understand. You don’t want to do anything that will leave you embarrassed.” He says.

Levi stares him down, but Zeke continues casually polishing his glasses. “What are you implying?”

You look at Zeke, shaking your head slightly. Just drop it, this is madness.

“I don’t think I need to tell you what I’m implying.” He sighs when Levi doesn’t say anything.

“Just stop!”

Their gazes both snap to you after you yell. Your fists are balled, form trembling slightly from embarrassment and adrenaline. Sure, the prospect is exciting, but it will never happen, and at this point, you are starting to feel humiliated over the continuous rejections from Levi.

“I’m leaving.” You tell them and start walking towards the door, adjusting your messy shirt on the way. Levi tries to grab your arm when you pass, but you slap his hand away. “Alone.”

You already have the doorknob in your hand when the wood of the door shakes with impact. Wide-eyed, you look at the boot that’s keeping the door shut. The owner of it gazes at you with a conflicted look. “If you want to stay with him, stay.” He spat out the word ‘him’ like it was poison on his tongue.

Your gaze travels up his form and to his face, confusion written all over yours. What is this pushing and pulling? Stay, leave, which is it?

“Y/n, come.” You look back, seeing Zeke beckoning you with open arms, his glasses back on his face.

You chew on your lips, glancing between the two men once again. Levi drops his gaze, avoiding your questioning eyes. Ah yes, that’s how it is, isn’t it? The previous moments were exactly that, moments, and they had passed now he had come back to his senses.

Slowly, your hand slips from the doorknob, and as it does you can sense Levi tensing up next to you. Not daring to look at him in fear of conflicting your heart any further, you go back to Zeke. As you stare at your new lover with a stinging heart, you hear shuffling behind you. When you turn your head you find that Levi has propped an old chair under the doorknob, closing the storage room off more effectively.

“You didn’t think I was going to leave her with you, did you?”

What? Your mind races as Zeke pulls you closer, hugging your back to his chest and his fingers finding your chin. Levi is... staying? You are given no time to process what this means as Zeke’s lips press against yours. He drags you into a wild kiss, forcing your mouth open by your chin so he can push his tongue past your lips. One of his legs pushes yours apart from behind, your skirt hiking up on his knee. You squeeze your eyes shut in embarrassment, the person you admire the most watching you get devoured by another man.

Zeke pulls away from the kiss slightly, leaving his tongue sticking out so he can show off the string of saliva connecting it with yours. He glances at Levi from the side, keeping you panting in your position. “Let’s get to it then, if you hadn’t interrupted us I would’ve already been between her legs.” Heat creeps up your neck at his crude words.

“Bastard.” Levi curses under his breath, sharp eyes finding yours. You can’t place his look, there’s anger there for sure, but also something else.

After Zeke’s little display, you are expecting him to leave the room any second and have him never want to look you in the eye again, but instead of doing that, he starts undoing the straps of his uniform.

It’s impolite to stare, but how couldn’t you? In all these years you’d never seen him anymore bare than in his nightclothes, and here he was, getting ready to strip right in front of you. Taking advantage of your distracted mind, Zeke swiftly pulls up your shirt, exposing your bra to them and making goosebumps rise on your skin from the cold air. As Levi’s eyes trail over your chest, you regret your choice of bra. It has a very low-cut cup, barely covering your nipples.

Zeke’s one hand remains on your chin as the other snakes up to the exposed flesh of your breasts. You shiver when he traces a finger just above the edge of your bra. “You even wore something nice for me? I’m honored.” Zeke presses his lips to your ear but still says it loudly enough for Levi to hear. You really had. It’s not like you had a ton of fancy underwear laying around, 98% of it were practical ones that weren’t exactly eye candy.

You gasp when Zeke backs up for a second and swiftly pulls your shirt off completely, forcing your arms up. He easily catches your wrists together in one colossal hand, keeping your arms up to ensure you can’t cover yourself.

“What do you think, Levi, should I take off everything?” Zeke asks, amusement sounding in his voice.

Your wide eyes move to Levi, a frustrated expression showing on his face. You would’ve thought he wasn’t enjoying it if it wasn’t for the obvious imprint in his pants.

Zeke tuts at Levi’s lack of answer, freehand creeping down your stomach and to the fabric of your skirt. “You’re right, it’s better to take our time.”

He crunches the fabric up in his hand, slowly pulling it up more and more until your panties are revealed. His breath is hot on your ear, becoming noticeably faster when his fingers grace over the silk of your underwear. Your arms wiggle in his grip as his fingers tease over your heat, sliding past your clothed slit. The more pressure he puts against the material, the more your body heats up, and soon he can feel a damp spot through it.

You look at Levi through your lashes, lids low as you hang back against Zeke’s body and let him explore yours. The embarrassment has mostly faded and you allow yourself to stare at him to your heart’s content. You notice everything; the subtle twitches of his face, his widened pupils, the way he swallows heavily every time a tiny mewl escapes your mouth. All of it combined with Zeke’s touches is sending electricity through your body.

Zeke’s hand trails up slightly, leaving your damp panties to stick to your core. You turn your head to the side, giving him a pleading look to take them off. He tugs at your arms, making you stand straighter and causing your ass to bump against his crotch, letting you feel the noticeable bulge there. His hand dips underneath the elastic of your panties, causing your breath to hitch in your throat. The pads of his fingers cause shivers to run down your body as they glide over your mount before dipping between your legs. You open your legs slightly so he can reach you well, causing him to chuckle.

“Eager aren’t we?” He has a hungry glint in his eyes when they meet yours.

You lean into his touch when his fingers stroke over your slit, gathering your slick on them. He parts your folds gently with two of his fingers, his middle finger teasing over your entrance. Levi comes closer, lured in by the pants and whimpers falling from your lips. Heat rises to your cheeks as he stands in front of you, barely any distance between the two of you. He looks down at where Zeke’s hand is teasing your cunt, Zeke’s finger lightly pressing on your entrance before moving away once again.

Levi’s hands come up, cupping your soft breasts in them. You bite your lip as he rubs your hardened nipples through the fabric with his thumbs. His gaze shoots up as soon as a moan sounds from you, one corner of his lips quirking up. More moans slip past your lips as he rolls your nipples between two of his fingers, the thin fabric of your bra adding even more friction.

Zeke frowns behind you. All he got was a few whimpers until now, but Levi touches you and you are moaning like a whore. No, he can’t have that.

You cry out when two of Zeke’s fingers suddenly thrust into your tight heat, a wet squelch resonating throughout the room. You barely notice Levi’s hands freezing on your breasts as Zeke’s fingers curl inside of you, intently searching for the rough patch on your walls.

Levi grabs onto your chin, his other hand harshly fondling your breast. He isn’t pleased like when you moaned for him, far from it. His lips crash onto yours, catching your open mouth by surprise. The moans enticed by Zeke’s fingers are muffled by Levi’s tongue, both men groaning as you shake between their forms. This isn’t how you expected your first kiss with Levi, but you might just like it more, the desperation behind it intoxicating.

Zeke’s fingers finally find their target, and he notices instantly as your arms jerk in his grip, your cunt clenching around him. He pushes and strokes over the spot feverishly, and not even Levi’s mouth can muffle your moans anymore.

“You should feel how she’s sucking me in, Levi. I’ve never felt such an eager cunt.” Zeke taunts. Levi doesn’t answer, lips moving against yours so roughly that you feel like your lips will be bruised afterward.

You’re getting close, you can feel it as your whole body starts tensing, bucking into Zeke’s curling fingers. You aren’t sure if Levi means to add to it, but as his hand dips below the fabric of your bra, nail softly raking over your sensitive nipple, you feel yourself rushing towards the edge.

It only takes a few more strokes of Zeke’s fingers before you cum around them. Your legs buckle and tense as you orgasm, Zeke praising you and grinding his bulge against your ass. “That’s it, good girl.”

Levi causes you to yelp out in pain when he bites down on your bottom lip out of nowhere, breaking a tiny part of the skin. You stare at him in shock as he backs up, still shaking from cumming as you watch him wipe the trickle of blood away from his lip. Even Zeke wasn’t expecting that, his fingers leaving your heat quickly and forcing your face to the side. He examines the small cut on your lip even as you try to cringe away from him cupping your face with slick covered fingers.

“Don’t cum for that animal when your mouth is on mine.”

You look at Levi from the corner of your eye. He doesn’t seem angry or shocked with himself, instead, he seems pleased.

Zeke chuckles. “Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Levi.”

His grip tightens on your wiggling wrists as you try to get some space between the two of you. He tuts at you, making your eyes dart back to his. You can tell from his grin that the little sympathy he might have had just now has disappeared.

“Open your mouth.” He says. He can feel your jaw tense at his words. He loves how innocently wide-eyed you look at him while knowing full well that your cunt is throbbing at the idea of obeying him.

Slowly, you open your mouth, and Zeke’s fingers ease off of your jaw. When you have opened your mouth wide enough for his liking, he slides the two wet fingers past your lips, deliberately going past the cut. Your taste is mixed with a faint hint of blood, but you don’t stop to think about it as Zeke’s fingers press down on your tongue. While you are lapping at his fingers, he finally lets go of your wrists, letting your arms fall to your sides.

You hear Levi sighing close by. “Seems like you are all show and no action. Couldn’t have expected more from a circus monkey.”

Zeke’s eyes stay on yours, daring you to look away even as they talk. “It’s called foreplay.” He responds casually.

Seemingly satisfied with your suckling at his fingers, he slowly pulls them out of your mouth. Taking in your swollen lips, he can’t hold back the urge to make you look even more pathetic. He wipes his fingers off on your cheek, leaving your own spit on it. Is it embarrassing? Most definitely, but in a different way than normally. Something about their rough treatment makes your abdomen flutter in excitement.

Zeke suddenly pushes you towards Levi by your shoulders. “Entertain him while I get these tight fucking pants off.” Zeke grumbles and you can instantly hear him start fumbling with his belt.

Your nerves chitter as you look at Levi. His watchful gaze always makes you scared to make a wrong move. You want to be good to him, for such a long time already that the need to is practically overflowing.

Tired of your staring, Levi makes the first move, pulling your hand forward and against his crotch. Your eyes dart from the bulge you are cupping in your hand to his face. “I’ve waited long enough, take off my pants.” The slight tremor in his voice as he speaks and the pink color on his cheeks has your heart beating faster.

He lets go of your hand, allowing you to move it. You slide your flat palm along the imprint of his cock, making him part his lips in a pant. Making quick work of the button on his pants, you start sliding down the elastic of it, taking his underwear off with it. When his cock is exposed, he pushes your hands away, quickly taking his underwear and pants off completely. He glares at you as he takes off his shirt as well, hair getting tossed on the way. “Strip.” He tells you. The way he throws his clothes to the side is yet another surprise in this odd night.

You let your skirt fall to the floor first, then your wet panties, and lastly your bra. Shivers run up your body from both the cold and the nerves that course through your body as you are naked in front of Levi for the first time. He watches you for a moment, his length twitching excitedly against his stomach. You are watching him as well, but you aren’t sure where to look first. His chest is lean yet muscled, dipping down his in a delicious V just above his crotch. Not following where the V is going would be a shame, and so you eagerly eye his cock. It’s long, curved to the side just slightly with a girth that already ensures you that he will fill you up well.

Wetting your lips, you step towards him, closing the distance between the two of you back up. Reaching out, you wrap your hand around his length. It feels hot and heavy in your hand as you give it a testing pump. You hear Levi’s breath hitch when you look at him through your lashes, eyes lidded. As your hand pumps his cock slowly, he can’t help but tense at the memory of all the nights he spend imagining his hand was yours. Watching you jerk him off, your pretty face so close to his, makes him want to hold you, but also ruin you until you cry.

“Y/n.” He starts and you cock your head to the side slightly, showing that you are listening even though your eyes are trained on his cock again. “Turn around.”

Your eyes snap back to his, searching for what exactly he wants but finding only more questions at the intense lust he’s showing. Precum leaks from the head of Levi’s cock as you obediently turn around, still within reach just like he wanted. You swallow heavily as you are now faced with a fully naked Zeke, his hand eagerly pumping his cock. He gives you a lopsided grin as his thumb rubs over the head of his cock, making it twitch in response.

Levi’s fingers press down softly between your shoulder blades, instructing you to bend forward just slightly. It’s not necessary for what he’s planning, but after Zeke made it a point to show off, he intends to pay him back. You yelp when Levi kicks your legs open and one of his hands grabs onto your hair, roughly pulling at it. He thrusts his cock between your thighs, causing them to be even slicker by combining your already present wetness on them with his pre. Tiny mewls leave your lips as he slides his cock back and forth, the top dragging against your soaked heat. Your plush thighs feel amazing already, but just sliding against them is not what he intended. He grabs onto his cock with his free hand and pushes the tip between your folds. Your surprised look makes Zeke chuckle, cock still in his hand. Is Levi going to put it in? The question rushes through your head and you feel the tip of his cock catch onto your entrance.

“Not yet.” He groans, unsure whether he’s telling you or himself.

The head of his cock slips away from your entrance, his length now snuggly between your folds. Your wet cunt feels better than he could’ve imagined as it drags past his cock, everything about it beckoning him to take you already. Hand on your hair tightening painfully, he starts thrusting slightly as you squeeze your thighs to keep him near. Your heavy pants are interrupted by a moan every time his tip slips against your clit, sending pleasure through your body.

“Look at those pretty lips.” Zeke says, coming closer to your bend-over form.

His cock is glistening with his precum, the head of it flushed red. As he’s closer to you you can really take it in, and the size is startling. Gods, you already have Levi’s sliding against your cunt and now there’s another right in front of your face, this is insane.

Zeke observes the bliss that comes over your face with every thrust of Levi’s. “Your shortness comes in handy for once, like this she’s at the perfect height to suck my cock.” Zeke tells Levi, tapping his cock on your parted lips.

Levi shoots him a nasty look. How he can be so cocky is truly beyond Levi. It doesn’t matter though, it’s clear that you like him better, your body speaks volumes on that. His thoughts making him slide forward faster, his hips connecting with your ass in a loud slap. As you open your mouth to moan at Levi’s actions, Zeke makes little time of thrusting his cock into it. You cough and sputter as you choke on his length, being given no time before he greedily slides himself down your throat.

Tears form in your eyes as Zeke fucks your mouth roughly, your nose bumping against his trimmed pubes over and over again. Levi curses behind you, jealously stirring in his chest. He disgusts himself with how the sight of Zeke defiling you both angers and arouses him. You scream around Zeke’s cock when Levi harshly brings his hand down on your ass. He hits your soft flesh repeatedly, his cock twitching against your heat at every hit.

Zeke coos at you as your tear-filled eyes overspill, the stimulation from both sides becoming too much. His hand strokes over your cheek comfortingly, though he refuses to slow down his thrusts into your squeezing throat. You feel your ass sting from the continuous slaps Levi is landing on your ass, the pain mixing with the pleasure.

Levi stares down at the darkened skin of your ass, his handprints littered all over it. A smile twists onto his face, proud of his work and the way your cunt is drooling over his length in return. Meanwhile, you are still choking down Zeke’s length, the strangled sounds from your throat making it clear that you are struggling. Your sounds draw Levi’s gaze back to where Zeke is fucking your face just in time. Levi recognizes the look on Zeke’s face instantly, head lightly thrown back and eyes closed. Without a second thought, Levi uses the hand in your hair to pull you off of the other man’s cock. You gasp and sputter for air, just as surprised as Zeke as he curses. “What the fuck?!”

“I’m not letting you cum in her mouth, I’m still planning on coming near it.” Levi explains casually as he slides his cock out from between your thighs.

You are still hacking and coughing as the two men exchange dead glares. Will you survive this? You truly wonder as you regain your breath. It’s like being pulled apart between two forces, but you would be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying every second of it.

“Shit.” Zeke runs a hand down his face, stroking it over his beard. “We can’t take her like this.”

You look up suddenly at his words. Hold on a second, he can’t be tapping out now?!

Zeke gestures towards a sturdy crate off to the side. “Sit on that, Levi.”

Levi grimaces and you look between the two men, just relieved you aren’t being left like this.

Zeke sighs and waves towards the crate again. “Do it or I’ll shove my cock back down her throat, and this time I won’t stop till I’m done.”

You look at Levi, who despite looking slightly disgruntled, agrees and goes to sit on the crate. Zeke swiftly picks you up after, the muscles of his chest presses temptingly against your back. He only holds you for a second before he sits you down on Levi’s lap, having you straddle him.

You place your hands on Levi’s shoulders, a shy smile on your face. He can’t help but chuckle slightly at that, you are still unsure even as his cock is pressing against your cunt. Zeke comes to stand behind you, hands grabbing onto your sore ass. He makes you push it towards him before he spreads your cheeks, whistling at the sight of your dripping hole.

“Don’t know how you resisted all this time.” He comments towards Levi.

Levi’s eyes don’t leave yours, too enthralled by finally having you on him to have Zeke ruin the moment. “Hurry up already, shit beard.”

Zeke lets one of your cheeks go to grab onto his cock. “As you wish.”

Surprising both you and Levi, Zeke aligns himself and pushes into your cunt in one swift thrust. You cry out loudly, nails digging crescent shapes into Levi’s shoulders. Levi is caught off guard for a second as he watches your blissed-out face, and Zeke takes the opportunity to pull out and thrust in with force once again.

“Let’s see if you get the same sound out of her.” Zeke taunts, smacking your sore ass once before pulling out of you. It’s obvious to even your foggy self that he did it just to rile up Levi.

You are panting again, your body shaken by Zeke’s surprise. The walls of your cunt sting from the sudden stretch, but at the same time squeeze eagerly around nothing, waiting for more.

Levi cups your chin in his hand as the other goes to your hip. You watch his dull blue eyes shimmer as he shifts under you till his cock is poking at your dripping entrance. For a second, you wonder how different this would’ve been if he had accepted you sooner.

With a hard push to your hip, he thrusts you onto his length, forcing your spasming walls to accommodate him in one go. To Zeke’s disdain, you do cry out for the other man. Not just the sound either, you cry out his name excitedly.

Levi pulls you in by your chin for a quick, sloppy kiss. It feels so hot inside you, so tight, he’s losing his sense and that’s exactly why he was afraid to do this with you. After this, he won’t want to let you go, while the world may force him to do so. He can’t think about that now though, not while your lips are on his. In this moment you are here, and he will enjoy you fully.

With one of Zeke’s hands still firmly on your cheek, he pulls it to the side, allowing a clearer view of how your hole is stretched and stuffed around Levi’s cock. He feels his face flushing. Though he would’ve liked to enjoy your cunt for himself, this sharing has turned out pretty entertaining so far.

You gasp against Levi’s lips when Zeke presses the tip of his cock against your other entrance. Breaking the kiss, Levi keeps his hand on your chin, thumb rubbing over your bottom lip soothingly, careful to avoid the cut he made. “Take a deep breath.”

Your breath comes out in trembles as Zeke pushes past your tight entrance, his cock coated in your slick. You can feel every inch of him slowly sliding into your ass, causing you to whimper as you soon feel overwhelmingly full. The wall separating their cocks twitches as both their lengths slide against it.

“You took that so well.” Zeke says as his hand finds grip on your free hip. He brushes your hair away from your ear, leaning in closer till his warm breath washes over it. “Makes me wonder how many men you let fuck your little ass.”

You bite back a moan when Zeke bites the top of your ear softly and, unbeknownst to you, connects eyes with Levi. “What do you think, Levi? You are her supervisor after all.”

Levi’s jaw clenches and he drops his hand slightly from your chin. “Seems like I missed a lot.”

You swallow nervously at the angry look in his eyes, your holes involuntarily clenching around their cocks. Quick like always, Levi moves his hand to your neck in the blink of an eye. You quiver between their bodies as he squeezing down on the sides of your neck.

“Who else did you do it with?” He questions, his gaze not allowing you to avert yours.

You gasp as Zeke starts moving, dragging his cock out just a little before thrusting back in. He’s more than eager to add onto your punishment, your body still struggling against the intrusion.

Levi shoots a glare over your shoulder, but Zeke shrugs it off. “You feel how she’s squeezing down. Seems like your cadet likes it rough.”

You didn’t think your embarrassment could return in this situation, but it does. Your perverseness was already exposed, but now the full extent of it is coming out as they question it.

“Tell me who fucked you!” Levi snarls, his hand squeezing harder around your throat. The fact that it happened right under his nose makes his jealousy spark into a wildfire.

His cock twitches inside you at the way your mouth quirks up into a smile. You are enjoying this, aren’t you?

Switching tactics, he leans in closer, ghosting his lips over yours and sliding his cock halfway out of your heat. You fall right for the bait as you try to move in to kiss him, whining when he pulls away just before you reach his lips. “Tell me who.”

Levi can feel your throat moving under his hand as you start and stop speaking multiple times. Your eyes and mouth go wide when Zeke thrusts into you hard, making your ass sting all over again from the impact.

“Tell him.”

You nod your head up and down desperately. “Alright!” You yelp out as Zeke continues his sharp thrusts.

“Jean! Jean! Just a few times.” You say quickly, your cheeks burning up from shame.

Levi stays quiet for a moment, and you would have been scared if his cock wasn’t buried inside of you. He pulls you closer by your throat, examining your face. “Did he fill you like this?”

You want to answer, but your mouth is left hanging agape as Levi suddenly slams his full length up into you. Choked sounds leave your lips as he forces your hips to stay up as he joins Zeke in a harsh pace.

Zeke’s hands come around your front, fondling your breasts and soon squeezing your nipples with his fingers. “You sure have yourself a good slut here.”

All you can do is moan and cry out a jumble of their names as they fuck into your tight holes. Gods, have you ever felt this good before?

“I’m jealous.” Zeke grunts out, rolling your nipples between his fingers before giving your breasts a forceful squeeze.

Levi grunts as he watches Zeke squeeze your breasts together, his eyes glued to the cleavage it created. The sight makes him want to stick his cock between them, but that will have to wait for another time.

“Levi! Zeke! Ah!-” You mewl, your slick dripping down Levi’s cock as you bathe in the pleasure of being pinned between them.

Zeke and Levi look at each other, and though they couldn’t be more different, the two men understand each other’s gazes perfectly at this moment. Stilling inside of you, Levi makes your hand clamber desperately down his shoulders and chest.

“Levi, please!” You whine, attempting to move your hips but being hindered by Zeke’s restless thrusts, his hands having left your breasts to hold your waist instead.

Just as Zeke’s cock slides out of your tight hole till the tip, Levi thrusts up into you, filling you completely. Your eyes roll back from the pleasure as they switched up the pace, one now pounding into you while the other pulls away.

You barely even realized that Levi’s hand was still on your neck until he removes it, making you sigh under the relief of the pressure. “I waited so long, assuming you would break under my touch. But look at you now.” He grunts out.

Zeke chuckles as he bends forward to run his tongue over the length of your neck, causing you to shiver. “That’s on you, Levi. I saw it right away.”

You can feel his voice vibrate against your skin, lips so close you can feel them slightly ghost past when he enunciates. “Though I have to admit, the extend of it surprised even me.”

Your hands run from Levi’s pecks to his firm abs while Zeke’s broad chest presses against your back. The slaps of their bodies hitting yours resonating beautifully throughout the room. How did you get so lucky to be sandwiched between these men?

You bite your sore bottom lip as you feel the coil in your abdomen start to tighten. They too can tell you are getting close, your hips clumsily moving in search of more friction.

One of Levi’s hands moves between your bodies, slender fingers quickly seeking out your swollen clit. Screams get caught in your sore throat as he rubs agonizingly slow circles over your clit, his fingertips never faltering in the precise movements.

“Shit.” Zeke curses out behind you, thrusts growing sloppy as he feels your body starting to quiver from your incoming orgasm.

Levi’s free hand grabs your face, squeezing your cheeks together, his lips quirked up in a lopsided smirk. “You hear that? Shit beard over there is about to cum.”

Your chest heaves heavily with your moans as Levi’s fingers work your clit faster, causing your holes to clench around their dick tightly.

“Bet you’d like that huh? Have him fill your ass with his cum?” Levi asks mockingly, squeezing your cheeks tighter.

His cock can’t help but twitch inside of you at the sight of your pathetically blissed-out face.

“Mmhm! Yes!” Is all you can cry out, so close to your release.

Levi releases your face, his eyes seemingly growing more darkened with lust by the second. Without warning, he moves his hand away from your clit slightly only to bring it back down with a slap. You squeeze your eyes shut as you cum from the sudden sharp pleasure, your legs shaking at either side of his.

You barely register Zeke’s wild pumping into you or the way Levi groans out your name as your orgasm rips through your body. The stimulation of their touches only prolong your bliss, mewls, and whimpers leaving your mouth like a chant.

With a hard slap to your ass, Zeke brings your focus back on him. You are still cumming as he squeezes the soft flesh in his hand, thrusting into you one last time. He breaths out your name as he empties himself inside of you and the warm sensation of his release spreading through you feels sinfully good.

Zeke leaves his cock buried to the hilt inside of your ass till the last twitch, your tight hole objecting when he starts pulling out. You feel his cum leaking out and spreading over your cheeks when he has pulled out of you completely. His hands grip your ass tightly as he spreads it, groaning at the sight of your leaking hole. At every thrust of Levi’s, your tight entrance twitches and forces more of Zeke’s cum to leak out.

Levi’s fingers have returned to rubbing quick circles over your swollen clit while he fucks you, and the intense sensation after you have barely finished cumming has your eyes rolling back as you cry out his name in encouragement. “Ah-! Don’t stop,” your unfocused gaze finding his “More.”

“You want ‘more’?” Zeke repeats, mockingly mimicking your slurred tone.

He grips his still-hard cock in his hand, pumping it in his fist. “Do you want more of him, or of me?”

You can barely muster an answer as Levi bounces you on his cock, your body shaking with the need to orgasm again. “B-Both!” You choke out.

“Guess I have no choice.” Zeke chuckles as he positions the tip of his cock at your twitching hole. Even though this is the second time, you still pleasantly surprise him with the way you eagerly suck him in.

Levi can feel the way your cunt spasms around him when Zeke thrusts his length into you, your mouth once again opening in a wide O. He’s the one who made you cum, isn’t he? So why are you still so damn focused on that shit face?!

He calls your name, but your foggy mind doesn’t register it. You are too close again, and after cumming so hard already twice, you feel like this time you won’t be able to stop.

Slap

The side of your face stings slightly and Levi gives you a dark grin as your gaze connects with his, your eyes cleared from their earlier fog. “Don’t go drifting off on me now, brat.”

You nod your head, your arms wrapping around his neck. You are back to focus, but you hope he doesn’t think that will prevent you from cumming. The way that they fill you is just too good.

“You can’t blame her. Her slutty body is betraying her.” Zeke says as his mouth moves to your neck once again. You don’t think anything of it as his hot tongue glides over your skin, so used to their constant touches by now.

Levi’s fingers leave your clit, once again followed by a sharp slap. This time he doesn’t do it just once though, he repeats the slap three times before going back to rubbing the abused nub. The way your sounds and labored breaths hitch in your throat every time have him closing in on his end faster than he wants.

Zeke’s gentle lapping and sucking at your neck turns animalistic as he suddenly bites down at the juncture of your neck and shoulder and you yelp as his teeth dig slightly into the sensitive skin. It only lasts for a few seconds before he sucks a giant hickey on top of the bite mark, placing a gentle kiss on the bruise afterward.

Shit, shit. Trembles rattle your body as you drench Levi’s cock with your slick, cumming from the added pleasure of Zeke’s bite. You let your forehead fall against Levi’s shoulder, mumbling slurred words and moans into his skin, your tiny muscle spasms alerting both men of your orgasm.

Levi pushes Zeke’s head away from your neck. “What do you think you’re-” He stops his sentence, taking the other man in with narrowed eyes.

Zeke slows his thrusting, raising his shoulders in innocence. He’s about to say something, but Levi grabs Zeke’s attention by taking your face in his hand.

Their conversation has completely gone over your head, still tingling all over as the tip of Levi’s cock hits the sensitive spot on your wall repeatedly, dragging out your orgasm. The way they slowed down has you whine in displeasure as well as curl your toes at how it increases the intensity of each dragged-out thrust. The hand on your chin barely catches your attention, only truly noticing it when Levi’s voice pierces your thoughts.

“Open up and stick out your tongue.”

You do as he commands, your mind not even questioning it for a second. Levi chuckles at your display of obedience, you always were good at following orders. Zeke can make marks all he wants, but Levi knows who owns you on the inside.

Keeping a good grip on your chin whilst continuing to fuck into you, Levi observes your open mouth for a second before spitting in it. You mewl as he keeps your mouth open, watching his spit run down your tongue.

Zeke grabs you by your hair, forcing your face out of Levi’s grip and forcing it to the side. He groans at the mess Levi just made, your eyes growing watery as you moan with your mouth wide open. Zeke let’s go off your hair after noticing Levi’s glare. Shit, he could say so many things, but he’s close again, and he’d rather making a mess of your soft ass than argue with Levi.

“Swallow.” Levi orders when your face is turned back to him.

You close your mouth slowly, eyes staying on his as you swallow. A choked sound comes from his throat as he snaps his hips up into you, your hands flying up to grip the back of his hair.

“Fuck!” He curses. “Be a good girl and cum again, when you do I’ll fill you up.” He says, wanting to drag another handful of screams from your throat before he finally cums.

You nod your head, tears forming in your eyes from the intensity as both men desperately rut into you. Your holes spasm around them, your tired body ready to fulfill Levi’s wish any second.

Zeke’s forehead rests against the back of your head, his glasses fogging up from his panting. Every tremble of your perfect body pushes him closer to the edge.

“Z-Zeke.” He thinks he imagined it for a moment, but then your sweet voice calls out for him again. “Zeke!” One of your arms has left Levi so you can place your hand on the back of Zeke’s head.

You are pulling at both men’s hair now as your hips sway in a desperate attempt to ride their cocks.

“Levi!” You call out as well, the man busy clenching his jaw in an effort not to let too many moans out.

“Please! Please!” You beg, your fingers trembling as they grab at their locks. You scream out in pleasure, your orgasm interrupting your pleading. “I-” It’s so hard to talk, your throat feeling squeezes without any hand being near it. “I can’t take anymore! Please, cum!” You cry out, continuously interrupted by wild pants.

Both are happy to oblige, having had their fun in torturing you and now eager to give you your award. Zeke pulls out of your ass in one quick slide, pumping his slick cock in his fist. He’s the first to cum as he empties himself all over your ass and back, his cock jerking in his hand at the sight of your skin getting more and more soiled by him.

Levi presses a hard kiss to your lips before finally giving in to his release, making sure your beautiful eyes are on his as he lets go. You can feel every hot shot of his cum inside of you, your cunt clenching around him tightly. Zeke is just admiring his handy work from behind you as Levi fills you up for what must almost be a minute. Your hand in Levi’s hair twirls his soft locks between your fingers, your heart squeezing as your exhausted mind ponders he pend up he must have been himself.

You smile weakly as Levi kisses you again after he’s finished cumming. It feels appreciative, and he really does feel that way as he can’t remember the last time he felt so good.

Zeke takes in the way he painted your skin with his cum one more time before turning around to get his clothes, leaving you nestled on Levi’s lap. You let your head drop to Levi’s shoulder, not caring that his cock is still inside you as exhaustion nips at your body.

Levi strokes your hair gently, but his watchful gaze is glued to Zeke. It’s a good thing that Zeke is putting on his clothes because it’s clear from the look in the other man’s eyes that his presence is no longer welcome. Always the defying type, Zeke gives the side of your hip a quick tap before exiting the room.

“See you soon, y/n.”

After the door has shut after the blonde man, Levi immediately jumps to action. He moves you off of his cock, his cum streaming out onto your thighs and his lap.

“Shit.” He mumbles at the mess.

He kisses your forehead softly, making your lidded eyes look up at him. “You did well, but do this again and I will leave you like this for the other scouts to find.” He tells you strictly, hands coming up under your arms to lift you up.

You can only nod weakly, not able to find your voice anymore. Perhaps he’s a little mad at you, but you don’t regret it at all. Your lips twitch into a tired smile as you think, ‘yeah, I really did do well.’.

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