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#zeke yaeger x you
mrswint3rs · 3 months
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Can you do a Zeke one?
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𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲 ᯐ
pairings- Professor! Zeke x Fem! Reader
a/n- i love this man with all my heart // not proofreading bc if i do i’ll cringe and delete the whole thing
cw- Teacher x Student relations, fantasizing, some mentions of guilt, public masturbation, age gap (reader is early 20s / Zeke is mid 40s), unprotected sex, use of praise as always ❦
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In all his years of teaching, he’d never had a student quite like you. Never had he even considered looking at one of his students as anything more. Then you came along. Or rather, he did.
It was good to start a clean slate every now and then, to get a chance at doing something new. So he decided to take a sabbatical leave, temporarily parting from his home country.
It wasn’t the first time he had traveled to the states, but teaching there was a different story.
Seemed phyc was a more common course to take for a GPA raise rather than it was important. Most students didn’t take his teachings all that seriously, handing in the most atrocious attempts at an essay.
No one engaged in his lectures, even when he made an effort to make them more interesting and interactive. They all just lifelessly sat through each day, like his words went in one ear and right out the other.
Only you seemed to be interested in actually learning, laughed at his dry humored jokes when none of your other peers did. It was his only motivation to get through each day. He considered going back to his roots. It all felt sort of pointless, like he wasn’t getting through to anyone.
Sure his lessons and theories were a little old fashioned and boring at times, but he didn’t think he was all that bad. It was what he worked so hard through his youth for. He was pretty confident in all his knowledge and wanted nothing more than to provide his insight which you finally gave him a chance at.
You never skipped class, always turned in assignments on time, and you actually participated. Every question you’d be the first to raise your hand, most times you’d be the only one to do so. You even went out of your way to speak with him after class ended, either questions about the lecture or just to talk to him in general.
He knew he shouldn’t favor his students, but really he couldn’t help it.
You put so much effort into studying, and it showed in all your test results. Exams were a breeze for you because you actually heard him when he spoke. Always front row.
He looked forward to seeing you there, probably more than he should. And he absolutely despised seeing you talking to your other teachers. He could only hope he was your favorite.
It was that jealous build up that made him realize just how much you started to cloud his thoughts.
He started to favor you so much he could hardly see your faults. Any mistakes on your papers, he’d ignore, just to see you beam at his approval when it was handed back. Not that he needed any excuse to praise you, you were without a doubt at the top of your class even without his foul play.
In no way did you try to provoke him. You were a humble girl, just trying to get your credits. Yet he couldn’t help but wish it was something more than that.
The way you looked at him, as if waiting for something. He couldn’t resist the feeling of wanting you. And that want was gradually shifting into a need. No woman in his age group ever got him that needy. Only you and your possibly yearning gaze.
He grips his cock, stroking to the thought of you like a mad man after class. Nobody came into his office after lunch hours anyway.
He cusps his freehand over his mouth to silence his pathetic groaning as he fucks into his other one, closing his eyes tight and imagining you at the front of his class. Just sitting and listening to him so intently. You were so innocently enticing.
Just the thought of you doing something so normal was enough to make him lose himself.
It was so morally wrong and he knew that deep down. It only made it feel more thrilling, making him shoot spurts all over the underside of his desk.
God, he was a sick man. Completely thinking with his dick as if he was a teenaged boy again. He felt like he needed to be baptized or something.
But even with the aftermath guilt, his need for you was unwavering. He just didn’t know how to get closer to you. You probably didn’t see him that way. He didn’t think he fit the role of the ‘sexy professor’ that all the girls fawned over. He was just a dorky middle aged man trying to be what his parents wanted him to be. It was more than likely that you only saw him for what he was.
It was normal to have at least one teachers pet. You just tried harder than most to be successful. If you want something, you have to earn it.
You knew that all too well. Which was the real reason behind your commitment to his class.
Sure, you needed those credits and a straight grade, but those weren’t your main concerns. The second you stepped foot in that room and laid eyes on him, he became the whole focus point. He was beautiful and not in a self absorbed way, which was so rare. It was like he didn’t even realize how appealing he was, and you wanted nothing more than to show him.
Anyone could take notice of how awkward his lectures were. When he tried to interact and joke around and they were all so blandly silent. You felt bad.
Soon, you started putting yourself in front of him as much as you possibly could, becoming one of the only ones to make an effort to engage with the poor man. It was clear he was trying his best.
And he was an excellent instructor. You weren’t all brains, and his lectures made more sense than any of the previous. To you, everything he taught just clicked. You were fascinated by his witt, even his profound opinions. It was the only class you didn’t feel obligated to attend.
At first he was just eye candy. But over time you grew to actually appreciate his unique personality as well. He wore his heart on his sleeve more than he probably realized. You could read him like an open book. And it was especially clear how he felt in the way he looked at you, and that lopsided greeting smile when you looked back.
He seemed so happy every time you’d approach him after class. It was clear he was lonely. No one appreciated him the way you did, and you couldn’t understand why. It was beyond pity. You just wanted to see those blue-grey eyes light up, and for his smile to actually reach them.
And him in general.
You could hardly sit still at the sound of his voice going on about the ‘hierarchy of needs’. Well he was leaving out a major one.
You clench your thighs together tighly, shifting like you’re uncomfortable just for the friction from the seem in the crotch of your jeans, gnawing on your inner cheek like a dog with a bone. The last thing you wanted was to let a moan slip in front of everyone. Even you realize how desperate you were behaving. The man was just talking for fucks sake.
It was always so easy for you to take it in before, but now you’re not following what he’s teaching at all, only focusing on the rasp undertone of his voice. Imagining how it’d sound if he was buried deep inside you.
You orgasm so easily, making a mess inside your pants. You just hoped no one took notice of your writhing, and that he wasn’t looking at the way your eyes rolled back as you came so hard to the thought of him. Though a part of you wanted him to catch on.
Eventually your lack of ability to pay attention caught up to you. Your grades started to slip, which shocked him since you were doing so well before. He couldn’t help but feel concerned and he wanted to know the cause of the change. Which led you to being called into his office, with the door and blinds shut for privacy.
Where you always deep down aspired to be. Just preferably not for this reason. You never wanted to disappoint him.
“Have a seat wherever you’re comfortable,” he says, pulling up one of your recent works.
You pull out the chair in front of his desk, plopping down and looking everywhere but at him. Blatantly obvious you’re aware of the reason you were summoned.
“Forgive me for being vague in my email… I just wanted to check on you.” he says. “Lately you’ve been…sort of out of it. I just want to be sure you’re taking care of yourself.”
“No need to be concerned about me, Professor Yeager.” you immediately chime in. “I’ll pick up the slack.”
“I’m not as much worried about your grades as I am about you. You’re a very talented girl. I’d hate to see you struggle, especially on my account.”
“It’s not your fault,” yes it is. “You’re one of the greatest teachers i’ve ever had.”
And that’s one of the sweetest things he’s ever heard. He struggles to keep up his professional facade as those words come out of your mouth. Something he had wanted to receive throughout his whole career.
“Is that so?” he presses on. “Why is that? I fear i’m nothing short of the average.”
You breathe out, almost frustrated by his self undermining. “You’re anything but average, professor. In all aspects.”
You couldn’t be more obvious. The only way you were getting anywhere with him was by being flat out bold. Even if he turned you down, you couldn’t miss out on the chance to reveal yourself. It was nearing the end of his sabbatical leave. You knew he would only be there for one semester.
“In…all aspects?”
You wanted to curl up and die. You knew he was a bit of a loser, but thought surely he could take a hint. He had to have had a woman in his life at some point.
Instead of further delving into the details of feelings, you shoot your shot, leaning in to take his lips. No way to misinterpret that.
It finally clicks with him then. You wanted him all the same, came straight to him.
Next thing you know, you’re flat on your stomach, face smooshed against the smooth wood of his desk with his cock jabbing in and out of your drenched cunt. He didn’t have to restrain himself any longer, finally you were right where he wanted you to be. All those days of pumping into his hand were nothing compared to actually having you. Just as tight and eager as he imagined. He knew you were innocent on the outside, but nobody is ever fully innocent on the inside.
“Such a pretty girl,” he moans. “I’ve waited so long to have you like this.”
He hits that spot repeatedly, making you gasp for breaths. “s’ too good…” you mewl, your pussy practically swallowing him up whole.
“Thank you for being such a wonderful student,” he groans, hips stuttering as he feels you tighten around his length. “Taking me so damn good…”
“I’m so proud of you for how far you’ve come.” he adds, and you turn into a puddle. “All for me,”
He continues to rut into you, neither of you caring about the consequences. Your moans are so angelic to him. He wishes he could watch your face, look into your eyes while he fucks you. He just wants you to need him.
“Gonna cum, Professor!” you warn with a whine, only urging him to pick up the pace. He hooks his arm underneath you, rapidly rubbing your puffy clit to break you further.
“That’s it…” he pants. “Cum with me. All over my cock.”
“ Give it to me, please.”
You clamp down as you finally burst. The feeling takes you whole. Your mouth opens but no sound comes out. You feel your body tingling from head to toe as he fucks you through it, chasing his own release.
You’re put down to a breathless, whiny mess, unable to even see straight or think about anything but your teacher’s cock, stuffing you oh so full of his cum with no regard.
He keeps going until it’s overstimulating him. He didn’t want to part from you. Ever. But as it got to be too much, he forces himself to pull out, releasing a pitiful whimper at the separation.
But you looked so beautiful, sprawled out and twitching on his desk. He couldn’t control the hardening of his cock again. He needed a break, though he didn’t know how long he could last without your warmth again. He needed to have all of you for himself. He’d never be satisfied otherwise.
“Can you take me again?” he asks, not wanting to tire you out entirely. You still had class after this.
You babble out repetitive pleads for more in response and he has to grip his length to calm the throbbing. He couldn’t wait, even for five minutes. You had him completely addicted at the first taste.
“That’s my girl.”
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pisspope · 1 year
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Storm Warning (zeke x reader)
word count: ~1.5k (5 minute read)
cw: fem!reader, mention of suicide (extremely brief), general misogyny and themes of abuse (it's a 1400s knight au)
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He’s… not who you expected to win.
Not that you expected all that much when your father, the king, had announced a jousting tournament for your hand. You were his first child, but his only daughter, and your claim to the throne was tenuous compared to that of your younger brother. So of course the most logical answer was to marry you off for political advantage, give your innocence away to the highest bidder like a prized breeding mare. And you swallowed it, accepted it, because what other choice was there?
You watched the proceedings with feigned interest, waved your embroidered kerchief at potential suitors as they wiped grease from their visors, everything that was expected of you. But your heart wasn’t in it, because how could it be, knowing what awaited you? A future of pushing out heirs to some backwater fiefdom, watching in the mirror as your youth deteriorated along with whatever shreds of joy remained in your pathetic existence. Maybe you should just take a letter opener to your neck before it was too late.
But part of you remained morbidly curious, you supposed. You wanted to know who cared enough, who was devoted enough, suicidal enough to risk their neck for the taste of you. So you took your seat, left hand of the king, and watched as silvered men maimed each other for the glory of your hand.
You didn’t think the victor would be Ezekiel Yaeger.
You knew Zeke quite well, actually. Son of a major lord, smart as a whip, beautiful flaxen hair, absolutely fucking insufferable. You had spent a good portion of your childhood in the same study as him, vigorously writing mock political treaties and debating them in front of your tutor. Even now you could see the raw anger in his eyes when you caught him in a fallacy, the way his jaw would clench when you found loopholes that made his ideas obsolete. It was honestly a great joy of your childhood, to see his cheeks heat up in embarrassment, to be allowed to be more than just a pretty face, to use your tutelage in political affairs in a way that felt more worthy of your intellect. And his anger felt like an affirmation, that you were his equal in every way that mattered.
So to have him fight for you as if you were an object, not a person deserving of respect, angered you more than even you had expected. Had a stranger won, had someone who didn’t know you like he did win your hand, it would’ve felt less like an insult. Then you could keep your wits to yourself, request a private study or a library and never let him into that secret, bright part of you that made other men turn in disgust. Men were barbaric, distrustful of a woman whose understanding matched or, God forbid, surpassed their own, and you had long ago learned to keep that part of you hidden. But Zeke predated that revelation; you knew he could ruin you.
So now you’re here, confronting him in the stables after the tournament, dismissing servants and stablehands to make sure this conversation is private. And he looks different, baby face gone and covered by a scraggly beard, grey eyes skeptical instead of optimistic. He’s become a man, you realize, that boyish anger replaced with a simmering rage that he will always do his best to contain. Until he can’t, you think, until you become the object that he will vent his frustrations on, giving you bruises and beatings that you will try to ignore as his dutiful wife should.
“I can feel your eyes, you know,” he says, startling you from your spiral. “Always could.”
You breathe in, peek from behind a wooden beam, and strengthen your resolve. Your thoughts leave your mouth, unbridled and unfiltered.
“Why?” you snap, words pouring from your mouth in a steady stream. “Why would you, of all people, compete for my hand like this? Do you know how insulting that is?”
Zeke turns to you, puts down his helmet next to the stable door, and takes only three steps to meet you. He’s gotten much taller. He crosses his arms, looks down his nose at you, and sneers.
“This is sad. You’ve become a fool since the last time we spoke.”
You suck a breath in, try not to react to his words, but you already know by the look on his face that he’s clocked your anger. And he is reveling in it.
“You dastard. I thought you, of all people, would respect me enough not to fight for me like some sort of prize to be won.”
“Oh?” he says, pulling off his gauntlets finger by finger, feigning disinterest. “And do you think any of those Neanderthals would ever see you the way I do? Would deserve you, even as a trophy?”
You want to retort, but you’ve had the same thought yourself. A life hiding felt like an inevitability, but that didn’t mean it was something you were comfortable with. But a life with the boy with whom you did nothing but argue? Surely that was no better.
“I wouldn’t want to be bound to a tormentor, either.”
He snickers, flexes his bare hand. “I’ve grown since we last met, princess.” Then he grins, a hunger in his eyes you’ve never seen. “I can torment you in different ways, now.”
And you know what he’s insinuating, know it in parts of you that you pretend are untouched, and yet you let yourself fall for it.
“Yes? Like what?”
He takes your face in his naked hand, caresses your cheek with the pad of his thumb. Every second passes slowly, that little touch reverberating through you like a bolt of lightning. He brings the finger to your chin, presses enough for the bolts to feel like a whole storm, and leans in.
“Like this.”
Zeke presses his lips to yours, and if his touch was a thunderstorm then surely this was Noah’s flood. You can taste the salty sweat of the tournament still lingering in his kiss, the adrenaline of the fight pulsing in his heartbeat. His other hand, still in a gauntlet, pulls you close, the clank of his armor echoing in the empty stable.
And, to your chagrin, he’s good at this. Kisses you in just the way you need, his tongue just barely darting past your lips, teasing at what else he can give you if you just relent. And you want to, God do you want to, but you can’t let him have this, not so quickly. Your relationship with Zeke has always been a give and take, and the last thing you want is to give in so completely, to lose to him once and for all.
Blessedly, he breaks away before things can escalate further, his eyes the color of the storm raging in your chest. You know immediately from his expression that his claims to torment you are a double-edged sword; that the clouds in his eyes reveal the tempest in his heart.
You look up at him, your eyes daring, challenging.
“Coward,” you spit. “Torment me again.”
And Zeke has always loved a challenge.
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adalz · 1 year
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Lacrymosa - part 6
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pairing: Zeke x Reader ー Priest!Zeke x Angel!Reader ー Angel!Levi / Angel!Reader
chapter warnings: mention of violence and blood, mention of death and wounds, mention of war / sacrilege tw, yada yada
world count: 6.4k
a/n: Levi. That's it.
<< prev. part | series m.list | next part >>
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Someone was calling your name. 
Only no one upon these lands could have imitated its distinctive sound. Not in this way. There were only a few people who called you like that. Only one voice calling you with this intonation.
A familiar language that you had once dreamed of hearing on these lands. A voice that had resounded thousands of times on opaline surfaces and in too pristine halls. Now it echoed beyond the treetops, throughout the entire sky. It was calling you. That voice, so warm, so far away. Silver gleams already shining everywhere.
He was coming. 
You could feel him, souls trembling from being so far apart. 
He was coming, from the depths of the world. 
And all you could feel was him, deep in your bones. It was pulling at your insides, like the ocean draining away the waves before a tsunami. Inexorably drawn in, subject to a force too violent, that would engulf everything. You could hear his voice, loud in your head. 
He was coming, and as his wings struck the Surface sky, snow started to fall upon forgotten lands. 
He was coming, and with him, eternal winter.
Everything he saw, you saw in turn through his eyes. It was as if you were guiding his steps, as if you were the only one who could show him the way, towards the fire, towards the blood-soaked lands, towards destruction. As if you were the only one who could call him to you.
You could see the scenery flash before his eyes. As familiar landscapes appeared before him, you recognized them - you knew them from a dream. You knew them, but not from so high up in the sky. Then, you saw a mountain, you saw a cliff, edged by pines. From above, you saw the path, the one going towards the house. You saw traces of steps, hundreds of them, as engraved in the ground. 
Great wings beating hard, shattering the opaque air - everything was denser, darker that you knew. The world was bathed in an acrid smoke, which clung to the eyes and embedded itself inside the lungs. And when his eyes fell upon where the house was supposed to be, there was nothing but a raging fire. There was the shape of a house, there were memories of what it used to be. 
And the fire was burning everything. The stone walls had exploded under the weight of the burning old frame, sending huge embers crashing down. There was no floor, there was no roof anymore. Fire devoured everything. 
He knew. 
He knew it was here that it all took place. He could feel it as well, the pain enfolding, the distress coming from deep within his soul. He stayed there, above the blaze, staring at the flames, before closing his eyes for a moment, trying to focus.
“This way…”
His eyes glanced towards the forest. 
Silver wings started beating harder the air all around, making the treetops tremble and blowing the dust off the ground. There was no pain, all movements smooth and natural. Only stinging in his chest, sorrow, devouring and insidious. Only a voice, pulling from inside. 
Carefully, he set a foot on the Surface’s grounds. He took a step - and you could feel the dirt under the sole of his feet as if it were you who had walked. 
He was not frightened. He was not lost and confused as you once was; he moved forward, head high, wings wide open, invested with a purpose. And perhaps, in his walk, a certain habit emerged, that of treading the dust of the Surface. He started walking towards the forest, through the path of those woods you knew too well. And behind him, the blaze ran out of steam, the scorching flames suddenly feverish. The embers died slowly, devoid of heat. Frost already absorbing everything.
And with him, the world plunged in winter. 
Everything was still. Everything was immobile. Yet, there was a thing luring him forward, hasty and restless. A silent cry guiding him towards a familiar soul, towards a missing piece of himself.
And as he walked, the world died quietly. 
Through the trees, he passed by the mortals and their torches and their guns. Everything was still. The moment on hold. He passed by them, and their torches went out as he walked. He passed by them, and their bodies collapsed on the ground. 
That was the cost for laying eyes on a child of Ymir. That was the cost, for considering spilling their blood. He kept on walking, and as he did, lifeless bodies fell onto the ground, skin cold and death freezing on their lips.
Finally, he stepped into a clearing.
And as he walked upon the Surface, he recognized it, just like you did when you first saw it. A Temple to Ymir. The colonnades were still there but enclosed by walls. It was washed from its vivid colors, stained-glass shattered into a million pieces. 
He had always thought they all had been destroyed, all those centuries ago. That none of them still stood on their ground. But it was here, it was real. The last piece of the puzzle. - hidden away and forgotten. 
His eyes eventually fell on the shape of a body, lying in the high grass.
It was dressed in black, elongated limbs squeezed into a movement, twisting a body too tall. And only as he got closer, he saw the opaline face framed by light hair. 
At the sight of the face, something arose in him. Powerful, too raw for him to contain. It tasted like anger. Like a senseless hatred clouding his own judgment. A mirror to your emotions, mixed with his. It took him a moment to collect himself. To suppress it all.
As he stood there, he observed the mortal, the bloodstains on her untidy clothes. There had been a struggle, her collar had been tugged until it was torn. Her arm was stretched out, a broken wrist, reaching towards something. A little further away was a gun.
It was a cursed soul still throbbing in a broken body.  
He closed his eyes. You felt the sigh on his lips as he turned away from her.
And snowflakes crashed against the bruises on her face. Her breath died in the cold.
“This is it,” he thought. This was the cost they had to pay. The sweet liberation of death.
And as he walked closer towards the Temple, the pulling at his chest became stronger, like a pulse, pounding harder with each step. 
He abruptly stopped. 
All around him, late autumn flowers were stained in red.
Another body laid there, at his feet. 
A boy, he saw, his eyes closed, corners still wet from tears - they had marked his face in such a delicate way, wet trails, drawing sinuous paths on his dusty cheeks. Yet the fragility of the moment did not capture what was really on the young face. It was the pain engraved on the features. This was a boy, only a boy.
His white garment was pierced in a single place, right below his heart. From there, life had escaped, in a wake of blood, thick arabesques. A single shot, a fatal wound.
There was nothing there. A fragile life already gone. But there, against his clothes, were feathers. 
And so, he knelt beside the boy. Carefully, he brought his hand to the cold face. 
He didn’t know what compelled him to do so. He couldn’t fathom why there was such sorrow, why it made him sick to just look at him. Why it angered him so much. As his fingers skimmed over his frozen skin, he took away the grief and the pain from his soul. Freed him. When he finally stood up, his hands were shaking.
Time was ticking away dangerously. The seconds hanging in the hourglass, flowing dangerously to the bottom. His power was waning, quivering on his forgotten land - like a torn fabric, letting the grains of sand of an endless desert creep in. There was no time for grief, no time for mourning. It was here, so close. But there was no one else in the clearing. Yet he knew what he was looking for. He knew you were here. 
In the grass, under his feet, stains of blood. Blood everywhere. He followed it, and with each step, the sole of his feet turned scarlet. He walked in the shattered glass, towards the Temple. It had to be there. 
The facade was decrepit, the limestone ancient and stained by time. There were a few steps leading to a stoop, dug by the weight of the millions of feet having one day climbed the stairs. He stopped in front of a door that had been left ajar. It creaked as he pushed it open.
A few seconds passed, for his eyes to get used to the darkness. For his mind to capture what was inside. Pews, and dust floating around. An altar lit up by the sky. There was a gaping hole in the ceiling. The light coming from the sky was gray, the pale sun of the Surface hidden by dark clouds.
On the marble floor, footprints led behind the altar. 
He took a few steps, his own heart pounding harder than ever.
There, there was a shadow, the shape of bodies tangled together on the floor. Step after step, he walked towards them.
He discerned a mortal man. His back to him, body bent - every bone in his spine showing through his bare skin. It was a vulnerable position, to the slightest blow. His head was low - resting against the body in his arms, and his forearms were covered in blood. His face couldn’t be seen, only the strands of flaxen hair falling on the side of his face. He was holding someone tight, covering their face with one hand, as if trying to stop the blood from running away. 
It hurt. It was agony, just to look at the scene. The despair in which he was lost. The preciousness of the one within his arms. How willing he was to give everything away for a fragment of life.
And as he stepped closer, the attraction suddenly snapped within him. 
In his arms, there was you.
Finally, you thought - and it echoed in Levi’s mind.
“Finally, I found you,” he said.
“Finally, you came,” you said.
And you watched as he knelt down in front of you.
You watched what he saw. You heard what he thought. That mortal, blood spilling and spreading over his fingers. That impudent man, daring to touch you. That insolent creature, doomed for eternity for having laid his eyes upon you. 
But all you could see was a broken man, trying to make sense out of the chaos. A man, trying his best to survive. A little boy turned into a soldier, still believing that life was something to protect. A boy, trying to heal a wounded being. All you could see was Zeke. Zeke holding your dying body in his arms. All you saw was the distress on his face, the tears on his cheeks. Your Zeke, alone in the darkness. Losing everything all over again. 
You would have liked to reach out to him, to his body, to his skin. You would have liked to hold him tight, there, against your heart. You would have liked to cry out, to mourn the justice of this world. But you were a mere spectator of the horror, a messenger of a destiny about to collapse, the witness of a last moment. And Levi's hands remained still at his side. 
“He never should have touched you,” Levi said, and you couldn’t see his face as he spoke.
All you could see was Zeke. 
And if it was not love that you saw, you were the most miserable being in this universe. Because it was in the way he was holding you, so dearly, when there was no hope. It was in that pain, a gaping hole that you could feel resonate everywhere.
When Levi eventually made a movement, his hands came to you. Abruptly, he tore you out of his arms, out of his embrace. Zeke's body remained there, kneeling and broken, as if petrified, while you were already moving away from the warmth of his arms.
He carried you towards the altar, where the light was coming from the sky. There, he could almost feel the wind on his face.
“That’s where I fell,” you murmured in his mind.
“I searched for you everywhere,” he whispered. “I searched in every sea, every ocean, in every bottomless abysses. On every battlefield I went, and among the bodies of dead soldiers, I was looking for you.” 
“I waited for you to come. But you never did.”
Through his eyes, you watched as Levi looked at your face, as if for the first time. He looked at the wound. He may have winced. You understood the fire and the blood covered world. You understood that she had aimed at your face. 
With the softest caress, he touched your forehead. 
And then, like a song played in reverse, he watched as the wound healed by his touch, as the blood flowed in reverse and as your skin closed under his skin, like sand blown by the wind. He waited, for what seemed hundreds of years, until your mind would let go of his.
He felt it giving in. He felt your skin getting warmer under his fingers. He watched as you opened your eyes. 
The prettiest eyes he had ever seen.
And when you opened your eyes - heavy, so heavy - Levi was here, before you. 
It was him, truly him. His face so real - and the joy of finally remembering washed over you. All the memories came back, as if you had run after them after they had started to evaporate. It was like chasing the birds in the sky, like cupping the butterflies in your hands before they were to flutter too high. 
You sighed with ease.
“But you’re here now,” you whispered.
And his eyes, that silver color that always made you feel safe, suddenly closed. Long and dark lashes, drawing shadows on his cheeks. 
When he opened his eyes again, they were shining bright. His jet black hair, always carefully tucked behind his ears, were falling on his cheekbones, hiding the sight of him.
“I thought I had lost you.”
You didn't let go of him while he told you, you had to hold him, always, never letting him go. He stayed like that. He talked. He talked, talked to himself. You listened attentively to a somewhat incoherent monologue, without importance. As for you, you listened to his memory starting up, apprehending hollow forms that made sense only for him, if you considered the memories ones to the others - like a game with lost rules.
You had waited for this for so long. So long, to hear the sound of his voice, the sweet ricochet of your names on his tongue. He said it again, and again and again, to make sure that it was true. That it was real. That you were real. 
It was real.
All of this was real. And it hit you, like a slap across the face. That it was all real, that outside, there was nothing but blood under the snow-covered world.
Your eyes suddenly snapped back towards Zeke. There, his body still in the darkness, frozen in time. 
Before you could say a word, Levi mumbled against your shoulder, “Let’s go home.”
Home. 
You had dreamt of those words. You had dreamt of it. 
There had been so many sleepless nights. So many questions, so much anguish. What if no one ever comes? What if they all forgot about me too?
But then had come the truth. The sacred texts and the strange beliefs. Then came affection and warmth. And with that truth, came peace. 
It was impossible. You could not leave everything there, not like that. Not yet. 
“I can’t,” you said.
Levi’s head jerked up, to stare at your face. 
“What?” His face was stoic, only the furrow of his forehead betrayed his thoughts.
“I can’t go back, after being here for so long.”
“Yes, you can.”
“No, Levi, I can’t.”
Suddenly, Levi stood straight. For a moment, you looked into each other's eyes. 
“What do you mean?” he asked, and his eyes were fixed in yours, looking for a sign, for an explanation. The weight of the words hard to grasp. “Is it because of me? Is it because I couldn’t find you?”
And you wanted to tell him it was all right, that it was not his fault. But that would have been a lie. If he had come sooner, things would have been different, perhaps. If you had known the truth, all along, things wouldn’t have been the same. It was not his fault, neither was it yours. It was just the world you were born in.
Carefully stroking the side of his face, you said, “I can’t leave him there.” 
And with these words, you slowly parted from his body. You walked around the altar, in this moment suspended between those two worlds. You knelt down in front of the man that had held you, the one that had kept you alive. The one that swore to protect you. 
Zeke’s face was imbued with such great despair. His sweet face, stained with blood and loss. And you wanted nothing more than to hold him in your arms, for eternity. To make sure he was safe, and that life was treating him fairly. That those wounds he had suffered wouldn’t kill him. That nobody would hurt him more than he already was. 
“I can’t leave him like that,” you whispered.
Selfishly, you would have thought that he would understand. Surely, he would understand. Surely there was hope. You looked up at Levi.
But his eyes were shining with something dark. All these emotions on his face, they were all new. 
He had stood up from where he was. He took a step. And as he walked, his face lowered dangerously. Snowflakes slid slowly behind him, across the ceiling.
“What did he do to you?” And his words were nothing but a deep whisper. A warning.
You stayed there, knees against the cold stone, in this Temple forgotten by time.
Some part of you wanted to rush towards him, to grab his hands. Words formed on your lips, around your tongue, excuses, only excuses - trying in vain to find something to say. Something to make him understand, quickly, something to erase that look of pure disgust. Something to bring him back to you. Something to make sure he was the same, and you were the same, and nothing had to change. Anything.
Nothing but the truth came out of your mouth.
“He saved me. He saved me when no one else did.”
He was getting closer, eyes dark. Inside your chest, you felt your heart for the first time in forever, pounding too hard.
“I gave him everything I had because he was the sole reason I was alive. Because he was torn and fragile and he showed me love like no one else ever did-...”
One syllable, filled with rage. It echoed everywhere. A beast’s roar. He yelled, a single word.  In denial.
At that very moment, you thought “So it’s all true.”
Not only Zeke had been right. Humanity was.
Because you saw something in his eyes. Something so violent, so sharp, you felt it piercing through your heart. You saw it all, glimpses of things you would have never imagined running upon his face. He was looking straight through you, and all you could see was it - the violence of his stare.
So you led in, caught Zeke’s body, brought him against your chest. Your hands tightened around his shoulders as you looked back at Levi. 
But before you were nothing but these silver eyes. Gleaming back at you, casting a gloom over the world all around. In his back, glorious wings, stretched open, so wide, wider than you could even remember. Taking all the space between those walls. Hiding away the sunlight. 
Those wings, taking him places you could never have imagined. Always, always shining so bright. But the truth was covered in blood.
Humanity had been right all along. Their stories might have been different from the ones you’d been taught, but they were right. All you knew was nothing but fabricated lies.
It was true, yet very violent to fathom. But as you stood there, kneeling in front of this man, you suddenly understood.
What they meant, all this time.
That Levi was the Angel of death.
It was a stranger standing before you. It was a threat; it was an enemy. All that you could see was death in his eyes. It was hatred and disgust. And you never really knew him. 
You never really knew anyone. Because they kept on lying and lying and lying to you, about the Surface and the world and Mankind. You weren’t even sure that you could fly nor that the pristine halls of Paradis ever existed. 
Seconds went by, and you were nothing but a mere child under his stare. You could have cried, pleaded, and begged, but did none of it. You felt sick in your stomach. On the verge of dying.
It was as if you had forgotten how to breathe. As if your own life was running through your fingers. As if he knew everything, every fragment of your soul and your deepest desires. And under his stare, there was nothing, nothing, you could do. Those eyes you remembered so full of affection were long gone. Standing before you, a man you’d never seen before. There was so much to ask, so much to confront, the contradictions and the lies. But you were quick to realize, at this moment, that the Goddess never made gentle children. 
All of you were sinners, as your once humanity cursed you to be. 
Savage brothers and sisters.
Five words echoed in the Temple. Through his gritted teeth, spitted out like venom, he pronounced five words, enough to ground you back into the world.
“I will slice his throat.”
And there was no such thing as pity in his eyes. His jaw was set, the joints of his fingers going white around the grip of a blade - a weapon you suddenly remembered him wielding. Long and sharp, beveled blade. Holy weapons, called to their bearer side by their will only, granted by the Goddess Herself to Her children.
It all came back to you. The day of the attack. What happened before the fall. 
You remembered coming out of a stupor when the first blow sounded against the doors, echoing in the empty and quiet halls. Before you knew it, you were standing in front of them, so massive, your spear in your hands. 
You remembered fighting with your own weapon. Sharper and deadlier than an arrow. Piercing the flesh, nailing the bodies to the ground. All of it, so vividly, the blows knocking them down. It was something you knew how to do. It was something engraved within you.
In your back, wings started fluttering painlessly. You raised your head to him, ignoring the blurred world all around you. And instead of the shaking words you thought you'd pronounce, there was a raging shout.
“Then I’ll kill you.”
His wings began to beat, blowing the dust and flakes into your face. But instead of keeping your head down in front of him, in front of his power and strength, you stood up, Zeke's body heavy in your arms. There, right up against you. Where nothing could ever take him away.
“I'll bleed you with my own hands on those cursed grounds if you take one more step.”
Levi was staring at you, his disgusted eyes everywhere on you, glaring at the man in your arms. He took another step. 
You imagined it, his blade slicing Zeke’s throat. His life over forever, and being the one responsible for it. Not fighting for what you wanted, for what you deemed right, was out of question.
“I said stop!”
And it was more than a shout this time. It almost took you aback, the sheer force of it, the vibrant and unbreakable words. 
An inexorable command to which every being would yield.
And Levi stopped dead in his tracks. The beating of his wings suddenly lagged, bringing to a halt the storm around you. Immobile in turn, in this in-between plan of the universe which seemed to be his alone. 
Every muscle on his face was twitching, betraying an anger so great that his forced stillness couldn't contain. He was fighting it, trying to break free from you. Struggling to even speak. In his hand, the blade of his weapon was trembling imperceptibly under the pressure of his fingers.
But you were no match before him. He was pure strength and determination, and you knew that whatever prevented him from hurling himself at you, would soon break. At any moment, the imposed balance would shatter. At any moment, he would win the fight. Soon, he would be on you, deadly blade slicing loved fleshes.
And you, you had to remember how to fight. You had to remember how to use the weapon the Goddess once gave you. You just had to call it.
You looked down at Zeke in your arms, his face still, his sorrow engraved behind his closed eyelids. There was no surrender. There was no acceptable ending where you were to leave him. There was just no path where you didn’t live to love him. You weren't giving up on him. 
Slowly, in your mind, you remembered the touch of it, the touch of your fingers against the wooden handle. That weapon of yours, light and piercing. A spear like no other. You remembered yourself, your childish hands turned towards the Goddess, in which She had placed a weapon too big, too heavy. Too deadly. You remembered the naturalness of its throw, the extension of your arm. You remembered the bodies collapsing under its whistle, the sharp, vivid rip in the air.
You could almost feel it in your hand. Its weight, its sensation. It was almost there, crawling under the skin of your hand.
You tried, you really tried. You thought you could do it. 
But nothing came when you called.
Your eyes snapped open at Levi’s voice breaking the silence.
“You don’t know what you’ve done.”
At your side, your hand remained empty. 
And there was no reasoning with him. You could read it all upon his face. He had already tipped over somewhere unreachable, abandoned to panic and disgust. Fighting to get the upper hand - trying to break whatever compelled him to remain immobile. 
What you had done, no one could ever understand. Not even him. That love he once had for you - was not for the one standing before him, brave and desirous. It was for the child you used to be, lost and drowsy by eternity. What you had done could be drowned by excuses, but would never be enough for him to understand. 
“I lived,” you answered him, and it all came out like a river in spate, “I tried to live! And you are not allowed to blame me for it. I wanted all the things I thought I never needed, all the things of which I had been deprived. I only wanted my life back, that’s all I ever did. I denied it all for so long, but I had to fall, didn’t I? I guess I had to fall, to find my place among the ashes.”
His face twisted into a wince, his whole body shaking with rage. “You let this swine corrupt you,” he snapped back at you. “For what? For the fleeting feeling of being alive? You let him touch you, you let him-…"
"You don't know a hundredth of what we've done! You don't know anything!”
“Oh, but I know everything! I know what you have done, you idiot!”
“Why does it matter to you? You all thought I was dead! Would have it been better if I were dead?”
“Our fleshes are sacred! Ymir made us who we are so we could watch over this world, not to get our hands dirty with it!”
“And yet she let it rot!” you shouted, and as you spoke, you held Zeke’s body tighter. “She let her own children die and suffer in wars so old they forgot why they even fought in the first place. You think because she saved a handful of us, thousands of years ago, she is a fair ruler?”
“Look outside! Look at what they did to you! They are the ones to blame for all of this.”
“Are they really?”
Were they really to blame, while abandoned by the goddess for millennia, they had to rebuild a world gone up in smoke, growing up upon lands stained by blood. This hatred, like a heritage of a godless people, was not making any sense.
Yet everything had emanated from her.
Ymir, the Mother of all things, was the starting point of everything; the world’s creator, its protector and its only Goddess. 
But she had chosen to destroy it, while Mankind, jealous of her eternity and power, had defiled the ground of Paradis. She was the one who had cursed them, who had turned the verdurous lands of her own world upside down and made the oceans spit fire. She was the one who had torn the sky from the surface, promising forever to watch her children kill each other on once fertile lands. 
She was the one who taught you how to fear and how to hate. She was the one who showed you how to kill. She had been the one responsible for destroying everything, and eventually - for cursing them.
“Do you think the diluted hatred in their blood is truly theirs? Can’t you see that this,” and you waved at the world around you, at the ruins of this temple, at the corpses in the grass, at the smoke in the sky, “is not our legacy? 
“This is the cost they have to pay.” The gravel of his voice. Everywhere. Embroidering under your skin. 
“And I refuse to stand there as she keeps on murdering the children of her children. I refuse to remain silent in the face of her atrocity.”
A grimace of pain flashed on his face as he said, “She made you who you are. She gave Her own life to have you live.”
“And how many did she make you take?” you spitted. “How much did it cost you?”
His face fell. For the first time, he looked at you in disbelief.
Because he knew that you weren’t supposed to know. He knew those heavy secrets kept away from you. And that his mere purpose in this world was one of them.
“How-...”
“Would it be easier? Tell me, Angel of death, would it be easier to hide it?”
“Don’t call me that, you don’t know-...”
“What else must I know to understand? Don’t you dare tell me about this goddess of ours. Don’t you dare tell me she has been fair to you.”
“I accepted my duties. I didn’t do it to help Her. I did it to survive.”
“Or else what?” And you watched, you watched as he stood there, looking for an answer, looking for the words that would sound right. 
You would never have known, never, all the power that truth contained, how it could turn the game around, until you held it in the palm of your hand.
“She would have gotten rid of you, Levi. Like she got rid of me.”
“No.”
“She would have made your wings wither and exiled you to the end of the world, where the bloodthirst of Mankind is as great as on the first day of the Holy Wars. She would have ripped away your memories and stifled your cries for help.”
“This is not what happened.”
You were here for a reason. Because she knew that no one would ever come here, as all of you had forgotten about this place. Because this was nothing but a punishment. The only one of her children who did not know how to fly, fallen from Paradis. 
“What happened then? Has she not shaped this world with her own hands? What could have happened for a goddess to forget about her own child? So tell me, Levi. What was her purpose? How could the master of all things have failed in her duties without ever alarming us?”
You straighten yourself up, spreading your feet below your hips as you adjust Zeke’s weight in your arms. In your back, wings shrugged, waiting for an answer that never came.
“She’s tired of this world,” you said, slowly, “bored of her creation. There is no blood anymore, no prayers, no mourners pleading her name. Mankind has evolved. They kill themselves with weapons she could never have given them. 
Can't you see that she is no longer amused? She doesn't need it anymore. She created mankind for her pleasure, for her own pure enjoyment. And while the gods never get bored, she got bored with the suffering of her playthings. 
She’s trying to get rid of it. She enslaved her most powerful children, sending them to kill themselves in cruel and aimless labor - while the useless ones she abandons to the edge of the world. She turned the most powerful of them all into an obedient little soldier, while the rest of us went numb in hollowness. This is only the beginning - it takes time to erase and start again. The only purpose she has been pursuing was to get rid of this world. And whether you like it or not, we are part of it.”
And right as you spoke, the balance broke.
Except it was not because he fought back, because his power had broken the weight of the order. It was because he surrendered. 
He flinched back.
Behind you, all around you, the deafening sound of something shattering sounded. It was coming from the sky, from deep within the earth. Your eyes snapped toward the gaping hole in the ceiling, and from there, you could see immense cracks tearing the gray sky.
“There is no time left,” Levi said, and your eyes snapped back at him. He sounded so flat, as if none of it was affecting him anymore.
It was about to break. This quiet word you were all plunged in. Soon, the winter was to be over. 
“Just let me go,” you said in a whisper, voice suddenly quivering.
His eyes were turned towards the destroyed ceiling. He wasn't looking at you anymore, anger and disgust gone. On his face, only deception could be seen. And as he spoke, his eyes remained fixed towards the gray sky.
“I won’t leave you here.”
“You can leave us here, you can forget about me!”
But he was not listening anymore. He was not fighting back. 
“Come home with me,” he said.
“It’s not home. It never was.,”
“Stop it. Please,” he said, and his eyes fell to the ground between the two of you. Something in his voice was urgent. And in his back, his silver wings resumed their flutter.
“I’m begging you, just leave me here,” you were shaking your head. You were pleading. 
He took a step forward.
“I can’t.”
“Yes, you can!” you shouted. Zeke’s body was tight against your chest, the warm scent of his life against your skin, “Just leave me here, as if you had never found me!”
His wings flared out.
It was like witnessing the return of spring, the moist heat rising to your cheeks, the world suddenly overflowing, full of scents, too much heat. It was like watching the world regain its colors, after being plunged in the dark for so long.
Only it was terrifying. It was the last grain of sand in the hourglass, about to be swallowed down. It was not a rebirth of any kind. It was the return of something that meant the end. It was the bodies outside that would finally die, where the winter had taken everything. It was the end.
He didn’t answer, sweeping a cold stare across your face. So heavy of meaning, the disappointment palpable. Under it, you slightly flinched, its weight more meaningful than a thousand words.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
And suddenly everything around you was pitch black. All that was to be seen were his two silver eyes. Transfixed on you. 
You felt it coming, dryness drawing on your eyes. 
Everything was dark, and he was everywhere, silver eyes shining so intensely that you couldn't take your eyes off, a too brutal attraction. It was like being dragged against your will into lands too far away to ever imagine. A rapture that meant the end. You were not to blink or it was over.
Don’t close your eyes. 
In your arms, Zeke made a movement. His body was coming back to life, warm and clammy.
You felt him regain consciousness. Then, you heard the sweet sound of his voice. A mumble, his weight adjusting, trying to straighten up. You felt his hand, sliding down your shoulder. He called for you, his voice exhausted. He whispered “love?" against your neck.
And yet you could not take your eyes off death.
When you leaned in, grabbing his face with one of your hands, your eyes couldn't avert the unyielding silver colored eyes. He was getting closer. It was too late. 
"Listen to me, Zeke. Listen to me carefully."
Not yet. Don’t blink.
You tried to resist, but all of it, it was too strong, swallowing you whole, towards unescapable halls. There was nothing, nothing you could do.
“You have to swear,” you said, voice broken, echoing faintly, “Swear that you will keep your eyes closed.”
Or it’s all over. 
Before you, only the blade of his eyes. There, so close, inevitable. Already engulfing everything. And it hurt, hurt so sharply, eyes burning from resisting, from standing up against him.
You would have liked so badly, one last time, to see the blue of his eyes, the tempestuous color of the ocean. To lose yourself in their vastness.
There was no ending of your story where you were to leave him.
“What you will see will only kill you.”
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wall-maria-fritz · 2 years
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Hey it’s Maria! Here to ruin your day 🥰✨
The thought passed my mind and so you have to think of it too—
doesn’t Logan Paul (with his beard and blonde hair) look a little too much like Zeke Jeager?
k byeee
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seeingivy · 11 months
Text
meeting the parents 
roommate eren x f!reader 
you swear you know the family sitting next to you at eren’s soccer game, you’re just not sure from where
**find mini-series masterlist here
an: ty for all the love on roommate eren!!!! this part was super super rushed and not AS proofread lol but I just wanted to put the idea out there to set it up for some other stuff :DDDD 
previous part linked here
“Is there something I’m supposed to wear to your soccer game? I’ve never been to one before.” 
You feel Eren get up from his bed, which you were currently sprawled on. You’d spent more time in his room as of late, his bed being more comfortable to watch movies on than the couch. The night you had slept in his bed felt like it breached any sense of normal boundaries between the two of you, this was the new normal. I guess touching each others scars can do that to someone. 
In the middle of the movie he had picked out for today, which was a stupid nature documentary that was putting you to sleep, he had invited you to come to his first home game, which was on Friday. 
He was trying to convince you - telling you Annie would be there, that there are snacks, and Jean and Armin will be too since they were part of the game. You’re positive he doesn’t understand the pull he has on you, because you’d agree to anything the second he asked. 
After you agree, you can’t help but feel your heart twinge at the smile spreading across your face and you fight the urge to poke his dimples. You love his dimples. His smile lines. The softness near his eyes. You shake your head, directing your gaze back to the forest on the screen as you avoid the fluttering in your chest. 
After your question about the clothes, he nearly jumped up, rummaging through his closet to find something for you to wear. After a few minutes, he throws the shirt at you, which lands square in your face, knocking you over. You pull the shirt off your face, sticking your tongue out at him as he joins you back on the bed. 
You keep a respectable distance when you sit together on his bed, obviously. You can’t even look at him without exploding. And whenever he touches you, all you can think about is his soft, nimble fingers running across your skin in the night, touching all the parts of you that were hurt. 
But every once in a while, Eren will brush his hand against yours while reaching for his phone, fix your hair behind your ears because you ‘look like a garden troll’, and claim you have a stray eyelash on your face just to press his fingers against your cheek. 
You think it’s an excuse to touch you, that it can’t all be a mistake, but you’re also well aware that Eren can make you a little delusional. You ignore the validity of the situation all together. The less you think about his fingers on your skin, the better. 
You hold the shirt up, inspecting it. Your throat drying when you realize what it is. His jersey. 
“Eren. I can’t wear this.” 
“Why not?” 
“I don’t know. Aren’t you supposed to wear it while you’re playing?” 
“I have another one. Plus, all the girls wear jerseys to the games. Annie’s wearing Armin’s honorary jersey.” 
Annie’s not a normal girl, she’s Armin’s girlfriend. All the girlfriends wear jerseys to the game. You turn to face him, an uneasy expression pressed on your face. He rolls his eyes, his hand making its way to the top of your head. He sticks his fingers into your scalp, applying soft pressure. 
“Why are you thinking so hard? It’s just a shirt. I can find you another one if it bothers you that much.” 
He’s right. It’s just a shirt. To him anyways. It might mean something else for Annie and Armin and every other girl but for you guys, it’s just a shirt. 
You shake your head, agreeing to wear it to the game on Friday. 
 - 
The game rolls around and you’re currently seated in the stands alone. You have superstitions to thank for that. 
Armin doesn’t play in the game, but helps the coaching team strategize where to put the best players. Hence, the honorary jersey Eren mentioned earlier. Armin’s been around the sport since he was a kid and knows all the players' strengths well enough to help assist in making plays. It makes a lot of sense when you think about it - Armin’s never the one at the center of the play, but definitely the mastermind behind it. 
However, Armin claims that they can’t win unless he’s wearing a very specific pair of blue shoe laces. Eren explained that superstitions mean everything to the team, even to him. Apparently, he refuses to play if he isn’t wearing his key necklace. Because, he’ll lose without it. Armin’s the same with the shoelaces. 
Annie was currently tearing apart Armin’s apartment, trying to find the shoelaces before they could start the game in a few minutes. Which left you alone in the stands reading the book you brought to kill the time. You’re not much of a soccer or sports fan - so you had contingency plans in place. You’re just here to support your friends and because Eren asked you to come. 
You feel a hand on your shoulder, pulling out your earphones to acknowledge the nudging. You find a tall, blonde man standing over you, gesturing if he could sit next to you. He has two other people with him, a man and a woman with dark black hair, who have to be one of the player's parents. You give them a smile, nodding your head that they could take the seats next to you. 
“A Midsummer Night’s Dream?” 
“Yeah, I have to read it for an assignment.” 
At the sound of his voice, you take a moment to really seep into the man’s features. He’s got blonde hair, thin circular framed glasses, and a full sported beard. If you had to guess, you would say he’s somewhere in his late twenties, just based on his looks and demeanor. You have a feeling you’ve seen him somewhere before, but you can’t really pinpoint where from.
“This is an interesting place to complete an assignment. What brings you here?” 
You shut the book closed, squinting your eyes around on the field till you find Eren running up and down the track. The game starts in a few minutes and he’s warming up before he takes his spot at the goalie stand. 
“That guy. He’s my roommate. I came to see him play.” 
The man nods, craning his neck to find who it was you were pointing at. You sit in silence, not interacting with the man or the other two people till the middle of the game. Annie still hadn’t returned, but they were surprisingly winning the game. It was neck to neck the entire time, Eren’s team barely scoring over them each time the whistle went off. 
You feel the fingers tap into your shoulder again, the blonde man staring at you. 
“I’m going to go get water from my stands for my parents. Did you want anything?” 
You can’t ignore the growling in your stomach and the dryness in your throat - you had been screaming for a better half of the last hour. You never knew sports could make you so passionate. You dig for your wallet in your pocket, pulling out way too much cash for a simple bottle of water. You reach for his hand, squeezing it twice before speaking. 
“Thank you so much, really. It’s very kind of you to ask me. If you could get me a snack, that would be great. Here’s the money for it, you can use it for your parents' water bottles too.” 
You place the bills in his hands, turning your neck back to find Eren running on the field. You feel bad, but the only thing you can focus on is him. He’s so coordinated, like a figure skater on the field. Watching him lace the ball through his feet to avoid other players taking it from him felt somewhat hypnotic - but you think that’s more about how Eren looks and is, rather than how he’s playing. 
As the blonde man turns to leave, the woman slides into his seat, leaning over to talk to you. She has golden brown eyes, which are warmly peering into yours. 
“You’re really into the game. You’ve been following it really closely.” 
“I never thought I’d enjoy it so much. This is actually my first time coming to a game.” 
“What made you decide to come today?” 
“Eren Yeager. He’s number eleven, running on the right side of the field. He’s a really good friend of mine and he asked me to come. He cares a lot about the game and I care a lot about him, so I just had to come when he asked me.” 
She presses her hand over yours, squeezing tight. You can see her eyes glimmering at your words, though you’re not entirely sure why. You can’t place it but she seems familiar too. You’re having a weird sense of deja vu from the game all together. 
“You’re a sweet girl, really.” 
You smile back, your heart tingling at her words. You’re distracted by everyone cheering at the field, craning your neck back to find Eren. You watch him sink the ball into the net, jumping to your feet at the sight of him stopping, a smile shining on his face as he watches the scoreboard turn in his favor. 
You swear you imagine the next part, but the looks everyone around you give you tells you it was real. He turns to the field, squinting till he finds you settled in the bleachers. He points to the net, signaling at the score he just made, and then points at you, a smile pressed against his face. You’re not sure what it means entirely, but what you are sure of is that his stupid smile was going to make your heart explode one day. 
 - 
Eren wins the game. Obviously. You watch his teammates lift him into the air, shuffling him to the end of the bleachers. You run down the steps, your cheeks sore from smiling so hard. You watch the players let him go and he meets your eyes, slowly walking over to meet you. 
You basically run at him, tangling your arms around his neck. He lifts you up, spinning you around for a few seconds before setting you down. You can feel his arms shaking, which you’re sure is the adrenaline from the rush of the game. 
“Ren. That was so fucking cool. You’re so cool.” 
“Yeah?” 
You can see the corners of his lips quirking up at his words, a warm look in his green eyes. 
“You’re amazing. You move so fast, I could barely keep my eyes off of you.” 
“You can’t do that anyways.” 
You smack his shoulder with the side of your arm, rolling your eyes at him. He’s not wrong. 
Before you can bite back, he looks past your shoulder, waving at someone behind you. You turn your neck to find the three people you were sitting with from before walking up, swinging their arms around Eren. 
You watch the man with blonde hair put his hand in Eren’s hair and affectionately shake his entire head, while the man and the woman envelop him in a hug. You’re thoroughly confused. 
“You know them?” 
“Do you know them, peaches?” 
“Peaches?” you hear the black haired man say, turning his eyes towards his wife and son. 
“Yeah, we were sitting together during the game.” 
He turns his neck, narrowing his eyes at the three of them.
“How did you guys know it was her?” 
“She has Yeager printed on the back of her shirt in huge letters. It wasn’t that hard to figure out she was the girl we were looking for.” 
The three of them turn to you, all of them smiling brightly. Eren pulls you closer, swinging his arm around your shoulder as he turns to face you. 
“Y/N. These are my parents, Grisha and Carla, and my brother Zeke. They really wanted to meet you and I was going to introduce you to them after the game but they had other plans.” 
You can feel the gears settling into place in your head, the deja vu feeling making sense. The picture Eren showed you when you were sick, when you became friends - it was of them. His family. You just didn’t recognize them right away because they were way younger than they are now. 
You press your hands to all of theirs, the dread filling your chest. They knew it was you the entire time and you had no idea. Is that rude? Are they going to tell Eren you said that you cared about him?
“I’m really sorry I didn’t recognize you. Eren showed me a picture and I thought I knew you guys from somewhere, but the picture he had shown you was so old.” 
“He showed you a picture of us? He basically refused to show us any of you, he’s so secretive.” Carla responds, the shock pressed on her face.
“Just threaten him. He’ll give in eventually.” 
The three of them laugh, your heart tingling at the sight of their laughter and smiles. Okay, okay. Not too bad. They don’t hate you, that’s for sure. 
“I have a feeling he only does that for you.” 
You quirk your eyes at his dad, Grisha he said, and shake your head, dismissing the comment. He’d do it for anyone. You just know how to do it. You hear Annie and Armin calling you from the other side of the field, something about taking a picture of them. 
You shake all of their hands another time, giving them your brightest smile before letting your legs drag you to where Annie and Armin were standing. 
 - 
“No grandchildren till after graduation.” 
“Mom.” 
“I get it. She’s really cute, she’s sweet, it’s probably easy when you sleep in a bed together every night. But no grandchildren.” 
“She’s not my girlfriend. And she doesn’t sleep in my bed.” 
Eren feels Zeke smack the back of his head, turning back to glare at him.
“You get stupider as time goes on. That poor girl likes you so much.” 
Eren shakes his head, looking over at you from across the field. You’re crouched on the ground, taking a picture of Annie and Armin who have their arms tangled around each other. Of course, you’re crouching on the ground to get the best angle. 
Annie’s pressing a kiss to his cheek and he ignores the fact that all he can think about is you doing that to him. 
“No, she doesn’t.” 
“She told us she cared about you. A lot. And mind you, she thought we were strangers. She wasn’t trying to impress us as your family or your loved ones, she literally was just telling us, like she’d tell any other stranger who talked to her. She likes you.” 
Eren feels his dad come behind him, pressing dollar bills into his open palm. 
“It’s her money. Make sure you return it.” 
“She offered to pay, didn’t she?” 
They all nod, confirming his suspicions as he glances back over to you. Kindness was like breathing to you and he envied, admired, and loved it about you all at once. You were so...you sometimes, it hurt him. 
Eren gives Zeke one more shove for good measure, before stalking over to the field where you’re standing. He reaches over, pressing his fingers into the side of your shoulder. You turn over, your stupid doe eyes staring into his again. 
“Need something, Ren?” 
“I want a picture with you. Ask Annie and Armin to take it.” 
He doesn’t miss how your face lights up at the request and he curses your sweet little heart for making him like you more. 
Sometimes he feels like he can’t help it, like you could breathe and he’d love you for it. The way your nose crinkles, your chest rising and falling as it fills with air, he could love anything, even a stupid physiological act, if it was you. 
You hand Annie the camera, reaching over to press yourself against him. He reaches forward, squishing your face in his hand as Annie takes the picture. You run over, snatching the phone from Annie’s hand to swipe through the pictures. You accidentally land on the picture of Annie and Armin first, Annie pressing a kiss to his cheek. 
“Oh my god, I thought that was us for a second Ren. Imagine.” 
But he doesn’t have to. There’s already a picture of you two like that - you pressing a kiss to his cheek - from a while back. You just don’t remember it. 
next part linked here
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seredelgi · 5 months
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never forget
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lemmetreatya · 1 year
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gynecologist!zeke spreading reader open with a speculum at whistling at her insides
all you zeke babies are the same i love it wth??? you all just get this man so well 😭😭
this experience was anxious enough as it was.
in fact, getting anything done at the ob-gyn was never a fun time, but now things were even more unnerving as your gynaecologist decides to whistle as soon as he pushes the speculum pass your vaginal opening you.
“what?” you answer with urgency.
“huh?”
his reply was so nonchalant that you thought you were imagining things. but surely not, right?
you lay your head back down onto the bed before lifting it up again.
“i was sure you just whistled.”
the gynaecologist doesn’t say anything at first, only turn his back to you as he sterilised other equipment on the metal tray. it takes him several seconds before he mumbles:
“maybe?”
you frown.
“what were you whistling at?”
“nothing.”
“well, it has to be something? you put that thingy inside of me and you whistled.”
the gynaecologist runs a hand down his beard, the shk shk of the hair against his fingers suddenly started to irritate you.
and he was about to put that same hand near your vagina?!
“air musta slipped out my mouth.” he blatantly lies, and now your elbows are digging into the hard hospital bed as you sit yourself up.
“liar.” you accuse.
“how?! you don’t know what i was whistling at.” he childishly fires back and you have to give him an expression of unbelief because surely he wasn’t for real.
even with your trousers and panties circling your ankles and your nether regions on full display, you still had to let the man know you weren’t playing around.
“that’s even worst! and so unprofessional.”
with a taken aback face, the gynaecologist looks at you in disbelief.
“sorry— whos exactly the one with a doctorate here?”
“what has a doctorate got to do with knowing not to whistle at a patients fucking vagina?!”
“woah! no need to use that typa language.”
the gynaecologist raises his hands up by his head, his expression not even half sorry for what he’d done. however, now that his doctors jacket was exposed, you could see the name tag on his chest.
“zeke, get it out.”
“what?” you can tell he was caught off guard by you knowing his name. you look straight at him, your eyes narrowing.
“i said, get it out.”
suddenly, zekes pursing his lips as he pushes away from your legs. instantly hes already drawing back towards his computer screen.
“i dunno if i can do that, i think i’ve seen something weird—”
“GET IT OUT—“
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hangeslefteye · 1 year
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TWEETS THAT GİVES ME ZEKE JEAGER VİBES
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mommypieck · 1 year
Note
what about zeke and his virgin gf
༺ ♱ ༻ what happens after dinner?
✿ zeke jeager
✿ smut
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you can't help but to think about how he always tiptoes around you. you know that zeke is far more experienced than you and it's a miracle he started something with a virgin like you.
your hand find it's way on his thigh.
"thank you for the date." you say with a smile, looking at him while your hand draws circles on his thigh. zeke's breath hitches when he notes that your hand is too close to his aching cock. he's already hard from the night and he's glad that you haven't noticed the hungry looks he's been giving you throughout the night. you carefully put your hand over his cock, stroking it softly to show him you're really glad for the night. his hand slips from the steering wheel as he grips your own.
"what are you doing?" he says and you can feel the panic in his voice. you look up atbhim innocently, batting your eyelashes and smiling, "nothing. i just want to make you feel good."
he chuckles lowly, "wait until we get home, sweetheart. i don't want to make you cum on the backseat yet."
the rest of the rides feel unnecessary long, both of you notice that.
he picks you up as soon as you exit his car, carrying you to the bedroom. you blush at the tenderness he treats you with. he lowers you on the bed before crawling on top of you, kissing you deeply. you have make out before but this time it feels more intimate, now that you're both needy for each other.
"can i take this off?" he whispers against your lips and you can't help but to obligate. he starts unbuttoning your dress shirt carefully, button after button. involuntary, he let's out a low moan when he comes in sight with your lacy bra. he kisses down your body, ignoring the need to peel of your underwear off your body. after few minutes, he can't resist thr urge anymore and he rips off your bra off your body.
"oh fuck jesus." he groans when his gaze lands on your breasts. he hesitates for a moment, looking down at your sprawled out body. he knows he can keep going when he sees your pleasured face. he latches his mouth onto your breast, sucking and pinching your nipples. your back arches of the bed as you pull hard on his hair, making him moan against your chest. he pulls out after a moment to admire his artwork. your body is covered in red bruises and zeke can't get enough of that sight.
he spreads your legs and chuckles when you try to close them with him in between them.
"i didn't know you wanted me in between your legs that much." he says, holding your legs open. you let out a tiny "sorry" before hesitantly opening them again. his fingers graze your underwear, smiling when he sees a tiny wet spot at your crotch. you wiggle at his touch, your hands coming to cup his arms that hold you open.
"i know. i know." he murmurs before slipping your panties off. he thinks he might melt at thr sight in front of him.
"my my so wet." he chuckles, fingers caressing your folds.
"im so glad, im your first." he says as he licks a long stripe from your clit to your opening. you grip his hair at the stimulation, encouraging him to continue. his tongue plays miracles on your clit, abusing the little bud and making you squeal. you let out a small yelp when his fingers prob at your entrance. you're wet enough so can easily slide one finger in. the stimulation is new to your, not having ever fingered yourself. it doesn't feel bad, just strange. soon another finger joins the first and he thrusts them hard and fast in and out. you almost feel ashamed at yourself for the moans you let out. his fingers speed out and soon you're cumming all over his palm. your body spams, orgasm completely overtaking your body.
"im gonna put it in now." he says and you notice that he'd already undressed himself while you were in ecstasy. his cock stands proud in between his legs and you have to bite your lip, not knowing if it's gonna fit. he catches your expression, "don't worry, it's gonna fit. im gonna make it fit."
you open your legs a bit more so he can position himself in between them.
"is it gonna hurt?" you ask when you feel him press at your opening. he smiles down at you, "with how wet you are? probably not."
he presses into you and you can't help but to wince in pain. he shushes you with a kiss before pressing harder. soon he's balls deep into your cunt. he gives you some time to get used to him before slowly thrusting. his thrusts are gentle and he's testing waters, noting what you like. after some time, you become inpatient as you try to fuck yourself on his cock. he chuckles at your effort, thrusting harder this time. soon his thrusts become fast and hard, making your whole body move on the bed. the only sounds that can be heard are your moans and skin slapping against skin.
"im close." you whine when his thrusts focus on the special spot inside of you.
"me too." he groans, thrusting deeper. you cum with a loud moan, coating with cock with your juices. he comes seconds later, shooting right inside of you.
you two lay in silence before he turns over to kiss you on the lips.
"so how was it?" he asks with a sly smile. you blush at his question, "could been better."
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sommerflue-22 · 1 year
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Little Things They Do... (Pt. 3)
Little things they do to show you they love you
Read the other parts: Part 1 // Part 2
Featuring: Reiner Braun, Annie Leonhart, Pieck Finger, Zeke Jaeger, Bertholdt Hoover, Porco Galliard
Warning: Modern setting
Word Count: 748
Author Note
Hi! This will be the last of the series. I've linked the previous parts for you to read. Here's the song I listened to while writing this. I feel like this part is more gloomy because hey I'm kind of a mess rn haha. I hope you still enjoy it, tho. Again, these actions can be perceived platonically or romantically, whatever suits you.
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Reiner
Reiner worries about you a lot even though you're a grown adult, fully capable of doing stuff on your own. When you both are apart from each other, you keep each other updated. What you both are doing, where you're at, who you're with. After you got your own car, Reiner text you to drive safe all the time. Especially when you're alone or during the winter. He can help you if you cut your finger when cooking, he can help you if you're sick from walking in the rain, but he can't really help you if anything happens while you're driving alone. He doesn't want to think of the worst case scenario. Whatever your relationship is with him, whether it's romantic or platonic, he doesn't want to lose you.
Annie
Annie is not the type of person who will explicitly say she loves you. She is also not a big fan of physical contact. You are no exception, but she really does care for you a lot. So, whenever you're out with her and need to cross a street, she will hold your hand. She doesn't ask you if you need help crossing the street, nor does she glances at you and smile (like you often sees in movies). Annie just automatically holds your hand and leads you forward, looking both ways to make sure everything is safe.
Pieck
Pieck is a busy lady, okay? She works hard, every single day. She's highly professional and her colleagues count on her a lot. However, when it's just the two of you, she puts away any mental to-do list or any work-related stuff. She just wants to be with you, listening to you talking. She pays attention to you and you only. Of course, she will talk about work if you ask her about it. Though, she'd rather spend her free time not worrying about work. She feels like she can relax and be her everyday, cheerful self with you.
Zeke
Having a relationship in general is not easy, but having a relationship with Zeke is definitely on the next level. He can be stubborn at times, and even though he doesn't mean it, he might say things that hurt you. Not to mention, his *cough* family issue. Loving Zeke, as a friend or as a lover, is not easy. You both argue a lot, often times resulting in one of you taking time away from the other. Most of the time, it's you who request a time off. Now, Zeke is quite a prideful man alright. He doesn't go mushy and beg you to stay. He let you go be alone for a few days, but eventually he will be the one who apologizes first. He doesn't do that with other people, but he does for you. Because you never leave him, and he would love to keep it that way.
Bertholdt
Bertholdt can be shy at times, especially when he just met someone for the first time. Maintaining eye contact while someone else is talking to him can be difficult. He felt uncomfortable, like the other person might discover who he really is just by staring into his eyes. How insecure he feels sometimes, the dark thoughts that he keeps for lonely nights, and other things private. You are the only exception. You don't judge, you show him that hey, it's alright to be a little messed up sometimes. You've seen him in states that nobody else has ever seen, even his parents. That is why he's not afraid to look into your eyes. He appreciates you, and he lets you in.
Porco
Porco can be passive-aggressive at times and most of the time he might think he's always right, especially when it has been a long day for him. People might start an argument, or they'll let it go while mentally cursing the man. You, on the other hand, you're one of the few people who can deal with him. Instead of starting an argument (causing him to get worked up) or walking away (and seeing him with a smug expression), you just simply say "Alrighty~ Agree to disagree" It's a new response that Porco didn't anticipate, and you say it with the most chill tone/expression. After awhile, he tried not to be so snappy and cocky with you. He even gives up his need to always be right. You can tell him the rain happens because the angels are taking a piss, and he'll just nodded. "Whatever you say..."
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Idk man, I just really love Bertholdt, Reiner, and Zeke. Precious men. Deserves better. I love them.
Anyway, thank you for reading! I hope you enjoy it. Lemme know what you think in the comment :)
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vainilla-milk · 2 years
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some funny and strange things that happen when they have sex with you feat. zeke, reiner, porco
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tags: afab!reader, fem!reader, modern au
tw: suggestive content and weird sex... i guess🤔
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Zeke Jeager
Sometimes you two have to stop because the wonder boy gets lumbago, you get a laugh and tease him that he's getting old.
You make him some tea and a hot water bottle that you place on his lower back.
Zeke complains that it still hurts, but he also loves it when you take care of him.
Reiner Braun
Let's just say that sometimes this big boy has no control over himself to cum, one time you were sucking him off and you pulled his cock out of your mouth to take a breath, but Reiner couldn't hold it in any longer and cum on your face.
You got drops of cum in one eye and you started to feel hell itself in your eyeball.
Reiner was so scared because you were suffering uncontrollably from the burning in your eye. He ended up taking you to the hospital where they relieved the pain and warned you both about the acidity of semen.
Regardless, the doctor congratulated Reiner because the PH of his semen indicated that he was a healthy guy. He was happy about that, while you were just exhausted with the pain in your eye.
Porco Galliard
Once he was done with you, he withdrew his cock from your body and realized that the condom had stayed inside you…. A little deep.
You were tired, a little sore and worried. Porco spent a few minutes trying to pull the condom out with his fat fingers.
Still, you both remember it with grace.
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justanobodywriter · 2 years
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Mirror Sex
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Zeke Yeager
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Cw: gender neutral reader (penetration but non specific body parts used), mirror sex, soft dom/sub dynamics, use of pet and kitten, orgasm for both, no protection, let me know if I missed any
~500 words
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Zeke loves watching himself fuck into you over and over again. He loves the look that you get when you look up and see your pretty self getting fucked.
He puts mirrors up on the ceiling, walls, doors, wherever he feels the need to. He wants to be able to watch you from any angle he can. He wants you to be able to watch yourself from every angle with him.
"Just like that, love," he cooed. "Look at how well you're taking me. Such a pretty sight, isn't it?"
You couldn't help but let out little whimpers. Seeing yourself be rammed into, along with Zeke's soft words had you reeling. All you wanted was to let go, but you knew better.
"Such a pretty little pet," he continued. "Tell me what it is you want."
"C-cum, please," you managed out.
He shook his head, "Kitten, you know better than that. You have to use your words."
"Please, I nee-need to cu-cum," you finally got out through hiccups and whimpers.
He chuckled, "Not yet. I don't think you've earned it."
You pressed yourself against his each thrust. He let out a groan at your sudden assistance in him fucking you dumb.
"That's it," he chuckled out.
With each thrust, you both were moving your hips, watching your each move.
"Don't you love how you look when I fuck you, love?" he asked, gripping your head and forcing it forward to look at yourself.
His piercing eyes gazed back at you with such love and lust. You forced yourself to look at your own reflection. Your fucked out expression with his gaze being too much. You pushed yourself over the edge.
"That's right, you earned it," he grunted, only going faster.
You rode out your own orgasm, slumping forward slightly. He held you up until he found his own release only a minute or two later, and who could blame him with how you clenched around him so wonderfully.
He lifted your legs spreading your now full hole to the mirror, "Look at that, kitten. Isn't that a sight to see?"
You moaned again, forcing yourself to look at your dripping hole.
"Think you can take some more?" he asked, chuckling at your expression as the words left his lips. "So eager to please, aren't you, pet. Ok, I can give you some more."
And just like that he was back inside of you, thrusting his own seed deeper inside of you, trying to give you more of what you and he both wanted.
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pisspope · 11 months
Text
Take One, Leave One
zeke yaeger x reader
content: fluff, language ?? mentions of erotica
this is 100% selfship coded but its been in my head for months so im letting the bitch out
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Well. Someone left erotica in your little free library. Again.
It’s been an ongoing battle for a couple of weeks now. You return home from your evening shift to find a slew of new paperbacks in the box. Some of it is to be expected, forgotten tomes of short stories and unremarkable children’s chapter books, but hidden among them are… others. “A Saucy Dame’s Shifter Mate,” for one, “The Demon and His Temptress”, for another. Which are fine enough donations for a regular library, but the one you put together in front of your house is obviously for kids. It’s covered in little rainbows and flowers and colorful spirals, and a good 90% of the books are for ages 6 and under. Whoever is doing this is either willfully ignorant or thinks they’re being funny. Your bet is on the latter.
You take the offending books out of the cutesy box and take them inside, setting them in the foyer with the others that have started to pile up. You’re planning on taking them all in to the library at once during a donation day, probably make some excuse about them being from an estate sale and that you didn’t want them to go to waste. You do work at the library after all, so the idea that you would want to save some works from a landfill isn’t too farfetched. And sure, maybe you should just tell the truth, that someone is donating filth to your little library, but the biddies at work are judgemental, so you’d rather just do it all at once and not have the embarassment build up over time.
What you’d really like to do, of course, is catch the culprit. You know whoever it is has to be doing it while you’re at work, sometime in between lunch and the late afternoon walk home, but that’s about it. Plenty of people stop by each day to peruse the collection, adult and child alike, so asking the neighbors who they saw won’t be much help, either. There’s only one option.
You’ll have to catch them in the act.
Your moment arrives not 2 weeks later. You’d been given an earlier shift than usual, opening instead of closing, and were trudging home for lunch when you spotted him. A man, average height, glasses, beard, button-up and slacks; some normal looking, white-collar joe. Probably worked at one of the cubical hells in the industrial part of town, pushing pencils and cracking his aching back until he could roll his ergonomic chair into the grave with him. He stopped in front of your little library, and, having not yet noticed you, took some books out of his laptop bag and slid them in. They weren’t picture books, either. Holy shit.
“You!” you yelled, jogging towards the man and your own house. “You are the culprit!”
The man looked up, bemused, glasses glinting in the sun. He sneered down at you as you reached him, waiting for what you had to say next.
You pointed at him accusingly, but he just smirked and put his hands up, mock innocent.
“I can’t believe I caught you.” you huffed, panting a little. Librarian life had you up and moving, but you wouldn’t call it an active position. “You’re the one that’s been leaving nasty shit in my little library!”
“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Like hell you do!” you snapped, sliding past him to pull one of the new additions out. Sure enough, a sultry cover of a buxom lass and her chiseled beau, complete with some poorly photoshopped motorcycle and rolling hills in the background. You held it up to him.
“This wasn’t here this morning. In fact, it wasn’t here 30 seconds ago.”
The man chuckled and folded his arms over his chest.
“How do you know that? You weren’t here all day.”
You shake your head, annoyed. It was obvious he was playing some kind of game here, and you wanted no part in it.
“Because I saw you put it in there!”
The man took the book from your hands gingerly, suprisingly soft fingertips brushing against yours. You gasped despite yourself, though if he noticed he ignored it.
“’Riding With the Boys: A Biker Girl’s Story’,” he reads, looking the book over like it’s the first time he’s seen it. He tosses it between his hands, flips through the pages, then hands it back to you with a sigh.
“It’s derivative, honestly. The lead heroine falls in love with the jacked leader of the gang even though their finance guy is a better fit for her. All about looks… no thought to her characterization and what would make her happy in the long run. Drivel.”
You snort out a little laugh, feeling your guard drop a tad. It brings you no joy, but there’s something charismatic about him.
“Whatever. You were expecting something more from gas station smut?”
He shrugs, pulls yet another out of his bag. “And THIS one,” he hands the novella to you, one with a shirtless man front and center, leather pants and a microphone in hand. “’Seducing the Singer: Night of the Sirens’? Don’t get me started.”
You tilt your head to the side, inquistive. “That bad?”
His eyes widen behind his circular frames. “Oh, atrocious. The male lead doesn’t even look like a rock star. He’s all goofy looking with glasses and Hawaiian shirts and bullshit. I guess the characters at least felt like they liked each other. In so many of these they’re just fucking because it’s what the narrative requires. It makes me ill.”
You can’t help but raise your eyebrows at his tirade. “So why read these if they’re all so awful?”
Shit, wait. you think. Why are you being pulled into this? Who cares why he’s reading them? Just tell him to stop leaving them here!
“Because the ladies around town can’t get enough of them,” he responds, eyes glinting mischievously. “I’m something of a businessman around here, so I want to keep a finger on what potential customers are interested in. And what they’re interested in,” he taps the book in your hands, “is erotic literature.”
“Bullshit. Who told you that?”
“Uh, I inferred it?” he laughs, but in a way that’s almost defensive, like you’ve insulted him by asking.
“Whenever I come back here a few days later, they’re already gone.”
“Oh,” you say, and you end up covering your mouth to stifle giggles at his expense. You look up at him through creased eyes nearly shut from containing your own laughter, then begin walking up the steps to your front door.
“Hey!” he calls, following after you with a couple wide strides.
“What’s so funny? And where are you going?”
You unlock your front door wordlessly, stepping into your foyer and gesturing at the not-so-modest stack of books by the staircase. You can’t help but snicker.
“They’re gone because I take them out before any kids can grab them. I’ve been waiting for a library donation day. Figured it’d be better to just give them away all at once.”
The man’s mouth opens and closes like a goldfish as he peers into your entrance room at the messy stacks. He looks to you, then the stacks, then back to you. His voice comes out as a squeak.
“You mean they’re not popular?”
Now it’s your turn to shrug and act blasé. Oh how the tables have turned.
“I don’t see them get checked out much at the actual library. The Amish romances do better. Older readers really only like the softcore, from my understanding.”
The man turns and walks away, sitting himself down on the steps to your door with a huff. When you follow behind him, he looks up at you with puppy dog eyes. Where the fuck did he pull those from?
“I’ve been setting up book clubs and wine pairings based off of these fuckers being popular. And you’re telling me you just… had them in your house? Right by the front door?”
You nod, breaking eye contact with him. You felt a twinge of guilt, though you had no reason to. It was his fault for leaving the damn things in your little library in the first place! Still, there was something about him. Something about those sad eyes and soft hands.
“I work at the library,” you sit down on the steps next to him, inner voice screaming to stop talking and let him suffer the consequences of his actions.
“You could come down and I could show you what’s popular right now. What the ladies about town are actually reading. If you wanted.”
“I’d like that.”
The man wraps his hands around his knees and pouts, actually fucking pouts, then nods.
You both sit there in silence for a minute, watching starlings hop across your little lawn and bees hover around morning glories, summer sun beating down on your skin. Part of you thinks you should probably shoo him away now, call this issue resolved, but you hesitate. Why is a mystery to you.
“My name’s Zeke, by the way.”
You whip your head around, pulled from your thoughts. “Sorry, what?”
He looks to the side and meets your gaze again. His eyes are like a cloudy morning in early spring.
“My name. It’s Zeke.”
You give him your name in return as he stands back up, readjusting his bag over his shoulder. The sun hits his hair just right, and it has the audacity to shine like spun gold. Something flutters in the pit of your stomach that you fight to ignore. When Zeke looks at you again, the fight becomes a boss battle.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, then. At the library.”
He walks off without another word. You don’t even have work tomorrow.
Sighing, you step back into your foyer and lock the door behind you. The erotica greets you in a haphazard pile.
This was going to be a long summer.
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maginxlia · 2 years
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Starring Eren, Connie, Armin and Zeke in Cumming Undone ❤️‍🔥The Scenarios
Rated TV-MA
NSFW/ Minors please don’t Read
No pronouns in this Bih
Summary❤️‍🔥 you decide to surprise your man with Your Throat Abilities
Author Note❤️‍🔥 Something New for you Babes, I hope you enjoy and that y’all having a Wonderful Weekend
Navigation
Askbox Always Open
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Eren Yeager
♡ You had been watching Eren game online with Mikasa, Connie and Jean for the last Two Hours
♡ GTA V Online sessions are so hectic with them in it that you are usually very entertained But today your eyes has been on Eren more than his monitors
♡ He looked so delicious with his hair pulled back in a lazy ponytail…He should be Rewarded for Winning so many PVP… Right???
♡ Your body going into Autopilot as your mouth starts watering, you pulled back his chair and sat on the floor before him
♡ Eren looked away from his monitors for a split second, he stared down at you as you laid kisses to his cock still in his Jogging pants; He slightly smirked before going back to his game
♡ You pulled out his cock and licked him up & down before putting him in your mouth, you easily took his big hard cock to the back of your throat making Eren shift slightly in his chair but his voice didn’t show it as he spoke into his headset
♡ You weren’t going to break him that easily huh? Okay eren challenge accepted
♡ You bobbed your head at the right pace to make Eren`s toes curl, taking him to the back of your throat when he least expected
♡ Sucking at his tip as your hands worked his shaft, you looked him dead in his eyes as he swallowed heavily
♡ Eren took one of his hands of the controller and placed it to the back of your head controlling your pace, he was cheating but you still could win this game
♡ You swirl your tongue on his tip whenever your head went up, your hands massaged his balls
♡ You looked up and his hair was down, you knew then you had him right where you want him
♡ Keeping up your actions Eren was quick to end his gaming session, tossing his headset aside he groaned out before saying these words as one hand rubbed your cheek
♡ Eren: You wanted them to hear what you were doing to me??? Like a little slut hmmmmm??? Want them wishing that they were me?? But you’re are Mine.
♡ Eren then stood up and started fucking your mouth hard but it wasn’t something you couldn’t handle
♡ You can tell by how his hips subtly shake upon every thrusts and how his breathing is that Eren was close
♡ On his last thrust you grabbed his hips, Pulling him deep into your throat and let him cum violently down your throat
♡ Pulling back from Eren, you winked up at him and said while Giggling “You are delicious Ren”
♡ Eren fell back into his chair before patting his lap and speaking these words
♡ Eren: Come here Baby, It’s time I returned the Favor.
Connie Springer
♡ Connie has been watching you do your make up for the past hour while he’s FaceTiming Jean who was trying to complete his PC build
♡ Connie has been lowkey moping about the fact you were going clubbing with your friends without him, it made you sad to see your man so down and out
♡ While you did your hair you kept looking through the mirror back at Connie who was lying on the bed with his phone in his hand, every so often he would look up at you to see your progress or to admire you
♡ When you were done you checked yourself out before heading to the side of the bed, you leaned in to whisper in Connie’s ear “You better not mess my makeup or hair up” your lips grazed his ear making him shiver as he watched you apply his favorite lip gloss to your lips
♡ Slowly you made your way to his thighs before pulling his cock free of his pants while keeping eye contact with him the whole time
♡ Connie cock was hard in your hand as you stoked him up and down before licking his tip and deep throating him unexpectedly
♡ You can tell you made him weak and he was holding back a moan, Oh how he glad Jean was too excited and busy with his PC to see how he was looking
♡ Connie couldn’t help but thrust up into your mouth smearing your lip gloss onto his cock as you took him like the throat master you are
♡ You placed your hands on his hips helping him with his thrusts; oh you made him feel so good
♡ Connie was already close but you decided to swirl your tongue around like that?? Oh you were about to kill him while he was on FaceTime with Jean
♡ Connie eyes rolled back and you could tell by the way he was tensing he closed to coming but you kept on with the actions that would shove him over the edge
♡ Connie came so hard he tossed his phone to the floor and covered his mouth to muffle his moans
♡ He watched as you swallowed everything and lick his cock clean before tucking him back into his pants
♡ Connie out of breath: I might’ve broke my fucking phone
♡ You as you checked yourself out one last time: But you didn’t mess me up and I thank you for that, now I got to finish getting ready baby.
♡ Connie could barely grab his phone cause baby you did a number to him
Armin Arlert
♡ Armin has been on a Zoom Study session with his friends for the past three hours. No breaks
♡ You hate to Admit that you were feeling neglected but most importantly you worried for your man’s health!
♡ He looked so cute with his head in a book deep in concentration but it’s time for him to focus on you
♡ As he was preoccupied with his notes, you were crawling under the dining table where he decided to do all his studying
♡ It didn’t take long for you to find you target, Armin Soft but strong legs covered in the beige pants you picked out for him the last time you two went shopping
♡ You gently placed your hands onto his legs making Armin jump and pull back his chair to look down at you, He already knew your plans and he wasn’t prepared for it
♡ As you slowly stroked him through his pants Armin kept his beautiful eyes on you
♡ You slowly unzipped his pants you stared up at him watching his reaction as you exposed his Pretty Hard Cock, He could only nod at you to continue as he went back to studying before Eren Grew suspicious
♡ As you took him into your mouth, Armin closed his eyes. His cock felt so good with your lips wrapped around it
♡ As you bobbed up and down you placed your hands on his thighs for support
♡ You knew if Armin kept his eyes closed his friends would get worried so that’s why you started to lick the underside of his cock all the way down to his balls taking care to gently kiss both of them before sucking on them; Armin eyes were wide as he fought the urge to let out a moan and to make it worse his face was bright red
♡ Mikasa: Armin, Are you Alright???? You look feverish??
♡ Her words made everyone in the study session look at Armin making him embarrassed
♡ Armin as you suck his cock so good he could scream: yes… I’m Good, I’m just a little tt-ired I’ll talk to you guys later!!!!
♡ Logging out of the study session Armin let out the prettiest moan as you softly sucked the tip of his cock before deep throating him and fondling his balls
♡ Armin breathy moans letting you know he was close
♡ Armin: I’m about to cum
♡ He came hard as you continued to suck on his cock making him tremble in the chair
♡ You looked up at him while you swallowed his seed, his eyes watching and his face flushed from your ministrations
♡ Armin looked so cute undone, you watched as his eyes traveled to his phone that was lighting up with notifications
♡ Mikasa: Are you alright??
♡ Connie: Man you looked sick as hell, I hope you’re okay
♡ Jean: dude you good?? You got Mikasa worried
♡ Eren: I know what you were doing.
Zeke Yeager
♡ Bothering Zeke while he was working was Risky as hell but it was so fun! Especially when he is in a zoom meeting
♡ This is how you found yourself under his desk while he talked business with his colleagues
♡ You knew this meeting was important and that your actions would get you overstimulated later but trying to crack Zeke is so worth it
♡ As he talked you held on to his legs covered in dress slacks, He loves to dress up even when he having a zoom meeting
♡ Your hands slowly up to his thighs and finally landing on your target, his cock that was already hard in anticipation
♡ You released his beautiful cock from the prison that is his pants, your hands pumping his cock as you laid soft licks to his tip
♡ Oh you were going to tease the hell out of him, sucking the tip of his cock as your hands worked his shaft slowly
♡ You took him to the back of your throat and laid your tongue flat against the base of his cock, a risky move that always makes you choke but it was worth it to hear him clear his throat; you were getting to him.
♡ Keeping your up actions your bobbed up and down on his cock, taking him to the back of your throat when you went down and sucking his tip when you went up
♡ A shame you couldn’t touch his heavy balls that was still trapped in his pants.. if you could would’ve broke him for sure
♡ You could tell by the way he shifting in his chair that it was taking him everything to not groan out
♡ You went back to pumping his cock with your hands and using your mouth on his tip, you could feel him shudder before hearing him end the Zoom Call… Uh oh
♡ Zeke pulled back his office chair, his glasses missing and his tie undone; he stared down at you his cock in your mouth before he grabbed your head and shoved his cock down your throat
♡ He fucking your mouth?? He’s big mad but it's nothing you can’t handle you know his cock like the back of your hand
♡ He pulled you off while looking you right in the eye as you smiled up at him before he said these words
♡ Zeke: Oh you tried to make me groan?? So all my colleagues wish that their cocks were in your mouth??? You wanted me to cum while I was in a meeting?? I think you deserve a punishment or two darling
♡ Zeke laid you across his lap, spanking your ass hard but at this point you didn’t care
♡ You were ready for the long night of fucking you two were going to do, after all this was your plan
Hotties on The Taglist @ren-simp
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©All Rights to writings Reserved To Marilyn Jean Zakiyyah
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robosuta · 1 year
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Life has been keeping be busy lately so here is a sketch
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sofiafushiguro · 2 years
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stepbro! zeke x female reader
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Stepbro! Zeke comes home for the holidays, and he can´t help but notice how much you've grown since the last time he had seen you. Stepbro! Zeke always remembers your last encounter, the night before he went away for college. He remembers your high-pitched moans, your body covered in spit and cum and your toes curling at the sensation of him filling you to the max.
Stepbro! Zeke knows you're such a good girl, deciding to enroll in community college so you're closer home and can help your parents. And of course, good girls deserve a reward and Stepbro! Zeke knows it.
He chooses to sit next to you at the Thanksgiving dinner, your white floral dress decorating your body so delicious, Stepbro! Zeke can´t keep his hands to himself, placing one of them between your thighs. The warmth of your cunt hugging his hands while he speaks normally with your parents. Stepbro! Zeke knows what he is doing; and, later, your mom asks for a picture because her stepson is finally home, and she needs to remember this moment for the rest of her life.
Stepbro! Zeke told you to sit on his lap, and your mom agrees. You look like a sweet little sister. But you are feeling his hard cock inside his pants, so you decide to grind gently, in return for what he did at dinner. Stepbro! Zeke can´t wait to bend you over the kitchen counter and fuck you stupid.
And he does. Stepbro! Zeke volunteers to organize and clean the kitchen, and he drags you with him, telling you that you have to let your parents rest. So you two organize and clean the kitchen as you told your mom, the talk is fluent as you only talk about school and family, but as soon as you´re done... oh, boy!
Stepbro! Zeke doesn´t hesitate when he takes off your panties and puts them in your mouth to muffle your moans. He bends you over the kitchen counter and gives a nice and clean spank to your ass. "That´s my good girl, let me take care of you,"
And he starts trusting inside you as if the world were to end and this was his only opportunity. Stepbro! Zeke does lazy circles on your clit while his dick is kissing your cervix.
"none of those boys will fuck you as I do. I´m the only one that can make my baby cum like this"
And you cum, you cum violently. Your juices dripping into the kitchen floor, and your knuckles are white from grabbing the counter with such strength.
Stepbro! Zeke likes seeing how his cum leaks from your pussy, so he shoots his seed inside you, painting you white and admiring your twitching body. "Now imma tug you in bed, and I'll fuck you again, ok?"
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