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honey-doc · 7 months ago

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Why I appreciate Kabru and Mithrun's relationship in the story (with pictures!)

I just want to express how much I loved reading through the chapter with the 6 days they spent together and how I think their relationship developed in a pretty sweet way.

I feel like a lot of people reduce their dynamic to "nurse and patient" and that makes me sad because I personally got a lot more from it than that.

I do wanna start off by saying I'm here appreciating their dynamic as it is in the text.

Read more (spoilers ofc):

The beginnings

When they first met, there was an air of intimidation surrounding Mithrun as the captain of the ominous Canaries. He demonstrates his proficiency as a fighter and leader which worried Kabru because he knew it would lead to the dungeon falling into elven hands once again. But this threatening aura begins to dim in Kabru's mind as they get to know each other.

Even before they fell down the hole, the both of them ended up relying on each other's abilities a number of times (when the underground governor turned out to be corrupted Mithrun defeated him and Mithrun needed Kabru's deduction skills during the battle on the first floor) which is already the beginning of a great dynamic

(Kabwu is scared but Mithrun just asks for his help)

After Cithis tasked him with "taking care of Mithrun's needs" for the time being, Kabru treated Mithrun with proper respect and doesn't take advantage of his disability, even using his title “Captain” when he knew Mithrun wouldn’t have cared either way after learning about how he lost his desires. This is in contrast to Cithis who immediately took advantage of her position to mess around with Mithrun when she was taking care of him.

(When Cithis was put in charge of taking care of Mithrun)

The whole time Kabru is with Mithrun, he treats him like a person and more than just someone to be taken care of, as also he relies on Mithrun's fighting skills, knowledge of the dungeon, and teleportation magic.

When you reduce their dynamic to just "caretaker and patient", you're ignoring Mithrun's own capabilities and making him seem totally helpless. It actually feels rather ableist. They have a more balanced relationship with what Mithrun brings to the table than you may think. Mithrun couldn't have survived down there on his own, but it's the same for Kabru (who famously dies every time he fights)!

Kabru doesn’t show signs of trying to manipulate Mithrun either, and he's no longer intimidated by him in the slightest once he learns he’s not a threat or after his life. Though he does instinctively revert to his "sparkly" persona to get Mithrun to eat the disgusting mushroom, it doesn’t work so Kabru just has him eat it normally and never tries it again. This is the beginning of Mithrun unintentionally encouraging Kabru to be more honest with others.

(Kabru realizing he can chill out)

(Kabru being unreserved and Mithrun being silly)

bonus funny moment:

Bonding

Throughout the journey they talked to each other, shared things with each other, and ate with each other. And Kabru expresses genuine concern about whether Mithrun is comfortable (which is something he could live without and wasn't something the Canaries told him to do).

(Kabru showing he wants to make him comfortable by making food for him which is a very important part of the narrative)

(Kabru sharing intimate memories with Mithrun)

(Kabru initiating conversation without hesitation or worry. This part also is referencing how Mithrun shared very important details of his life with Kabru. Kabru also ends up trusting Mithrun with information about Laios despite knowing he could possibly tell the other Canaries about him and impede his plans..which he does lol they do end up knowing about Laios before meeting him.)

For a bonus Lycion implies Kabru was taking better care of Mithrun than they had been which is interesting to me.

Mithrun also shows that he has come to trust Kabru's decisions over the Canaries' when he says he wants to stay in the dungeon after fulfilling the caretaker requirement. They did talk to each other a lot, during that time. I wonder what Mithrun's Shapeshifter double of Kabru would look like now?

Here, Kabru goes out of his way to make sure Mithrun doesn’t overexert himself by knocking him out after the demon leaves with Marcille (again, when his time taking care of him is already over), and I think that demonstrates an extra level of concern he holds for Mithrun.

(Kabru holding back a hellbent Mithrun)

(KNOCKOUT!)

He even managed to make Mithrun mad. It's probably because he "let the demon get away" but I think it's cute and funny because would he huff like that at anyone else? Lol

When the demon breaks through the surface

Kabru begins panicking after Laios turns into the giant monster because he's wondering if he made the right decisions etc. If Mithrun didn’t care about Kabru at least a little bit, he would’ve just left him alone when he started losing it (right after Marcille did the same thing and she is technically more to blame for empowering the demon than Kabru was for not allowing Mithrun to go after it), but he went out of his way to snap him out of it.

It also means a lot to me that Mithrun even says Kabru's name, because in Japanese you can go your entire life without referring to someone by name and it wouldn't sound wrong (just rude) and it's the first time Mithrun says Kabru's name on screen (I checked).

Though it was with a slap, I think it says a lot, because if Mithrun didn’t care at all he wouldn’t have done anything and left him alone. It's not like Kabru could've done anything to stop the demon. He didn't even to tell him to do anything even though Kabru looked ready for an order.

(To be honest I don't know exactly why Mithrun starts beating him up here but you can say it's another rare demonstration of emotion Kabru was able to evoke in him lol. Maybe it's payment for Kabru stopping him the first time. That can be interpreted as paying it back and/or paying it forward I think.)

The last few chapters

And in the end when Kabru’s motivating Mithrun to continue living his life, he speaks to him like they’re friends/have no rank between them despite using the Captain title for him the whole time. Even Lycion initially gets upset that he’s acting “too familiar” with Mithrun.

It feels like Mithrun changed so much in the short time he spent together with Kabru and before the final battle, and it’s thanks to Kabru that Mithrun finally starts to be able to move past his lingering obsession with the demon and begin to really heal.

This is despite the fact that he spent so much time with Milsril and the other elves who never managed to break through to him like that.

(Before Kabru) (After Kabru)

And even after his role as Mithrun's caretaker was loong complete, he still shows concern for Mithrun and tells him to take a break when he's using up all his magic to slice the Falin meat (lmao).

He didn't need to do that! But it shows how he at least slightly considers Mithrun some kind of friend.

It all culminates with Kabru helping Mithrun regain his wil to live and Mithrun confiding in Kabru. Their relationship is important. Kabru continuing to do things for Mithrun to me is more of a sign that he just plain cares about him. Isn't it normal when a friend needs medication for you to remind them to take it? I think it's like that.

Kabru is there with Mithrun when he comes out about his feelings of uselessness AND when Senshi helps him put a spin on the 'vegetable scraps' metaphor and he find meaning in his life again. He's the first one to see him cry :')

Along with the fact that it feels like Mithrun is the first person we see Kabru doesn't feel the need to change his personality with or put on airs for since Mithrun doesn't need buttering up and he won't get offended if someone were to say something socially awkward, I think they made a pretty good team!

BUT ALSO the REAL reason I became endeared to them is cute shit like this:

GOD I love them!!!!! There are so many funny sides to Mithrun Kabru was able to bring out, and really show his charm as a character. Mithrun also brings out the best in Kabru while Kabru’s the most genuine he’s been since his debut with Mithrun. We are able to see that he’s just a kind and caring person, rather than the shady obsessed guy most fans have come to believe him to be.

The true depths of their dynamic also grew on me over time :)

TLDR

All in all it’s so nice seeing how even though Mithrun is a really deadpan person, and Kabru is a really secretive and withheld person, they clearly seem to have developed some kind of bond while they traveled together and even changed each other to an extent.

Doesn't Kabru feel more honest near the end? Maybe it's because of how much he talked to and shared with Mithrun during those 6 days so candidly...because they taaaalked a looooot like wow.

They mean so goddamn much to me. I don’t need them to be in a romantic relationship but I do want them to be together forever :'))) or like at least hang out when they have off time since they're still in the same country lol. Praying for Kui to make another side comic of them some time (crying).

Thanks for reading if you made it this far, I mostly arranged this because it makes me sad to see people reduce their dynamic to only one singular aspect.

Anyways ya...love 'em (heart hands)

#dungeon meshi #dunmeshi #mithrun #kabru #kabumisu #MITHRUN DESERVES MEANINGFUL RELATIONSHIPS TOO DAMMIT!!!!!#i wasn't gonna ship tag it buuut w/e #omg i just came up w something #you can reduce their dynamic...but all you'd end up with...is a nice sauce #for like..steak..get it? reduction..cooking..no ok #also for an extra i think it's highly unlikely kabru met mithrun as a kid because he showed NO signs of recognizing him when they met #like KABRU of all people would remember lol

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adragonprinceswhore · 6 days ago

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Make You Feel My Love

Aemond Targaryen x Ex-Girlfriend

Summary: A few months after you break things off with your boyfriend, Aemond, you start receiving strange messages and phone calls from an unknown number. Things escalate when you’re sent a video secretly filmed half a year ago, of you and Aemond having sex.

Warnings: 18+, dark themes (mind the tags!), obsession, stalking, exhibitionism, blackmail, threats of violence, emotional manipulation, DUBCON (drunk sex), degradation, dirty talk, fingering, deepthroat, breathplay, spanking, P in V, hairpulling

A/N: Based on a request by anon, I hope you like this! Another spooky fic for the spooky season, Happy All Saint's Eve! 🖤

Word Count: 5100

Your breath turns into small clouds in the cold air as you step out of the office building, the chill of late autumn biting through your wool coat.

It’s already dark outside. The tall lamp-posts lining the empty streets cast a pale light over Cobbler’s Square, the business hub of King’s Landing. As you fumble with your gloves to put them on, your phone vibrates, breaking the silence of the still night. You glance down and see a message from an unknown number:

"Working overtime again?"

Your eyes linger on the screen. The message makes you shiver, it’s uncomfortably familiar yet oddly unsettling. You scan the sidewalk, wondering if someone from work might be pulling a prank at your expense, but there's no one around, just the faint murmur of traffic in the distance.

After a second of consideration, you decide it must’ve been someone texting the wrong number, so you slip the phone back into your pocket, and head toward the underground.

The one good thing about staying late at the office is that there’s always a free seat on the train. You take a seat, put in your earbuds and close your eyes, relieved that another stressful day is behind you.

Still, the strange text you’d received leaves a knot of unease tightening within you.

Your mind drifts to recent news reports about a man harassing women across the city. He’d been lurking around office buildings, the stories said, learning his victims’ routines, showing up at the same places, always at the wrong times.

The coincidence is eerie, almost too frightening to think about. So you pull out your phone, trying to distract your wandering mind.

You scroll through recent news, and just as you feel yourself relax a bit, another reminder of your recent distress pops up on your screen,

Aemond Targaryen.

It’s hard to keep up with recent affairs and not bump into him.

A member of the Targaryen family, one of the most powerful media dynasties in the country, he was untouchable, the kind of person people said was destined to rule the world. At first, he’d seemed like the everything a woman could wish for: captivating, attentive, always ready with grand gestures.

But as time passed, his attention turned darker.

His texts became constant, then invasive.

He’d ask where you were at all hours, demanding you kept your location tracker on at all times. He would question your friends, arguing they were ‘beneath you’. He even hinted at you quitting your job as a political reporter, a position you had studied and fought for for 8 years, to come work for him. “I’ll make you my personal assistant”, he’d said, “Keep you close in case I need anything.”

His controlling tendencies, paired with his arrogant worldview was what ultimately led you to break things off with him . And when you finally did, he’d accepted it with chilling calm; no fight, no anger, just a quiet nod.

You force the thought from your mind, stepping off the tube and onto the platform.

Once you’re home, you kick off your shoes, lock the door, and sink into the quiet solace of your apartment. You’re pouring a long-awaited glass of wine when your phone vibrates again.

The screen lights up, the same unknown number.

"I hope you got home safe."

The pit in your stomach returns.

It started off with little things.

Strange texts that seemed harmless enough. Then came the letters, always printed and neatly folded, never including a return address.

At first, you brushed them off. It was easy to wave away the unease, convincing yourself that it was a prank, a mix-up, maybe just a wrong number. They were never addressed specifically to you anyway.

A little discomfort, nothing more. But as the days turned into weeks, the messages began to change.

They weren’t just random or generic anymore; they became specific, too personal, with a familiar vocabulary that made your skin crawl. Whoever was sending them seemed to know you intimately; your routines and habits.

Things you had never shared with anyone.

The messages were like an invisible set of eyes, always watching from places you couldn’t see.

You still remember the first time you felt true fear. It was a Friday night when your phone rang, and you answered to hear nothing but dead silence.

No voice, no background noise, just the suffocating, empty void on the other end of the line. Stunned into silence, you waited, but the call never broke the silence.

Eventually, you hung up, convincing yourself that it was nothing, probably a misdial. But then the calls started coming more frequently. And with each passing second you had to listen to the silence on the other end, your unease grew.

The letters were even worse.

They began appearing not only in your mailbox, but slipped under your door as well, tucked into the gaps like sinister little secrets.

You remember holding one, your fingers trembling as you read the words, each line making your apartment feel smaller, as if the walls themselves were closing in on you. The messages never outright threatened, but their tone was unsettling, implying that the sender knew where you lived, what you did, even how you spent your quietest, most private moments.

Before they were impersonal, now they included your name as well.

You really shouldn’t walk alone at night.

The city is full of dangers, and someone as precious as you deserves better. I watch you sometimes, you know.

I watch the way you clutch your bag a little tighter when the shadows loom over you, how you shiver when the wind cuts through your coat. It makes me want to keep you safe.

You work so hard, staying late at the office. It must be exhausting, always pushing yourself. But don’t worry. I’m never far away. Watching. Waiting. Ready to step in if you ever need me.

Sleep well tonight.

I’ll be thinking of you.

The animalistic fear the letters brought out in you caused tears of despair to shine in your eyes. Never before had you felt so unsettled; robbed of your sanctuary and stripped bare under the unrelenting gaze of an unknown threat.

When you thought things couldn’t get worse, you notice it in the corner of your eye whenever you get off the tube. Someone has started following you home.

As with the other terrors, it began subtly.

A shadow moving just out of your line of sight, footsteps that kept the same rhythm as yours, only to fall silent when you turn to look.

Initially, you brushed it off as paranoia. The strange texts, calls and letters had made your nerves stand on high alert at all times. So you walk faster, clenching your keys in your hand, telling yourself you were imagining it.

But by now, it’s become undeniable.

On more than one occasion, you’ve glanced back and caught the outline of a figure lingering just far enough away to melt into the darkness.

Once, you thought you saw someone duck into an alley when you turned around too quickly, and the image haunted you for days.

Each night, the walk from the tube station to your building feels longer, the streetlights casting distorted shadows that play tricks on your mind. In retaliation, you cross the street randomly, change your route, but the feeling never fades.

The worst part is that the presence doesn’t make itself known.

It doesn’t shout or approach.

It simply waits.

Watches.

Now, whenever you walk home, every gust of wind and rustling of leaves makes your heart beat fast and hard. You know someone is out there, tracking your every move.

Always lurking just out of reach.

The world around you has become a riddle of dark mysteries and hidden threats, and the sense of safety you once had feels like a distant memory.

You feel it every evening, that unnerving prickling sensation of being watched.

At the office, you catch glimpses of people who seem too familiar, faces that never linger but somehow stay with you.

On the train, you feel eyes on you, shadowy figures that seem to mirror your every move. Once or twice, you’ve even taken detours down different streets, slipping into shops just to lose whoever’s following you. But somehow, they’re always there, just at the edge of your vision, close enough to make your skin crawl but too far to confront.

Tonight, as you step onto the station platform, your heart hammers in your chest. It’s crowded, people weaving through the tiled halls, but even among the sea of strangers, you feel that presence nearby, watching.

You keep your head down, slipping into the crowd with hurried steps, your fingers gripping the strap of your bag like a lifeline. Your throat feels tight, and each breath becomes an effort as you board the train and move toward an empty seat.

Sitting by the window, you try to focus on the reflection in the glass. Your face looks pale and unfamiliar; a distorted version of yourself, yet it’s the background you watch carefully, searching for that familiar silhouette or lingering stare. The lights flicker across the train’s interior as it pulls away from the platform, the steady hum of the tracks doing little to calm the creeping dread in your chest.

You finally reach your destination and exit quickly, walking down the street to your house in hurried steps.

Your eyes scan the dimly lit surroundings, every shadow and alleyway filling with the possibility of someone lurking. Halfway to your building, you spot it—a figure across the road, barely illuminated by the faint glow of the surrounding lamp-posts, watching you.

They don’t approach.

They don’t call out.

Just watch.

A chill crawls up your spine, but you force yourself to keep walking.

Each step feels like a lifetime as you quicken your pace, the distance to your front door stretching endlessly before you. The familiar sound of footsteps follows behind, soft but persistent, a reminder that you’re not alone.

You fumble for your keys, fingers shaking far too much for you to be graceful, and the moment the door swings open, you slip inside, pushing it shut and twisting the lock with a desperate click.

Safe.

At least, you think so.

You move to the window, pulling the curtains tightly closed and double-checking every lock, heart still racing. The eerie silence of your apartment only serves to amplify the tension, and you try to steady your breathing, pressing your back against the wall, reassuring yourself that you’re alone. But then your eyes fall to your phone on the counter, the screen lights up, casting a cold, unsettling glow across the room.

Another message from the unknown number.

“You looked scared tonight. No need to be. I’m just looking out for you.”

Your breath catches in your throat, and the room suddenly feels colder.

They were there, watching, close enough to see the fear in your eyes. You swipe through the messages, reading the last few words again and again, each one making it feel like the blood in your veins slowly turns to ice.

Every instinct tells you to delete everything, to block the number, but it won’t change the fact that they were there. They saw you. They know where you live, and they know you’re alone.

You check the locks once more, willing yourself to believe it’s just a cruel prank. But deep down, you know this is no mistake, no accident.

Tomorrow, you tell yourself, you’ll file a report. You’ll talk to the police, maybe find a friend to stay with for a few nights. But as you lay down, staring into the dark, the words echo in your mind,

"No need to be scared. I’m just looking out for you."

You close your eyes, but the sleep you need feels too far away to be attainable, and all you can feel is that presence.

Just beyond the walls.

Watching.

Waiting.

It’s late at night when your phone buzzes again, the screen lighting up the dark room.

You’ve become almost numb to the sound of notifications, each one feeling like another weight to the stones of anxiety heavy on your chest.

You almost dismiss it, too exhausted to care for more ominous messages, but then that rush of fear washes over you once more.

It’s not a text message.

It’s a video, sent from the same unknown number that’s haunted you for weeks.

You hesitate, one finger hovering over the screen as dread, dark and thick like petrol, pools in your stomach.

Slowly, you tap to open it, holding your breath in fear of moving even slightly. The video is shaky, filmed through a crevice from a distance, as though captured by someone hiding just out of sight.

Still, you recognise the setting instantaneously.

The Targaryen summer house.

The video depicts two silhouettes; one laying on the bed of one of the many guest rooms of the vast mansion, the other with their head between the first person’s thighs.

The filmer zooms in on the long, silver hair of the person kneeling next to the bed, and your heart beats so fiercely it feels like it’ll leap out of your chest as the camera moves upwards, until it lands on your face, twisted in pleasure.

You remember the day clearly.

It was Aemond’s brother Aegon’s yearly summer party, an elaborate excuse for the Targaryen’s oldest boy to get shit-faced with the elite of Westeros.

Aemond, never a fan of crowds or parties, had lured you into one of the guest bedrooms for some ‘quality time’ together, which quickly escalated into sex on the crisp, expensive cotton sheets.

You raise the volume, and can clearly hear the shameless moans leaving your mouth as your ex boyfriend makes you come on his tongue.

Your stomach turns.

The camera lingers far too long on your face, zooming in and out, capturing not only the sounds of your bliss, but each twitch and change in your face.

An overpowering sense of nausea washes over you as you realize that even then, someone was there.

Someone was watching, recording your most vulnerable moments from the shadows.

The video cuts off abruptly, and a new message appears beneath it,

“Even then, I was closer than you thought.”

Your blood runs cold, and your hands start to shake.

The message confirms your deepest fear.

This isn’t a recent obsession.

Whoever this person is, they’ve been watching you for far longer than you imagined, lurking in the background of your life, inserting themselves into your most private memories.

You try to breathe, to think clearly, but the walls of your apartment once again close in on you, trapping you inside your body, fighting to run yet with nowhere to go.

The sense of violation is suffocating, and questions flood your mind.

How long have they been there?

How much have they seen?

Desperate and out of options, you swipe your thumb over the screen of your phone, and call the only other person who might have some answers.

Aemond’s fingers tap restlessly against the rim of his coffee cup. The twitch in the corner of his mouth tells you he's annoyed, and the speed of which his eye darts around the coffee shop, refusing to look directly at you, lets you know it’s your fault.

You’re not sure if he can see the tears shining in your eyes, he’s barely looked at you since you came. He always saw crying as a sign of a weak mind, and so you do your best not to blink, scared a tear will fall and reveal just how pathetic you feel.

It’s not like you’re doing a good job hiding it anyway. The dark circles under your eyes and the paranoid pleading in your gaze betray all your recent troubles.

“I-, I’d like to thank you for coming here after how things… ended”

Your voice is steady, yet there is a thickness in your throat that makes you sound a bit strange, like you’re trying too hard to remain neutral. A performance you’re not quite pulling off, despite your best efforts.

“Mm”

He’s still not looking at you, stern face reflecting both disinterest and agitation. The relentless tapping of his finger continues, practically screaming at you to hurry up and confess why you asked your ex to meet up.

“I’ll get straight to it. Yesterday, I received a video of… us. At that party where we-”, you search his face for recognition, chase his eye so it meets yours. Your voice lowers, practically a whisper,

“-you know”

“No, I don’t”

“Aegon’s summer party… We snuck off to the guest room and-, you know”

Aemond finally lets his gaze meet yours, inspecting your features with a narrowed, suspicious eye.

Does he not believe you?

Before he can call you crazy, or dismiss your clear distress with a condescending laugh, you pull out your phone and show him the video. It’s a bit dark and gritty, but it’s clear that it’s the two of you, Aemond’s head between your legs, your own thrown back on the bed in bliss.

“Do-, do you know who could’ve done this?”

Aemond takes your phone and watches the video closely, pausing and zooming in on your half-naked body. He’s seen you bare and crazed with desire countless times when you were dating, yet your cheeks heat up and you feel unexplainably vulnerable as he carefully examines the video.

After a few moments of contemplation, he hums again and hands your phone back,

“I’ve no clue. I’ll ask Criston for the guest list, probably just one of Aegon’s insufferable friends having a laugh”

He stands to leave, and you momentarily panic at the thought of being alone again. Just as he turns towards the door, your hand desperately grabs the fabric of his coat, and those tears that had been threatening to spill from your eyes do just that,

“Aemond, please, I have more”

You sound so small. So defeated.

He looks at you with the same harsh, unimpressed look even as you silently cry.

So cold.

Maybe it’s what you deserve?

“I need you, Aemond. Please just stay for a few more minutes and let me explain”

He’s frozen for a while, contemplating whether he should indulge you or leave, surely eager to dismiss you just as you had done to him, only a month ago.

With a sigh, his features soften somewhat, and he steps back, once again taking the seat opposite you.

“Go on then”

“I-, I’ve been getting all these-”, your voice breaks into a sob as you speak about your recent nightmare.

You hadn’t dared speak to anyone about your recent terror, too afraid to acknowledge that what had occurred wasn’t simply some insane fever dream.

“-all these messages and letters from the same number that sent the video. I don’t know why but this person seems obsessed with me”

You hide your face behind one of your hands, mortified by the humiliation of openly crying at a cafe, next to your ex nonetheless.

Aemond observes you for a moment before reaching out to place his hand over yours, warming the skin of your cheek. He catches one of the tears falling from your lashes with his thumb,

“Send me screenshots of it all and I’ll have Criston’s team look through them. You know we own majority of King’s Guard Security, we’ll find whoever’s harassing you”

A sigh of relief escapes your lips, and for the first time in weeks, you feel like you can breathe without a heavy stone of anxiety crushing your lungs.

You grab Aemond’s hand, warm and strong in your trembling grip, and squeeze it slightly,

“Thank you, Aemond”

Aemond convinces you to take a taxi home, lock the door, and distract your unease with something calming, like taking a bath.

You do just that, and the warm water enveloping you feels wonderfully comforting.

You sink deeper in the tub, disappearing into the calm warmth. Just as you breathe out a deep breath that had been stuck in your throat for far too long, a sharp knock to your front door disturbs your peace.

It’s as if a bucket of ice cold water has been dumped over you, and suddenly you shiver in the warm bath, feeling a chill overtaking you from within.

Another knock.

You’re frozen in place.

Immobile.

Stuck in fear.

You don’t know how long you sit in the tub, waiting for the courage to stand, dry off, and peek out of the bathroom.

There are no more knocks, and when your fingers are wrinkly and stiff, you finally get out.

Peering out of the bathroom and at your front door, everything looks the same. Your eyes dart around the room until they fall on the small, white piece of paper on the floor.

You pick it up with trembling fingers, and open it.

Before, the letters you’d received had been neatly placed in envelopes and never hand-written.

This note is different.

Let me in.

Tears of desperation well up in your eyes once more and you toss the piece of paper away as if it had burned you.

Utterly hopeless, you reach for your phone, dialing the number to the one person that had been occupying your mind all day.

Aemond sends for a car to come pick you up, going as far as instructing the driver to personally come get you from your flat since you feared the stalker was still somewhere nearby, watching you.

It was Criston Cole himself that showed up at your door, a high-ranking security specialist at King’s Guard Security, often invited to do risk analyses for the government.

Being reduced to a chauffeur was definitely far below his station, but when Aemond Targaryen hands you a task personally, you comply.

You wearily eye the pistol strapped to his waist as he walks you to his car. Your glad that precautions are taken to ensure your safety, but also devastated by the fact that it's even necessary.

Will this be your new normal?

The drive to Aemond’s place doesn’t take long, and when you arrive, he offers you a slightly awkward hug in reassurance before pouring you a double whiskey,

“To calm your nerves”

You accept the drink and take a seat on the leather sofa placed in the middle of the large room. In front of you, tall windows show an exquisite view of King’s Landing, including all famous landmarks like Maegor’s Holdfast. To your right, tall bookcases of dark wood line the wall, cutting into the modern sleekness of Aemond’s home, making it more him.

You take a large sip of the whiskey, not minding the sharp taste that overtakes your mouth. The numbness of alcohol feels inviting after being on edge for so long.

Aemond takes a seat next to you, his knee bumping into yours as he sits closer than necessary on the wide sofa,

“You can stay here as long as you want”

“Thank you, Aemond. That’s very kind of you”

A small smile forms on his lips at your compliment, and he looks down at his hands. It’s almost a bashful look, and suddenly you guilty for the way you had so cold-heartedly dumped him.

Sure, he had been controlling, but if the last couple of weeks had proven anything, it was the fact that danger really lurks around every corner.

Maybe he had only been so controlling because he knew how dangerous King’s Landing truly is for young women? He had direct access to all cases filed with King’s Guard Security, he’s surely seen a lot.

When you’ve finished your glass, Aemond wordlessly tops it up.

You finish that too, chatting a bit about work and what you’d been up to recently, prompted by Aemond asking and eagerly listening.

Your cheeks feel hot from the whiskey, and when you’ve finished your second drink, you place it on the glass-covered coffee table and lean into Aemond only a little more, surprisingly relaxed.

Your eyes feel heavy as you look up at him,

“Thank you. For everything today”

When he smiles, those dimples that you once adored appear in his cheeks. He’s so beautiful in the soft light. So inviting.

“Don’t mention it. The only thing I care about is that you’re safe”

You’re not sure if it’s a sudden wave for adoration, the long-awaited relief, or the whiskey, but when you stretch your neck to kiss him, Aemond cups your cheek and runs his tongue over your lower lip.

Your fingers feel tingly as they play with the buttons of Aemond’s crisp shirt. Your face is still comfortably warm, and when his kisses travel down to your neck, you sigh in content and throw your head back.

You watch the skyline of King’s Landing through the tall windows of Aemond’s home; white lights decorating the skyscrapers competing in height. There’s a strange, red dot decorating one of them, occasionally blinking.

Your eyes narrow to inspect it further, but quickly close as Aemond’s fingers slip into your underwear,

“I’ve missed this”, he murmurs into your neck, and sucks at the skin.

“Me too”, you sigh.

His fingers know exactly how to work you, and after a few more tender kisses to your neck and deliberate flicks to your clit, you meet his fingers with your hips, desperate for more.

Just as you’re about to fall apart, Aemond withdraws his hand.

He slowly licks your essence from his sticky fingers, amused by your pathetic frown,

“Please, Aemond. Don’t be mean”

Seeing him savour the taste of your cunt only makes it ache more.

“I’m not. You know what I want”

Maybe if you had less alcohol in your body, you’d realise how bad this is.

Fucking your ex is never a good idea.

But the heat of the whiskey warming your senses makes you reckless, and you smile as you kneel on the floor in front of him.

With eager fingers, you pull down his zipper and take his cock in hand, already hard and pulsating in arousal. Wasting no time, you lean forward to lick the tip before ungraciously taking him into your mouth, sucking as if your life depended on it.

Aemond tuts above you, a disapproving noise you know from when you were dating. You look up just as he moves his hands to cradle your face, mischief dancing in his eyes,

“You can do better than that” he says and pushes deeper, until his cock is in your throat and you can’t breathe.

He releases a prolonged sigh and stays buried in your throat, stealing air from you.

The harsh pounding between your thighs intensifies as the oxygen to your brain cuts off. You look up at Aemond, who regards you with a sinister grin, and shoves his foot between your kneeling legs, pushing at your clit.

It’s the last push you need, a playful kick to your swollen nub, and you come with his cock still deep in your throat.

With no air to inhale and an excruciatingly consuming orgasm coursing through your body, you feel too light-headed to keep your eyes open, ready to succumb and disappear into the abyss of bliss that is the orgasm Aemond forces out of you.

Before you lose consciousness, Aemond pulls out, a glistening sting of spit falling from your lips and spilling down your chin.

Your ears are pounding from the rush of finally being able to breathe again, yet you hear it, like an echo in the distance.

He’s laughing.

“Fuck, that’s a good little slut”, he praises you, “Getting off on choking on my cock”

He catches the drool on your chin with one hand, and forces you to stand with the other. Your legs still shake, and you stagger forward, almost falling into him.

He laughs again, amused or condescending, you can't tell, and manoeuvres you to kneel on the sofa facing away from the city landscape.

He brings the hand covered in your drool between your cheeks, and trails it down to your clit. You gasp at the sting of overstimulation, but Aemond’s hand doesn’t budge,

“You weren’t supposed to come from that, dirty girl”, he taunts you with a playful yet harsh smack to your ass. You whine and try to pull away, it’s all too much.

“I wanted to tease you for a bit longer”, he whispers into your ear, and you can feel the leaking tip of his cock press between your cheeks,

“I won’t be mean though. My precious girl deserves better”

He slides in easily, the mess of your slickness, spit, and Aemond’s precum easing his path.

You lean forward to brace yourself against the backrest of the sofa as he starts to fuck you, pace quick and hard, just as you remember him liking it.

"Aemond", you moan and he goes harder, the smacks of his hips hitting the meat of your ass loud and vulgar in the quiet night,

“Say it again”, he orders and pulls at your hair so your head falls back, “Just like that, baby, you look so fucking hot when I fuck you”

When you don’t comply fast enough, he pulls at your hair harder. You cry out his name, and he rewards your submission with a kiss to your cheek,

“Good girl”

After that day, things change.

Aemond sends cars to pick you up from work so you won’t have to get on the tube. He distracts you from the eerie shiver that’s settled into your bones by bringing you out to dinner, to the cinema, to a new wine bar.

He allows you to lean against him whenever you talk about the nightmare that the last few weeks have been. He even puts an arm around you, and occasionally presses his lips to the crown of your head. And he always listens carefully.

The controlling tendencies that had previously chased you away now provide comfort.

He knows where you are at all times, so no one can steal you away.

He always answers your calls, so you never have to feel alone.

He always meets your needs, whether it’s letting you talk shit about your boss for hours, or excitedly chat about a book you just read.

He's always near.

Always ready.

Always watching.

A/N: Thanks for reading! If you liked this and want more, check out my fic The Commune!

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagines #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen angst #my fics

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exorcxqsm · 2 months ago

Text

Only a fool would bargain with the leader of Onychinus

Word Count: 5,8k

tags - WARNINGS: mdni, reader isn’t the lnds!mc, explicit sexual content, first time sex (not virginity loss) alterations to the main story, dr/y humping, thigh riding, b/egging, f!receiving oral, p in v, unprotected sex, creampies, squirting, dirty talking, use of pet names (kitten, sweetie, baby), violence, mentions of injuries.

Notes:Some of you may have already read my fic, The Price of Desire, in which the reader’s evol is mentioned. If you have, you’ll notice that the evol is the same in this story; however, there is no connection between the two. The concept of a reader with this ability was too appealing for me to resist, and since it was briefly mentioned in the previous fic, I decided to explore it further in this one. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it! All likes and reblogs are appreciated. :3

Going on missions for Sylus was nothing new to you by now. You had spent years by his side since he first found you, a wild creature desperate for survival. Sometimes, you could still recall how close you had come to killing each other back then. You had been hunted by nearly every illegal underground group, all seeking your evol, and while on the run, you stumbled upon him like a scared and feral animal.

You had instinctively tried to attack him on sight; it was all you knew how to do, having fought for your freedom for as long as you could remember. You were no stranger to the danger he represented—the bloodthirsty leader of Onychinus. If other groups sought you as a mere experiment for your power, you could only imagine what Onychinus would do if they got their hands on you.

The moment you realized the person you had fallen headfirst into was the white-haired menace himself, you had attempted to fight him with everything you had. Sylus, of course, dodged every single one of your attacks effortlessly, but he was merely toying with you, for he possessed something you were unaware of; he could not be killed.

You had always been feared for your lethal evol—one touch from your bare fingers could send someone halfway to the other world. You were an extraordinary weapon, yet Sylus was not deterred; he was intrigued, even enamored by you.

With his energy manipulation, it was impossible for you to harm him, particularly when he thrived on high levels of adrenaline and excitement.

So, even as you forced yourself to keep trying to touch him, desperate to end the chaos, he reveled in your fierce determination. He loved witnessing the fire in your eyes as you believed you could take him down. When he finally grew tired of your little game and decided to put an end to it, he was blindsided by a fact he had overlooked.

While he had learned nearly everything there was to know about your evol and your abilities, he did not realize one important thing; you were immune to his mist.

No matter how fiercely the red and black tendrils curled around you, the moment your flesh made contact with them, they vanished into thin air.

Sylus had nearly salivated when he realized the challenge you presented. It had been far too long since he had encountered someone so intriguing, and he was determined that you wouldn’t walk out of that valley without becoming his.

That’s how you found yourself in his group now. Unlike everyone else, Sylus had made a promise that night: if you went home with him willingly, he would never force you to use your abilities for his research or personal gain. He needed you to choose to be there if you were going to help him.

His condition was simple: think of aiding him, and in return, you would gain his protection, a life free from fear and the constant need to run for your freedom.

You had taken a significant risk when you decided to go with him, but the white-haired man kept his word. It took you months to contemplate helping him instead of merely enjoying the luxury of his lifestyle, but he was patient. In time, you became not only his most valuable asset but also his right hand. Whenever he was out of town for deals or missions, you handled matters back home on his behalf.

Deep down, back then you knew he wasn’t just a kind-hearted man simply looking to help a struggling girl off the street. What he truly sought to protect was your evol because he believed you would eventually come around to assist him when he needed it most. So when you finally did, it was no surprise to him. He had merely given you a subtle nod and handed you the first files.

Now, two years later, you stood beside him at one of the many auctions taking place in the N109 Zone. He was after a particularly important and valuable protocore—one he had pursued for years—and today presented his chance to possess it.

Being next to him not only amplified his chances of leaving unscathed without extensive negotiation—after all, who was crazy enough to challenge the leader of Onychinus and his lethal right-hand woman?—but it also made it easier for him to operate, as you inevitably drew attention and distraction from other bidders.

His hand curled possessively around your waist as he proudly showcased you to the crowd. The dress you wore was as red as his eyes, hugging your every curve and accentuating your figure. Your hair was styled in a simple updo, revealing your back to the admiring gazes around you.

The less fabric you wore, the more difficult it was for his mist to approach you, and that was one thing you clung to. You knew he wouldn’t hurt you—he had come to not only depend on you but to trust you as well. Still, you maintained a small resistance, a defiance that you weren’t ready to surrender, no matter how much it irritated him.

Your gloves were snugly in place, allowing you to interact with him without draining his energy, thus enabling you to warn others of the imminent danger your touch posed. One slip of fabric, and whoever you touched would be lost forever.

“Mr. Sylus, I didn’t think you’d make it tonight,” a distant voice interrupted your thoughts, drawing both of your attention. A young man addressed your boss, his tone a mix of surprise and formality.

“Not happy to see me?” Sylus replied, his voice smooth as silk and sweet as honey, the smugness evident in his expression as he arched a white brow at the man.

“Of course, sir! I’m sorry, sir. I just thought you’d be out of town—”

“Change of plans." Sylus muttered, cutting him off with a tight smile before guiding you forward, his hand resting firmly on the small of your back.

As you walked toward the room where his meeting would take place, you tilted your face up to catch a glimpse of his profile. “He’s right, you know,” you began, curiosity lacing your words. “Weren’t you supposed to return next Tuesday?”

Sylus’s smirk deepened at your question. “If I had known you’d be so disappointed by my early arrival, sweetie, I would have made sure to come back yesterday.”

You scoffed at his remark, subtly flexing your back to shake his arm off, but his grip only tightened, keeping you glued to his side. “Be good now. You know how important tonight is,” He leaned in closer, his hot breath sending a shiver down your spine as it tickled your ear. “Don’t screw this up.”

You couldn’t shake the uneasiness that crawled up your spine from the subtle threat lacing his tone. Sylus had been under immense pressure lately, but you refused to let him take it out on you.

“Sylus.”

He let out an impatient huff as you halted him just outside the door of your final destination, but he turned his body to face you fully, his expression a mix of frustration and intensity.

“I’m not your enemy,” you asserted, holding his gaze with unwavering resolve. “Many people work for you, but aside from Luke and Kieran, no one stands by your side with the same loyalty I do. I know you’ve been struggling, but I’m the last person you want against you right now.”

“Oh, is that right, kitten?” His brows furrowed, drawing closer until your chests nearly touched. To an outsider, you might have appeared to be lovers, but the tension between you was palpable and lethal. “And why is that? Because you’re oh-so-dangerous?”

His provoking smirk ignited your anger, and while you couldn’t fathom what was going through his mind, you chose to avoid making a scene. Stepping away from him, you tried to regain your composure. “They’re waiting for us.”

Before you could take another step toward the door, you were abruptly lifted off the ground, hanging upside down over Sylus’s shoulder.

“What the hell are you doing?” you whispered-yelled, frantically scanning for prying eyes. Your surprise deepened when, from the shadows, Luke and Kieran rushed toward you, effortlessly pulling you from Sylus’s grip. “What—”

“Take her to the car and wait for me,” Sylus commanded sharply, his tone clipped and leaving no room for negotiation. As you were carried away from him and the room, you felt a pang of frustration.

“Let me down!” you practically shouted as the twins put distance between you and the auction building.

“Sorry, ma’am, no can do.”

“Yeah, ma’am, we’re sorry, but no one bypasses the boss's orders!”

Your heart thumped loudly in your ears as the events unfolded, anger and frustration boiling within you at how Sylus had treated you. It was the first time since you started working for him that he had dismissed you so callously, and you couldn’t ignore the pang of hurt that coiled deep in your stomach.

You sat in the backseat of the car while the twins chatted and bantered in the front, oblivious to your turmoil. It felt surreal, as if they were living in a different world. Maybe you were overthinking it—after all, you hadn’t expected him to disregard you like that, especially during an auction so crucial to him. You were valuable to him, weren’t you? He needed you by his side, didn’t he?

Your thoughts spiraled until they were abruptly shattered by a loud bang. Before you could process the sound, part of the building in front of you exploded in a fiery eruption. Wait—was that the floor where the auction was being held? The very floor Sylus was on?

Without a second thought, you threw open the car door, sprinting toward the burning building despite the twins’ frantic shouts urging you to stop. Your mind was consumed by one thought: Sylus. He couldn’t be hurt. He couldn’t die. Foolish girl, not even his evol could save him from an explosion of that magnitude.

Your breaths came in ragged gasps, sweat clung to your skin as you pushed your limits, charging up the stairs to the floor where you had been just forty minutes earlier. You stumbled multiple times, falling to your knees, but the thought of Sylus pushed you onward.

When you finally reached the floor, it was a scene of devastation. The area lay in ruins, engulfed in smoke and chaos, with scattered survivors struggling to breathe amidst the wreckage. You focused your eyes and ears, straining to find Sylus amidst the agonizing cries of others. Time blurred as you searched, exhaustion creeping in and threatening to overwhelm you.

Just when you thought you might pass out, you spotted it—silver locks, now dirty and disheveled, just a few feet away. Panic surged through you as you fell to your knees and crawled with the last remnants of strength you had left. When you finally reached him, your heart stopped. You had never seen Sylus so vulnerable, so exposed.

You reached out to touch his face, your irritation intensifying at the realization that you still had to keep your gloves on, unable to feel his soft, dirt-streaked skin. With the last remnants of your strength, you shook him gently, your voice coming out hoarse as you tried to call his name.

Slowly, his eyes peeled open, and you let out the breath you had been holding. Unfortunately, you had inhaled too much smoke, resulting in a violent cough that wracked your body.

Clutching your chest, you hunched over, trying to cough out the smoke while moving away from him. Just then, you felt his fingers wrap around your wrist, tugging you down to him. You attempted to focus on his face, searching for any injuries, but your eyes were tearing up, and your vision was blurred from the smoke-filled atmosphere.

Just as you thought you might lose consciousness, his voice broke through, shaky and hoarse but still as sharp as a knife. “What are you doing in here, kitten?” His eyes were half-lidded, and he groaned as he struggled to sit up. “Didn’t I tell you to wait for me outside?”

You tried to help him rise, but his heavy body only dragged you down, sending you sprawling onto the floor. As he noticed your condition, his eyes sharpened with concern, and his features turned serious. He began removing his coat, which was now dirty and full of holes.

“Sylus—you need to get out of here,” you urged, trying to push him away as he attempted to cover you completely with his coat.

“Don’t talk right now, sweetie.” His movements were urgent, almost desperate, as he made sure no part of your upper body was exposed. Your hands were now firmly pinned to your torso beneath his coat. “And don’t fight me.”

His fingers came to your face, squeezing gently until your lips formed a pout and your attention was solely on him. “Stubborn little kitten,” he muttered, his voice a mix of frustration and affection.

Just before you slipped into unconsciousness, you felt the tendrils of his red-black mist enveloping you, pushing through your evol’s resistance and carrying you away from the chaos.

When you finally opened your eyes, it took a moment for your surroundings to come into focus. The unmistakable scent of Sylus’s mattress enveloped you, grounding you in reality. You were back at the mansion.

Your limbs felt heavy, and a dull ache throbbed in your head. Every part of your body screamed for you to stay in bed, to drift back into sleep and forget everything that had happened before you lost consciousness. But your mind was fixated on one thing: Sylus.

With a groan, you attempted to sit up, quickly glancing over your body. To your relief, you realized you were freshly cleaned and dressed in one of your nightgowns, with no significant injuries aside from a few scratches on your skin.

You took a moment to steady yourself, ensuring your vision wouldn’t fade to black before you attempted to walk across the room toward the door. Sylus’s office was just down the hallway, and as you stepped outside, you could faintly hear Luke and Kieran’s voices drifting from inside. You paused, heart pounding, and when you heard Sylus’s gruff tone, a wave of relief washed over you. He was okay.

After a brief moment, you knocked once before turning the doorknob and peeking through the small opening. Sylus’s gaze met yours immediately, and the twins turned to regard you with their rare smiles. It wasn’t often they dropped their masks, even in the mansion, but now their boyish features shone through. Their red hair was pulled back into matching messy ponytails, and a hint of blush colored their cheeks as they took in your appearance in the gown.

Sylus coughed discreetly, and the twins exchanged glances before standing up to give you two some privacy.

As they made their way to the door, Kieran paused to ruffle your hair playfully, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “You gave us a scare there, little crow.”

You regarded both twins with a small, apologetic smile before turning your full attention to the white-haired man seated behind his desk. He still wore his torn shirt, which left his muscular frame fully exposed. With a languid movement, he rolled his chair away from the desk and beckoned you with a finger.

Taking slow, deliberate steps toward him, you felt a wave of self-consciousness wash over you as his intense gaze roamed over your form. Despite the butterflies in your stomach, you approached and stood before him, his legs slightly apart, causing your knees to brush against the inside of his thighs as he looked up at you.

Your eyes fell to his toned chest, now marred with scratches and bruises—evidence the damage inflicted, perhaps a sign that he was running low on evol energy and unable to heal completely.

“Are you okay?” Your voice emerged as a barely audible whisper, still tinged with hoarseness. You clasped your hands behind your back, fidgeting awkwardly.

You weren’t quite sure what had come over you; you had never before found yourself in a situation where you needed to actively express your concern for Sylus until tonight, and you hoped he wouldn’t recall too much of what had transpired in that building.

“Worried, kitten?” he asked, a small smirk curling at the corners of his lips as his gaze swept over your body. His fingers twitched with the urge to reach out and touch you, yet he seemed equally torn, grappling with the worry that had gripped him when you had passed out in his arms.

You sniffled softly, your eyes darting anywhere but to him, your body tense and rigid as if your bones were locking into place. Instead of answering his question, you opted to redirect the conversation. “Do we know what caused the explosion?”

His expression was unreadable, and you noticed his jaw tick slightly as he processed your words. After a moment, he exhaled slowly, raising his hand to brush his knuckles gently across your arm. A shiver coursed through you at the contact, and you could see the corners of his lips curl slightly at your reaction. This time, he didn’t bother to hide himself from you.

“I did.”

“What?” Your voice came out louder than intended, earning a deep, rumbling chuckle from Sylus. He relaxed further into his chair, locking his carmine eyes onto yours with an intensity that sent your heart racing.

“What are you talking about, Sylus? When I came in there…” It was becoming increasingly difficult to mask the emotion in your voice. “When I came in, you had fainted. What would have happened to you if I hadn’t found you in time?”

Amusement danced freely in his eyes at your small outburst. You truly were exquisite in your concern. “You underestimate me too much, sweetie.”

“You’re the one underestimating your enemies, Sylus!” You raised your voice, your hands gesturing in disbelief. “Just because you’re the leader of Onychinus doesn’t mean they can’t get to you if you’re unconscious.”

“Burnt men can’t walk, kitten.”

A small gasp escaped your lips at the speed and bluntness of his response. His smugness only fueled your anger at his reckless behavior. Leaning down, you gripped the arms of his chair, effectively caging him in. You were about to respond when you suddenly realized the position you had put yourself in. It gave him a full view of your breasts, the fabric of your nightgown flowing away from your skin and leaving little to the imagination.

Your ears and cheeks burned a deep crimson as you tried to pull away just as quickly as you'd leaned down. However, Sylus’s arm had already wrapped around your waist, anchoring you in place and pulling you impossibly closer. Your breath hitched when you noticed the way his pupils had dilated, his lips parting slightly as he fixated on your slowly hardening nipples.

“Sylus…” Your voice was barely a whisper now, heat pooling in your core under his intense gaze.

Finally, Sylus’s eyes met yours, and he began to stroke your back slowly, his tone low as if he feared shattering the delicate bubble that enveloped you both. “The explosion; It was my plan all along. Why else would I want you out and away from the building, sweetie?”

A frown crossed your face at his admission. Despite your initial shock, your body grew more compliant under his gentle strokes as he pulled you in, guiding you to straddle his thigh. His red irises darkened just a bit when your pulsing core made contact with his jeans and you felt a rush of heat flood your cheeks at the realization that he could probably feel just how wet you were.

Yet, he continued speaking, his voice smooth and steady. “Tonight had no other way of going. It was necessary and inevitable.”

“But why?” Your eyes had softened since you’d first entered his room, and you found yourself relaxing more beneath his touch as he explained the events of the night.

“Because, kitten, tonight’s transaction was off the table the moment it was proposed by the other side, a few days back when I was still away."

By now, confusion began to cloud your understanding of Sylus’s motives. “But…” Your gaze drifted to his desk, where numerous files lay scattered. “Is this why you came back earlier? Tonight’s transaction was for that protocore you needed, Sylus. I thought nothing could screw this up for you. Weren’t you after it for years?”

Sylus let out a small scoff, his lips pressing into a thin line as he studied your face intently. “You never asked me what the price of that protocore was, kitten.”

Curiosity piqued, you looked up at him again, instinctively leaning closer. Your breasts brushed against his chest, heightening the tension between you as if his answer were a secret he needed to share. “And what was the price?”

“You.”

Your eyes widened in shock, and a dark cloud crossed his features as he spoke. His grip on your waist tightened slightly, causing you to squirm on his thigh, which elicited a low grunt from him.

Your emotions were a chaotic mess, thoughts swirling together and leaving you breathless as you tried to process what he was implying. “So what you’re saying is…”

“The deal was off the table the moment they thought you were for sale.” Sylus’s leg bounced suddenly, and you couldn’t suppress the moan that escaped your lips. Your hands instinctively flew out to clutch the fabric of his open shirt for stability. “I came back because I had to send a message.”

His voice dripped with malice as he continued to move his leg, sending shockwaves of sensation through your core as it ground against his thigh.

The pleasure mixed with confusion made you feel light-headed; even if you wanted to resist, your body had already betrayed you. There was no stopping your hips from chasing the friction, no way to quell the whimpers that escaped your lips. Sylus’s fingers curled tighter around the fabric of your nightgown at the sound.

As you continued to grind against him, he spoke with a dark intensity. “They had to know, kitten; Nobody lives to say they tried to bargain with what belongs to me.”

“I—I don’t belong to you,” you breathed out, unsure whether you were trying to lie to him or to yourself.

“Is this why you’re drenching my thigh, sweetie?” As if to emphasize his point, he bounced his knee again, causing it to press against your sensitive nerves with a force that made you moan involuntarily, your head falling to rest on his shoulder.

“You poor thing,” he cooed in your ear, his hand sliding to your lower back, urging you to grind down against him.

“Tonight—you put yourself in danger, Sylus.” You struggled to form coherent thoughts as you chased your orgasm on his thigh, your mind slowly turning to mush. “That was so stupid, even for you.” You finished your sentence with a moan, and Sylus groaned, instinctively moving his hips upward, his own hard-on seeking friction.

“Were you worried about me, kitten?” He dipped his head to your neck, his lips leaving open-mouthed kisses as he awaited your response, which never came. Sensing your hesitation to voice your concern, his hand slipped between your bodies, his fingertip pressing onto your throbbing clit, making you cry out. “Answer me.”

“I—yes. Yes, I was s'worried.” Your head fell back in bliss, granting him access to suck and nibble on your throat as your hips moved faster and harder. The tight coil in your belly was only a few movements away from bursting. “I thought I’d—”

“Go on.” Sylus urged, his fingers dancing over your clit as he bounced his knee in sync with your movements, relishing the way you were making a mess on him, your whole body heating under his touch.

“I thought I’d lost you.” The words escaped your lips just as your orgasm washed over you, making your vision go black and your entire body shake with its intensity. Sylus’s arms wrapped around you, caging you against his chest as he let you ride it out, offering the small comfort you sought after your confession.

When you finally came down from your high, you were breathless, panting, and a few tears had escaped your eyes. But he was there, holding you gently and running his fingers through your hair. “I’m not that easy to get rid of, sweetie.”

You pushed your head off his chest, your eyes meeting his soft red ones. Without thinking clearly, you reached out to cradle his face. The moment your fingertips made contact with his skin, his whole body visibly flinched, and just like his heartbeat, it felt like time had stopped.

Horrified and regretful, you realized you had let your emotions get the best of you and forgotten about your evol. You stood up from his lap, pressing your hands tightly against your chest, the sound of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears.

Just a few seconds. Just a few seconds, and he’ll wake up, like he always does, right? Doubts gnawed at you; he was so weak after tonight, but his evol would heal him. It had to.

Just when you were about to scream for help, Sylus’s chest began to rise and fall again. His eyes fluttered open, and relief flooded your entire being. Your shoulders slumped, and your body shook, even though he was alright. How could you have been so careless?

“Sweetie.” His voice was soft as he stood from his chair, towering over you. “Look at me.”

You tilted your head up hesitantly, your regrets gnawing at you for what you had just done. You tried to open your mouth to apologize, but no words came out; instead, his lips found yours, silencing any sound you might have made. He threaded his fingers through your hair, pulling gently to angle your head to the side and deepen the kiss until you thought you might faint from lack of breath.

This time, you made sure to keep your hands glued to your sides, not daring to touch him again. When he finally pulled away, you were both panting. He rested his forehead against yours and moved his hand to the back pocket of his pants, retrieving something.

You tilted your head to watch him unfold two pieces of leather gloves. He carefully took your wrist, drawing it toward him before placing the glove on your hand, then moved to the other to do the same. It was a temporary solution, one that frustrated you to no end, but you wouldn’t jeopardize his life just for a touch of his soft skin.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your thoughts crashing over you like a tsunami of negativity at the prospect of harming him. Your frustration only fueled your desperation, and you found yourself clawing at the remnants of his shirt, trying to pull him closer. “I need you, please, Sylus, ’m so sorry.”

Sylus groaned as he felt you tugging him nearer, his own hands finding refuge on your body, touching and caressing anywhere he could reach. “Are you sure, kitten? Once we start, I don’t know if I can hold back.” His voice was low and controlled, while your legs trembled with desire and need.

“Then don’t hold back. Give me everything you have. I can take it, Sylus.” You pressed kisses all over his exposed chest, making him gasp and thin his patience. In one swift motion, you found yourself lifted off the floor, your body cradled in one of his arms as he carried you toward his desk.

“You really know how to bring a man to his knees, sweetie.” He placed you gently on top of the desk, taking his position between your legs. Your lips connected again as his hands deftly worked to rid you of your clothes.

Once you were bare before him, he stepped back, his gaze roaming over your body like a starving man taking in a feast. “Breathtaking.”

He fell to his knees in front of you, throwing your legs over his shoulders with a force that sent you backward, your elbows bracing against the desk for balance. He was too impatient to tease; he dived right in, his tongue lapping at your folds with urgent fervor.

Your back arched immediately, moans and whimpers spilling from your lips as he worked his mouth on your cunt, devouring you as if you were his last meal. Your legs tightened around his head, the pleasure overwhelming, which only made him groan and feast on you harder.

His tongue plunged into your tight hole, sending shockwaves of sensation coursing through your body. You thought you could hold on a little longer, but when his large hand spread across your tummy, pressing down, you exploded in his mouth. Your vision went white as you drenched him, your thighs shaking violently around his head.

The realization of what you had done hit you when he pulled away, his chin and exposed chest glistening with droplets of your release. You shot your gloved hand to cover your mouth, your legs instinctively closing in embarrassment.

Yet, he looked even more exhilarated, his hands gripping your thighs and spreading them apart as he positioned himself between them, his lips finding yours once more. “You’re going to do this again. And this time, you’re going to do it on my cock.”

He pushed you back, a firm hand on your chest as you lay spread out on top of his desk. Your eyes focused on his hands as they deftly undid his pants, pushing them down along with his briefs. The moment you saw his girthy cock—veiny and the tip angry and red for you—your mouth went dry.

You craved to satisfy him as he had satisfied you, but when you tried to sit up, his hand pressed you back down against the desk.

“Not tonight, sweetie. Right now, I just need to be inside you.”

Even though he spoke, he made no move to get on you, waiting for your consent first. You nodded, your eyes clouded with lust.

“Use your words, kitten. I need to hear you.” He was pumping his cock with his hand, his fingers barely wrapping around it. Standing before you in all his naked glory, he resembled a Greek statue, and your chest tightened at how wickedly beautiful he looked.

“Yes. Please, Sy, need you inside me.” Your voice came out breathless, and that was all the confirmation he needed. He wrapped an arm around your thigh, pulling you to the edge of the desk and throwing one of your legs over his shoulder to spread you open exactly as he desired.

He pushed the tip in at first, making you clench around him instinctively, as if trying to suck him deeper. An unsteady breath escaped him, and his body stuttered momentarily. You were killing him in the sweetest way. “So goddamn tight.”

Your eyes rolled back in pleasure as he pushed further inside you, his grip on your thigh tightening the moment he was fully buried in you, his pelvis pressing against yours. You could feel him all the way up into your stomach, and your legs began to shake, even though he remained still.

His breathing had turned erratic, and the moment your hips squirmed forward, his other hand came down to keep you in place. “Shit, baby, don’t move. Give me a moment.”

You were a whimpering mess, sweat beading on your forehead from the anticipation. But the instant he started moving, your whole body unlocked, turning to pudding under his thrusts. He began with a slow, deliberate pace, his lips parting as small grunts escaped him, each thrust igniting the fire building within you.

The more you clenched down on his cock, the faster he moved, until the desk scraped against the marble floor. “Fuck, kitten. You’re squeezing me so tightly.” His voice was thick with lust, and the sound of skin slapping against skin only intensified the fire burning deep in your core. “Do you love my cock that much?”

Your mind had turned to mush, thoughts consumed by how he stretched you and filled you to the brim. You nodded uncontrollably, crying out every time his cock brushed against your sweet spot. “Yes! I love it so much, Sy.”

“Good girl.” Sylus’s thrusts quickened as he heard your pretty sounds, the way your walls sucked him in making his thighs tremble slightly as he felt his release drawing near. “Such a good girl, so cock-hungry for me.”

“Ah— fuck.” Stars began to form behind your eyelids, your whole body rocking on the desk. If it weren’t for Sylus’s hands gripping your thighs, you would have slid right off and ended up on the floor from his relentless force. The desk shook violently from his pounding, and you were certain the whole house could hear you.

Sylus’s hand reached for your face, his thumb brushing against your lower lip before slipping past it to press down on your tongue, making you clench around his cock instinctively. “That’s it, sweetie,” he breathed, his eyes closing and his head tilting back in pleasure as your cunt hugged him tightly. “Give it to me; I can feel how close you are.”

You were indeed on the brink, your whole body burning and trembling under Sylus’s powerful thrusts. But what sent you over the edge was a sudden knock on the door, followed by Luke’s voice calling out to see if everything was alright.

The moment you realized you had been caught, and Luke could turn the doorknob at any second to find you spread for Sylus, his cock pressing against your cervix, you exploded. Your loud moans were partly muffled by the white-haired man's finger in your mouth. The pressure you applied around his cock as you climaxed made Sylus falter, his own orgasm crashing over him with a force he hadn’t anticipated.

His hot seed coated your walls, filling you to the brim and spilling out of you, trickling down your thighs as he continued to thrust, ensuring every last drop found its way inside. You were a crying, spent mess on his desk, while he tried to catch his breath, slowly lowering your leg back down from his shoulder.

Luke was long gone from outside the door, having heard enough to realize what was happening between you and Sylus.

You could only look up at him with a small shared chuckle before he leaned down to kiss your lips, his newfound gentleness contrasting sharply with the intensity of the moment. “I believe they received a lesson about eavesdropping now,” he murmured, a knowing smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

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matan4il · 5 months ago

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An incomplete "there's a good chance the icon you love and support is a Zionist" list

🌟 Raphael Lemkin, a Jewish Holocaust survivor, whose family was murdered during it. Lemkin is responsible for coining the term "genocide," and for every legal provision that exists today against it. His work against genocide was inspired by his Zionism.

🌟 Martin Luther King, Jr., who did not only support Israel and its right to security, a fellow participant at a dinner with MLK shortly before his assassination quotes him as having stopped a student attacking Zionism, and replied, "When people criticize Zionists, they mean Jews. You’re talking antisemitism." He also encouraged Americans in 1967 to support the Jewish state, as Egypt blockaded the Straits of Tiran, endangering Israeli citizens by cutting the country off from its oil supply.

🌟 Emma Lazarus, a Jewish American poet, whose words ("Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breath free") are engraved on the Statue of Liberty's pedestal, after they helped raise the money needed for its completion. Drawing from the value of Jewish solidarity, she also wrote, "Until we are all free, we are none of us free," adopted as a slogan by intersectionality (while many in the movement exclude Jews from it). She was a great supporter of establishing a state for Jews in the Jewish homeland, having argued for this idea years before the word "Zionist" was even coined.

🌟 The 14th Dalai Lama, the leader of the fight against the occupation of Tibet, who was invited in 1994 to Israel, at a time when China's communist regime did its best to prevent his visits anywhere in the world, and who came to Israel more than once, talking about the 2000 years long Zionism of Jewish culture in exile as an inspiration and role model for Tibetans. "Among Tibetan refugees, we are always saying to ourselves that we must learn the Jewish secret to keep our traditions, in some cases under hostile circumstances."

🌟 Ruth Bader Ginsburg, who spoke more than once about how her pursuit of justice is a continuation of that very same thing in Jewish tradition. She had repeatedly referred to American Zionist Jews as sources of inspiration. For example, in 2018, during her fifth visit to Israel, in a speech she gave when receiving the Genesis Award, she mentioned two such women, Emma Lazarus and Henrietta Szold.

🌟 Nelson Mandela had an ambivalent view of Israel, but repeatedly recognized its right to exist, which makes him a Zionist, he also called upon Arab states to do the same, and was favorable towards the Zionist Jews who supported him during his underground days. Mandela being critical of Israel and still a Zionist is an apt reminder that criticizing the Jewish state and opposing its very existence are NOT the same thing, and only one's antisemitic.

🌟 Felix Salten, the Jewish author of Bambi (the book Disney's movie is based on). The tale was originally a metaphor for Jews suffering antisemitism, something Salten personally had to cope with. He was also an ardent Zionist, feeling the self-liberation at the core of this ideology suited his idea of how to deal with Jew hatred.

🌟 Sun Yat-Sen, who helped end the rule of China's last imperial dynasty, was its first provisional president, and is nowadays honored as an important Chinese leader in both China and Taiwan (sometimes referred to as "Father of the Chinese Nation"). He was an enthusiastic supporter of Zionism. Among other instances of expressing that, he wrote in a 1920 letter to a leader of the Jewish community in Shang Hai about Zionism that it is, "one of the greatest movements of the present time. All lovers of Democracy cannot help but support wholeheartedly and welcome with enthusiasm the movement to restore your wonderful and historic nation, which has contributed so much to the civilization of the world and which rightfully deserves an honorable place in the family of nations."

🌟 Magnus Hirschfeld, a gay Jewish sexologist, nicknamed among other things "The Einstein of Sex" and "The Father of Gay Liberation," because his medical and scientific work on human sexuality, as well as social advocacy for women's, gay and trans rights, was nothing short of pioneering. He was persecuted by the Nazis to the point where he died in exile. They broke into his institute of sexual research, where the world's first clinic performing sex reassignments surgeries was located, and burned down the institute's library. Hirschfeld had attended a Zionist conference following the Balfor Declaration of 1917, and his work on sexual liberation found inspiration in young socialist Jewish Zionist workers he met during a visit to the Land of Israel in 1931-2.

🌟 Marcia Langton, a professor and prominent Aboriginal rights activist from Australia, who has been leading the fight against racism and for her community. She spoke out against the hijacking of native rights movements by terrorist sympathizers and antisemites, and has clearly stood against all loss of life, including that of Israelis.

🌟 Felix Zandman, a Holocaust survivor whose work on resistors is integrated into many smartphones, laptops, cars, satellites, hospital ventilators (saving many Covid patients), airplanes and more. Whenever the anti-Israel crowd is scrolling social media on their phones, they're enjoying the work of a Zionist, who enthusiastically supported the State of Israel, and even introduced an important improvement to the Israeli Merkava tank, which has likely saved many Israeli lives, Jewish and non-Jewish alike, and others like him, since Israel's high tech is considered only second to Silicon Valley (going back to at least the 1990's). If they truly wish to boycott everything that's been "contaminated" by Zionism, they should probably just boycott technology.

🌟 Rosa Parks, an African American leader of the civil rights movement (and someone who personally demonstrated how one can resist without turning violent). She was one of 200 notable black American leaders who publicly organized to express their support and respect of Zionism as the Jewish right to self-determination, and Israel as the manifestation of that right.

-> Like I said, this is VERY incomplete, even just in terms of how the overwhelming majority of Jews are Zionist, and have been since the inception of Judaism, which is itself Zionist. Over the years, this led to many non-Jewish human and native rights champions to be supportive of Zionism, too. Take note of who is being vilified, when the term "Zionist" is ignorantly used as if it means anything other than belief in the equal right of Jews to liberation and self-determination in the Jewish ancestral land. Especially when it is used as being inherently evil.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

#israel #israeli #israel news #israel under attack #israel under fire #israelunderattack #terrorism #anti terrorism #antisemitism #hamas #antisemitic #antisemites #jews #jew #judaism #jumblr #frumblr #jewish #resources

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retiredteabag · 3 months ago

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soft Toji dog-sitting for a generous!reader

pt. 1 - pt. 2 - pt. 3 - next

synopsis: Toji takes up dog-sitting for you and learns to appreciate his new job, in more ways than one.

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

It did not take long for you to go back to work in person, however, it did take a while for Toji to see you again. Despite the oddity that was your first meeting, he couldn't help but wonder what you were doing while he stayed at your house.

In his time there the man had created a routine with your dog.

First thing in the morning, he let the dog into the backyard while he prepared the pampered beast's breakfast, then, he refilled the water bowls with Britta water from the jug in the fridge. After that, the dog comes back in, eats, and after a little digestion, they go for a 10-minute walk.

Toji found that he enjoyed being outside so frequently. He liked being around another life form that appreciated his presence so much.

After three hours he would take the dog on a longer walk, around two miles, come back, play a little, eat dinner, and then Toji would let the dog out in the yard again before giving the dog a treat on his way out.

The routine they had developed was so consistent that when it inevitably went amiss, Toji was unsure what to do.

It all went down on a Tuesday.

It had been about three months since Toji had started watching the dog, the house seemed to have a new light now that he knew who the owner was. He found himself meticulously cleaning the dishes he used, ensuring that he never left any garbage out, and washing the towels that he occasionally used.

He was only making sure he didn't leave the place a mess, he was happy to have so much money was all.

On this particular Tuesday, the sun seemed determined to hide behind a sheet of clouds. It was dark when Toji let the dog out while he prepared breakfast. He had just finished refilling the Britta, his hand on the fridge door when he heard an unfamiliar snarling noise.

Looking around the backyard, he called the dog back in, but for once, the dog did not come. The growls persisted, sounding unlike the dog he had come to know, and eventually, Toji stepped out and firmly called the dog's name. Returning, the dog circled Toji and seemed uninterested in his food.

By noon his breakfast was gone however, and Toji had the beast leashed up for their walk. Everything had been so normal. After about a mile in the humid air, they began their trek home. Looking back, he and the dog must be more similar than Toji thought. The pooch's senses must be on par with his own because the moment Toji halted at the feeling of another, the dog did as well, his ears perked quickly and twitched in different directions, a low growl in his throat.

Later, Toji would wonder where the beast emerged from, how long it had been following them, and who it belonged to but in the moment Toji had little time to think as he whipped around just as a Tosa lunged for them both.

Toji had seen this type of dog before. Commonly bread with aggressive temperaments, Tosa Inu's were common in the underground dog fight scene. And they could be deadly. Toji made quick to stomp the thing right in the face as it bounded toward his dog. Now that he has the chance to look back at the situation, he hopes your pet will forgive him for how aggressively he had yanked the collar behind him.

"BACK! GET BACK!" Toji's voice broke through the dark and cloudy air, the aggressor began to circle himself and the dog, in an effort to contain the Tosa, Toji released his grasp on the leash, fully expecting his pampered boy to run in fear, what he didn't see coming was the dog to leap from his grasp and make to attack the Tosa.

Then there was the blood.

Toji had to claw the beast from the dog he had let go of just a moment before. He can't even remember when the pain in his hands surfaced. Adrenaline was pumping, he should've had his gun. The pain took a backseat to his focus on lifting the (easily 100 lb) dog into his grasp.

He can't remember how he let the Tosa get away, one moment he was tightly grasping its head between his fingernails and then he heard the whimper at his chest and the mastiff mix pulled to scamper away.

Toji zeroed in on what was important, he carried the dog the mile home. Eventually, he couldn't tell who's blood was who's. There was a muted drip, drip, drip, as he jogged. Eventually, they made it into his beat-up car and he watched painfully as the dog bled into his passenger seat, huffing in pain.

Toji knew the vet and animal hospital you used, months back, you had made a very detailed list of information when Toji visited the first time.

The mans heart pumped as he sped past cars and traffic signs.

"Damn it" Toji stoked the dog's face at the red light. "Don't look so pitiful" he tried for a smile, "You fought well... guess you're tougher than you seem." Toji tried to be stoic but in all honesty, he had to keep from shouting at the cars in front of him when the light turned green. He sped all the way to the hospital, flinching when he lifted the dog in his arms.

As it turns out, you need the owner's consent before operating on a dog. That was when Toji made the move to call you. His hands bled across the screen of his phone. The first time it didn't go through, sent to voicemail, he hung up and tried again. He tapped his foot in frustration.

"Mr. Fushiguro-" He immediately cut you off.

"He got bit. We're at the animal hospital. They need to speak to you." Your frantic "What?" fills his ears and he has to squeeze his eyes shut at the anger he feels that this occurred in his care. Your voice was still gentle when you gave your consent for the dog's surgery. You arrived at the hospital in record time and it was here in this moment that Toji believes he's ever really "seen" you.

You stood before the vet tech in your suit pants and tight sleeveless top, your blazer was tossed over your arm as you discussed options with the man at the desk. Toji's head was in his bloody hands when he heard you raise your voice for the first time.

"No. You listen to me. You will do whatever it takes. I. Don't. Care. If the surgery is ten grand, look at me!" Toji lifted his head, the young man at the counter has turned to speak with an assistant, "Ma'am, we understand, he is undergoing care as we speak, we just wanted to ensure this was a financially plausible option before we carry through with the-"

"Stop wasting my time! I'll pay whatever the cost! Do you hear me? I' 'll pay it!" Your hands smacked the counter, "Do you need the money now? What are we doing just standing around?"

"N-no ma'am, no, it will be billed to your resid-" Toji watches as you scoff and turn away from the pair of technicians.

"Oh good. Then send the bill now and help him!" You were making your way to Toji, his eyes widened as you collapsed into the chair beside him. Your breathing was erratic, and you were making these uneven whimpers.

"Is it... gonna be alright?" Toji questioned in a dull tone.

"Yes." Your answer was immediate. "Yes. Yes, they're sewing him up now. He's-he's gonna be alright." You were shaking and sucking in air in quick huffs.

"I'm sorry. That I let this happen." Toji was looking only at you before your head shot to meet his.

"What? No. Don't be. This wasn't- it's not your fault- thank you, really, I don't think- I would've- I could... get him here the way you did." You held his gaze before his discomfit forced him to pull back.

He just shook his head and you both sat there in silence.

"I'm sorry... about all that. I wish you hadn't seen me behave in that way."

It took Toji a moment to realize you meant about the yelling. He scoffed and shook his head again, he wasn't sure how to confess that he had found it impressive on your part. And oddly...charming.

Eventually, a vet came out in scubs and kneeled to tell you that the dog was stable and sedated but would need to spend the night at the hospital. You made no complaints, saying you did not mind staying the night.

Of course, despite your determination to sleep in the waiting room, you were sent home.

You both hadn't made it out the doors before you spotted Toji swiping his hands along his bloody pants and only then did you notice just how hurt he really was.

"Mr. Fushiguro!" You call for him as he makes his way across the parking lot to his vehicle. "Oh my gosh, your hands! Why-why didn't you say?! Oh my, please come here!"

"It's nothing" His voice sounded odd in his ears as he called to you from a distance in the 8 PM animal hospital parking lot. "It looks worse than it is." He finishes when you don't respond.

You were silent in your insistance on driving him back to your house. You looked so determined when you told him to leave his car and allow you to bandage him up. He was so uncomfortable in your lovely BMW convertible's heated leather seats.

You made no move to speak as you sat him down on the edge of your bathtub. Avoiding his presence, you scampered to find antiseptic and a first aid kit.

Internally you had refused to look the man the eyes when you arrived with what you needed. Not meeting his stare until you warned him before pouring the alcohol over his palms, he hissed in annoyance but regretted it the second your eyes wilted,

"I'm sorry, I know, it's awful." You stroked at his hand with your little fingers, dabbing a cold washcloth over the deep animal bites. He felt the sudden need to pull his hand back at the intimacy of the moment but in your naivete of the situation you made a apologetic noise,

"I'm sorry, was it too much?"

"Yeah." He breathes in. Breaths out.

Toji was mesmerized by how gentle your touch was, how soft you felt. When he touched people in the past, it had always been hard and firm, fast and aggressive. Now he wasn't sure what to do with your display of physical kindness.

You held his hands, wrapped in a thick, cool towel, "Mr. Fushiguro, I cannot thank you enough, and I'm so sorry this happened, I fully understand if you are uninterested in watching the dog in the future, I wish I could have prevented all of this from-"

"Woah." He pulled back, "I don't want to quit. It's not so bad."

He didn't expect your response, you eyes on his hands as you murmured, "Please let me buy you lunch. Of course, I'll pay you double for tonight, this is the absolute least I can do."

Toji's brows raise. Ah. So this was it. For some reason, on your bathtub and in your gentle grasp, he can't seem to mind so much.

Toji's eyes become intentionally lidded as he leans down to your level. He pulls a hand from the towel that you had meticulously wrapped and he reaches for you. Stroking at the back of your hand.

"You ain't gotta do all that. You've got me here now." His lips curve and he leans in just a bit more before your head turns to the wall. Your brows furrow when you see the clock.

"But... it's 10 pm... of course, can eat anything here now if you like. I'm not sure what I have. But please, I insist, let me send you a gift card. I owe you so much!"

Toji swears he feels his eye twitch as you pull away from his grasp and rewrap his hand in the towel, tighter this time.

He's so dazed that he says nothing as you ask if he's in pain. With furrowed brows, he simply shakes his head. You gave him some medicine anyway and ordered him an Uber. He can't focus after your reaction, your rejection, he hardly recognizes his own disappointment at the wholly pure intentions you have this evening. At the lack of invite to stay over. He had been so sure how this night would have ended when you decided to bring him home.

He can't recollect a time he hasn't been pestered to stay the night and now he's being sent away in a prepaid taxi, with a cool washcloth in his hands and a nauseating feeling in his stomach.

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

pt. 4

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leviismybby · 1 year ago

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If only I knew

Levi Ackerman x fem!reader, angsty angst, slight fluff but not too much

With the titans being gone and the world healing, people move on Levi Ackerman is no exception, he sits outside on the balcony, his eyes looking at people who pass down below. Every single one of them has their own story, their own struggles and challenges. He wondered sometimes what the story was of that old baker down the street that sells those sweet pastries he brings to the kids he is helping sometimes or that woman who always went on evening walks. He sees families, couples, mothers with their children, all of them with a different life than his own.

Levi wasn't going to complain, this was the peace he fought for, he wishes sometimes that the people he cared about were still here but he learned to accept his freedom and stop feeling guilty about it, this is what they would want for him. As he looks at a young couple pass by, his thoughts wander back to you. How were you? Have you been doing good? Have you moved on from him? He thinks about you way too much and wonders if you think about him too. What if it was different? What if you were here with him? Enjoying the morning air just like he is....

He shakes his head and takes the now cooled-down cup of tea on the table next to him, he catches himself doing what he told himself not to do, going through all of those what-ifs that do nothing but put him in a spiral of thought. It's a habit he is working on getting rid of, there is nothing he has if he keeps living in the past. Levi has no regrets, that what he tells himself but, you were his regret, he regretted not going back to you and if he could go back in time for only one minute, he would go back to you.

His memories of you are still crystal clear, he hasn't forgotten what you looked like, how could he? You were his first and only love.

The underground wasn't a pleasant place to live, Levi scoffs as he cleans the floor, he tries to be quiet not to wake you up as you're still sleeping. His eyes look at the clock from time to time, he wonders if Furlan and Isabele have managed to get themselves a decent breakfast, he left them a note where hid some of the food supplies. He spent the night at your place, recently finding it a guilty pleasure of his. Does he feel bad for lying to his friends about where he is? Yes, he does. Does he feel like it's a need to keep you safe? Yes, he does. Both of them know about you and that you're Levi's girlfriend but Levi likes to keep your relationship a secret as much as he can.

As he continues to clean the floor, he eventually hears footsteps coming his way and looks up to see you leaning against the doorframe watching him clean. Your place wasn't big, you had two rooms, one was used as your bedroom and the other as your kitchen. "Well good morning, handsome." You smile as you speak and Levi rolls his eyes as he stands up. "Didn't I tell you to stop with the nicknames?" The smile doesn't leave your face, you can't help but tease him, it's your favorite thing to do. "No, you're handsome."

He approaches you and gives you a quick kiss on the lips. "Since you're already trying to suck up from the early fucking morning. Have about you make the bed while I make breakfast?" You groan. "Fine, we did leave it a mess." Levi can't help but let the side of his lip quirked up slightly, you two were rather intense any time you made love, he enjoyed it thoroughly. "Of course we did, you're a wild one in the sheets."

That morning when you two were eating breakfast, he noticed a discomfort on your face. "Name, what's the matter?" You rub your neck, feeling nausea again, the fourth morning in a row. "I am...fine just.." You stop for a second taking a deep breath. "I feel like I have to throw up." Quickly you stand up from the table and bend over the skin to throw up, Levi follows swiftly behind you, holding your hair and rubbing your back gently. After you're done, he reaches for the napkin and wipes your mouth before cleaning the sink as you sit down. "It's most likely a flu, Furlan had it last week." Levi says as he kneels before you and puts his hand over your lap. "Rest, I'll take care of everything."

Levi's memory trip is interrupted by his doorbell ringing, he stands up and takes his cane and makes his way to the door, cursing his leg. Opening the door, his eyes go slightly wide as he sees Jean and Connie, now both even more mature than the last time he saw them. They were in their early twenties now, both mature men, well as mature as Jean and Connie can get anyway. "You two...this is a surprise." Levi says and steps aside to let them in, usually when any of them visit they sent a letter prior so something must've happened for them to come all the way here.

"How's your leg, ca- Levi?" Jean almost face palms at Connie's slip-up, he didn't blame him however, it was a force of habit and long years of Levi being the Survey Corps captain. "It has its days. I don't need the shitty wheelchair today, at least not yet." He says as he leads them into the living room to sit down, they sit down on the sofa opposite Levi who sits down on a chair. "Do you two want something to drink?" Levi asks despite the fact that he can see that the two were in a hurry to tell him something. "No thank you. We won't be long." Jean says and takes his hat off. "We uh, the reason for our visit is tho." He pulls out a photo from his coat pocket and puts it on the table in front of Levi.

Levi arches an eyebrow for a second before taking a look at the photograph. There's silence for a few moments, this time it's Connie that speaks again. "We got it from Historia, she got the file for the newest recruits who just signed up for the military and when she came across the photo, she immediately called us." Of course, the new rule on Paradis is that you have to be 16 years of age to sign up to train for the military, Historia can't do much about the tight grip that the new regiment has on people but she made sure that kids no longer have to train at early age.

Silence falls over the room again as Levi observed the person in the photo. “This boy…..he looks familiar…” Levi takes a look at the photo better, thousands of questions going on through his mind. Jean and Connie look at each other, not knowing how to approach the situation, Jean clears his throat before speaking. “That's why we brought you that picture, we thought you might be able to tell us who it is.”

Levi keeps looking at the photograph. “And how old is he? Do you know?” He looks up, his face showing curiosity. “He is 16.” Connie’s words seem to leave Levi thinking even more. 16 years old…he saw you last 16 years ago. “16….” Levi sighs and looks at the photo again, his eyes pay close attention to the boy’s hair, jaw and eyes. His eyes darted over the mirror in the hallway then back at the image in his hand.

Dammit name. Levi says in his head, this boy had his features, his gray eyes, his sharp jaw, the dark hair, those nose all of it, his. He looks at Jean and Connie who are both waiting for an explanation, an explanation that Levi does not have, he does not doubt that this is his kid but he cannot tell them something he didn't even know about. Now he starts to feel stupid, no wonder you were having all of those sick mornings and suddenly started to crave food that you usually had a dislike for, you were pregnant, pregnant with his baby. Another money creeps into his mind...

"Be careful." You say as you watch Levi put the gear on. "Why are these people after you anyway?" He doesn't answer you as he focuses on strapping his gear on the right. "I don't know. All I know is that I have to go above ground to kill that blondie." Blondie? He must be referring to that tall blonde guy, the one you saw last week wearing a dark green cloak with wings of freedom on it. "I am doing this for us. If I get my hands on those papers we can finally go live above ground." He approaches you and wraps his hands around your waist, his eyes locked with yours. "I'll be back." Levi says, taking your face in his hands when he notices your eyes get watery. "When?" Your voice is shaky. "I'll be back." He repeats his words before kissing you passionately.

"We just, never saw you with anyone that way so it was a surprise to see the photo." Jean's voice interrupts Levi's train of thought, he sighs putting the photo on the desk. "There was someone before I joined the Survey Corps....Name." The way your name rolled off his lips after so many years makes it almost painful for Levi, as much as it's hard for him to speak, he continues. "She was someone I met when I was young in the underground, we were together for a long time before I went above ground with Erwin and Miche."

Connie knows that he should let Levi speak but his curiosity gets the best of him. "What happened? Did you not go back for her?" That question hurts Levi, not because he didn't try to go back to you but because he did and when he went back, you weren't there. "I did, so many times. I let myself be stopped by the suffering of my comrades too many times but I did. About two years after writing letters to her and her never responding, I went back and she...was gone. Her stuff was still there, most of it scarred across the floor like someone had broken in. I went back above ground and accepted two options, one that she was either dead, killed by the criminals in the underground or that she parished into the dirty streets and died of illness.....she was feeling ill before I left and of course, it never clicked in my mind that she was pregnant with my child."

Jean and Connie listen as Levi talks, even they can feel the dread and longing from his voice. "So I left it. Buried it deep in me with only memories of her to hold. But this.." He takes a photo of his son in his hand again, he closes his eyes for a moment trying not to let his emotions get the better of him. "Changes everything. Do you know more about him? His name?" They shake their heads, maybe Historia did tell them a name but they were too in shock from seeing the photo to react. "I think Queen Historia would be welcome to speak with you over the telephone, the problem is it's hard to reach her."

"No." Levi says. "I will speak to her personally, I need to know more." It was a sentence Levi didn't think he would ever say, going back to a place that considers him a traitor. His son may be one of those people for all he knows, he did grow up on Paradis but he has faith in you, that you told him about his father. He would understand if you didn't too, you had every right to after how he left. "Are you sure that's smart? People on Paradis are rather hostile with former members of the survey corps." They were telling Levi what he already knew, he reads the newspapers and listens to the radio, he knows better than anyone the injustice the new regiment does to him and his fallen friends and comrades however, it's his son, his flesh and blood. As much he wishes that he was strong enough to let it go, he can't, even if you remarried, even if you forgot him, he had to see you again, to meet his he didn't know even existed until about thirty minutes ago.

"I know and it probably isn't smart. That won't stop me, now that I know about him...I can't let it go."

---------------------------------------------------

Levi can't move, it's like he is stuck in one place. He holds onto his cane as he watches from afar, his breath hitches in his throat. His son is just a few steps away but it's like something is holding Levi back as just stands there, looking at him. Regret starts to creep in again, he was 16, and Levi has missed so much of his life, he missed his first steps, his first words, his first day of school. Leo, that was his name, Armin told him when he came to Paradis.

It has changed a lot, there are a lot of familiar places but yet they seem so foreign, he can see his comrades in every corner, hear their laughter. He can see himself in Leo as he trains, very clearly skilled and fast. Levi wanted nothing more than to talk to him, what would he say if he does? He was 41 years old now, will his son hear him out? Does he ever know about him?

There's a loud whistle suggesting that the training is over, Levi's eyes follow Leo as he walks over to the bench and drinks some water. It's like looking in a mirror a few years back, they looked so much alike, it wouldn't take anyone who knew Levi personally to figure out who Leo was. Levi looks away for a moment thinking to himself. If he goes over there and talks to him, he will figure out everything. What happened to you, he would hear his son talk, get to know him if he lets him to.

Instead, Levi turns around, he gulps, trying to surpass the tears in his eyes. Or maybe it's better that his son doesn't get to know him, that you don't see him again. Maybe Levi isn't as strong as he thought he was, he looks back and sees that Leo is talking to his peers, clearly enjoying the company of his friends. That makes Levi smile slightly, he seems like a good guy, he didn't expect otherwise, you raised him. Levi was about to call out but then he sees someone approach Leo again, this time he knows who it is, it was you.

Levi's eyes go wide and he moves a little closer, not enough for you two to see him but enough for him to hear your conversation. "Hey ma." Leo smiles at you as you sit next to him. "Here you go, now remember to return the basket after you're done." Levi watches as Leo takes a look at the basket, his hands going through it. "Ma, I told you not to bake. I can't have too much sweets in my diet." Despite his words, he takes a bite out of a cookie, Levi knows himself how good of a cook you are, he can almost taste the flavor in his mouth.

You were stunning, you matured and Levi couldn't find you more beautiful. He is happy for you, happy that his son has so much respect and love for you. Leo finishes the cookie and then takes the basket from you, his mouth full of food. "Leo, slow down." You scold, putting your hands on your hips. "Sorry ma, missed your cooking." There's something that you feel on your back, like someone is looking at you from afar and what's worse is that it feels like deja vu, like you have felt that type of stare before.

You turn around and Levi is quick to hide behind a wall, he sees that you keep looking for a couple of minutes. "Ma? Is everything okay?" Leo asks his mother, trying to see what she is looking at. "Yes, it's all fine...I just felt someone looking at me is all." You turn back to face your son and Levi finally sums up the courage, he comes around the corner slightly and starts walking towards you until....

"So ma, how is dad doing?" That stops Levi in his tracks, dad? But he...he was- "He is doing good and remember that next time he will be the one visiting so try to act more.... Like a soldier." Leo rolls his eyes at that. "Like hell I will, I am the most skilled one here, it's not like I can't act human just because I have duties to attend." Levi hears the words, unlike him, Leo is putting the people dear to him over duty. You laugh a little and then pinch Leo on the cheek. "Alright now, don't be rude to dad he cares for you."

It was like a dagger to Levi, you did move on, and you did forget him. He turns around not wanting to listen to that conversation anymore, it was killing him inside. His son...doesn't even know about him. If only he knew, if he visited you earlier all those years ago. If only he stayed...while you would've been in the underground, you would've been together and he would have a son that knew him.

-------------------------------------------------- Taglist: @youre-ackermine @the-milk-anon @humanitys-strongest-bamf @romantichomicide95 @mrsackermannx @sixpennydame @svftackerman @hhighkey @cometlevi @notgoodforlife @levisbrat25 @randomlevithoughts @ackermendick @saenora @loveackermannn @levismylover @laurenzitaa @missyasma @sad-darksoul @thebobaprincess @la-undercover-latina @levilxvr @bpdtistic

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eggsaladstain · 2 years ago

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the darkling said i have loved and lost and i can bear it no longer, i will close my heart to anyone who is not like me, love is weakness, love is heartache, the joy of loving them is not worth the pain of losing them and i would spare her from this pain even if she hates me for it

and alina said i have loved him and i will lose him but not today, i have sacrificed everything but i will not sacrifice him, not again, i will bring him back to me no matter the cost, even if i have to let him go in the end

and mal said i have loved her my whole life but i don’t know who i am without her, i want a life of my own even if it means i have to leave her, but i will go trusting that i will be able to find my way back to her as i always have

and genya said i have loved him and i do not regret saving him but it came at a terrible cost, i have wandered underground in the dark with only the sound of his heartbeat guiding the way, i have survived unimaginable horrors and i am strong enough to survive losing him too

and david said i have loved her without knowing how to show it but i would like to try, i know metal and she is stronger than steel and more beautiful than rubies or emeralds, i have never known anyone braver and i regret leaving her side before, but i will do it just once more if it means i can save her

and wylan said i have loved him even knowing it might never be anything more, i left him the first time but i’m not leaving now, i want to hear about his day and i want to tell him about mine

and jesper said i have loved him all while hiding a part of myself but i will hide no longer, i do not know where this journey will lead us but i would like to find out, i have spent my life gambling and i will take a gamble on this

and nina said i have loved him even as he hates me, i have condemned him to save him and i will not rest until i am able to free him

and matthias said i have loved her despite a lifetime at war against her people, i should have known better than to trust her but i let myself anyway, she betrayed me and i should hate her but it’s not just hatred that i feel when i dream of her in the night

and inej said i have loved him as his shadow, close enough to be near but never touching, i want more for us and i will not settle for less, i will have him completely or not at all and i will not wait, i will live my own life with the freedom he gave me and we will meet again one day when i choose to return

and kaz said i have loved her when i could not love myself, i do not believe in saints but i believe in her, i have lost my brother and i would do anything to make sure she doesn’t have to suffer the same, i have given everything so she could have her freedom and i would rather watch her walk away than ever hold her back, i will wait for her and i will miss her every moment she’s not beside me, but i will try to make myself a better man by the time she returns

and sankta neyar said i have loved and lost and i will gladly do it again, i once closed my heart but no longer, i will endure the pain of losing my husband by cherishing the memories of the life we shared, may you all find a love that brings you joy that will outlive the pain, my love is my strength and my universe, i have lived for hundreds of years and what i have learned is this: there is only love, it is the only thing that matters and it is enough

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bobluvbot · 7 months ago

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late night cravings

pairing: sirius black x afab!reader summary: you sneak off the night for a cheeky midnight snack, hoping sirius won’t notice (spoiler alert: he does, and he’s sulky about it) wc: 4k cw: pregnancy & baby talk, descriptions of food and eating, brief allusions to sex (not directly stated), no physical traits of reader specified but sirius can hold things out of reader’s reach a/n: so i had a lengthy angst fic for sirius’s debut on my blog and im halfway done on it but i cant seem to finish it bc it sends me to a depressing spiral each time <33333 so pls enjoy a very self-indulgent domestic excessively fluffy blurb with my beloved <33333 p.s this is not proofread so plz ignore mistakes ty <3

opening the tomato salsa jar turned out to be the hardest part.

back in bed, you thought the trickiest part of your late night escapade from sirius black was his long limbs wound up tight with yours, even in low light of the small nightlight in the corner, you could still make out the intricate script and designs following the curves and dips of his strong arms, holding you close to his chest.

you had it committed to memory by now, having explored sirius’s body well enough to memorize the way his skin feels against yours, with heartbeats and breaths falling in sync without much effort.

judging by the way his breathing gets heavy after every exhale and the little snores that escape in between, you knew he was beyond knackered. it was day five of sirius’s new job as an deputy director at the auror office. the day he learned about the promotion was pure unadulterated happiness. after letting you know through an express owl, you mustered up enough vigor available to your seven months pregnant self to get out of the house and go to the local shops to get party supplies and food to celebrate sirius’s achievement.

Coming in third out of the list of things he genuinely loved in this life, after you and his luscious locks of course, was his job as an auror. young sirius had never thought in his wildest dreams that he’d work at the ministry, much less actually enjoy it. can’t really blame sixteen year old sirius, starting an underground rock band with the marauders seemed like the perfect thing to do after gruelling hours of studying at hogwarts.

defense against the dark arts came to him naturally, with some counterspells like second nature to him as being exposed with use of dark magic young gave him no choice but to grow up quickly and defend himself from the excruciating pain or the mind control that was from his own family’s doing. Winning the first wizarding war alongside his friends and found family has solidified sirius’s calling in eradicating the use of dark magic and making sure the next generation can have a safe and normal life without the looming threat of a megalomaniac sorting people with their blood status and taking over the wizarding world.

that night, sirius walked into a dark and eerily quiet home that had his senses on overdrive. but when the lights turned on and he saw familiar faces of his loved ones all beaming with pride, and there you were in the center, looking ethereal and round and all his, with his favorite red velvet cake on hand and a ridiculously big balloon that says “congratulations” tied to the candle, he could have melted in a syrupy mess of gooey happiness right then and there if he hadn’t caught himself together last minute.

Sirius had thought– that after you agreeing to go on one date with him to hogsmeade, winning the quidditch cup and seeing the proud look on minerva’s face, going home for christmas break and euphemia welcoming him with a kiss on the cheek and a warm hug, remus teaching at the very same classroom you all were in years back, james and lily’s first kiss at the altar, holding little baby harry in his arms, you walking down the aisle with a bouquet of peonies in the most beautiful dress, and when you held his hand that one night and told him that you were expecting—- that he knew of love. but you do something extraordinary that has him scrambling to add to the endless list of why you’re the love of his life. he was so focused on you that he wasn’t prepared to catch pure muscle of james’s body as he flung himself to tackle his best friend in a hug. luckily, remus with a party hat was aptly standing between a toppling sirius and the living room wall, and he singlehandedly saved the two from creating a huge hole in the drywall.

this was the life, sirius had thought after many hours of partying celebrating and eating, when he laid beside you in bed, limbs tangled, sated and dizzy and warm as you both came down from your highs. and he gets to spend it with you.

but as fun and exciting sirius’s new job is, it entailed an increased amount of responsibility as he was assisting the head auror. his least favorite part of the job was the boatloads of paperwork he has to deal with. An express owl almost dropped a howler letter into the soup you were making for dinner earlier that day and you opened it up panicking thinking it was an emergency. But no, it was just sirius whining that his hand hurt and is about to fall off and that he needs you to kiss it better.

You did eventually, and one thing led to another and here you were, tucked in your husband’s warm embrace. you could stay here forever, only separating to drink water and bathroom trips, but the gnawing urge to eat something savory, sweet, tangy, and crunchy has possessed your entire being, the only way to quell it was to get up and go to the kitchen. the baby doesn’t seem to have a semblance of time yet, a fact you both envied and despised, because the clock on your nightstand said it was 3:48am in bold red numbers. A few months ago, you’d never be caught dead awake at this time, taking your precious sleep time seriously. The man himself would poke fun at you and say you’d gladly sleep through an earthquake or a housefire just as long as you get your seven to eight hours of sleep per day, and despite of your assumed role of contradicting and arguing with spontaneous and stubborn sirius, you had to agree.

But this was not about you anymore, or at least not quite yet for a good seventeen years, so you untangle yourself from sirius and your perfectly warm and cool side of the bed and waddle down the carpeted stairs, careful not to set foot on the creaky step that might risk waking sirius up. You need your secrets too, and you’re not in the mood to share food.

Grateful for the heavens that you and sirius stocked up on groceries two days ago, you had a wide selection of random items to munch on. A few days ago, you were introduced to the idea of a fluffernutter sandwich while scrolling through the short videos on your feed. Peanut butter and marshmallow fluff as spreads on their own was something you didn’t mind eating, but both together in a sandwich? You were enthralled, and the only way to quell the curiosity was to make it. So you did.

You shovel and slather more than enough spread on each slice of bread, though you might have used the same spoon on both jars.. but who’s to tell you off otherwise, your snoozing husband upstairs? pfft.

Smiling happily as if committing a particularly naughty crime, you place the spoon in your mouth, licking off the gooey mixture as you place the sandwich on a piece of paper towel (yes, you take the no dishwashing tonight seriously) on the table. humming, you mull over what to prepare next.

The baby needs something savory and tangy, but you’re not particularly keen on going through all the effort of heating up the soup from dinner, not to mention the amount of cutlery and dishes you’ll use for that, so you zero in on the tostada shells you chose rather than tortilla chips because its much more crispier.

Opening the fridge, you see the laughing cow on a round packaging and decide its the one, so you grab two cheese wedges from it.

Sirius had argued that the next aisle had actual, real blocks of cheese with a variety on display and that there was no point in getting artificially flavored ones. But you’ve gotten really good at giving him the stank face, which inadvertently ends 75 percent of nonsense bickering before it even starts; and since you’ve started showing more and more, sirius has admittedly gone softer on you, not that he was ever more but a pushover your entire relationship. Merely widening of eyes and a jut of your lower lip, even adding a slight tremble or two during times where you did actually fuck up, sirius can’t hold his stance longer than a minute before sighing and taking you in his arms. he might call you out for being a brat at times, but there’s no denying he loves it. And so the artificial wheel of cheese wedges got purchased and bagged home, and you’re meticulously spreading it over the golden shells, leaving little to no gaps of it bare.

Laying it on another paper towel, your heart gets giddy on your chest knowing you’re in for a treat tonight. But not quite time to start munching, the baby reminds you that you still need something tangy to complete the meal. So comes your big predicament, should you get dill pickles or tomato salsa?

It took you ten seconds too long of weighing down the pros-and-cons of choosing one and feeling like you made the wrong choice if you end up not liking it. It doesn’t help that the pregnancy hormones make you more anxious and tend to put you always on the verge of tears. So when the not-so-groundbreaking idea of just eating them both hits you, you feel the weight slide off your shoulders as you sigh. Because again, who’s gonna tell you that eating pickles this late at night can give you bad acid reflux, your snoozing husband? Pfft.

Snacking on some, you do manage to pick out the juiciest looking pickle chips and lay them atop of your tostadas. You and the little one are beyond excited to dive in. It’s looking like a mini upside-down pizza with the cheese spread first then the pickle as toppings. Only thing left now was the the tomato salsa slathered on top to seal the deal.

Opening tight lids wasn’t an issue for you before, in fact, you took pride when friends hand you a jar or bottle to open because you could do it in a breeze. Chances were, the lid wasn’t even screwed on that tight, you were just built different, you’d say with a shrug once you give the items back. So when the tomato jar doesn’t budge after two attempts, you get puzzled.

Maybe your hands were slippery? You wipe them down with a tea towel and try again. No.

You weren’t holding it tight enough? Fingers held taut against the lid, you try three times. Still no.

Determined, you try different positions before letting the jar go, shooting it glares as if it’d get intimidated and just open up for you. You were also getting lightheaded, and passing out on the kitchen floor due to excessive stimulation of your vagal reflex because you were too stubborn to use magic or wake your husband up to open it for you doesn’t seem like the best way to spend the early Tuesday morning hours.

Magic was even out of the option (well, in your brain it was), because your wand’s tucked beside sirius’s on your nightstand, and frankly, you don’t have the patience to drag yourself upstairs just to flick a utility spell to open the wretched thing. So you do the next best option: lose hope.

The disappointment was mutual between you and your baby. And the acid reflux did start to kick in, making your stomach grumble in both hunger and pain. This was all going so well until it isn’t, tears began to make its way up to your eyes.

“See, this is what you get for being greedy and eating all snacks by yourself,” sirius huffs behind you, deep voice still raspy with sleep. You didn’t even hear him getting out of bed and coming down the stairs, that’s how preoccupied you were with opening the jar.

He grabs the container away from you to open it, but not without throwing a scowl at your direction, handsome face contorted with furrowed eyebrows and downturned mouth, enough to express that he felt betrayed by this whole ordeal. If you were in a better mood, you’d poke his sides and tackle him playfully, teasing him for being sulky. But for now, you need the jar opened so you could eat in peace. You’ll deal with the sharing food issue later.

“t wasn’t supposed to take long,” you mumble, caught off guard and refusing to make eye contact, pretending the fridge magnets beside sirius’s head is ten times more interesting than his face. You don’t miss his raised eyebrow and snort at your response.

The second attempt comes and he opens it with a satisfying pop. your mouth falls agape, eyeing the *now accessible* tomato salsa dip in disbelief. What the hell?

And you couldn’t even take the smug grin spreading across sirius’s face by the millisecond. Refuse to. You try to snatch the open container away from him but he holds it higher and out of reach, making a show of puffing his chest, flexing his biceps, even giving it a kiss. This is all James’s doing, you need to have a talk with Lily soon about keeping these two separated.

“Sirius!” you try to plead your way out. the trademark innocent, pouty expression settles on your face like a second mask, hoping he’d go down this easy.

It doesn’t work. He just chuckles, mocking your pleas and face while his free hand sneaks up and pinches your unsuspecting cheek to tease you further.

You yelp in mock outrage and swat his hand away, trying your best to keep your displeasure firm on your face, but you feel the giggles coming up. “This is why I sneak out alone to eat, you’re such a bully,” you huff, but take a seat in front of your makeshift spread.

Sirius places the jar near you, but not without poking your exposed sides, armed with the knowledge that the easiest way to get you laughing (and eventually conceding in an argument) is knowing where your tickle zones are. “Oh yeah,” he drawls, plopping himself beside you. “That’s also why you’re the only one waking up with an upset stomach, stinking up our bathroom so early in the morning.”

Now this one got you appalled, embarrassed, disturbed, basically hit with all the feelings. You’ve been living together long before you got married, and he never brought up this issue until today. “That’s it. I’m leaving.” He makes a move to snatch the sandwich away but the embarrassment on your cheeks made you more agile, swatting his hand away and shielding the sandwich with your hands. “After I finish my meal,” you continue, shooting him a glare.

But see, one of the things that drove you nuts even way back at Hogwarts, was how Sirius Black mostly managed to outsmart you or be one step ahead of you in everything. After you turned him down without much thought whatsoever despite his grand declaration of interest, Sirius took it upon himself to show you (1) that you made a mistake for rejecting him, (2) that his ego won’t let you embarrass him like that again, (3) and that you won’t get rid of him that easily. Once he set his eyes on you, you were face to face with him in everything: grades, OWLs/NEWTs scores, Quidditch plays and bets, wins at the duelling club, even with the fucking gobstones tournament. He never let you catch a break.

Things were surely different now, since you vowed to be with him in sickness and health and untill death parts you both– hell, you’re carrying his child. So you figured maybe, maybe, he’ll let you catch a break this time. Let you eat in peace as you mull over his bathroom comment and how you’re going to get him back.

But again, no. Unlike you, Sirius remembered to grab his wand from the nightstand. Not even batting an eye, he says nonchalantly, “Accio sandwich.” And the fluffernutter you protected with all your physical might managed to escape your watch, and land gracefully on his waiting palm.

What irritated you more from this whole ordeal? The prodigal auror that climbed his way up the ranks and became the youngest deputy director, fully capable of complex spells and wielding different kinds of magic, felt the need to do a verbal Accio spell just to make a point to you.

Out of words, you just stare at him blankly. Too stunned to even cry in frustration because you knew you made a conscious, willing choice to be with this man.

Maybe your best guilt-tripping expression comes best when you’re not trying. Color drains from his face when you remained silent and he scrambles to take a bite off the sandwich before handing it back to you, or rather placing it on your limp hand as you refuse to acknowledge it, still too hurt to budge. “‘m sorry, baby. Just wanted to eat with you since we didn’t get to earlier.”

He did arrive later than usual, deciding to finish the stack of case files and paperwork so he won’t have to sift through them again the next day. There were plans to wait for him before eating, but when the jitteriness and slightly nausea started to kick in, you had no choice in the matter. Sirius had been sulky and clingy the moment he got home, and as compromise, you stayed to watch him eat; listening and reacting animatedly as he ranted about his stressful day.

So you cut him off some slack, also exhausted from all the emotional stimulation sirius brought since he woke up. As a silent peace offering (also because you’re not ready to say sorry to his face), you slide the tostadas within his reach and finally take your bite of the goddamn sandwich. It was good, tasted as expected, sweet peanut butter. You’d probably have it again as a drunk at 3am meal.

Sirius also went and got snacks of his own: microwaved popcorn, pickles, toasted bread slathered with butter, and grapes. Together, you munched on the little spread of random food you could find in your kitchen at 4am in comfortable silence, which is surprising after the earlier bickering. No matter how cheesy it sounded in your head, sirius was the only person that can drive you to the brink of insanity and right back. You were in for a hell of a ride for the foreseeable future; and while there’s a lot of uncertainty right now and changes to be made when the little one gets here, you’re beyond happy that you get to do all this with him.

Sleep was beginning to creep up on you. Of course he notices this right when you do, so a warm arm wrapped across your back urges you to settle on his lap, bodies melding into the familiar crevices like puzzle pieces, though you both had to adjust certain angles to accommodate your growing belly. You sit like this for a while; your head tucked securely in the crook of his neck, steady breaths lulling you to sleep, while sirius’s hands instinctively finds its way under your sleep shirt and on the natural curve of your belly, lithe fingers stroking and drawing soothing circles anywhere he could reach.

you wish you could stay like this forever– cozy and soft and safe– but alas, you were carrying sirius black’s offspring. the baby decides to reward you with a round of kicks, probably giddy after feeling their father’s touch. Sirius chuckles and coos at your bump, while a muffled groan leaves your lips from the sudden onslaught of movement, but still refusing to move from this comfortable position.

Smooth cold lips touch the side of your forehead and you relish in the feeling. “Does it ever hurt, love? All that kicking and wiggling?”

“Not really,” a content sigh leaves your lips. “Feels strange at times, seeing your belly move on its own.”

To prove your point, two tiny bulges make a split second appearance just above where Sirius’s hand lay. His thumb soothes the area lovingly.

“Definitely getting stronger though; Lily told me during the later months, harry for some reason loved to kick downwards, making bathroom trips more frequent than it already is. Not excited for that.”

He presses kisses on your forehead, temple, hairline, anywhere he could reach without moving too much. “Things that you do and endure for this ‘lil troublemaker,” sirius murmurs. He doesn’t need to say it out loud, you could feel his body reverberating with awe and fondness. You try to bask in it for as long as you could, but a passing thought makes its presence known to you again.

“Do i really make the bathroom stink?” it comes out whinier than you intended it to be but you just had to know for peace of mind.

Sirius’s whole frame vibrates as he tries to stifle his laughter, taking you with him. He’s laughing at your expense but you feel your own giggles brewing in your belly. You try to hold it in for longer, preserving some self respect. “A little bit,” he says solemnly. You groan, earlier mortified feeling returning in full swing. It triggers another round of chuckles.

“But dove, it’s nothing that my deep love and adoration for my lovely strong hot and sexy wife can’t handle.” He says assuredly, and you curse yourself for being so down bad for this man as blood rushes to your cheeks from his words. Good thing it’s dim and your face is still tucked in the crook of his neck.

You do pinch his arm in response, and both your laughters compliment the comfortable silence.

“Although,” he says after a while. “The betrayal of you eating without me still hurts.”

“Siri.. i’m sorry,” you mumble. “‘y looked so tired, Didn’t wanna wake you up.”

He tuts and doesn’t say much after that. In sirius dictionary, this means he just wants some affection from you— for you to dote on him and coax out his forgiveness, even if you both know he’s not really mad; judging by his arms still wrapped securely around your frame and steady breaths that tickle and fan on your bare skin.

So you mimic his actions from earlier, planting tiny kisses on his neck, collarbones, jawline, anywhere your lips could reach. Kissing his cheek seem to do the trick, his fake scowl quickly coming undone as a bashful smile breaks through the frown, and his tiny dimple you love so much making an appearance. The muggle maternity books did say dimples are genetic, so an image of a little Sirius running around and smiling up at you with those dimpled cheeks is a warming thought.

“I am charming all the lids to be stuck at night as soon as i wake up tomorrow for work.” You poke a sensitive spot on his side, making him jolt, but you couldn’t resist laughter as it bubbles out of the surface. “You’re insufferable, I can’t believe I married a psychopath.”

“And you let him knock you up too. I’d say it takes one to know one, hm?”

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littlerequiem · 25 days ago

Text

we mourned the sea ˚⁎⁺ chapter 2

> Crossposted on AO3

Levi hasn't seen you in a year, and he wonders how you will find him. Changed, perhaps. Lost, definitely. Or: After the war, you and Levi learn to live in this new world.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 - Levi Ackerman / Female Reader (Attack on Titan)

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 - Rated Explicit (18+). Post-Canon, Post-War, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Domestic, Fluff, Angst, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Grumpy/Sunshine, Friends to Lovers, Flashbacks, Grief/Mourning, Chronic Pain, Panic Attack, Depression, Ambulatory Wheelchair Use, Descriptions of the Rumbling (WC: 7k)

( Previous chapter / Next chapter / WMTS' Masterlist )

It’s past curfew when you catch a glimpse of Levi on the rooftop of the infirmary. He's been coming up here this past week, though this is the first time you approach him.

“You gonna tell anyone?” Levi asks. He’s playing with a small pocket knife, twirling it in his hand.

You consider his question. No doubt Erwin would want to know that his new gamble is sneaking away from the barracks every evening. Then again, knowing Erwin, he might already know and chooses to just let it slide anyway.

You lean your weight over the edge of the window sill, gazing at the way moonlight crowns Levi's hair. “Are you going to hurt anyone with that knife?”

Levi's eyes twinkle in the night. “What, just because I’m from the Underground means I’m gonna stab someone?”

“Actually,” you say carefully, “I was more worried about you hurting yourself.”

His eyes lose their fire; he focuses back on his knife. “I won’t.”

Freedom—it is the ability to glimpse at endless blue skies; it is horse riding until dusk; it is choices and opinions and being able to voice them.

These days, Levi takes it for granted, his freedom. He’s an ungrateful asshole like that.

If the people from his childhood would hear him now, they would spit in his face. Try to beat him to a pulp. Here he is, lacking gratitude, when some poor lowlife was born and died in that shit hole that was the Underground.

Levi hears that the Underground doesn’t exist anymore. You’ve told him that the Rumbling caused earthquakes to fracture the ground, that much of the subterranean city has been buried under. There were some casualties, of course, but the worst could be avoided since Historia had ordered a gradual evacuation years prior.

Levi wonders if the people now discovering life above ground still have violence in their blood the way he once did when he first saw the sun.

“Levi, where is your secret tea stash?”

Your question muffles over the sound of the kettle groaning awake on the gas stove, blending with the sound of waves crashing outside. It tears him right out of his thoughts and away from the headline he'd been reading: 'More than 75% of refugees in Marley now rehoused, much work still remains in the mental aftermath of the war'.

Levi has been up for several hours now, breakfast long since consumed. You, on the other hand, just got up, the whisks of sleep still present in your cadence, in the corners of your eyes. An anomaly to be sure—Levi remembers you being an early riser, but he supposes that habits, just like people, change.

“Why would I have a secret tea stash?” he counters.

You yawn, a hand covering your mouth. “Well... you always had a secret tea stash, didn't you?”

“To hide from cadets and their grubby fingers. I’m all alone here.”

“Mm," you shrug, words a little slurred, "you could still want to hide a thing or two from me.”

“Then I wouldn’t tell ya where it was, would I?” Levi leans one elbow over the kitchen table, chin lazily resting on the center of his palm. His index finally pokes out to give directions. “S’on the left side, second cupboard.”

Your gaze follows his directive, only to look at him with a slightly more straight posture. “See, that wasn’t so hard.” You stick your tongue out, like a damn child. “Words. They help.”

Levi refrains from rolling his eyes. He watches you open the cupboard, grabbing the tin of loose tea leaves.

On the chair next to him, Scout is curled up and fast asleep. The kitten's muzzle scrunches as she dreams.

“Are you sure I'm allowed to drink this?” he hears you ask.

Levi's eyes flicker back towards you. “Yeah."

"But isn't this special? Isn't this tea from Paradis?"

It is tea from Paradis, courtesy of Armin. It's one of Levi's last boxes, in fact. He knows he'll eventually run out of it, and while he supposes he could ask for more of it, he thinks his taste buds will just need to adapt to something else. That's just the way life goes.

"You know," he mutters, "if you’re gonna be like this about every little thing around the house, it's gonna get tiring real fast.”

You focus on preparing the tea. “I’m just being polite."

“Why? You never bothered before."

A grimace splits across your face. "Ouch. Harsh.”

"S'not," Levi mumbles, running a hand through his hair. It’s freshly washed, still a bit damp. "I mean, no need to act all fake and shit."

"Okay... but this isn't like life in the Survey Corps. This is your house."

His house. Levi doesn't know if he should be more possessive about these things, the way he's seen some townspeople be with their possessions, but Levi's just never been one to care about these things. He never has.

Levi flips his newspaper to the next page. "So long as you keep the place clean, I don’t care about the rest."

“You don’t care?”

His eyes meet yours. There's a spark in your gaze.

Oh you’re taunting him.

Levi crosses his arms over his chest. "Drill this into your head, Adler: anything that’s mine is yours, so just treat this place as such.”

That seems to shut you right up. You blink with a dumbfounded expression, apparently startled by his (accidental, Levi swears it was accidental) turn of phrasing. It’s soon replaced by words uttered beneath your breath, words Levi doesn’t quite grasp because his own ears are whistling. He returns his attention back to the newspaper, attempting to shrug off the weight of the innuendo.

Anything that’s mine is yours. What a stupid thing to say. That almost sounded like a confession or some shit.

For the next minute, Levi tries his damn best to focus on his newspaper.

“Getting her beauty rest, huh?”

You've placed two cups of tea on the table, one pushed towards him, along with a plate for the infusers. You're eying Scout.

“She seems glued to your side,” you add, sitting down.

“Kittens sleep a lot,” Levi supplies lamely.

“In any case, it’s cute to see the two of you together.”

Levi turns the handle of his cup to his left side. “Please.”

“Can you imagine what everyone would say? The fearless Captain Levi, succumbing to a cat—”

"Quit talking and just drink your tea, would you?”

A smirk tugs at your lips. “Aye, aye, captain."

For a moment, silence does fall, and his peripheral catches your chest rising and falling, something oddly quaint and peaceful about witnessing your breathing. You’re staring outside the window, looking at the view of the sea glimmering in the distance. He follows your line of sight, noting that there’s a buildup of crusted salt around the windows; Levi should really clean it off before summer ends.

“Hey, so,” you interrupt after a while, “I was thinking of going to the market today. Get a few things. Maybe find a job.”

Levi locks eyes with you. You’re holding onto your cup with two hands.

“A job?” Levi asks.

“Mm. Yeah. Something that makes sense for me...”

You want to get back to the medical field, already? You just got here.

“Why the hurry?"

“Well…" you say, "I don’t want to leech off you forever—”

“You're not.”

“Still, it'd be good for me, right?” You shoot a bright smile—something too bright about it. Levi eyes narrow. “Anyway, you wanna join or what?” Your eyes crinkle with softness. “You know... I’d love to meet all the nosy people you’ve told me about.”

Levi purses his lips, feeling as though you glossed over that subject much too quickly. A part of him wants to nudge you a bit, though his usual habit to just let you be kicks in. Whatever you're hiding, you have your reasons.

Levi considers your proposal. He knows it would be better if he didn’t join, seeing how damn foolish he’s already acting around you. He should try to set clear boundaries with you.

And yet—

“Sure,” comes out of him all the same.

Well, so much for that, anyway.

“You flew.”

You stand there, staring at the sight of the man as he finishes his round of training.

Levi shoots you a look, grappling with the hand grips. “I’m just using the ODM gear correctly.”

You take a step towards him. “No, but you’re amazing. You must know that, right? I’m not a soldier, but… I know talent when I see it.”

He gives you an odd look then, and before you have a chance to say anything else, propels himself in the air and disappears in the shadows of the forest.

At the market, Levi follows you around like a brooding shadow.

He’s in his wheelchair today. Behind him, you’re pushing him and asking questions about the scenery and the people and all sorts of trivial things.

(“Look, look there, all these teas. Have you tried any of them?”

“Some.”)

(“I'm gonna buy some flowers to plant in the gardens. Is that alright?”

“Do what you want.”)

(“Is the sea always as pretty?”

“Yeah. Sometimes, there's shit that gets carried in.”

"How poetic.")

(“Look, Levi! A car.”

“It looks dangerous.”

“I think I’d like to try driving. Get over my fear, you know?”

“You’re going to get yourself killed.”

“Hey, give me some credit! S’not so different from riding a horse, right?”

“You’ve got a few screws loose up there, you know that?”)

Well, Levi was never great at talking. Not that you seem to mind; you’ve always liked to ask him questions and fill in the blanks when needed. Most of the time, it’s the silence that sits comfortably between the two of you that Levi appreciates so much anyway. It just is, filling the space between the two of you like a soft cloud fills the sky with shapes.

You're moving next to him, calmly taking in the sight of the buzzing market. It's a little too busy for Levi's liking, but the sight of you distracts him: you’re wearing a sunhat with ribbons today, coupled with your cotton overalls. Levi’s never seen you wear a hat like this one before, but he thinks it suits you.

“You should protect your skin from the sun,” you’d said earlier. “That’s why I wear a hat.”

“I didn’t come to the surface to run away from the sun,” he’d grumbled back, even if he did notice how warm summers in Marley truly are (and yes, he’d gotten sunburned on several occasions, and also yes, his injured eye stings every time the sun shines too brightly... but, still, Levi wouldn’t budge).

“Good morning, dear boy! What a surprise to see you here!” someone says, tearing Levi out of the thoughts. Attached to that booming voice is none other than Levi's boss, Adam Jakowski.

Originally an Eldian from Marley, Mr Jakowski was one of the first residents that settled here in Mare. He quickly opened his carpentry shop, and when Levi moved in, he found a job there.

Today, however, Mr Jakowski isn't here for any carpentry-related trades. Every week-end, the man likes to come here and share the goods his wife makes.

"What brings you here?" Mr Jakowski asks.

“I was dragged out, believe it or not,” Levi answers, head bobbing towards you.

Next to him, he hears you snort.

“And who might this pretty young lady be? Are you the missus Ackerman, per chance?” Mr Jakowski asks, his tone carrying a curiosity only people genuinely interested in others are capable of mustering.

Levi feels his cheeks burn at the idea, but you just chuckle, swatting a hand in the air to dispel the notion. “No such thing, sir. But I am new to town and it pleases me all the same to make your acquaintance. Miss Adler, charmed to meet you.”

Levi’s thin brows knit together. It’s the first time he hears you introduce yourself without your profession tied in.

Miss Adler. Not Dr Adler.

Strange.

“Well met, Miss Adler… Well met, indeed! Ah, it is a pleasure to see new faces in Mare, especially a lovely one such as yours. Will you be staying here for a while?”

“Mm. Who knows?” You smile. “I can’t quite say yet, to tell the truth.”

Levi’s throat suddenly feels a little thick.

“Anyway, what are you selling here, sir?” you ask, peering over the stall of the merchant, gazing at all the products and zeroing on a particular one: a red paste.

“The one you're eying is a paste from the eastern part of Marley, ma'am. It’s made with paprika and bell-peppers, you see. Great for inflammations and stomach issues,” the old man explains. He makes you smell it, then turns around to sprinkle it onto something. “You can coat it like so,” he raises a piece of bread that he smears with the red paste, “or add it to your cooking.”

He hands you the toast.

You bite into it, chewing for several moments as you raise a hand over your mouth. “Walls! It does have such a particular taste. It’s the aftertaste, right? Spicy.”

Your eyes wander to meet Levi’s, and you raise the bread slightly in his direction as if to inquire if he wants to taste it as well. Levi shakes his head, and you shoot him a smile, gulping down the rest of the food.

Levi crosses his arms over his chest, drumming his left index in a series of five taps over his forearm—tap, tap, tap, tap, tap. Next to him, he hears the way you engage in easy conversation, talking about the weather, how the region has adjusted to the influx of settlers, how you're looking for a job and how, yes, you’d love to meet his wife and daughter!

The rest flies over his head. Instead, Levi looks up at your sunhat again, admiring the way it hugs the shape of your skull, the way the ribbons flow gently with the breeze.

Levi wonders if he could buy you a hat. Or sew you a new ribbon. Would you accept his gifts?

At last, you seem convinced of the product and order three jars. This is the moment when Levi comes back to his senses, seeing you rummage through your pockets to find coins to pay for your purchase.

No such luck.

Levi beats you to it, slinging out the leather pouch his first squad gifted him many years ago, placing the change in Mr Jakowski's hands.

You blink, mouth parted, but Levi just plops the jars he receives into your bag, wheeling himself back.

He hears you fumble your goodbyes to Mr Jakowski, thanking him for his help, and at once, your voice is in his ears.

“Levi, why did you just pay?” you ask, tone bewildered.

“Don’t make a big deal out of nothing.”

“I’m not." You stop in front of him, all stern-looking, hands on your hips. "You didn’t have to do that.”

Levi raises a defiant brow. “But I did, and it’s done.”

“Don’t make it sound so simple. You’re already letting me stay in your house for free. I intend to pay my dues, you know. I have money.”

“I'm sure you do.”

“You—”

“Complain again and I won’t let you pay for a damn thing.”

You close your mouth, glaring at him.

Levi swears he hears something along the lines of ‘I’ll just sneak it back into your pockets later’ whispered under your breath, but when he narrows his eyes in your direction, you feign a look of innocence.

After purchasing everything you wanted to purchase—a book on art, flower beds for the garden—you finally settle in a cozy little café on the town’s square. You order some pastries, while Levi takes his usual tea, the closest thing that resembles the tea from back home. You watch people from everywhere bustle by, while Levi sips on his drink.

“Hey, look!” you point out suddenly. “I’ve never seen those birds before.”

You've pointed to a flock of birds of all colors, no larger than a fist. They’re hopping on the ground, scavenging for food. You get up, asking for some seeds from a waiter to feed them.

“Why did they migrate to this part of the world?” you wonder as you lay out food for them.

Levi doesn’t know what to say. He stares at the birds, nibbling the seeds, admiring the way their feathers seem foreign in this strange land.

Maybe, Levi thinks to himself, just like all the rest of this town, the birds were looking for a new home.

“You know, you should try to teach them.”

Levi’s bored expression swerves in your direction. You’re back to leaning on the window sill, while he sits on the rooftop. A routine, these last weeks.

“What?” Levi mutters.

“Your combat skills. I saw you at training again. I’ve never seen anything quite like the way you handle yourself. You should teach the other cadets.”

His eyes narrow. “And why would I do that?”

“You’ve been out there, right? Seen what the titans are like? You could save their lives.”

The square of Mare is quiet at this time of the evening. A half-moon hangs lazily over the black sky, casting its silver glow over Mare.

You’ve both been drinking. Cheap, bubbly, acidic. Cremant, a drink native to Marley. It was given to you by a shopkeeper when you picked up bread earlier—all it took was seeing you by his side and hearing you were new in town. The woman practically threw the bottle at you, offering it as a welcome gift. You tried to refuse, many times over, but the woman wouldn't take no for an answer (“We need young blood around, so anythin’ to convince younglings like yourself to settle down!”).

Now, here you are, finishing the bottle together in a park. Levi sits with you on a bench, his wheelchair tucked behind it.

Silence.

Levi thinks there’s something on your mind. You’ve never been easy to read; you’ve got a tendency to hide and scheme, to play it off like it’s no big deal, but it’s always your lips that give you away. You bite them when you’re worried, you pout when you’re deep in thoughts.

“Hey.” Levi raises your attention, only to find gentle eagerness on your face. It makes him frown for some reason. “Say something.”

You seem a little taken aback by his directive. It’s rare for Levi to actually seek conversation after all, much less to be the one initiating it.

“What do you want me to say?” you ask.

Levi shrugs. “I don’t know, just anything.”

“Like… what?”

Levi mulls it over. If it were him, he’d hate to be put on the spot and asked outright what to say. So he decides to try a tactic he’s seen you use on others—starting with something light before finding the right angle to tackle the actual subject.

“What was your favorite sight?” he inquires. “On your travels.”

“My… favorite sight?”

Levi gives you a look that makes it clear he’s not gonna repeat himself.

“The sea, of course.” You raise your feet on the bench, hugging your knees as you stare off pensively. “It’s funny, really. With every nation we visited, we saw mountains, deserts and forests… but I kept coming back to the sea.”

Levi remembers the first he saw the sea. The water, glimmering like thousands of silver gems. The blue sky, coming to meet its shine. The 104th brats, with awestruck wonder. Hange and their brazen curiosity.

And you, the way you’d looked at him…

If ever there was a moment of peace during Levi’s years as a soldier, it was those blissful hours spent by the sea. It felt like the world had grown so big, and that there was only wonder to be discovered.

Of course, reality had caught up.

“I’m glad you’ve picked a place like this one to settle down,” you say. "It kind of feels like a homecoming, you know?"

"Yeah."

“The stars are so bright out here.”

Levi follows your line of sight.

This past year, Levi has rediscovered an admiration for stars. Back inside the Walls, they reminded him of Isabel and Furlan, of his dreams from another life. This past year, they’ve started making him think of you, too.

All because of one of your letters: 'Levi, do you ever think about the fact that, despite the distance that separates us, every night, when we look at the sky, we see the same stars?'

“What else,” he finds himself asking, “what else do you have to say about your travels?”

“Hmm… what do you want to know exactly? I wrote so much in my letters, I’d have thought you’d be tired of hearing about that topic.”

“Yeah, but you only described random shit. What was it like?”

What was it like without me?

That thought hangs on his tongue, begs for relief, but Levi bites it down. It’s not right for him to ask; it's none of his business.

And yet, your answer still takes him by surprise, “It was… hard.”

To that, Levi does raise a brow, looking at you.

He finds your gaze already on him.

“The sights were... nice, of course,” you continue. “I got to witness all manners of landscapes. Those were the photographs I sent you in my letters. But then, well, the rest came.”

You swallow loudly. Levi finds his heart squeezing, though he doesn’t fully understand why.

“Seeing the aftermath of the Rumbling…” Your lower lip quivers as the volume of your tone decreases. “It was horrifying. The emptiness was the worst. It’s not like murdering someone in cold blood, see. There, you have to deal with bodies. But, what Eren did…”

You shudder. Levi thinks you’re trying to even out your breathing, and a part of him wants to reach out to you and squeeze your hand. And yet, he knows there’s nothing he can do to really alleviate those images flashing in your brain. That nothing he does can make it right again, that the pain you feel is the cost both of you need to bear for the rest of your lives.

“After that, I went with Armin because I knew he would need help, because I always believed in diplomacy… because I still believe in it. Even now," you say. "But many nations hate the Eldians from Paradis. They hate us and maybe they have every right to hate us.”

You stop talking and close your eyes. For a while, the lull in conversation allows Levi to stare at you unabashedly, to commit your features to memory.

“Why did you never say any of this in your letters?” he asks mid-silence.

“I guess it felt easier not to mention it. I don’t know. I wanted you to hear hopeful things in my letters.”

“I’ve seen how shitty the world can be.”

“I know, but that’s exactly why.” Your eyes somehow find his own again. “That’s why I didn’t want you to know it’s still the same out there.”

It makes Levi’s blood rush, like he was some breakable thing that needed to be protected.

“You don’t need to coddle me.”

And yet, you don’t even seem to notice the snap in his tone, your crossed arms tightening around your knees.

“I know, Levi,” you whisper. “But that doesn’t mean that my pain is your burden to bear.”

Seeing your deflated expression, dipped chin resting over your knees as you lose yourself to your thoughts, Levi’s defense mechanism fizzles away.

That’s the thing about you.

No matter how harshly he reacts, you never seem to rise to the same level as him, the way others did in the military, and it might be why Levi always found it easier to stay by your side.

“You dumbass,” he says with a sigh. Despite telling himself to hone it back, Levi can’t help but raise a hand to the back of your skull, ruffling your head gently—the only comfort he knows how to hand out right now. “Of course that’s my burden.”

The knot in your throat bobs. “Levi, you don’t—”

“Don’t give me that.” He pauses, the words heavy on his tongue. “Even I no longer have the rank to prove it… what does it matter? Nothing’s changed.”

Your voice comes out grated. “Nothing’s changed?”

Levi hesitates. So much hangs on this question. Of course, things have changed.

And yet…

He retreats his hand, patting his stiff leg. “Some things did.”

“Does it still hurt a lot?”

“Some days more than others. The doctor has helped.”

“I’m glad... I'm so glad. Are you still seeing him every other week?”

He nods.

“That’s good. I’m glad.”

His eyes narrow. “You said that already.” You shoot him a lopsided smile. He sighs. “Anyway, you gonna tell me why you stopped calling yourself a doctor?”

Different degrees of surprise flash across your face. Your eyes are wide as saucers, while your mouth stays slightly open.

Levi waits. And waits.

“Hey, you’re not trying to catch flies, are you?” he says, lifting a finger to poke at your chin.

His physical reminder seems to bring you back to the present.

A pout forms on your lips. “How did you know I no longer want to be a doctor?”

Levi shrugs with one arm, pressing his back against the bench. “I guessed, and you just confirmed it.”

“I didn’t think you’d notice so quickly." You let out a wry snort. "Should have known; you’re always so perceptive.”

“And you’re beating around the bush.”

You hum. “Indeed, I am. It’s just… I’m scared of your judgment.”

Levi frowns.

“Don’t give me that look, Levi Ackerman. Your judgment, yes. You’re a very scary man, just not for all the reasons people think you are.”

In the distance, the sound of seagulls drifts from the skies.

“When I asked you if I could come here…” you say after a pause, “I kept on thinking to myself: What will Levi think of me?” You raise one hand to your face, glancing at the scar that runs from your index to the lower part of your palm—a memento left by the Yaegerists. “What will he think of this hand?”

Levi stays silent.

Your smile turns bitter. “You always said my hands were made for healing. But after everything that happened, everything we did, they’re not anymore. They can’t be.”

“Hey—”

“—and the question kept playing in a loop in my head. Will Levi think I’m a coward? Will he think less of me for giving up on this? Is he gonna be done with me?”

Levi ignores all the ways you seem to include him in your insecurities and focuses on one thing only: “You’re a lot of things but a coward isn’t one of them.”

You shake your head. “But I am a coward. I don’t have it in me to heal people, not like that anymore.”

Levi doesn’t know why, but there’s a sense of dread forming in his pit of his stomach.

“Is that why you’re here?” he asks.

Your eyes fire back on him. “No, I didn’t come here to escape, or as a last resort.” You glance away. “But I do feel… lost.”

That makes him backtrack. You? Lost? The doctor who blazed through the Survey Corps’ ranks, making her demands known to the Interior and Erwin like it was no big deal, who pushed for changes to save soldiers' lives?

That doesn’t align with the person he knows.

“I don’t think it’s right anymore, the path I chose.” Your tone is suddenly more frail, more vulnerable. “The first three years after the Rumbling, it felt like the right thing to do, giving my skills in helping others but now… Now I feel like a fraud. To arrive here, I had to end lives.”

Levi’s throat is heavy. “We all did.”

You ignore his words. “The attack in Trost, the one in Liberio, and so many others…. I killed people there. I did. And I remember your words, Levi, about it being us or them but I… now, whenever I look at my hands, all I see is the stain of blood. After all of that, I just don’t think I’m fit to call myself a doctor anymore.”

“You shouldn’t regret the past.”

“That’s easier said than done.”

“Is that why you’re now calling yourself Miss Adler?”

You nod.

Levi purses his lips. He cannot understand your perspective, not truly, because his own moral compass has never been set right. To him, killing was always about survival and there was never good or bad. There simply was the act and the aftermath. There was the fact that he needed to keep on pushing, for humanity.

Despite this, Levi wants to understand. He wants to tell you that your hands did heal, that they continue to heal in invisible ways.

He wants to tell you that however you want to become want, it’s all fine to him.

“Then start over,” he declares, throwing an arm to the back of the bench.

“Yeah.” You snort, fiddling with a loose strand of fabric of your overalls. “It’s not that easy, starting over, is it?”

“Never said it was.” Levi would know. It’s not like he’s here to preach the moral high ground—he’s lost, much more lost than you are. “But if you want to, you’re the only one that can make it happen.”

“Yeah, I know.” You raise a hand to press against your right eye. Levi has the strange urge to tuck it away, to take it in between his own, but he holds himself back. “It’s just… hard. You know, when we were fighting titans, then humans, then nations… I just never considered who I would be after all of it. And when I found myself trying, I found I wasn’t the person I once was, that I couldn’t do what I would have done any more. You know?”

“Yeah.”

“Old me would have kept on going. Old me would have continued to heal people and traveled and helped Armin with peace negotiations. And I tried. Walls, I tried, Levi. But at the end of the day, I just find myself… tired. I’m just so tired.”

Something heavy fills Levi’s chest. He understands, to a degree, what you’re going through. He knew his role was over the moment that the fighting stopped, but for you, the war hasn’t stopped raging—conflicted on where your place should be.

“Sorry," you say, "I know I’m wallowing here, that I’m throwing my own pity party. But, shit, it’s hard, you know?”

“Yeah.” Levi hardens his expression. “But it’s fine, to wallow. No one expects you not to have setbacks.”

“You don’t mean that. Weren’t you always telling soldiers not to linger and look back? Besides, I don’t get to say any of this in front of you. Not with everything you went through.”

Levi’s jaw clenches. “Hey. It’s not a competition.”

This time, he reaches for your hand and unclasps it, noticing you digging your nails into your skin. He forces you to squeeze his hand instead—only, now, you treat him with such care, not even applying pressure.

He continues, “I only said what I said because a Scout’s life was a battlefield every day. But we’re not soldiers anymore.”

Levi sucks in a breath at those words; it’s the first time he acknowledges it out loud: We're not soldiers anymore. He’s a hypocrite, saying these things, when he himself hasn’t let go completely. And yet, for your sake, he wants to pretend—he wants to pretend that there’s a way out for the both of you.

“So I’ve told you, the offer still stands," he adds. "You can stay here for as long as you want."

“Careful what you promise, Levi." You snort. "I’m going to be a real burden to you.”

“Only when you don’t clean.”

Your weak snicker turns into laughter. It might be the most enchanting of sounds Levi’s heard in a long while.

Levi lets go of your hand, despite the fact that he wishes he could hold on, but he tells himself that friends don’t hold each other’s hands for prolonged moments. And that's what the two of you are. Friends.

“You know, when it came down to it… after months of introspection,” you say, voice soft, “all I knew is that I wanted to be near you.”

Oh.

“I stayed away for a year, thinking I could prove to myself, to you, that I wasn’t the needy person I once was," you say. "That I could, I don’t know, manage on my own. But all I got was… how much I missed you.”

Levi thinks his breathing might have stopped entirely.

“Levi, you’re… you’re important to me. You know that, right?” Your eyes find his own, glimmering under the moonlight. “I think… I just don’t want to not have you in my life anymore. Is that a strange thing to say?”

Levi is speechless. He stares at your lips, how plump and lovely they seem, glistening with moisture. He feels sweat on his back—damn this hellish warm weather—and he thinks perhaps he should act.

He forces his mouth open but instead of words—

Bang.

An explosion blasts in his ears.

Levi screws his eyes shut, bracing himself for the impact. There’s screams echoing in the back of his skull, bullets ricocheting against concrete. He smells the charred scent of bodies, sweet and off-putting.

But the fighting never comes. When he evens out his breathing, leaning his weight onto the bench, he notices—

You’re on the floor.

Your hands are covering your ears, your lower lip wobbling. You’re muttering things under your breath, things Levi can’t recognize, but there’s tears brimming the corner of your eyes, and Levi realizes then what happened.

You’re hyperventilating.

At once, Levi is by your side, bending down. The action causes his legs to scream in pain, but he promptly ignores it. He sees you and only you.

You, on the other hand, are unable to look at him; you whimper erratically.

Levi can deduce the source of your panic, because he’s had his own moments like this. It’s the way certain noises, smells, and others pull him back into the past. It must be the same for you.

“Hey,” Levi’s voice comes low and clear, trying to muster it all for you, “take a deep breath. It's not guns. Just fireworks some teenagers are toying with.”

But you seem unable to follow his advice, shaken as you are. You squeeze your eyes shut, tears clumping, streaming thick down the valleys of your cheeks. He sees your fingers pull at the strands of your hair.

Before he can think about it, his arms reach out of you, looping around the small of your back, where he draws you in. He presses you firmly against him. At first, you attempt to fight him back, muttering “no, no, no,” beneath your breath, scratching him, but when Levi finally manages to smooth over your words with his own, you accept the embrace.

Your head slumps down into the crest of his shoulder, like you were just a ragdoll gone limp. Levi tries to ignore the way his worry doubles down.

“Adler, listen to my voice,” he urges, trying to use things that have helped him during his worst panic attacks, during his worst episodes. Of course, Levi never allowed anyone to see him like this, but if he had, he thinks this would have helped. “Your ear’s pressed against my heart right now. Do you hear my heartbeat?”

“Y-yeah,” you answer, voice barely a raw whisper. The sound is enough to shatter something in Levi. It’s so small, so fragile.

“Focus on it," he says. "Focus on me speaking. Pretend that it’s the only sound in the world.”

You seem to attempt to laugh, but it comes across as another nervous sob, hiccups strangling your words. “S-someone thinks h-ighly of his v-voice.”

Levi just clicks his tongue, tightening his hold on you.

Your hands interweave with the collar of his shirt, and you bury your face deeper into his neck. It takes several moments, but he feels the tension in your spine untangle, vertebrate by vertebrate.

“Steady,” he murmurs against the shell of your ear. “You’re alright.”

Your warm lips, drenched with tears, move against his neck. “I just can’t do it, ‘Vi… I just can’t.”

“You can.”

“I’m fucking stuck and I feel so guilty there’s always noises in my brain…” A sob cracks out of you. “I’m so fucking lost.”

“But you’re not alone.”

Your knuckles tighten, but your breath falters.

“You’re not alone,” Levi repeats. His three-fingered hand weaves through the hair at the back of your skull, mingling between your locks. He’s reminded of another time, long ago, when he did this after Nanaba died. “Even if you feel lost right now, you’re not alone.”

“I just—I don’t want to be a bother. I don't want to overstay my w-welcome.”

“You’re not.” His hands have fallen onto your ribcage, slotting over every bone like they were made to belong there all along. “You can stay as long as you want.” Until you grow tired of me. “Whatever you want, it’s yours.”

You’re still hiccuping for air as you draw away from him. You seem to be searching for something, dazed and blurry.

“Y-you don’t mind?” you ask.

"Have I ever said something I didn't mean?"

"I guess not."

For a while, neither Levi nor you say anything else. He watches as your eyes cast down, eyelashes still full of tears. Your breath is back to being steady, though no less frail.

Eventually, your digits settle over his forearms, looking back at him with puffy eyes.

He offers you his clean handkerchief from his breast pocket.

You take it with a crooked smile, staring down at the white cloth. “Thank you, Levi. I mean it.”

Levi looks away; he doesn't think he's done much.

“Walls.” You hiccup, lifting the handkerchief to your eyes. “I’ve made a scene, haven’t I? It’s the alcohol, I s-swear. I barely d-drink these days.”

“You were always a lightweight.”

“Pff, don’t remind me.”

“Well, judging by the brats walking towards us," he says, looking over your shoulders, "they’ve come to apologize.”

Sure enough, moments later, as you help Levi up and you both sit back down on the bench, three snotty kids approach the scene with a look of apology plastered on their faces.

One of them, a boy with vibrant ginger hair, takes the lead. “Ma’am… are you alright?”

You sniffle, eyes still red. “Fine—”

“She’s not fine, brat,” Levi interjects. “Don’t light this shit up in public.”

The boy grimaces with the kind of juvenile innocence only kids can muster.

“Don’t listen to him,” you say, giving Levi a look. “But hey, do try to be careful, ‘kay? Don’t light up things like this all on your own. Fireworks are dangerous, not to mention they’re scary when they’re up so close.”

“I... I won't do it no more, ma’am…" the boy says. "I really didn’t mean to scare you.”

“That’s alright. You couldn’t have known.”

The boy nods before finally fleeting up and meeting Levi's glare. The child instantly cowers back.

“Mistakes happen," Levi grumbles with a softer tone. "Just be more careful.”

“Y-yeah, mister. Won’t happen again.”

"Good."

Erwin finds you in the stables one day. “Levi is integrating with the squad.”

You stop cleaning your horse, raising a brow at the man. “Is he now?”

“Mm." There's wistful amusement on the Erwin's face. "He's started giving advice to his comrades.”

"Is that right?"

That night, when you greet Levi on the rooftop of the infirmary, you don't say a thing about this exchange, but you'll smile just a bit brighter at him anyway.

Levi comes back from his evening shower to find something waiting for him in his bedroom. A piece of paper, carefully folded in three, is placed on his cabinet. Next to it is a medium-sized, black pouch.

Levi first unfolds the piece of paper, unsurprised to find that it’s a letter and that it’s from you.

Levi, You’ll excuse me for coming in without asking, but you insinuated I should make myself comfortable, so… Here I am. You know, if you're going to let me pay for things, then it’s decided: I’m going to bribe you with new tea! No, you can’t fight me on that. As you know, I’m a force of nature—unstoppable. Here’s a new blend for you. I know for certain you haven’t tried this one because it’s straight from my travels. I don’t know why I waited a week to give it to you, but I hope you like it. Your amazing new roomie,- A.

Levi’s lips twitch. He can just picture you scribbling those words in your room, a grin on your face, waiting for him to take a shower just so you can place this handout in secret.

He briefly puts the letter back down, moving to open the gift. The black pouch hides a tea tin of simple design, with an etiquette that’s handwritten. White pu-erh tea. He slowly unscrews the sealed top, bringing it close to his nose to inhale its potent fragrant. Tea aromas, rich in citrus, fill his brain with a lovely buzzing effect. It smells nice, unlike anything he’s encountered before and Levi thinks its taste will be to his liking—that you picked it knowing it would.

His eyes stray back to the letter, picking it back up. He loves the way you write his name, the way you loop the letters together. It's elegant.

With his heart just a bit lighter than usual, Levi adds your letter to the chest under his bed, filled with the rest of your correspondence.

A/N: Thanks for reading! I was really touched by all the engagement the first chapter got, truly, so thank you for that. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and hey, if you have a minute, I'd love to hear your thoughts in any shape or form! Take care <3

( Next chapter / Join my taglist )

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under-the-stars-au · 2 months ago

Note

interesting you know of the echo flowers, Isabeau, when did you learn about them

They have been in the Underground for a while now, of course they know about echo flowers x)

___________ This answer took a ridiculous amount of time to make ! But finally it's here, the next ones I planned to answer might take less time to make It may not be ideal to make such long answers, but I like taking time to give some lore and make some funny interactions too

___________ THE DIALOGUES IN CASE YOU CAN'T READ MY HANDWRITING 1 :

Isa : Well, it's kinda obvious, right ? A monster told us 'bout it ! Isa : We were just heading to this place after passing through the wacky skeleton 2 :

Isa : We all agreed when we left the ruins to avoid interactions with monsters as much as possible Isa : We need to protect ourselves and the kid by being as discreet as possible 3 :

Isa : But Sif... doesn't care at all. He just approach them and talk to them like they are buddies ! Isa : We tried to stop him at first, but after a while we just let that slide Isa : So, when we arrived at "Waterfall", he approached a monster and asked them about those weird flowers 4 : Isa : And they answered them with a big smile Isa : They said that those things were called "echo flowers", and that they repeat the last thing they heard on loop 5 : Isa : Talking back to each other until it turns into meaningless mumbles 6 : Bonnie : Eeesh, that's creepy Mirabelle : Oh Change, I'm having chills just looking at it, it's, it's... 7 : Mirabelle : The coolest thing I've even seen in my life ! Isa : He, it reminds you of those books you love huh ? 8 : Siffrin : BONNIE HAS A CRAB FACE 9 : *echo flowers repeat that last line* 10 : Bonnie : GAASP YOU ! Isabeau laugh loudly Mirabelle : Siffrin !! That was so mean ! Odile : Okay, okay kids, it was funny and all but we should get going 11 : Bonnie : ZA DON'T KNOW HOW TO USE CHOPSTICKS ! 12 : *echo flowers repeat again* 13 : Isa : W-Wha ? I didn't even said anything... Bonnie : HA ! Now all the monsters know that you're a big baby Za ! Mirabelle : Both of you STOP IT Odile : You kids clearly have no clue what "being quiet" means. Stop this or we'll die Siffrin (inner dialogue) : No matter how many times you bring him into this mess, it's always funny 14 : Isa : Aaaand that's the tell of our "echo flowers adventure" Mirabelle : Even though talking to monsters can be dangerous since they can take our souls, I really like learning more about them 15 : Odile: Could you tell me why you are answering those questions ? It's not like those flowers can hear you, or even answer back Isa : He, who knows ? Maybe that tiny skeleton guy can actually hear us through those. And I dare you to tell me that it isn't funny to answer to weirdly specific questions coming from a flower Mirabelle : It is really funny. You should try answering too Madame 16 : Siffrin (inner dialogue) : But it does seem like they can hear and answer back. They wouldn't have ask about the flowers if they didn't. Strange... Odile : I WON'T participate in the pranks and games of that "tiny skeleton guy". I am still incredibly annoyed by this monster

Thank you for your patience <3

#art #underthestars #isat #in stars and time #in stars and time crossover #undertale #undertale crossover #undertale au #undertale fandom #undertale ask blog #isat crossover #isat fanart #isat isabeau #isat mirabelle #isat siffrin #isat spoilers #isat bonnie #isat boniface #isat odile

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sluttyten · 1 month ago

Text

magic tricks and magical d*cks

Kinktober Day 3 | Johnny Masterlist | Member Masterlist

tags: warlock!johnny, wand puns, magic, blowjobs, cock worship, fingering, strangers to lovers

length: 5435

Growing up, you’d always believed in magic.

You were raised on Harry Potter, dreaming of getting your Hogwarts letter at eleven, disappointed when it didn’t arrive. As a child, you spent a lot of time making up rhyming phrases with your friends that you pretended were spells, buying crystals, trying to channel the innate magic you knew you must have been born with.

Nothing.

Once you reached high school, you started getting into the occult, into underground communities that truly believed in and practiced magic. Real magic.

It was all real.

A whole world mingled with yours, practicing magic and demonology and all sorts of incredible things that you’d almost begun to think couldn’t exist.

But it does.

You find your community in Chicago, on the shores of Lake Michigan.

And it’s there that you learn of Johnny.

Johnny isn’t necessarily what you expected a warlock to be. You hear warlock and you imagine an uber-powerful grizzly, gnarled older man wearing robes and wielding a staff, chanting in an ancient, forgotten language.

But Johnny is young and hot, he dresses like a runway model, and when you’re lucky enough to observe him spell-casting he uses English and occasionally Korean. And he’s the top warlock in the Midwest.

He’s everything you aspire to be as a spellcaster. Johnny has the power and prestige that you’ve felt you’re destined to have. He’s a god among mere mortals.

So you’re kind of his fangirl. Among the magic-scene of Chicago, Johnny is sort of like the hottest bachelor, a party boy who hosts the best parties because everything is enhanced by magic — the lights, the music, the food, booze, drugs — and he’s like the mayor of the underground. He takes care of the city and surrounding areas, overseeing infrastructure spells, protection spells, making sure that local spellcasters don’t go too wild on the holidays.

He basically reminds you of Magnus Bane from the Mortal Instruments series (who you’d definitely had a crush on while reading the books and when you’d watched the film).

Shortly after you ingratiate yourself into the magical community in Chicago, you befriend a man named Kun. Kun began his interest in magic with sleight of hand and card magic, but he’d slowly slid into true magic, learning from a talented wizard in China before Kun heard about Johnny. He immigrated to America just to move to Chicago and learn from the best.

Though, when you meet him, Kun hasn’t yet succeeded in attaining the apprenticeship with Johnny just yet.

“But I’m learning a lot of new spells,” he tells you. “It’s interesting how spells differ around the world, in different languages. How different people access their magic.”

Kun, for example, uses a stereotypical magician wand – the ebony stick with ivory tips. When you came to Chicago and found the community, a kindly old witch helped you create your wand – a short oak wand with a rose quartz set in the tip. But you’ve known witches that exclusively use crystals to access their powers, warlocks who wield staffs, some access their magic through amulets, and there’s even been a warlock you met that simply used his iPhone to cast his spells.

But, typically, almost all of the spellcasters you’ve met have used wands of some sort, and you love it when everyone comes together, as it gives you the chance to see the diversity of magic, like Kun was saying.

It’s Kun that first introduces you to the celebrity of Johnny on your first New Years Eve in the city, dragging you along to the warlock’s citywide blessing celebration. It's there that you first lay eyes on Johnny’s beauty, and you first witness him perform magic.

You’re far back in the crowd, but you can hear Johnny's voice booming over the crowd as midnight nears, he promises a safe and prosperous year, and as the seconds tick down, Johnny begins casting. You can’t see him at all, but you see the resulting network of protection thrown up in the sky, stretching towards the outer limits, resembling fireworks as midnight strikes.

It’s the most incredible magic you’ve ever seen, and suddenly you understand Kun’s obsession with the warlock.

As you leave the site, Kun nearly crushes your hand when he realizes that you’re walking right by where Johnny stands. He’s just standing there with a sparkling glass of champagne in hand, laughing with a group of people. His hair is long, down to his chin, dyed a warm shade of brown, a bit windblown.

You pause, watching him for a moment, and you swear his gaze slips away from one of the other men he’s talking to, and for a second his eyes meet yours.

A warm spark embeds itself in your chest.

And then he’s looking away again, and Kun’s pulling you down the park path towards the train station. But you’re hooked on Johnny by that point.

“It’s my goal to get invited to one of his parties,” Kun tells you once you’re on the train home. “I know a guy who’s apprenticed to Johnny, and he keeps promising me that he’s going to get me an invite to a party, or at least put in a good word the next time an apprenticeship spot opens.”

You go on with your normal life, hearing about Johnny through the gossip network of magic users you encounter in the city.

In those first few months of the year, you’re so busy with work (at your devastatingly non-magical job) that you don’t get much practice in with your spell work except for simple ones like housework, warming spells, and some productivity spells to help you finish your work a little faster. When March rolls around, thawing the city a little from deep winter, replacing all of the snow and ice with lots of rain (mixed with some days of snow and ice), you finally catch a little break.

“We thought you’d left the city,” a witch friend says when you finally show up at a weekly Witching and Wining night at a witch-run bar. “No one’s seen you in months! Whatever you want, babe, tonight it’s on me. I’ve missed you, and I’ve been dying to tell you about this client I had!”

She buys your first drink of the night, sits there babbling at you about a client who hired her for some cosmetic architectural spellwork. A few other witches and warlocks join in with stories of their horrible clients, and soon you’re feeling a little more grateful that your magic isn’t yet up to the par of being able to take on a magical occupation.

One warlock, who works as a meteorologist for a news channel in the city, complains loudly about how he swears there’s someone magically sabotaging the weather. “Things have just been wild in terms of weather. Blizzard after blizzard. The ice drifts on the lake? They’re damn near giant icebergs out there. The weather changes on a dime, huge winter storms springing up out of nothing. It’s worse than usual this winter. I’ve put in a request to His Royal Highness Johnny’s people to look into it, but all I keep getting is his apprentices. I’ve heard rumors that his powers are actually waning, and he knows his New Year protection spell didn’t take as it should’ve, so he’s in hiding.”

“You’re ridiculous!” Your friend says, swatting the warlock’s arm. “The weather here always sucks. It doesn’t mean anyone’s cursed is. And maybe Johnny is busy. I’ve heard rumors that the city police have recruited him to track down a serial killer.”

You know Kun would be sitting here denying every accusation against his idol, but he’s gone right now, flown home to China for a few weeks. You’re watching his apartment, which couldn’t have happened at a better time since it was just when your lease on your place expired.

When the end of Witching and Wining night comes, you bid your friends a goodnight, bundle yourself into your coat, and you step out into the night.

This part of the city has a high magical population, which is exactly why Kun moved here, and you’re grateful for that right now as you’ve only got a fifteen minute walk back to his place instead of a ten minute walk to the train station, the lengthy train ride, and then a thirteen minute walk from there to your old place. And tonight the air is bitterly cold, thick clouds fill the sky, the ugly gray that tells you they hold either rain or snow, and given how cold it is, you can sense another blizzard coming on.

You rub your hands together, trying to keep the blood flowing to your fingertips before you remember that you’re a witch now. You dig your wand out of your coat pocket, and with the quartz tip, you draw a symbol in each of your palms. You slip your wand back into your pocket, feeling the symbols tingling on your hands, and you bring your cupped palms up to your lips as you whisper the words of the warming spell that matches the symbols. A small flame appears, shielded in your hands from the breeze. You hunch your shoulders against the wind, wishing you’d worn a hat and scarf tonight, but when you’d left earlier in the evening, it had been a mild 50°F, which is a rather decent temperature.

As you walk, snow begins to fall and the wind grows stronger and stronger until you step around a corner, and the wind buffets you backwards. Your shoulder crashes into the wall of the building, and you drop your warm little flame, helpless as it extinguishes itself on the ground.

You curse, wrapping your arms around yourself against the cold wind. Flurries hit your cheeks, and you’re already running through a list of warming, defrosting, and drying spells for once you reach Kun’s apartment. The snow is melting into your shoes and down the collar of your coat.

You brace the corner again, bowing your head and shouldering into the wind, walking straight into it down the street. Just two more blocks before you’re there, but you feel like every step you take, the wind pushes you back two more. And it’s so cold, your nose and eyes are both watering, your teeth chatter, but you can’t think of a warming spell strong enough to work in this situation.

You’ve made it halfway along the block when you’re suddenly enveloped in a pocket of warmth, blessedly wind free.

Of course, without the resistance of the wind there, you suddenly fall forward onto the snowy sidewalk.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t think about that happening, I was just trying to make your walk a little easier,” a masculine voice says above you.

Hands grip the back of your jacket, and suddenly you’re being lifted up, placed once more on your own two feet.

And you’re facing him. Johnny. The great warlock of Chicago.

He smiles. “This storm really came out of nowhere, huh?” He brushes a hand down your back, knocking off snow. “My apprentices told me that the meteorologists can’t make sense of it, and I’ve been away in Seoul on some warlock business, but, shit. I thought I’d take a look around, see what they were talking about. And this doesn’t look good.”

You’re just staring at him, perhaps a bit dumbly, but you can’t help it. He’s even more handsome at this distance — close enough that you can see each eyelash, the stubble on his chin, the bobbing of his Adam’s apple — and he’s talking to you like this is normal, like you know each other and he’s just catching up with you.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes suddenly, taking a half step back. “I’m Johnny Suh, High Warlock of Chicago.” Johnny holds his hand out to you.

You slide your hand into his, savoring the heat of his palm against yours, the strength as he closes his fingers around your hand, the firmness of his handshake. Even more than that, you feel that embedded spark in your chest flare up when Johnny’s eyes light up and he grins when you tell him your name.

“It’s nice to meet you.” He releases your hand, and you’re loath to let go, but you reluctantly let your hand fall back to your side. “Although, I feel like we’ve seen each other before.”

“Oh my god,” slips out before you realize it, and as soon as you realize you actually said that aloud, you cover your mouth with your hand. “I’m sorry, Mr. Suh. I just… I’ve seen you once before, at the New Years Eve ceremony. We, like, made eye contact, so I didn’t imagine that you would recognize me.”

Johnny’s mouth twists with barely suppressed amusement. “I have a good memory for faces and names. I won’t forget yours now.”

Bitter wind cuts through the bubble Johnny’s created around you both, and you shiver. Johnny frowns, looking away from you to scan the street.

“There’s definitely something strange about this weather,” Johnny remarks. “I understand why the weathermen have sought my attention. Someone Is tampering with the typical weather patterns, there’s a signature in this storm. Definitely something magical to be able to cut through my ward.”

“It blew straight through my heating spell,” you confess, trying not to feel small beside Johnny.

A contemplative look crosses his face. “Where are you headed?” Johnny asks, still looking like he’s thinking deeply about something.

“I’m on my way home.” And you’re not looking forward to stepping back out into the cold.

As if Johnny can read your mind, his attention snaps to you, and he offers, “I can walk you the rest of the way there.” He offers you his arm, and he says, “I can keep you warm.”

Heat floods you at the double meaning behind his words, but you gratefully accept Johnny’s arm.

To your delight and fascination, Johnny flirts with you the next two blocks, his presence providing you with protection from the cold, the wind, and the snow. You know he’s got a reputation for being a great party boy, but you wonder if he’s a notorious playboy too, if he’s walking you home with the intention of bedding you tonight.

Not that you would object to that.

Johnny walks you up to the door of Kun’s apartment, his hands brushing your back, your arms, and he’s all smiles and charm. And when you reach the door, as you press your key into the lock, Johnny stands right behind you. He’s got one hand on the edge of the doorway, and when you twist around to look at him, he only grins and leans in.

Feeling bold, you grab the front of his shirt, and you drag him the rest of the way in.

Johnny pins you between his body and the door, his mouth ravishing yours. You place your hand on the back of his neck, twist your fingers through his long hair.

“Please come inside,” you murmur into the kiss. With your free hand, you fumble for the doorknob. “Just, um, just give me one second to dismantle my roommate’s protective enchantments.”

Johnny distractingly keeps kissing and touching whatever parts of you he can as you stand there, unraveling Kun’s protections on the apartment, until the last of them snaps away, leaving the path clear for you to drag Johnny inside.

You hope he doesn’t mind that this apartment is small and not totally tidy. It’s not a mess by any means, but you’ve been sleeping on the pull out sofa bed. And since you've moved out of your apartment, and this is your temporary place, your boxes are everywhere. You have an open box sitting halfway between the kitchen and the bathroom, piled high with laundry. And the sofa bed is unmade from when you’d flown out of it this morning, running late for work.

Johnny probably doesn’t even look around. As soon as you’ve shut the door behind you both, he starts to reel you in again, starts to pull you away from the door, but you press against his chest.

“Wait, I need to put them back together.” You won’t feel safe unless you’ve got all the enchantments up; it would be like leaving the door unlocked.

“I’ve got it.” Johnny waves his hand. You can see the thin silver and gold threads of magic lacing back together around the perimeter of the apartment, a few extra layers of protection that weren’t there before, all of them brighter and stronger than the ones that Kun had.

You’re still gazing at them in awe when Johnny cups your cheek, when he brushes his lips against yours once more, backing you through the living room. He waves his hand again, and a fire springs to life in the fireplace Kun never uses (probably because this is an old ass apartment building whose ancient chimneys shouldn’t be used anymore). Another flick of his fingers, and among the built-ins that line one wall of the room, the stereo system kicks on, softly playing music.

“Wait,” you murmur even as you’re sinking down onto the unmade sofa bed. “How are you doing all of this? Where’s your wand?”

Is he doing wandless magic? Casting without anything to channel his power?

Johnny grins, standing there above you. “Do you want to see my wand, angel?”

Fuck, does he think you meant that in a sexy way? Well, now that he’s said that, you do want to see his wand, but you also actually want to see his wand. Doesn’t he have one?’

When Johnny tucks his thumb into the waistband of his pants, you decide you can hold off on answers about his wandless magic until a later date. For now, you just want to see whatever he’ll show you.

“Can I see your wand, Johnny?” You perch on the edge of the sofa bed, legs spread enough that Johnny can stand between them. You tilt your head back, looking up at him. “You’re so powerful, I bet your wand has got to be huge.”

He smirks.

With a snap of his fingers, Johnny’s pants come undone – unbuttoned, unzipped, pulled down just enough that his large cock can spring out.

Maybe his wand truly is magical because one look at it, and all rationality flies from your head. You become single-minded, all thoughts other than desire are erased, just a single horny braincell bouncing around inside your mind.

You just want to worship his cock, to kiss and lick and touch and suck. You want to make him cum, to see him shooting from the tip. You wonder if even his cum holds a bit of his power, if tasting it will get you one step closer to being where he is.

He truly is sporting a huge dick. He’s long at probably seven inches, wide enough around that you know it won’t take much to get your jaw aching, and you might as well use both hands on him. And if you get the chance to take his cock inside you, you know it’s going to be such a stretch, that he’s going to hit so deep inside you, you’ll be feeling it for a week. But despite that – or maybe because of that – you want him even more.

“Go on, angel,” Johnny says, placing his hand on your head and nudging you forward. “You can touch.”

“I’ve never seen a wand like this,” you tease, lifting one hand to touch. You brush your fingertips along the underside of his cock. “I’m not so sure I know what to do with it, how to handle it.” You cast a look up at his face.

Johnny’s hungry gaze rests on your lips. “Should I show you, teach you?”

You nod. “Well, you’re the all-powerful High Warlock of the city, who better to show me how to handle a wand than you, sir?”

Johnny groans, “You’re gonna give me the biggest head, stroking my ego like that, angel.”

“Is your ego all that I’m supposed to stroke?” You again glide your fingers along his cock, from base to tip, swirling your finger around his tip once before you pull your hand back down to your lap. “Can you show me how to handle your wand, please?”

Johnny doesn’t say another word, just spits into his hand before reaching down to curl his hand around his cock. He strokes his hand along his length, and you watch from up close, your mouth watering with the need to have him buried down your throat. You won’t be able to take him all the way, not at first anyway, so you’re already planning how you’re going to use your hands on him too, jerking him off into your mouth while you suck at the tip, how it’ll feel to have him gushing over your tongue.

“Johnny,” you whimper involuntarily.

“Here, angel. You try.” His hand falls away, and you watch as his cock bobs, ready for more. His hands grab for both of yours, pulling your hands up so both of them are on his cock. “Come on, just like I was just doing. This wand works best if you use both hands.”

You swear Johnny shudders when you lean in and lick at the salty bead of precum at his slit, and then he definitely shivers when you curl one hand at the base of his cock, using the other to stroke up from there, and you suck the head of his cock into your mouth, tongue flicking at the slit. His hand slides to the back of your head, and when he applies gentle pressure, sinking your mouth around him, you just take it, still stroking at what you haven’t yet taken in your mouth.

“Good girl,” Johnny praises you. “A quick learner for sure.”

You pull back against his hand on the back of your head, just enough to be able to breathe, and then you’re back on him, sucking at the tip, tongue stroking just beneath the tip, your hands covering the rest. Salty blurts of precum stain the back of your tongue, but you love the taste, love the thrill of power you feel as Johnny moans and rakes his fingers through your hair. You chance a look up at him through your eyelashes, and Johnny has his head bowed to watch you, his hair hanging loose in front of his face.

Again, you pull off, bringing your left hand up to the tip while your right keeps stroking the shaft.

“Your cock is so big, Johnny. God, is there any part of you that’s not perfect?” You dip in to lick at the slit between your fingers. “I really want to work some magic with you, using your wand to make us both achieve something absolutely, truly spectacular.”

You shift against the bed, seeking friction for yourself because your pussy is throbbing, so wet that your panties are sticking to you.

Johnny strokes your hair. “I’m so glad I ran into you out there. Keep going, angel.” And then his fingers are braiding through your hair at the back of your head, pushing your mouth back down around his length, going and going until your lips meet your fingers at the base of his cock, and you’re gagging as Johnny’s tip pushes past your limit.

His hips rock, thrusting shallowly down your throat, just enough to trigger your gag reflex again.

Your eyes water, but you’re loving every second of this, giving his cock the perfect throat to fuck, you loosen your jaw and let Johnny use your throat, let him bruise your lips as he starts moving faster, and when he pulls you off with his fingers knotted in your hair, you’ve only got a few second to gasp in raw breaths before he’s bringing your lips back to his cock.

“I love it, Johnny. More!” You beg, brushing your lips down the length of him, along the sides. You bring one hand up to stroke your fingers along the opposite side as you run your lips and tongue along his cock. You draw back to the tip, flicking your tongue to gather the beads of precum on your tongue. “So good, Johnny. Your cock is just perfect.”

You scatter kisses over the sensitive flesh, trace a prominent vein with your tongue, you take just the tip between your lips, flicking your tongue beneath the tip in a way that has Johnny bucking forward just a little but no more even though both hands are buried in your hair.

You put your all into worshipping his handsome cock, his oh-so magical wand.

You just want his cum coating your tongue.

“Stop.” Johnny drags you off of him, casting you backwards so your shoulders hit the sofa bed’s thin mattress. He towers above you, cast in tangerine light by the fire flickering in the grate. He looks all-powerful and terrifying and so incredibly sexy right then.

“Do you want me, angel? Really, really want me?” Johnny asks, lowering himself over you, holding himself above you with his fists on either side of your shoulders.

“I told you already, I want to work some spectacular magic with you and your wand.” You reach for him, for his hair. Johnny’s eyes flash when your nails drag along his scalp. “In case the metaphor isn’t clear enough consent for you, sir, I want you to fuck me.”

That’s exactly what Johnny was waiting for.

He snaps his fingers, and you gasp when you realize that there’s a startling breeze over all your bare skin. Johnny vanished your clothes, and you now lie nude beneath him, who is also now nude, having vanished his own clothes as well.

“Can I show you a magic trick, angel? I think you’ll really like this one.” Johnny kneels up above you, his cock standing out between his legs, heavy and perfect.

“Show me, please,” you beg, squirming beneath him, needing to be touched.

Johnny grins, and he parts your thighs, reaching with one hand between them. His fingers are warm and just right when he touches you, stroking over your clit to draw a whimper from you, then down to your pussy.

“Fuck, Johnny. Magical fingers as well as your cock.” Your hand flies to his wrist, feeling the flexing tendons as he fucks two fingers inside you.

“Oh, this isn’t the trick, my dear.” Johnny grinds his palm against your clit, fingers as deep as he can get them, stroking over that sweet spot inside you. It’s amazing how he keeps such an even pace considering that he’s wrapped his other hand around his cock, jerking himself off while he touches you. You know you’ve got to be leaking around his fingers, so wet for him as you watch his hand on his cock.

He keeps going, fingering you while he touches himself, and you can feel the swirling tension in your belly, the tight curl of pleasure growing and growing until finally it bursts, sparking through your body as you climax around his fingers. Johnny doesn’t stop.

“That’s right, angel. Cum for me.” His fingers curl inside you, and stars spin above you as you try to focus on Johnny’s face. “Show me that you can handle this before I give you the real magic.”

You arch off the bed, reaching the ultimate peak of your climax. Your chest heaves with each breath, and Johnny pulls his hand away from between your thighs, bringing it down to his cock.

“Ready for the big event, angel?” Johnny asks. “The main magic trick of the evening?”

You nod, biting at your bottom lip while you watch him.

“See this?” He asks, signaling to you that he means his cock. “I’m going to make it disappear, and you’re going to help me with that.”

If you weren’t so turned on, that line might have made you laugh, but as it is, you’re incredibly turned on despite that orgasm just moments ago, you’re desperate to have him inside you.

“Show me, Johnny.” You need it.

Johnny presses into you slowly, as if he’s aware that he’s huge and you’re very sensitive after that orgasm. Or, maybe he’s just really wanting to watch the way that his cock disappears as he sinks into you, your pussy greedily swallowing him.

You cry out when Johnny’s patience breaks, and he thrusts in the last bit. He’s so fucking deep, and it feels so damn good. You never could’ve imagined how this would feel, not with him; it’s truly magical. Every inch of you is tingling like he’s spelled you to be extra sensitive to his touch – his cock inside you, the knock of his legs against yours, his chest brushing your tits, the soft way his lips trace your jaw and lips, his hair tickling your cheeks – and it’s driving you insane.

You move with Johnny, twisted together, bodies connecting again and again, his cock driving into you while you moan his name and spout praises about his cock. You’re not even sure what all you’re saying, only that it’s working on Johnny, pushing him to thrust harder, causing him to laugh at one point when he drops his mouth to a sensitive spot high on your throat beneath your ear.

Johnny brings you to orgasm again on his cock, and you’re elevated above Cloud Nine, soaring high on an endless wave of pleasure while Johnny keeps rolling his hips forward, pressing into you again and again.

“Come on Johnny, you too. Cum for me,” you beg, dragging your nails over his shoulders and down his chest.

“Shit!” He hisses when your nails pass over his nipples, his cock throbbing inside you. “Almost there.”

So, you flick your fingernails over his nipples again, curious if that’ll do the trick.

Johnny pulls out, jolting up towards your face. His hand is in your hair, but you’re already moving too, lifting your head and opening your mouth to take in his cock once more.

Your left hand flies to Johnny’s shaft, your lips wrap around the head, and immediately he cums.

His semen floods across your tongue, and you swear you taste power in it as you swallow down everything he gives you. You bob your head, sucking at the tip, stroking his shaft with your hand, taking everything Johnny has to offer.

When he’s gone soft on your tongue, you pull off with a pop, sinking back down onto the sofa bed. Johnny slumps down beside you, draping an arm and a leg over you, and he’s still got one hand tangled in your hair.

“That was amazing,” Johnny sighs. “I haven’t had sex like that in a long time. Mind-blowing.”

A rush of satisfaction at the praise settles in your bones. “And to think, I was just genuinely asking you about your actual wand. But I suppose you do wandless magic?”

Johnny’s eyes are closed, but he smiles. “Yeah. I do have a wand, though, somewhere in my apartment, but my magic outgrew the wand like a decade ago. If you really want to see it, I can show you sometime.”

You twist around to lie on your side facing him. “Do you mean it?”

Johnny hums in confirmation. “Sure. When I’m back to feeling like I’m on this plane of existence, I’ll give you my number. You’ll have to come over sometime so I can fuck you in a real bed. What even is this?”

You push at his shoulder. “I should’ve known the High Warlock would be snobby about where he has sex. This is a sofa bed, Mr. Suh. I’m just staying here in my friend’s apartment temporarily while I’m between places and while he’s out of town.”

Johnny purses his lips and peeks at you. “Like I said, I’ll give you my number, and you can come sleep in a real bed with me, or else the closest you'll get to having me in this bed again will be phone sex while you’re lying in this.”

But despite all his talk of hating your sofa bed, Johnny the High Warlock of Chicago doesn’t budge from your bed that night or until late the following morning, by which point the city is shut down by the record-breaking snowfall from the late-March blizzard that blew through in the night, and oh-so-unfortunately you and Johnny are trapped together in the apartment with nothing to occupy your time but magic tricks and his magical dick.

a/n: day 3 is done although it took me longer than I thought it would, and I feel like I kinda left part of it unfinished, but who knows maybe a sequel will be in the works later!

Reblogs are deserving of my eternal gratitude, likes are greatly appreciated, and your thoughts and comments are always welcome !

#johnny suh #nct #nct 127 #johnny smut #nct smut #nct 127 smut

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yok00k · 8 months ago

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╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

sanrio!oc & boxer!jk headcannon

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

⤷ ⊹₊⋆ series masterlist ⊹₊⋆

>pics from pinterest<

—warning: some mature contents, read at your own risk—

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

ᡣ𐭩 y/n l/n, 19

ʚɞ lives in a tiny/luxurious apartment nearby the lake

ʚɞ works at a bubble tea store. you love being in a minimalistic and cute place. indeed you think you’re just a girl and your world is full of sanrio and cute stuff.

ʚɞ currently studying cosmetology. you dont know what you want to do just yet but you’re trying to figure it out. you love doing your own makeup, nails, and eyelashes. anything that makes you feel that feminine energy you’ll do it. that’s the reason why you’re pursuing something that’s related to your very own interest!

ʚɞ obsessed with hello kitty. you just has to collect at least one every week so you can function properly

ʚɞ has daddy’s issue (just like the author)

ʚɞ friendly to everyone but you have 3 real friends who you know really well. you open up to them about some details of you and jungkook’s relationship. there’s always there to give you advice or just listen to your rants

ʚɞ you’re very affectionate and genuinely loves the people in your life + sensitive: cry yourself to sleep when someone yells at you. how dare they

ʚɞ had multiple sugar daddies prior to entering a relationship with jk

ʚɞ your go-to outfits are mini skirts+black platform boots/mary janes + crop tops

ʚɞ dumb and slow as a turtle. you just never get what’s going on most of the time & that’s why guys get to take advantage of you and your dummy self won’t even realize it.

ʚɞ may look innocent but be the freakiest in the bedroom. 100% certified virgin (just for the first 6 months of her and jk’s relationship) but that doesn’t mean you can’t own multiple toys + toys that jk gifted you.

ʚɞ unintentionally and intentionally tease jk. you just likes seeing all worked up for nothing.. or something

ʚɞ sucker for creampie & cockwarming

ʚɞ listen to kali uchis, lana del rey, mitski, etc.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

ᡣ𐭩 Jeongguk Jeon, 23

ꕤ born from a wealthy family. he rebels against his parents: they wanted him to be the heir of their business, but jungkook said “fuck that imma do my own thing”

ꕤ was an underground boxer at the age of 20, but because of his skills, he became somewhat popular in mainstream boxing.

ꕤ has lots of boxing competition [i think he likes to fight]

ꕤ has anger issues. especially when he sees men taking advantage of you. boxing helps him to let out all the anger and he’s learning how to be better. [ you can fix him ]

ꕤ nonchalant but possessive? he doesn’t like to share

ꕤ lives on his own for some time now, in a huge penthouse. he gets lonely most of the time, he’s used to it though

ꕤ @ the gym 24/7. he basically lives there.

ꕤ rumor has it that he was a fuckboy? there’s no proof though.. yet. there’s been rumors around and they don’t sound nice.

ꕤ smokes + vapes [oc hates it]

ꕤ has a big dog named Bam, he’s such a good dog to you!

ꕤ always horny, he keeps the videos of you playing with yourself for his personal use

ꕤ has lots of fantasy of you, he’s infatuated then later on will be in love

ꕤ listens to partynextdoor, metro boomin, brent faiyaz, etc.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

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sugurus-fave-monkey · 10 months ago

Text

Soul Snared

I do not know exactly what possessed me to write this. It was supposed to be a little Drabble but I got carried away. This is my first time writing anything of the sort soooo. Pairing is Mahito x Reader, and I guess this could be monster fucking (I think)

TW/CW: 18+MDNI, Mahito is his own warning, Geto mentioned and appears briefly. jealousy, Non con / dubious consent, spit, tentacles, choking, slapping, restraints, orgasm denial, orgasm, fingering, the tentacles cum, breeding, belly bulge, degradation, predator/prey, oral, vaginal sex, anal sex, deep throating, lots of tongue, shape shifting, dead dove do not eat, fr though this is a lot,not proofread, made on mobile, if there’s more I should mention please let me know.

Word count >2500

NSFW under the cut

Mahito had been the one to find you. He knew not a thing about you, but Geto had said you could be beneficial to them, so he had sought you out. Geto had instructed him to tail you for a while, but Mahito lacked the patience for that, so when he cornered you in an alleyway and you paralyzed his puppets without breaking a sweat, he knew why Geto had targeted you.

Rather than him having to subdue you, you had came along willingly, babbling about how the other sorcerers pissed you off, and you were tired of them having their heads up their asses. Mahito paid attention, always trying to improve his knowledge of humans.

He had observed, how upon entering Dagon’s domain your eyes had widened at the sight of Geto, rushing over to him, practically foaming at the mouth. Geto reassuring you that he was, very much, alive. The overjoyed expression on your face when you found out that your best friend, your mentor, was still alive. And Mahito felt something stir inside him, something new. Was it anger?

For weeks, Mahito watched as the two of you left together to do recon, unsure of how to process what he was feeling. He would lounge on the beach chair, trying to focus on whatever book he was reading. He had thought that if he had captured you, he would be the one to accompany you, after all, he needed to learn more about humans. Why should Geto always be the one with you, when he was human as well? He would try to ignore the rage he felt inside of him, when you and Geto would come back, your hair a mess, Geto’s robes undone, and you giggling, while Geto’s hand rested on your shoulder seemingly guiding you.

Finally Mahito was told the two of you would be working together, with your base of operations being the sewers. That was Mahito’s element, underground, rather than the sun beating down on him heavily. He had left ahead of you, having been told that Geto needed to tell you more specifics.

You had made your way down to the sewers, squinting your eyes to adjust to the gloom, Geto had given you some sort of drink to help block the smell, and you were thankful. Your footsteps echoed off the walls as you made your way closer to where Mahito would be. You finally reached him, he was lying on a concrete slab, his arms folded under his head.

He watched as you pulled out your phone, waiting for whoever you were calling to answer.

“Yup. I found him.” A small smile curled on your lips. “Yeah yeah, I know, Geto.” You giggled, and Mahito felt the rage course through his body again. “Okay got it. See you soon.” You ended the call and went to greet Mahito, but you were unable to speak.

Mahito had launched his hand at you, fingers curling around your neck, easily pushing you against the wall. “Ghaack Mah-“ was all you could muster before his fingers squeezed tighter around your throat. Tears brimmed in your eyes, as you clawed at his hand, feeling yourself get light headed.

Mahito took his time walking toward you, with a grin plastered on his face. He allowed his grip on your neck to slacken ever so slightly, allowing you to suck air into your lungs before tightening it again. His face was mere inches away from yours, you could feel the heat from his breath on your face. His eyes were filled with malice, rage, and something you couldn’t quite pinpoint. He was a curse, he wasn’t supposed to feel emotions, at least that’s what Geto had explained, while he assured you that you would be safe with Mahito. You cursed Geto in your head, and cursed yourself for listening to his honeyed words, and meeting his every order.

Your tears had finally spilled out, wetting your cheeks as you continued to struggle against the curse. However you froze up when Mahito stuck his tongue out, licking your tears away, the appendage hot on your cold skin. You shuddered as your brain practically screamed at you to subdue him, and run. You placed your hands together, ready to use your technique, but Mahito was too fast.

Two more hands sprung from Mahito, grabbing your wrists, and pinning you against the wall.

“Nice try, but you’re too slow.” Mahito taunted you. Now that he had you pinned, he released the hold on your throat, leaving you sputtering, coughing, and gasping for air.

“What the fuck is wrong with you Mahito?” You shouted. “Aren’t we on the same side?”

At that, Mahito cackled, he fucking cackled. “What do you think I’m going to kill you?” He sneered.

“If you hurt me, Geto will crush you!” You cried out.

“Geto this, Geto that!” Mahito spat. “I’m the one who found you! I’m the one that should own you!”

Realization hit you at that moment. Mahito was jealous, but that couldn’t be right. His nature was feral, more animalistic than human. You felt your stomach drop, and suddenly recognized that other emotion, it was lust. Mahito saw you as prey, and from what Geto had told you, he enjoyed toying with his prey.

You spat in his face, it was all you could do from your position, which earned you a backhand from Mahito, who smirked at you. Your ears rang, and your face felt hot where he slapped you.

“Finally caught on huh?” Mahito’s voice was icy, full of malice. “Geto’s not here to save you, so I’d suggest you do as I say. And if not, I’ll just turn you into a puppet to do with as I please. You’ll still be aware of everything, but you won’t be able to fight. Wouldn’t want that, now would you?” He giggled and stuck his tongue out.

You shook your head, too afraid to speak, nobody had ever treated you this way before.

“Ok then! Let’s get started.” Mahito said in a sickly sweet tone, before pressing his lips against yours. You gasped, and when you opened your mouth he took advantage of that, pushing his tongue into your mouth. He took his time, exploring slowly, rubbing against your canines, daring you to bite down, but he knew you wouldn’t. He had you exactly where he wanted you, and he felt the bulge in his pants beginning to grow. He pulled away for a moment giving you a second to breathe, before he was on you again, his tongue pushing its way to your throat. His tongue was long, too long, as it filled your mouth up, poking at your uvula before slowly making its way inch by inch down your throat.

You moaned around his lips, clenching your thighs together, your body betraying you. You knew Mahito had the ability to change his shape at will, but you never expected this. You gagged around his tongue, as it pulled in and out of your throat, your wrists straining against the hands that kept you bound. Mahito pulled away,his tongue slowly pulling out of your throat, only to wedge his knee between your legs. You hissed at the sensation, the friction revealing how wet you were.

“See that’s not so bad huh?” Mahito smiled at you as he let you free from your restraints. You rubbed your wrists, trying to coax some sensation back into your hands. “Why don’t you get undressed and lie down for me?”

It wasn’t a question. You slowly undressed, your shaky hands fumbling as you unclasped your bra, and slid off your panties, and you lied down upon the concrete slab, the coldness making you hyper aware of your body. You shuddered as Mahito sprang out some vine like appendages from his back. They wrapped themselves around your wrists and ankles, spreading your legs, and pulling your arms upwards.

Mahito licked his lips before walking towards you, and taking a seat, you could feel his breath on your cunt. Mahito swiped at your entrance with his index finger, before roughly shoving it inside you, causing you to yelp and buck your hips. Mahito was anything but gentle, pumping his finger in and out of you, exploring inside of you. You moaned, putting aside any anger you had. Mahito added a second finger and began to scissor his fingers inside of you.

“F-fuck feels good.” You moan out. You feel more of those things on your body, two of them circling on your tits, before they latched onto your nipples, one was seemingly biting, the other was sucking, another one made its way to your mouth, sliding in with ease, seemingly growing bigger as it slid down your throat.

Mahito groaned, as the appendage fucked in and out of your throat, he could feel everything that was connected to him, but it wasn’t enough. He wanted to impale you on his cock, and fill you up fully. He replaced his fingers with his tongue, exploring your walls, hitting spots that were normally untouched. He sent a vine to your clit, making it suck on it, and rub circles.

It was too much, there were too many sensations, you gagged around the vine in your throat, and it slowly pulled out. “S’too much!” You cried.

Mahito withdrew his tongue from you, and the vines stood still. You could have cried, all of this, and the curse wouldn’t let you cum? You were about to protest, when you saw him unbuttoning his pants, and you widened your eyes. His cock was huge, thick, veiny, and had a row of stitches on it. There was no way that thing was fitting in you. Mahito pumped himself with his hand a couple times, before pressing against your folds, and you were right. The tip couldn’t fit inside. Mahito looked disappointed, and then shrugged, and right before your eyes, the girth of his dick shrank, allowing him to spear you on his length.

You cried out, as it stretched you, adjusting its size, growing inside of you. The vines resumed the roaming of your body, as Mahito thrusted into you slowly, feeling how your muscles clenched around him. He pressed down on your lower stomach, feeling himself. Your muffled moans grew louder, and he increased his speed, fucking into you roughly.

“Such a good girl, taking it all.” Mahito sneered. He felt your body tense up at his words. “Aw are you gonna cum for me? Huh? What a pathetic human, letting a curse fuck her. Go on then. Cum.”

Mahito’s degradation forced you to come undone, your eyes rolling into the back of your head, as your muscles tensed, your hips bucking wildly as you climaxed, squirting on the curse’s abdomen. Mahito pulled the vine out of your throat, allowing you to breathe fully.

“Fuck, you’re so filthy, squirting all over me. ‘M gonna fill you up, stuff you full.” Mahito groaned as his own release came closer. His balls clenched, as his cum sprayed inside you, ropes and ropes being churned from inside of him.

You allowed yourself to relax a moment, thinking it was over, that he had his fun with you, until you felt something wet against your asshole.

“N-no not there!” You squeaked out.

Mahito tsked at you, before flipping you over, onto your hands and knees, his vines locking you into position. His thrust his cock into your cunt again, and used his tentacle to slowly pry open your ass, your muscles clenching, trying to stop the intrusion. Mahito brought his hand down swiftly upon your ass, causing you to jump. “Just relax. It won’t hurt.”

What little resistance, defiance you had once possessed no longer existed. You couldn’t form coherent thoughts any more. You relaxed, and Mahito was right, the vine was warm, and coated in something slick, a moan coming from your lips, as every single part of you was stuffed full. Mahito wrapped vines around your waist, and used them to stabilize you, allowing you to collapse and be held in the air as Mahito bullied his cock and vines into you. When he would thrust in the vine would pull out. And he could expand, contract and lengthen them at will. Tears were spilling from your eyes, and drool was dripping from your mouth, forming a puddle on the slab under you.

“I told you it wouldn’t hurt. You like it huh? Being stuffed full, your body being mine to treat as I please.” Mahito taunted as he watched all your holes swallowing him up, his dick fucking his cum into you, hopefully pushing it into your womb. He quickened the pace of the vine in your mouth, pushing it deeper and deeper into your throat, before it finally released in you. As it pulled out you coughed up some of the cum it expelled into your throat.

The vine attached to your clit was pulled off, being replaced with Mahito’s thumb, roughly circling, applying just the right amount of pressure. “M-Mahito d-don’t stop.” You moaned weakly.

“Again? Alright, you can cum, but only if you tell me who you belong to.” Mahito smirked.

“Y-you! I belong to you Mahito, you own me!” You cried out, as your second release snapped, causing you to shudder, and twitch, your body relaxing completely. And as you came so did the vine fucking into your ass, filling your tight hole with cum, leaving its mark inside of you.

“Th-that’s right. Nngh f-fuck. M’ gonna breed you, give you all my cum., fill you up. You want that?” Mahito’s voice trembled, pleasure coursing through his body.

“Y-yes fuck, fill me up, please. Please breed me Mahito.” You were no longer thinking, words were just coming out of your mouth at this point.

“That’s it fuck, take it all, let me fill your womb up.” Mahito hissed as he planted his seed inside of you for a second time, and you could have sworn you felt a bulge in your belly as he fucked his cum further inside of you. You were exhausted, absolutely spent. Mahito slowly lowered you down, retracting the vines back into his body, before pulling out of you. And you slowly drifted into a deep slumber.

You awoke to the sound of hushed voices and kept your eyes closed. Your body had been covered in a blanket, and you were thankful for that.

“So you’ve found another finger?” You heard Mahito ask.

“Yes. I trust that you can carry out the plan?” That was Geto’s voice. You assumed he came to make sure you were okay.

The small talk continued, growing louder, footsteps approaching, until the two of them were standing above you.

“What’s this?” Geto asks. “Have you already started our little experiment?” Your eyes flutter open.

“Experiment?!” You move to sit up, however, vines bind you to where you’re laying.

Geto simply chuckles before he brushes his fingers over your face. “Of course. Seeing if a sorcerer can have a viable pregnancy with a curse.” He turns to Mahito. “Let me know if anything changes.”

And that’s when you notice for the first time, the stitches in his head, and you realize, whatever that is, is not Suguru Geto.

#jjk smut #jjk mahito #mahito smut #mahito #tentacles #jjk x reader smut #mahito x reader

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