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sexlapis · 7 months

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[◉°] … Y/N & TOJI BEING A COUPLE FOR 10 MINUTES STRAIGHT… 537k views

⌦ 🎬 ⁺　　　.　　　　❀

꩜ actor! toji x actress! reader

⤷ synopsis : you & toji deny the dating rumours, but you’re both being a little bit too comfortable with each other for your relationship to be just “platonic”.

sfw, fluff, toji is a little ooc <3

. art credits to deltapork on twitter

.. inspired by this post

… part 2, part 3, part 4

masterlists

actor!toji masterlist

꩜ first clip

you & toji are in an interview, one to promote the upcoming release of the action movie you both star in where you’re the main love interest. it is bound to be a huge success, judging by the interest and how everyone loves the chemistry you and toji have both in and out of film!

the interviewer asks you a question and while you’re responding you can feel someone staring at you. you turn to your left where toji is sitting, and he has his eyes dead set on you, not looking away for one second. you turn your focus back to the interviewer to continue answering, but you can’t help but turn back and see that he is still staring at you with his intense blue eyes. you repeat this a few times before cutting off your own sentence with a giggle and covering your face with your hands.

toji chuckles in confusion, looking at the interviewer and then back at you, bewildered. “what-whats so funny?”

you look at toji with your hands still covering your face. “toji, i can’t concentrate when you look at me like that!”

toji tilts his head, swiftly shifting his chair in your direction and leans closer to you, practically nose to nose at this point. “like what?”

“like that!” you laugh, covering your hot face once more as he and the interviewer laugh at your actions.

the interviewer chimes in. “i do have to say, your eyes can be quite intimidating..”

“see?!” you say to toji and then look to the interviewer. “thank you.”

toji huffs and just looks at you. and you look back at him with a small grin on your face.

you speak. “as i was saying…”

you repeat your response to the question and toji exaggeratedly stares at you and you attempt to ignore it (and fail).

꩜ second clip

this was a behind the scenes clip, where your cast member is speaking about his characters relationship with the other main characters but sadly for him, that is not where the viewers’ attention was.

in the background, they see toji sitting on a couch looking at his phone and then you walking into frame. toji looks up from his phone, and if you look very closely, he can be seen smiling at you. you walk over and plop down on the couch right next to him. you both talk to each other for a few moments, faces close together and then you lay your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes and taking what appears to be a nap. toji, moving as slowly as he can, takes a blanket that is already on the couch and drapes of over you. you snuggle closer to him, prompting toji to rest his head on top of yours. he does just that.

꩜ third clip

during an interview with you and the cast members, including toji, in front of a live audience, you somehow found yourselves on the topic of the types of cars you all have. you then remember how toji had told you about a motorcycle he owned, but you forgot which kind.

“i think i wanna ride on toji’s..motorcycle! i think-”

you hear the audience laugh and hear a few wolf whistles and you turn to your fellow actors, who are also laughing, especially gojo. you seem confused, but then you think back to what you said a second ago and feel your face heat up in embarrassment.

“oh, no no nonono-” shaking your head vehemently, “that is not-”

“toji’s motorcycle eh?” gojo teases while raising his eyebrows and wiggling his fingers, which only encourages the mockery and your desire to punch him.

you cover your face with your hand and sigh. “oh my god.”

while everybody in the room makes fun of you, you look to the left to see toji’s reaction and the camera pans to his smug smirking face.

“i mean i’m free friday night so..” he trails off, winks at you and the audience goes crazy and you shove your face in your hands.

“forget i even said anything!”

꩜ fourth clip

you and toji were recording a little vlog like video for the fans, talking about what it was like on set when you get onto the subject of what working with the other cast members is like.

“yeah gojo’s is pain in the ass.” toji states and shakes his head, fondly almost. “never stops running that big mouth ‘a his.”

spits of laughter fall from your mouth at his frankness. “uhh..yeah that’s true, gojo if you see this don’t be offended!”

“yeah we still like you we just..wish you’d shut the fuck up more often.”

“toji!” you gasp and slap his chest, “you’re no spring chicken either you know.”

toji scoffs and looks at you with a raised brow. “yeah, you’re a handful yourself.”

“what? no i’m not!” toji tilts his head and blinks. “everyone says i’m great to work with. you’re such a liar.” you roll your eyes with a laugh.

toji chuckles and moves closer to you on the sofa, and leans towards your face. “no ‘s alright. i have big hands.” he places a kiss on your cheek.

“ew, you’re so corny!” you lean away and wipe away his kiss, trying not to smile and look flustered.

꩜ fifth clip

this was a big day for y/n x toji lovers, when a movie you were both in won an award. now, neither of you were the main characters, but the fans made sure to make you both the most popular ones.

while the director is accepting the award, fans zoomed in on you and toji standing near the back of the group of cast members, where you’re tearing up and trying not to cry. you’re wiping your tears and toji looks at you and does a double take when he realises that you’re crying. he looks down at you and hugs you from the side, which makes you lay your head on his chest and wrap an arm around his waist. toji accepts this invitation and full on hugs you, kissing the top of your head softly and rubbing your back.

꩜ sixth clip

toji posts workout videos on his instagram stories. they’re mostly of him lifting weights and they’re rare, so fans cherish them.

and then theres a short video of you laying on top of toji’s back while he does pushups like it’s nothing. you’re smiling, spreading your arms out like you’re flying. toji suddenly starts going fast as fuck, making you bounce and almost fall off. you gasp and start hitting the back of his head while the person recording starts to laugh (most likely gojo).

you fall off toji’s back and lay on the floor like a starfish. the camera pans to a proud looking toji before you kick his face.

a/n: thank u for reading ^_-

#pls lemme know if you liked i feel like i could’ve done a little better <3 #actress!reader #actor!toji #toji x reader #toji x you #toji x y/n #toji x self insert #toji fluff #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro x y/n #toji fushiguro x self insert #toji fushiguro fluff #toji fic #toji fanfic #fushiguro toji x reader #fushiguro toji x you #fushiguro toji fluff #fushiguro toji x y/n

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cupcakeinat0r · 2 months

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Thinkin' abt DadBod!Miguel at the gym <3

You'd been going to the gym routinely, or at least trying to. You decided to go after working up the courage and convincing yourself that this was just for fun. That your body was your temple, and you were tending to it, no matter how it looked <3

The first week wasn't so bad. After embarrassingly tripping on equipment or accidentally dropping weights here and there, it was alright! Though at times, it was still difficult to stay consistent, until one day, you saw him.

Over on the other side of the gym, curling some dumbbells (100s, mind you), was a total 6-foot, thick, hairy dream of a man. You first noticed his chiseled face adorned by fine lines, locks of black hair framing it. With each draw of the weights, his biceps bulged. Beads of sweat trickled down his bulky chest and wide shoulders. When your eyes wander downward, you're surprised to not find washboard abs.

Oh no, what you find instead excites you even more than any pack of abs could offer you.

Your mouth waters slightly to find that his tank top has ridden up slightly over his hefty belly, graciously allowing a peek at a happy trail, its path sadly blocked by some basketball shorts (his cute bubble butt and giant dick print made up for it tho).

Despite his low, breathy grunts and intense crimson gaze towards his own reflection, he was making it look easy. You thought about how easy it'd probably be for him to carry you bride-style and throw you onto a bed before spreading your legs with those enormous hands so he could feast until your eyes crossed. Or how it'd be effortless for him to hold you tightly with your legs wrapped around that stocky midsection of his while he bullied his-

"'scuse me, you waiting for this bench?" a deep voice snaps you out of a daydream. You see the man is now looking at you with what looks like a knowing smirk. Fuck, he noticed you staring.

"Oh! N-no, was just looking for the 10s!" You blurt, evoking a velvety chuckle and dashing smile from him.

"Right over there." He motions with his chin toward the weight rack where the 10s are obviously displayed. After you thanked him, He smiled and nodded back to you, turning back toward the mirror to do his last set.

The second week felt like no problem. Instead of dragging yourself to the gym, you looked forward to it, scanning for your new gym crush every time you entered.

You'd feel a lil surge of happiness when you do find him there, feeling brave enough to exchange smiles and sometimes even little waves from across the gym. One time, the older man made you swoon when he winked at you upon entering the gym. After seeing your cute reaction, this would be how he greeted you every time.

The third week came You're at the squat rack, feeling stronger than usual, so you opt to go the heaviest you've ever gone. Big mistake. By the third rep, you fail to get back up, panicking and legs shaking. Just when you feel yourself start to fall, you see a pair of hands dart toward the bar from behind you, lifting it with ease and allowing you to stand back up. The bar is re-racked and you turn to find gym bae.

"You okay?" he gently prompts, a worried look on his face.

"Yes, thank you... think I might've gone too heavy." you nervously chuckle. He does as well, seeing that you're alright.

"Next time you go for a PR, you need to ask for a spotter, hun." He gives you that dashing smile again, his hands on his love handles.

"Yeah, I probably should've," you lower your head in defeat, "I didn't bring anyone with me though."

"You could've asked me," He says matter of factly as if it should've been obvious that he should be the one to spot you. "I would've done it with no problem, mama." His pet names make your womanhood pulse.

You look back up at him, your lips curled into a shy smile.

"C'mon, let's try again." "No, no, mama, I got that, I'll put it away for you." "Keep your knees like this-theeeere you go. "Gimme one more, mama, just one more, you can do it." "Atta girl! Good job, mamita."

You learned that his name is Miguel. He'd become your designated spotter on leg days, the sensation of his larger frame against yours making you nervous in the best way.

Your favorite is when his tummy accidentally brushes against your back, and borderline, your ass, and if not his tummy, it'd be his prominent bulge (which isn't there bc he gets to spot the adorable girl with an amazing ass from the gym... totally not that).

On the Fourth week, Miguel would ask you if you wanted to be workout buddies altogether. Of course, you accept, in which he asks for your number so like that, he can text you when he's going and vice versa.

It's the fifth week, and you both have worked out together a couple times already. Miguel texted you in the morning asking if you'd like to join him, which you were totally down for.

You two started with lateral pull-downs. Once it was your turn, you sat on the machine and reached for the handle, pulling it as you began your set.

Anytime you felt like you wanted advice or correction, Miguel eagerly helped you.

His hands would stay on your waist, his warm breath tickling your ear. "Mhm, there you go, you're doin' so good, mama." He praises in almost a whisper.

If only he knew he was making the exercise only harder. As if that weren't enough, his finger would occasionally message your hip. Your bodies were so close that you were able to hear each satisfied hum from his lips, suggesting you were doing the exercise right.

"Good girl, that was better. You feel it now?" He says, letting go to let you off the machine.

"Yeah, thank you! When it comes to upper body, I'll need all the help I can get. I'm just glad I’m getting it from an upper-body master." You flirtatiously add, playfully poking at one of his biceps.

This makes him blush, but only for a moment before he returns with a cocky response, "Thanks, hun. I'm glad to be working out with a leg-day goddess."

Now it was your turn to blush, except you didn't have any smart comeback, boosting Miguel's ego.

"Listen, let me treat you to smoothie after this, yeah?" He says it more like a statement than a request, and you happily oblige.

What you were expecting was a simple, cheap smoothie from a spot you usually go to, but instead, you're met with a drive-thru menu listing shakes from $20 and up. Oh he got moneyyyy.

Miguel tells you to pick any that looks good to you. He orders for himself and you as well, parking the car once the two of you get the smoothies.

As he sips from the cup, you take the opportunity to subtly glance at his figure, his muscles, how his pecs sit beautifully on top of his soft belly, his thighs constrained by the confines of his gym shorts. You think how badly you wanna sit there, grinding on the print 'til there was a wet spot-

"Something on your mind, mama?" You look back at him, taking a few seconds to register his words.

You hastily look back down at your drink and shake your head, “Nothing… thank you so much for this, it’s delicious!”

then he grabs the shoulder of your chair to lean toward you, “Of course, mama, but I don’t think you’re being completely truthful with me, hm?”

You look at him, playfully shaking your head again, knowing full well you’ve been caught.

“What’s in that pretty lil head of yours, hm? dime.” He puts the smoothie into the cup holder to free his other hand, placing it on your thigh, and softly squeezes it. “Just say the word, and you’ll get anything you want.”

Your lips curl slyly as you think of a response.

“Well… we never did cardio.”

Now you were here in his car, being bounced on his fat dick on the passenger seat, holding onto his his big shoulders for dear life. You were basically his fleshlight at this point… with those big hands.

You could feel his body now taut against yours, your tits bouncing relentlessly, his muscled, thick thighs below your ass, his balls slapping against your pussy lips, his bush tickling your clit, his pelvis pushing your ass up and his curved belly against your front side. It all was sending you into euphoria.

With you vigorously bouncing on his cock and his beautiful moaning, you fully let go. “Aw yes, Daddy,“ you mumbled without thinking.

In fact, you couldn’t think at all. All you knew was this fat cock and your pussy was memorizing all its veins and curves.

“Mmfuck baby, yea, say that again f’me”, he groaned through gritted teeth as he mercilessly bounced you down his painfully hard shaft.

“Please, Daddy, please!” You whined with your hands desperately seeking support on his big shoulders.

You can feel the sheet of sweat on his belly and on his thighs, which turned the smacking of your ass sound even more lewd.

“Fuck, say it again.” He growled, getting faster now.

“Mmmm, Daddy— Daddy, pleaseeee.”

“Louder, baby, c’mon—“

“UNGH DADDYYYY”

“Oh FUCK… you wanted cardio, baby, I’ll give you cardio… fuckin’ take it… coño.” Your panting became synchronized with every pound of his cock into your abused and bruised cunt, getting higher and higher in pitch, firing him up to go faster and harder.

“Gonna cum on this fat cock, right? Gonna cum f’me, mami?” He ordered, dropping octaves from his usual gentle tone with you.

“Mmmnn, Nnyesyyesyesyes—“ you babbled, the shakiness of your voice the result of the aggressive bouncing.

“Ah… carajo…” his cock accidentally slips out from your cunt, making you wince from the sudden empty sensation, “ungh!”

Holding up your ass, he takes a moment to admire the view, hissing from the sight of his angrily red cock and veins pulsing from your cunt sucking him in so deliciously. A ring of your cream erotically placed at the base of his length, just above his perfect bush. He guides his fat tip back to your dripping cunt using his thumb, pushing it back into your swollen folds.

He was back to ramming into your abused cunt in no time, chasing each others high’s.

“C’mon…fuck, c’mon, mama, you’re almost there…. Aw f-fuck… almost there…” he moans with his brows knitted and through a clenched jaw.

“Daddy I’m g’na— I’m cummingimcummingimcumming—“

“Aw, fuck, asi— asi mami— ah, ah…” Miguel holds back choked whines as he get closer, not allowing himself to let go until he knew you came first.

You speak in gibberish before crying into your climax, Miguel letting out a long, exasperated groan when he reaches his. You can feel his hot cum overfilling you, making you whine as it leaks down your thigh.

After draining himself completely, making sure every drop was in you, he gently pulls out, “Fuck… you did so good for me, mama… so good.”

Miguel lets you rest against his heaving chest and soft belly, rubbing your back as you caught your breath. You smiled a tired smile when you notice how hard Miguel is breathing as well, knowing you worked him out, too.

“You ok, mamita?” He plants a tender kiss on your shoulder, making a trail up your neck and finally to your forehead.

“Mhm,” you hum, you look up at him and are met with his plump, wet lips, tongues becoming entangled with each other as he groans into your mouth.

“I say… we do cardio like this every day.”

A/n: Haiii, I hope u liked it <3 Love my man sm <3 None of my gym baes could ever compare to himmmmm😭😭😭

@angel-of-the-moons Ty Ty Ty my luv for planting the seed in my head <3

Want more DadBod!Miguel ? Here’s my master list, bae!!

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tenpintsof-sundrop · 2 months

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Hii !! From the smut prompts (stop rolling your eyes, I know Im predicatable!) could I request "Accidentally Sending Nudes", "Sexting" and... a secret third thing (the choice is yours, go hogwild) for Jason x Fat Fem Reader? I'm leaning more towards sub!reader but shes def a little shit about it :3

Thank you in advance if you write it !! 🌼

See, this is why it pays to send in a request with me, because even if I don't answer it right away, I keep requests in my inbox for months and come back to them later!!! (This is from December 2023)

(Also this request is just plain fun) (because Star knows exactly what buttons to push to get me lmao)

DC Titans Requests - OPEN

How would Jason react to you accidentally sending him a nude?

(Jason Todd x Fem!Thick!Reader)

Warnings: set specifically in the Titans!verse - set during season 3/mentions of season 3 plot points; spoilers for major plot points of Titans (including character deaths on the show); this is kind of enemies to lovers? (enemies to fwb, I guess); the reader uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina; the reader is described as being fat/plus sized; passing mentions of Gar x reader (I couldn't help myself); dubious consent - because of the nature of the trope, Jason sees the reader naked without her explicit consent, and he decides to keep the picture without her consent - but it does spark a consensual sexual relationship between them; passing mention of using nudes for blackmail (that does not happen); this isn't really proofread; (generally, I consider this post to be a fucking mess because it was written in Tumblr but I was still trying to have fun with it lmao.)

...

Jason is minding his own business when it happens.

(For once in life, he is fully, completely, minding his own business.)

He's back in Gotham and he hasn't seen you in months - and if asked, he would say that he hasn't thought about you. He doesn't have time to think about you because he's been too busy with this therapy bullshit, training, trying to get back his title of Robin. Trying to get back in the cape. (And trying to get back in Bruce's good graces.)

But that's not exactly true. He's thought about you a lot.

(Most of those times have been with his hand around his cock, but again - he won't admit that.)

There is an occasional time that you cross his mind and it's because he's wondering genuinely how you're doing - wondering if you're well, how your training is going, wondering if you're doing okay under the Dickhead's reign. But he can't ever pluck up the courage to text you and simply ask. Because that would be admitting that he cares, and that would make him look like a weak little prick.

And that's why he's so damn surprised when you text him first.

He hasn't heard from you since he left the Tower (well, since he stormed away from Donna's funeral in what you called a 'toddler fit' - something that ended in a rather vicious text argument between the two of you). In fact, the last thing in the text history between the two of you is you calling him a 'giant, petty, whiny baby who can't deal with his own emotions'.

(You had no clue what had happened between him and Rose, so that did inform a lot of your opinion on the matter.) (And that was probably the reason why Rose still had all of her teeth after you had seen her at the funeral.)

But all of that was aside from the point.

The point being - Jason found himself smiling when your contact name popped up on his phone.

He has you in his phone as 'Pretty Girl' - along with a contact picture of you sticking your tongue out at him in response to having his phone shoved in your face with the knowledge that he was taking a picture of you. (That tongue always makes him think certain things, so even though you intended for it to be some rude thing to ruin the picture, it makes it so much better for him.)

(1) new photo

That instantly catches Jason's attention.

Perhaps you were sending him a picture just to flip him off, or sending him a picture of a dumpster to ask him if it reminded him of home - a common joke you used to make when he still lived at the Tower.

Jason grabbed his phone and opened the message, expecting another tired joke, and-

Holy fuck.

The last thing he was expecting - your naked body. Your gorgeous naked body.

(He likely would have expected a nuclear blast or for the Joker to clean up his act and actually become a decent, sane citizen before he expected this to happen.)

Jason brought his phone closer to his face, making the picture full screen in order to examine it better - he needed to make sure that he wasn't hallucinating, or that this wasn't some weird dream. But fuck, he definitely wouldn't be able to dream up this.

You were so perfect - so fucking perfect in a way that was so very real.

The picture was a fucking stunning side profile of your body - rolling curves, lacy underwear that could clearly barely contain your impressive hips with sweet little stretch marks jutting out from the fabric (jagged little marks across the softness of your skin that made Jason want to act up) - soft fat for him to grab onto, and the perfect teardrop shape of your breast, now bared to his eye in a way that he had only dreamt of before. Something that he had stared at through the oversized tee shirts you wore to bed without a bra, just wondering what you looked like underneath.

And fuck, this was so much better than anything he could have dreamt up.

Jason's cock began to harden almost instantly, and laying in bed, he reached over to his nightstand for some lube, ready to milk that picture for all it was worth, when-

His phone buzzed again.

Pretty Girl: 'Delete that.'

Jason hadn't even considered that you had sent it to him by mistake. He had been far too busy enjoying to even consider the intention or the psychology behind it.

So, he took his hand off the waistband of his sweats and texted back the first thing that came to mind.

'No.'

(He didn't hear your annoyed growl on the other end, frustrated at his downright typical Jason behaviour.)

'It's not my fault you made a dumbass mistake. Besides, it's the least I get after all the nagging from you.'

Then, something else came to mind as the bubbles popped up, meaning you were busy formulating a reply - an annoyed one, no doubt.

'Who did you mean to send it to anyway? Who are you fucking whose name starts with J that's not me?'

(You hesitated.)

Pretty Girl: 'I didn't type in J.'

'???'

Pretty Girl: 'I typed in G. And it turns out the first contact that popped up was Giant Baby. That's you.'

Jason felt annoyed and insulted on all levels. The fact that you were going to Tiger Boy for dick instead of him, and the fact that you had used such a mocking contact name for him. But when he realised that such a pathetic string of events had caused him to accidentally see you naked, he couldn't be too upset.

'I'm still keeping the picture 😈'

Pretty Girl: 'You're such an asshole' Pretty Girl: ... Pretty Girl: 'You owe me one'

'Fine, I'll owe you one'

Jason shrugged it off, thinking he had won, until -

Pretty Girl: 'No, you owe me a cock.'

This made Jason's stomach jump. You couldn't possibly mean-?

Pretty Girl: ... Pretty Girl: 'You owe me a picture of your dick. You know - an eye for an eye type stuff.'

Jason wanted to ask questions - what did you plan to do with the picture? Should he shave his balls first? Did you want more than one?

But his cock got even harder at you asking for a picture, at you demanding to see his cock, and he couldn't properly think - he couldn't even reason that you might later blackmail him with the picture.

No, instead, he found himself ripping down his pants and turning on the bedside lamp for good lighting, pumping himself up to peak rigid hardness and grasping the base of his cock in hand. And then, without hesitation, he snapped a picture for you. He made sure to get his abs in the photo - a collection of his best assets, with his pants pulled down to mid-thigh, showing off his tight stomach, the deep V leading down to his dick, and his thick seven inch cock in hand surrounded by some well-kept dark pubic hair.

(He was proud of it - and that ego was one of the things that annoyed you most about him.)

He sent it without hesitation and then you began typing several times and stopped once again. Jason's stomach churned with nerves until -

Pretty Girl: 'Fuck you' Pretty Girl: 'I thought it would be smaller'

Jason had no clue how to respond to that, and he was busy racking his brain for some clever reply, when -

Oh. Oh fuck.

(1) new photo

You had sent him another picture. And this time it was definitely on purpose.

It was a view between the plump, beautiful thickness of your thighs - your hand was inside the pretty lace of those panties, and your fingers were visible working on your clit while your needy hole dripped wetness onto the fabric.

So you had liked what you had seen.

Pretty Girl: 'What would you do if you were here right now?'

Jason's brain short-circuited then. He thought of so many things - eating your pussy until you screamed, flipping you onto your stomach and fucking you until you begged him to stop, gripping onto those gorgeous thighs, pinning them to your chest and pounding into your cunt until you finally surrendered and said that you had liked him all along, fucking your smart little mouth to finally shut you up-

Pretty Girl: 'Come on, Jay. Don't disappoint me.'

Oh, he won't.

(Another thing Jason won't admit - he came back to the Tower just for you.)

...

DC Titans Masterlist

#star-mum #my lovely moots #requests #requested #sundrop writes #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x plus sized reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd smut #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood x y/n #dc titans #titans #dc titans fanfiction #titans fanfiction #titans x reader

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bobluvbot · 1 month

Text

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?”

765 notes · View notes

blkkizzat · 7 months

Text

ღ𝐖𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐟!𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢 ღ

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏 𝐨𝐟 𝟐

18+ONLY MDNI

kizzatober series: Thrilling Ghouls

Kinktober Prompts: Breeding, Dacryphilia, Aphrodisiac Synopsis: Catching him in a lie, you suspect your boyfriend Toji is cheating on you. Where does he keep disappearing to once a month that keeps him away for often days at a time. You're fed up. You've made up your mind this time to follow him but are you ready for what you discover? CW: AU. Most warnings for P2 really. Slightly dubcon-y. Bully/mean/teasing Toji. Bratty/crazy gf reader. Rough sex. Drug ref. Werewolf transformation but this isn't that furry shit lol. Omegaverse themes I borrow heavily from but I'm not following the rules of it faithfully (I don't even know them myself lol) WC: 4k of 10.4k Lightly black fem coded but no descriptors.

A/N: This one took a bit longer expected as I recently caught a cold, boooo! But I'm realizing even in my fics I intend to be PWPs I still need to set the mood and a plot springs forth lmfao. Plus I had fun actually trying to write a bit of horror in too! I decided to split into 2 parts because of the delay already.

Big shout out to an irl bestie @sairotonin for drawing a sketch of Werewolf!Toji for her inktober for me to use in my gfx. TY sis you a real one!!

Enjoy!

“In the next 500ft, turn left.”

This was going to be the third goddamn left the car navigation told you to take in the last 20 minutes. You were ninety-nine percent sure you had been going in circles and were now lost as shit at night in the middle of nowhere.

You glance at your phone sitting in the dash-caddy.

One measly bar.

The further you traveled, the more the service bars were dwindling as well.

Shit, you had 3 full bars last time you looked.

Opting to keep ahead straight instead of turning, you cross-check your destination via the spy monitoring app you had shamelessly downloaded on your boyfriend Toji’s phone.

Toji’s current location was 45 miles outside of the city and it had been a good 10 miles since you last saw any kind of highway. The area you were in was a mix between nature reserve and private property so not even GPS could pin down the exact directions to his whereabouts.

Sigh.

You had never wanted to be That Girl™.

You know, the ones who would sneak peaks at their boyfriend’s phones, were super insecure about any interaction their man had with the opposite sex and ran down on them while they were out to catch them in the act of cheating.

But you were a woman at the end of her rope.

What else could you do?

For a few days every month Toji would simply disappear.

The various excuses he gave usually centered around his work. You didn’t know exactly what he did, but you knew enough to know most of it was dangerous and wasn’t what good society would consider legal.

Toji had scolded you before for asking too many details.

For your own safety.

He would say with an arrogant smirk.

But even when working you had always been able to get a hold of him after a few hours. It was just this one particular job he would completely drop off the face of the earth for. It annoyed you, sure, but Toij’s work never followed him home so you didn't have complaints.

That is, until you had finally moved-in with him and Megumi.

Truly, you were already like a little family.

Megumi, who had just recently started preschool, had been quick to warm up to you ever since you and Toji first introduced you to him a few months prior to that.

But living together pushed things to a whole other level. Megumi would follow you around like a lost pup and often opted to sit in your lap rather than Toji’s.

Not to mention throw a near fit if you weren’t the one to tuck him in goodnight. (Toji would never admit he was a bit jealous and would only grumble slightly that it was less of a hassle for him if you did it so you should just do it from now on).

You never even realized you had such a mothering instinct, being on the same page as Toji about no more kids, until you looked into those little emerald eyes of Gumi’s and absolutely melted.

You had grown so close that the little boy unknowingly let it slip once while Toji was MIA on that job, that he was glad Daddy went on his daddy breaks once a month so you both could have fun together by yourselves.

You tried to keep your reactions in check for Megumi but that revelation completely shook you.

A “daddy break” didn’t sound much like a work trip to you which spiked your anxiety and caused you to spiral into overthinking.

Did he need a break from you too as well?

You couldn't very well grill a 4-year old and you didn’t have the nerve to just ask Toji straight out.

So you did the only thing you could think of at the time and that was to complain to your good friend Tsukumo over drinks a few days later after Toji returned.

Tsukumo, who always seemed to have the wrong answer for everything, simply told you to do the ‘smart’ thing and download a monitoring app on his phone that would log is calls, texts and whereabouts.

You initially balked at her.

Tracking Toji had never crossed your mind.

Outside of this, Toji had never given you a reason to doubt him and you wanted to respect his privacy and trust, especially trust as you knew he didn’t let many people get close to him at all.

True, he wasn’t exactly the most forthcoming man you ever dated. You were well aware he had his many skeletons as well as ex-hookups. But Toji for the most part had been content with his gambling then coming home to you and Megumi.

He wasn’t the type to ‘run the streets with the boys (he had no boys tbh), you had only ever known him to have the occasional drink with Shiu when he wasn’t out gambling.

You had almost refused to do such a thing… That is until Tsukumo posed the question:

What’s more important Y/N– your peace of mind or his trust?

And Y/N, is trust really what’s important here at all if he is in fact already taking advantage of yours?

Touché.

Tsukumo had you there.

“Besides, you think that old dinosaur is even going to notice an extra app on his phone in the first place?”

Tsukumo quipped, throwing back a shot of sake and jiggling the empty container at the bartender for more.

“You just got rid of his old flip phone last year. I’m surprised he can even use a touchscreen without punching a hole through it. Just delete the app once you’ve seen what you needed to see.”

Tsukumo gave you this advice like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Ignoring her digs at Toji’s age, and maybe it was the 3 bottles of sake the both of you had blown through in the last hour, but you were starting to think she might be onto something.

“Mmm, on second thought, might as well keep it on there. Men like Fushiguro are dogs that need to be kept on tight leashes.”

Tsukumo grinned at you with a wink before turning her attention back to the bartender.

You still didn’t know then if you would actually go through with it.

Nevertheless, here you are now at 11:15 PM at night about to pull up on your boyfriend thanks to Tsukumo’s advice to find out once and for all if Toji was cheating on you.

You had dropped Megumi off at his best friend Yuji’s for the night, thanking Yuji’s parents for watching him and feeling guilty for lying to them that you and Toji had a date night.

Almost there.

You are within 2 miles of arriving at the vicinity of where the monitoring app says Toji is.

However, your anxieties were getting the best of you as you drove in near tears.

You turn up your music louder, the booming bass distracting you from how much darker and creepier it gets the further you drive into the wooded area.

Sighing again, you had no idea how this would turn out but you knew the result would determine whether you would be listening to Positions by Ariana Grande or Playing Games by Summer Walker on repeat during the drive back.

☠

Barely a half mile later, you see the engine light of your car flash. The pungent odor of burning oil fills the car as a plume of smoke escapes out from under the hood.

Goddamn it, Toji.

“Y/N, make sure to go get ‘er an oil change while I’m gone. Ya got like 15 good miles left on ‘er.” Toji’s voice rang in your mind.

Well the big lunk he was wrong.

You had driven at least 33 miles so far.

You mentally cussed him again.

Toji was the one who was supposed to change your oil, he used your car more than you did. Only opting to use his own blacked out unplated and unlicensed car for jobs like he was on now.

You wouldn’t have even left the house if it wasn’t for his sketchy cheating headass.

Okay, so you hadn’t exactly confirmed that just yet, but you were pissed and until you confirmed otherwise, right now he was a cheater and everything about this situation was his fault.

Pulling over to the side of the dirt road before you caused further damage to your car, you weighed your options.

Option 1: Call AAA

You had zero bars though.

Fuck.

Option 2: Wait here in the safety of the car until morning.

You would still have zero bars and you might miss Toji, making this whole trip fruitless.

If he beat you home in the morning and found you gone with Megumi at Yuji’s with the sad excuse for a 'date night' lie you gave, you would never hear the end of it.

He would taunt you into oblivion that your silly ass drove all the way up here unto the woods for your car to break down cause you were too busy being a psycho bitch to remember to get an oil change.

Option 3: Walk on foot the rest of the way to Toji.

Really the only viable option you had.

It was a good 12 miles or so back to the highway, you didn’t know how many turns you had made since then and you doubt you could make it back on foot anyway. If you were going to walk a few miles to get service again you might as well walk to where Toji was.

Sure if he wasn’t cheating you would still get ridiculed, but at least you could get a ride home.

And if he was cheating, you would hot wire his car (one of the few useful things he did teach you) and that motherfucker and his whore could find their own way home.

Resolving yourself to walk, you put on Toji's hoodie that fortunately was still in the backseat from him last using your car to go to the gym.

You really should have put more thought into planning this before you left. Besides Toji’s oversized worn hoodie that reached your mid-thighs all you were wearing was a thin white shirt and black spandex shorts.

You didn’t even have sneakers or boots, as you looked down at your fuzzy black slippers you mostly only wore outside to run short errands like dropping off Megumi at preschool or picking up groceries.

Thankfully, you did have a small flashlight in the glove compartment though in case of emergencies like this.

Flashlight in tow, you step outside of your stalled car and immediately suck in a worried breath as the weight of the chilly night settles over you like a heavy cloak.

You only have a mile and a half trek but the dirt road that stretches out before you looks endless as it disappears into the obscurity of the thick shroud of fog surrounding you.

The flashlight doesn’t do much to cut through the intense density of condensation. You had only made it a mere 20 feet from your car but you can just barely make out its faint outline.

Swallowing, you put on your bravest face and fix your gaze forward.

The reflections of your flashlight casts shifty patterns on the mist in your peripheral vision and you do your best to ignore the chill that creeps up your shoulders.

“Fuck you, Toji.”

You mumble half-heartedly, pulling the hood over head.

You didn’t really mean it though. Would-be-cheater or not more than anything you wished he was here with you now.

You were freezing, tired and all you could think about was how warm and safe you would feel in Toji’s arms. Even if you were mad at him.

You pick up the pace, wanting to get to him sooner.

Almost more unnerving than the fog itself, the forest around you is as quiet as a grave.

There are no chirps of crickets, nor hoots of owls.

Not even in the crisp cold of fall does the wind rustle through the trees, everything is silent.

The haunting nature around you seems to hold its breath as if it knows you're an unwelcome intruder who has trespassed too far.

You don’t dare peer into the trees which look taller in the darkness, closing in tightly on the dirt road. They are ghastly silhouettes of their former selves blocking any moonlight to help guide your way.

You shiver as you feel as if you are being watched from a distance.

The only noise you hear is the soft crunching of rocks and leaves beneath your feet with every unsure step you take forward.

You can’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of dread as a stray tear runs down your cheek.

You couldn’t get to Toji soon enough.

Though you still didn’t have any service the GPS updated as much as it could in roaming, you were so close.

As you continue forward a shadow on the path catches your eye in the foggy distance.

Your heart quickens as you inch closer, your anticipation mingling with fear.

Shapes soon begin to take form and the harsh reality dawns upon you.

A pack of wolves.

Their shadowy figures coalesce before you through the fog as they take stock of you.

You start to feel queasy as you see their red-stained muzzles dripping with the blood of their latest kill. The grotesque carcass of a deer practically stripped to the bone lay lifeless under their enormous paws.

Their eyes, fierce and predatory, meet yours with a chilling intensity as the feeble beam of your flashlight washes over them. The deer, although large, you know is not enough to quell hunger from beasts of their size.

With a shaky breath you slowly retreat, not wanting to further agitate their already aggravated predatory senses.

Then you hear it.

From what seems to be the darkest reaches of the night, a sound reverberates from the trees, through the forest and beyond that's unlike anything you've ever heard before.

The howl that tears through the stillness is so chilling you instantly feel the lamentation that carries the weight of centuries of primal power down in the very marrow of your bones.

Even the wolves snap their heads to attention and bow their heads as if the sound announced the presence of a creature much higher on the food chain... something more ancient and malevolent…

...something terrifyingly unhuman.

The body racking shiver you experience is so intense it has you sprinting at full speed before your mind, frozen from fear, can even process you are moving.

You burst through the dense trees, leaving the road as your heart pounds like a drum in your chest and tears stream freely down your cheeks to soak the edge of Toji’s sweatshirt.

The tangled underbrush of the forest whips the soft skin of your legs and the forest itself seems to conspire against you as you navigate the obstacle course of branches, logs and large rocks all seemingly with a mission to slow you down.

You can hear the chilling howls of the wolves you saw on the road call out behind you, giving chase.

The sounds of their footfalls grow closer with every passing second.

Terrifying as they are, they hold no candle against the howl that sent you running and your body continues to propel you forward.

Panic frazzles your senses and you make the tragic error of trying to steal a glance back behind you before directly colliding with a large cedar.

Groaning from the impact you reel as you try to gather yourself, clinging to the tree for support.

You hear a twig snap behind you and you whirl around as you are faced with a largest gray wolf out of the pack who had been chasing you.

The alpha wolf’s teeth glint menacingly as their breath escapes in visible puffs in the frigid night air.

Too late to try to make a run for it again, you whimper as you resign yourself to your fate. You slid down the large tree to bury your face in your knees.

Was this it?

Was this how you died?

You weren’t even able to see Toji after coming all this way.

You also wanted to be able to hug Megumi one last time and maybe knock the daylights out of Tsukumo for her horrible ass idea.

But ultimately this was all your fault.

You could be snuggled up with Gumi on the sofa with snacks watching Anpanman but your dumbass had to go galavanting off into the middle of the woods like a fucking lunatic and now you’re about to be eaten by a wolf.

You could feel the wolf’s overbearing presence as it approached you but you couldn’t bear to look up. You’d rather spend your final moments thinking of Toji and Megumi.

Yet despite your impending doom, your head did snap up once you felt a rough tongue gently lick your ankles and curiously sniff at the ends of Toji's hoodie covering your legs.

The wolf was more than intimidating up close as its giant muzzle was the size of your entire head.

However the wolf regarded you cautiously like it almost recognized you before releasing its own chillingly deep howl and promptly running off.

Wait– T-The hell?!

You sat there at the trunk of the tree trying to process the interaction that just took place but you didn’t have much time to ponder as you heard something else approaching you rapidly.

The sound of snapping twigs and heavy, uneven footfalls don’t seem to be that of a wolf, renewing the sensation of dread through your body.

Your heart races in your chest as the ominous sounds of the being looming evermore closer become more pronounced.

From the shadows emerges a monstrous figure.

The fog doesn’t reach this deep into the forest and the moonlight that peeks between the trees glimmers on its enlarged taut muscles.

Its eyes, red, burn like fiery amber.

Fierce and resolute you can see them pierce through the darkness long before you can make out any features of the creature's face.

What you think upon first glance must be a demonic apparition from your worst nightmares ends up being–

Toji?!

As he steps into a beam of moonlight, the transformation before you is complete.

Toji’s once-human and feet hands have become formidable claws with nails like blades, his face remains mostly unchanged with the exception of his mouth which in his snarl reveals rows of gleaming, razor-sharp teeth.

He is still mostly human in appearance but you can tell he stands taller, nearly 8 feet.

The thicker body hair on his forearms bristles with raw power.

He was completely bare save for the tattered jeans barely hanging on his body that had torn from the sheer size of his enormous muscularity in this form.

Each step he takes towards you makes your heart skip a beat yet you stare transfixed, unable to look away and your tears increase.

Was this terrifying otherworldly apparition the boyfriend you had been searching for?

Time stands still in that haunting moment as Toji’s eyes bore into your soul with a predatory intensity.

His hunger and primal instincts radiates off of him like a palpable force.

“T-T-Toji?”

You cautiously inquire through your quiet sobs.

“Y/N?! What the fuck do you think y’er doing out here?”

Toji snarls back at you. His growl seems to cause the very atmosphere to vibrate and the earth beneath you quakes as your body involuntarily quivered with fear.

Toji thought he must have been losing his goddamn mind when he caught onto your scent earlier but here you were like a lost little lamb to the slaughter before him.

He came out onto the woods to be alone, away from civilization and away from you and Megumi during his monthly transformations.

It was safer that way, for all of you.

You had been fortunate the local wolf pack had acknowledged him as their Alpha and recognized his scent on you.

But there were far worse dangers in the forest besides them.

Toji wouldn’t be able to protect you like he was now.

Not with you needing protection from him too.

Protection from him as not only was it a full moon, it was a harvest moon, a mating moon.

The primal urge to rip you apart was only truncated by the more intense carnal urge to mate with you. Toji wanted to claim you as his and fuck you so hard into the girthy cedar behind you the entire tree would topple over by its roots.

He had wanted to claim you as his mate for a while now.

Even moved you in with him and Megumi as the final step but you couldn’t wait for that, could you?

You had managed to track him somehow all the way out here and throw his whole plan into the shitter.

He could barely control himself in this form as it is and now your scent, blubbering cries and the fucking harvest moon were sending him with full force into a fierce rut.

“T-Toji w-what is this!? W-what’s happened to you!? W-what are you doing out here?!”

Worry saturates your voice as you choke out your questions in rapid fire cries not giving him time to even respond.

Toji fights the predatory instinct in him who sees you as his prey and if your gaze wasn’t so focused on trying to read his face for answers you surely would have noticed him fully bricked near bursting out of his worn jeans.

You looked so appetizing.

He needed you.

However, Toji could tell your nerves were completely shot and the slightest twitch of his muscles toward you had you almost jumping out of your skin like a little bunny rabbit.

“Y-Y/N…”

His voice strained itself into a murmur as he attempted to do his best to lull you into some sort of security so he could explain things calmly to you.

Yet the way he was near salivating, drool dripping from his canines as he panted and towered over you did anything but make you feel secure.

You mistook his lust for bloodthirstiness.

“Just calm down. It’s OK.”

Toji needed you to be calm like he needed you to take steadier breaths if he was going to successfully win the tumultuous war he was fighting against his instincts to pounce on you.

There is an oppressive tension between the two of you and he can tell you are also fighting against your fight or flight reflexes.

Good girl.

It would be disastrous if you did something foolish, no telling what might happen then.

But unfortunately for the both of you, your fits of emotion and impulses are what had your crazy ass out here in the first place.

The pressure had officially gotten to you.

Toji’s lies, your car, the woods, the wolves, everything leading up to this point bubbled over because the last thing you wanted to be told right now was to ‘just calm down’.

You snapped.

“Ok? OK?! OKAY?!...TOJI WHAT THE FUCK ABOUT THIS IS O.K. RIGHT NOW!?”

You were practically hysterical as you yelled at him, momentarily forgetting your fears of Toji’s new form.

The trigger of being told to 'calm down' in a situation where you clearly had every right to feel every fucking emotion you wanted won out over everything else.

“MY CAR BROKE DOWN BECAUSE OF YOU DOING GOD KNOWS WHAT WITH WHOEVER THE FUCK OUT HERE, I LITERALLY WAS JUST CHASED BY WOLVES, ALMOST EATEN, AND Y-YOU… Y-YOU-”

A crackling snap came from above you and you realized Toji’s claws had completely ripped a large chunk out of the tree right above your head.

Your tantrum had in turn pushed him over the edge as well.

His irises flared intensely at you as you quivered under his gaze in fear.

He would have you but first, he would play with you a bit.

Things never happened the easy way with you.

Yet, that’s also exactly the way Toji liked it too. That's why he'd put up with you thus far.

A malevolent smirk dons Toji's features as his simple command issues an unsettling tremor running down into the depths of your being.

“Run.”

P2 HERE!

© ʙʟᴋᴋɪᴢᴢᴀᴛ 2023. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ, ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ ꜰɪᴄꜱ, ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇꜱ, & ɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄꜱ. ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʙʏ ᴍᴇ ᴜɴʟᴇꜱꜱ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀᴡɪꜱᴇ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴇᴅ. ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ

A/N: Count on Tsukumo to always given the wrong fuckin’ advice. Lmfao! Or was it the right advice in this case? Hmm we will see what happens next!

Smutty goodness in the next part. This part was just to set the horror mood!

I promise this fic isn't as nearly as long as Ghostface!Choso. It's looking to be about 8k total and I have 3.5k of P2 finished lol.

Reblog if you are both submissive and breedable for Werewolf!Toji, but likes and comments are appreciated all the same!

ღTaglistღ:

@callm3senpaii @arxliana @jujutsualy @luxiethefairy @fredswh0re @missphanosaur18 @moon-esque @briefrebelfanalmond @nikkitc0703 & @dancingwithdeities (prone bone coming in p2 just for u sweets!) LMK below if you would like to be tagged in P2. For all kizzatober fic tags comment on m.list.

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yourstrulyrika · 4 months

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just a short smut fic about Leon bc I have history tomorrow and I am about to explode i need to get my mind off of it!! no thoughts about history just Leon !!!

warnings: none! just pure smut with fem!reader

topic: thigh worship bc!! thighs!! i love thighs!! chubby skinny thin toned soft thick IDC i love thighs. so does leon he told me that himself !!!!! Leon Kennedy loves eating you out thats it thats the plot

Leon is a sucker for thighs. He loves thighs. Worships thighs. Could spend hours on your thighs, sleeping on them, kissing them,

but his favorite thing is being between your thighs <3

Leon is a messy eater. You found that long time ago. No matter his mood or energy level — it always ends up messy. Now, Leon has his beloved way of eating you out.

Face sitting

When Leon proposed this idea at first, he was a bit shy, just a bit. His first words were “suffocating between your thighs would be a way to go I wouldn’t complain about.” with that smirk of his. Took a bit to actually get you to sit on him like he’s a damn chair, ended up with him pulling you all the way down, but you’re sitting, so that’s what matters!

When you sat on his face, he thought he’s in heaven. Grows pussydrunk so fast, doesn’t care about his thick cock throbbing in his pants, growls when you try to touch it because why aren’t you focusing on his tongue !! (he ends up cumming in his pants in the end btw)

Slurps, sucks, kisses, nibbles — he LOVES (your) pussy. Leon is a (your) pussy lover. He moans like a damn whore when you grind against him. Sometimes he wraps his hands around your thighs to make you grind against him, eating you so passionately he forgets about the world outside <3 He just loves being used by you!! that’s his life dream!!

“That’s it baby, best pussy in the whole world, lovin’ it s’ much, god,” the crack in his voice is just.. chefs kiss. Sometimes it feels like Leon talks to your pussy instead to you, but you know he loves you as much !!

He doesn’t stop even when you cum, he has to pull out at least two orgasms out of you before he even considers letting you go.

“Cmon.. baby, just one more, know you can do it,” He mumbles between the sucks. He says it for the third time today. You end up completely fucked dumb by his tongue <3 But when he finally stops, he always ends the session with a small press to your clit,

“Sorry baby, not my fault you taste too good.”

Obviously the session doesn’t end there though. Now it’s his time. But not before he presses soft, loving kisses to your thighs, marking them up, gripping them so possessively but still gently. When he’s satisfied with the sight, he finally takes his pants off and lets his cock spring out, hard and leaking for you <3

But no, he doesn’t fuck your pussy. He knows you’re overstimulated! He’s not that cruel!! But he fucks your thighs. Damn, your thighs, he just loves them. He presses your thighs together — he LOVES and lives for the sight of it. And then puts his dick in front of those soft legs, guiding himself between your thighs before finally pushing forward, letting out the loudest whine you heard.

“Shit, s’good, goddamn, you were made for me,“ He genuinely starts babbling, just as fucked dumb as you are. Moving his hips lazily but desperately, covering your inner thighs with his precum. And when he finally cums on your thighs and pulls away, he turns you around and just stares at the art work he made. to him, the sight of your thighs covered in his seed is a damn piece of art.

“Princess, can I take a photo? Looks so pretty, all mine,”

He ends up taking a photo of your thighs like this, his hand resting there and gently squishing the soft flesh, as if marking you as his. You just know he’s gonna jerk his damn soul off to that photo when you’re not around.

End! Phew, that took a minute. I have a history test tomorrow, I will scream my lungs out. Wish me luck or smth </3

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil #resident evil smut #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy smut

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delicrieux · 11 months

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—𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐯𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭, ch.1: things of present and future importance

pairing—carmy berzatto x f!reader genre—drama, romance, age gap, boss/employee relationship warnings for this chapter—trauma, anxiety, swearing, and sum depression as dessert word count—2k

uh-oh, carmen is losing it again, this time in front of his new employee, too.

author’s note: give me this wet dog of a man and give him to me NOWWWWWWWW

masterlist | buy me coffee☕ | read on ao3 . next >

important! some of the dialogue scenes are written as a script & dialogues that overlap are marked in [] <3

there’s a lot of things wrong with this situation, but carmen does not have it in him to care. maybe he never will, and that’s okay, because it’s his fucking restaurant and he knows he could be kinder, could be gentler, could, maybe, keep all of those splinters in his gut from hurting too bad if he took a few deep breaths just how they say in therapy. deep breaths, slow breaths, and then they look at you like you’re a toddler having a meltdown in the middle of the street and suddenly, suddenly, it’s all go fuck yourself and the door slamming shut.

carmen’s an abandoned puppy – disheveled hair and round eyes that have been unloved (by him, most of all), with his head bent and shoulders tense, not sure whether to flee or attack, but offense is the best defense and just like a bad dog he bites when frightened. it’s all teeth and anger and desperation; jaws lock and teeth sink and he doesn’t let go because he’s starving, even if what he’s fighting for is nothing but a cadaver of a place, space, body – brother? no, don’t think of mikey. he’s starving, has been for ages – approval? don’t say that – and that hunger bubbles to the surface when confronted by a minuscule imperfection, like sauce on the stove left to simmer for too long.

it’s a bad first impression, second impression, third, what the fuck, he’s good at food and not very good at math, unless math comes to food and then, maybe, he can sort it out. still bad, still fucking terrible, to be honest, and somewhere in the frying tangles of his mind he knows that yelling doesn’t help, and that yelling in front of the new hire doesn’t bode well for retention. the last enzymes of his sanity warn him – calm down, just, just calm down, carmen, you’re making it worse, you’re making it fucking worse – but the to-go machine keeps beeping, and the kitchen is too hot, and his staff is too anxious, and everything is amplified tenfold by his brother’s looming shadow that exists to him only. don’t think of mikey.

“can someone please turn that fucking thing off?” it’s his voice, laced by such scorn and a barely contained anger that makes him tremble by the pans. he’s losing his mind. sweat collects on his temple and his eyes sting from the fumes billowing onto his face, “sydney!”

“yes, chef.”

sydney’s a trooper, doesn’t bend under pressure like steel, and he sees her maneuvering in his peripherals, quick and agile to not get into anyone’s way, least of all his. briefly, he thinks about burning this place down. he blinks. the beeping stops – she ripped the cord out of the socked, dropped it onto the floor that sent an echo.

the new hire watches this shitshow unfold by her station, eyes wide and weary, ears perked for orders. her hands move – strong hands, swift hands, long fingers and rough palms that cradle a knife the way a mother would cradle a child. she doesn’t look at what she cuts, but she chops and slices and it’s all automatic – trained response? – and if carmen were to take a ruler and inspect the pieces, he’d be impressed to find that most are even and none are crooked. he’d hum, then, skim through the folders of his mind to re-check her experience, re-check the college she went to. he’d say something like, “good work, chef,” and maybe she’d smile at the bare bones of the compliment he’d given her, and when he’d be alone in his dingy office he’d pull out her resume and examine it with more interest because he’d be too embarrassed to ask.

he’ll grow familiar with those hands, with the dips and curves of knuckles and the tiger stripes of scars running down their expanse; he’ll grow familiar with the touch, too, soft despite the callouses, but only to him. not yet, though, not for another few months till a completely expected storm will halt the trains and he’ll have to drive her home. it’ll be weeks after that awkward silence in the car and stolen glances at soaked t-shirt-clad skin.

her form is unfamiliar to him – he hadn’t any interest to look, nor would he find anything curious when all is covered in oversized fabric and a blue apron. at present, she’s his colleague, nothing more, and a young one at that, too young and too talented to be stuck in such a place and with him running it.

but he will look. sooner than expected, and not for any devout reason, unless loneliness can be considered holy.

he’ll feel bad about it, too, and he’ll feel worse when everything escalates, because it always does.

for now, he cooks by the open flame, letting hot oil sizzle on his hands and the fire lick his fingers, and maybe, just maybe, he likes the pain because he knows nothing else. it’s become empirical to him. an indication that he’s still alive. that he’s still in control of something, even if he isn’t.

richie, richie, good fucking god, richie always picks the worst moments to bitch about.

“are you fucking with me?” carmen’s voice, again, a bit higher this time and just a gruff. doe eyes narrow at the bell-tower named richard jerimovich that has the audacity to look clueless, “do not fucking fuck with me right now.”

richie: shove that stick outta [fuck you] your ass, cousin carmen: are you deaf? richie: boutta go deaf if you keep yapping [don’t got time for this]; listen, i just [you just?] came to talk [talk? now? talk?] yes, to talk, look carmen: now you wanna talk? now? you wanna [jesus] fucking talk right now?

the tension in the air is sharp enough to slice through skin. everyone pointedly pretends not to hear this conversation. carmen doesn’t want to hear this conversation, either. there’s a line of people waiting. he reminds richie of that, and richie reminds that oh, he knows, and –

“richie!” it’s sydney, cheeks glowing with sweat and bandana crooked, “not now.”

richie huffs, looks at carmen with a certain exasperation, a wordless question of ‘really? really? you’re letting her run the show, now?’, and carmen needn’t be a genius to know that richie’s gonna bring this up later. he’ll never hear the end of it, he scarcely does now. it’s a headache in the making. his heart skips, or maybe stops, and for a moment he feels white-hot panic shoot through his veins. it passes with a shiver he doesn’t show. he breathes just a tad quicker – not enough air, not enough fucking air, jesus.

richie retreats with his arms raised in surrender, amused and annoyed simultaneously. a quiet follows his departure, and carmen looks at the staff, gaze jumping from one to the other before settling on her. she’s unperturbed by the chaos, working, watching, assessing, and later he’ll learn she wears that face the same way he wears his anger – as armor.

eyes meet and there’s a certain understanding that glimmers in the depths of her iris. but what could she understand? three weeks from now, he’ll come to learn that she’s used to rough edges and loud voices: he’ll learn that she’s the daughter of the chef that made his life hell back in new york, he’ll learn that she took up cooking because she wanted to appease her father, he’ll learn that her parents have split and her mother is sick and that she’s not calm but disconnected and that she tends to live in her head just like him.

but he doesn’t know that now, so he blames the shitty lighting that blinks and buzzes and, “fak, for the love of fucking god, please fix it.”

he said please this time, and it means he’s cooling off. he thankfully misses the quick look the staff shares – a mixture of relief and pity. either would have been devastating to recognize.

the only upside is that the day goes by fast. too much to do, too much to stress about, and carmen’s used to running on nothing but nicotine and adrenaline and an odd spout of desolation, and he manages everything, keeps the pieces glued together until eventually everything becomes too much and then he crumbles. still picks them up gently, like handling broken glass. he visits the storage often. closes the door for a moment and just lets himself breathe, reminds himself how to. doesn’t calm, only collects, reigns in the anger that coats loneliness. don’t think about mikey.

the staff cleans in a similar silence that douses after a storm.

the night's clear, crisp air compounded with cigarette smoke. he leans on the wall of the restaurant, staring into space, listening to the white noise of a restless city. by now, sydney has flipped the CLOSED sign; by now, his new hire is probably thinking about quitting, elbows deep in cleaning detergent as she scrubs the floor. he’ll have to go over her work and double-check. just in case there’s something more to do for hands that are always restless.

he tries to think but his head is scrambled. too many thoughts rushing in and out, loud, obnoxious, too quick to leave a lasting impact. he’s tired. he’s always tired. he wants lay on his bed and let sleep swallow him whole, but he knows that won’t happen. if he sleeps, he dreams of new york, he dreams of fire, he dreams of voices coming from the other room. one, in particular, holds a familiar rasp and drawl, punctuated by laugher, weaving a tale and stop it, don’t think about it anymore, just stop it, don’t think about –

he tosses the cigarette, watching the embers burn.

don’t think about mikey.

he enters through the back exit, stalks through the restaurant like he's haunting the place. briefly stops to stare at the mirror behind the bar. doesn't really recognize the man staring back.

the clock reads 00:30 am.

marcus was the last to leave, or so carmen assumed by the silence that shrouds the place, but as he makes his way to his office, he hears a locker shutting, and the sound rattles him so much his heart beats in his throat. all of that previous exhaustion ignites into anxiety that makes his limbs lock up.

she halts by the mouth of the kitchen, hair matted from sweat and lower lip marked where her teeth sunk, drooped eyes widening a fraction as she regards him. he can only stare at her in return, at her messy hair and pinched eyebrows and the slight downward curl of her lips.

“you could use a coffee,” she utters, and her voice is jarring – not for any unpleasant reason, but for the fact that he didn’t expect to hear it. he’ll grow to like it, crave it, even, because it’s a lovely cadence and it’ll sound even lovelier when she says his name.

he’s frightened by it now, if one can be scared of such a thing. so he bites.

“it’s almost 1 am.”

“right,” she mutters dryly.

“why are you still here?” he questions, and it almost sounds like an accusation, because he thought he was alone, only to suddenly be proved wrong. feels like an invasion of privacy, to be fucking honest, “your shift ended like an hour ago.”

“oh, I, uh, had some things to finish, so…” she trails off, but she still looks at him, and it’s unnerving, really, how she doesn’t budge under the weight of his stare. he bends under hers, though; the floor is spotless, he has nothing left to do. he misses the visible tension in her face, misses the quick swipe of her tongue on her lower lip as she opens and closes her mouth. it’ll take two whole weeks to grow entranced by the sight. misses the polite smile, too, but hears it in her voice anyway, “night.”

her sneakers squeak and echo and the door shuts. silence settles heavy on his shoulders. he’s not sure if he’s more distraught by her sudden appearance or abrupt departure. both somehow feel bad. in less than half a year, he’ll come to realize that the latter is worse.

ch.2: thank you, love you

#the bear #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen x reader #carmy berzatto #carmy x reader #the bear imagine #imagine #imagines #reader #xreader #give him a moment he jacks off in chapter two #hes so pathetic i love him

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iamyourdailydoseofbi · 2 days

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THE HISTORY BOOK ON THE SHELF. ( HOTD x Reader )

AUTHOR NOTE! Thanks for all the love. <3 pairing: King Aegon ii Targaryen x Targaryen! Little Sister! Reader prompt: When the small council plans to marry off once again, you turn to your older brother for help. word count: 1, 000+ words

You were the youngest and third daughter of Alicent and Viserys. A few months younger than Helaena and Aegon's little shadow in your childhood. Your older brother at first hated it, the way you cling onto him and gawk at him with an innocent awe.

It was your ninth name day, your Father had not paid much attention to it, but your Mother had ordered a celebration for it. You had trailed after him, babbling about nonsense as he tried to lose you. It was at dinner that night that everything had boiled over. Instead of receiving gifts, you had taken to giving everyone a gift.

He had not expected anything. He hadn't been the most kind to you. But was surprised when you had gifted him an embroidered cloth with Sunfyre on it. It was not the best and some threads were loose, but you proudly had told him you learned embroidery for him. Seeing those big doe eyes of yours his opinion changed. He adored you. You were the only one in the family that did not care about his worsening reputation. You just...adored your big brother, flaws and all.

It was why it killed him on your eleventh name day you were shipped off to the Reach, married off to a Lord as old as your Grandsire. He was haunted by your wails, of the way you clung onto Helaena and Aemond, the two of them wailing as Ser Cole carried you off to the carriage.

His young sister, the only one in the family who truly cared, was sold off like a piece of cattle. Not even your cold Grandsire was able to protest the marriage as politically it was a good match and good enough reasoning for the small council to approve it.

As years ticked by, you gave birth to two children, a stillborn daughter and a healthy son. Your husband kept you away in the Reach, so no one in your family had seen you since you were twelve and given birth to your only surviving son.

He remembered the look in your eyes, so void and almost dead. Of how you tried to stay positive. Saying, "Tis' not so bad. He mostly ignores me, except when he wishes to bed me. But even then tis' not so bad, he finishes quickly."

When he became King, he swiftly ordered you to return home, regardless of your husband's wishes. No one would take his baby sister away from him. Not whilst he was still alive and had the crown placed upon his head.

Watching you bounce your son on your lap, he attempts to pay some attention to the small council, but his eyes keep straying back to you. It was odd to think that you were now a Mother and all grown up. Snapping out of his little daze, he glances back at the small council, each member arguing intently. Furrowing his brows in confusion, Ser Criston slides a piece of parchment in front of him, an uncomfortable look on his face. Raising a brow at what he had just returned to, he glances at the parchment, reading the words quickly.

Your cunt of a husband was dead, finally croaked in his sleep. There was no reason for you to go back to the Reach. You could stay here in King’s Landing once more. Softly smiling at the good news, he goes to speak up when Lord Lannister stands up from his chair, slamming his hands down on the table. His face red from anger, his eyes wild like an untamable beast, and voice booming loud enough that it would make a dragon’s roar put to shame.

“To speak of the Princess in such a manner is dishonorable, I will see to it personally that your tongue is removed, Lord Wydle.”

“The girl is of age, she has proven she can bear heirs, healthy heirs. To not give her hand to another Lord would be foolish.”

“We need allies, the common folk are starving and soon the coin will run out. Surely as Master of Coin you can see reason, Lord Lannister.”

“Your grace, please, listen to reason we should⎯”

It takes a moment to realize what they had been discussing so intently. Then it clicks, they were speaking of having you remarry.

"What?" He whispers, his voice shaky and full of disbelief.

"No, Aegon, please don't make me do this again. Please." You whisper, tears building up in your eyes.

"It would be best to have your sister marry someone⎯"

"Think of the war, your grace⎯"

Seeing the tears building up in your eyes, it reminded him of all those years ago when you were whisked away to the Reach. Struggling to speak up and dismiss their suggestions, you kneel in front of his chair, gripping onto breeches as you beg and plead for clemency to their plans. Your son starts to wail on the other side of his chair, making motions with his hands to be picked up.

Feeling his heart break a little at the sight, he shifts his gaze from you then your wailing son then back to the small council. Everything is hectic and he doesn’t know who or what to focus his attention on. Does he console you? Does he tend to your wailing son? Does he handle the small council? Struggling to find his voice, he just stays frozen in his chair.

“Please, please, do not make me do this again, Aegon.” You beg, “I did what was asked of me before. Please do not ask this of me again.”

“We need allies, your grace. The Princess is still desired by many men, men who will look past her past marriage and son. Think of the kingdom⎯”

“Send treaties, then!”

“Please, Aegon. I ask your sister, not a member of the Court. Please do not make me do this again.” You beg, your voice cracking.

Watching as the tears begin to fall from your eyes, he clenches his jaw tightly, anger boiling up at the sight of you. His precious little sister, the one person in all of the Realm that he truly cared for, was crying by his small council's hand. Slamming his hands down hard on the table, the room goes deadly silent, minus the soft sniffles of you and your son.

“There will be no marrying off my sister! If you wish for such alliances as much as you claim, do offer your daughters instead, for I will not be doing the same to my sister nor my daughter.”

“Your grace, if you would just⎯”

“I am King, no?” He snaps back, “There will be no questioning of my decision. The matter is settled.”

----

@fragileheartbeats

@danytar

@nightvers

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ultralightpoe · 2 years

Text

Salt the Earth Behind You- Aemond Targaryen

Authors Note: I’m back with another Aemond fic. MY REQUESTS ARE OPEN AND THE AEMOND TAGLIST IS STILL OPEN SO LET ME KNOW! ENJOY!

Warnings: heavy language, angst, reader is engaged to an old man sadly.

Word Count: 4052 (Yeahhhh. Buckle in Bitches)

Description: Friendships ruined in moments of anger.

Part Two : And Let The Blood Bind You

Salt the earth behind you: To poison any future

The soft mud of the earth below the carriage swallows your shoe as you step down from the exit, using your betrothed’s hand as leverage to not fall. This would already be embarrassing enough, you did not need to walk into the throne room caked in mud.

Verlain Stark, cousin to Cregan Stark, flashed you a wide smile as he helped you. His hand gripped yours for a second too long before you felt yourself snatching it back, doing your best to keep the easy smile you had glued to your face since the start of the engagement.

The man was well over the age of suitor you wanted, three times your own age, but it had been set up by your father. A way to unite his land with the Starks and a way to get rid of his plain daughter all in one go. Who was anyone kidding? Verlain was the only man who would want your hand and you were lucky he could barely see.

“I must say, I find it odd that my betrothed and I have to come all the way down here just for the queens approval.” He smiles, leaning in so that you may smell the fresh stench of overly boozed vomit on his breath. “Never had to do that with my first 3 wives.”

That’s right, Verlain Stark had outlived 3 wives, a surprising feat considering each time he married the younger they got. The first died in childbirth, the babe a stillborn. The second wife jumped from her window. The third…. Well the third had her throat split open in the dead of night. She too was pregnant.

“Lady Alicent was very protective of me in my time here, I am very thankful for her care.” You say softly, the collar of your dress digging into your throat. The dresses in Winterfell were far from comfortable and refused to show any skin.

It was true, you were thankful for your time at the Red Keep, you just wished it hadn’t ended in such heartbreak for you.

You had been taken in as Queen Alicents ward, out of the kindness of her heart after your dear mother passed away in childbirth, your father having no idea what to do with you.

The day you landed in Kings Landing you had been so nervous, clinging to your fathers hand as he pushed you off. You were scared and everyone was staring at you like you were a freak.

“Aw. This must be the dearest Y/n….” The Queen gushes, reaching for you softly. “Come little one, you must meet my children. I have a son a year older than you.”

Within an instant you were surrounded by a group of gorgeous white haired children, all circling you. “Children, this is Lady Y/n. She is to be taken in as my ward. Aegon! Hands off!”

The tallest of the three snatches his hand back with an eye roll, sauntering off. The girl barely says a word before going back to her insects. That left the shorter boy, standing there with his hands behind his back, waiting for his mother to introduce him patiently.

“Y/n, this is my youngest…. Aemond.” She smiles, leaving to discuss some matters with your father. You stood as straight as possible, afraid to make the wrong move and anger someone.

“You can breathe you know,” The boy chuckles, imitating a deep breath in to make you imitate it.

“You’re a Targaryen.” You say softly, desperate to start a conversation only to feel like a fool the second the words fall from your lips. “I mean, that was blatant, everyone knows that. I apologize for stating the obvious, my prince.”

“I don’t have a dragon if that is what you meant.” He sneers, eyes narrowing.

“What does it matter if you have a dragon?” You ask, hands clenched together in anxiety. “I…I apologize if I have offended you..”

You picked up your skirts and rush to your maid as quick as possible, desperate for the comfort of someone you knew.

“Come, Lady Y/n.” Verlain calls, getting one of his men to shove you forward as you had been stuck in your head. “Your father is quite persistent on seeing you before our meeting with the King and Queen.”

You nod and turn to your maid, who had been glaring at the soldier that shoved you forward in your honor, she instantly grabs your arm and leads you to where your old rooms had been while you stayed here some time ago.

“You must stop biting your lip Lady Y/n,” She whispers as you blush. “It is unseemly for a lady to bleed. The lord should think you disgusting.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes at that, heavens above you seem disgusting to that old man.

You’re caught off guard by a feeling on the back of your neck, your spine going tense. “He’s here….”

It had been an odd gift, the ability to sense whenever Aemond Targaryen was near you, but it had come in handy.

“Who is, my lady?” Your maid leans forward as you snatch her hand and drag her away from the courtyard, desperate to escape him.

Aemond seemed to not care that you offended him on your first meeting, for he soon became your best friend.

You spent every afternoon together after that first day. You would listen about his day at the dragonpit, listen to him talk about all the different sorts of dragons. He would bring you books, stolen from the royal library and would ask you about them constantly.

Within weeks you found yourself craving his attention, always looking for him in a crowd of people and always searching for him at parties.

“Lady Y/n!” He calls, running down the hall covered in black smoke. “I came close to a dragon today. A FULLY GROWN DRAGON!”

Your entire body was locked up with dread as Aemond barged between you and the male you had been introduced to that morning. “Prince Aem-”

You tried to stop the prince as the older man stared down at you with a glare. “Prince Aemond, this is Lord Henric….. He is meeting me as a suitor today.”

“This old man?” He snaps, eyes so wide you have to stop yourself from laughing. “No. Come on. We will be talking with my mother.”

He left no room for argument, grabbing your arm and storming off. Your maid, who had been there as a chaperone, follows closely with a shocked expression.

Once you escape the hall you tear your arm away, tears pouring from your eyes. “You fool!”

He looks taken aback for a moment before reaching for your arm once more, you take two steps back. “Aemond! I have been here for 2 years! Your mother, kind as she is, will not take me as a ward much longer.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m plain!” You snap. “My father says it, everyone else knows it. I am a plain and boring girl with no redeemable qualities that would help me score a match. Your mother is doing her best to obtain me a match before any of these men realize just how ugly I am and here you come ruining it!”

The anger written on his face is actually terrifying as steps closer. “You are not plain! Your father has no idea what he is speaking about! And if he were here I would carve out his tongue.”

You don’t respond, sobbing as you turn to walk away from him, hands shaking as you think on how disappointed the Queen will be once she realizes the suitor would not propose.

“Y/n.” Aemond calls desperately, chasing after you. “We will find you a suitor. Once that isn’t two steps from death. I swear it. I swear it on my grave and any future dragon I might claim.”

“Your betrothed is quite…….” You try not to laugh as your maid tries to come up with the proper term for the older man.

He had talked the entire journey, and whereas you had to pretend to be interested in an effort to keep his attention your maid was miserable. The poor chaperone.

“He is…. Talkative.” You nod, heat traveling your body as you tug at the overly warm dress. “But I can't risk another suitor mishap. This is my last chance. My father has run out of patience.”

Not that he ever had patience to begin with, he was constantly angered by his ‘plain daughter’.

“Would you like to change into a more comfortable dress, my lady?”

“No. I have none. I must wear Winterfell dresses, to show my allegiance.” You sigh, walking away from her to prepare to see your father before you face the queen.

“Aegon says you love me.” Aemond blurts one day, walking with you in the gardens. You freeze, whipping to look at him, having just been caught.

“W-what?”

“He says you look at me with a fucked out puppy eyed look.” Aemond sighs, turning to see where you had stopped walking. “What’s wrong? He only said it to me, I would never let him spill such vile accusations to another.”

You wanted to laugh at his answer, as if that was the biggest problem right now. “Prince Aemond-”

“Please don’t.” He stops you. “I cannot suffer that today Lady Y/n….”

You are embarrassed, truly. Of course he didn’t want to hear your stupid confession. He was a Targaryen and you were a plain ward. “I’m sorry, my prince.”

He nods, moving to keep walking with you through the gardens some more.

Your dress was far too tight, and the headpiece braided into your hair was way too heavy on your head, the veil swinging back and forth with every movement.

A black veil, and a grey dress. You looked like the lady death, most people would laugh but you were trying to seem interested in the Stark world. Even if the thought of living in the land of winter sounded absolutely miserable.

“You look…..decent, daughter” Your father greets, avoiding your gaze as me moves to greet your betrothed, a smile spreading onto his features.

Bile rises in your throat as embarrassment fills you. How plain and disappointing were you really?

You held onto Aemonds hand on the boat, watching Aegon and Helaena ride above you on their dragons. He grasps your hand tightly as you flinch at a wave of wind that hit you when Aegon flew too close.

“When I get a dragon you’ll have to get used to them.” He laughs, watching you swallow in worry. “You’ll be riding the dragon with me.”

“I don’t think that would be allowed, My prince.” You blush, fighting the smile threatening to unfold.

“I’m the prince. I would make it allowed.” He argues, bringing you closer. “Now read to me, take my attention off the death of my cousin.”

You opened your book once more, reading to him softly as you made your way to the funeral of Laena Velayron.

Your hands shook as you made your way to the throne room, sweat covering every inch of your body while you looked dead ahead, following your betrothed.

You felt like you were about to throw up, which would for sure ruin any chance at marriage with the Lord.

“Keep it together” You whisper to yourself, tears threatening to spill the closer you get to the throne room. “You musn’t mess this up.”

You awoke to the heavy sound of a dragon taking off, larger than Aegons or Helaenas. Jumping off your bed and running to the window, expecting to see Syrax or Caraxes you see Vhagar taking off into the clouds.

Your heart jumps through your throat, excitement to go find Aemond and tell him you had just witnessed the biggest dragon in the world take off. Slipping on your sleeping shoes and taking off through the halls of Driftmark, desperate to find Aemond.

You find him in the tunnels of Driftmark, air a mess and tunic distorted, a wild look in his eyes. It took you a moment to realize what had happened, panic clawing at your throat.

“Y/n! You will never believe -”

“Aemond….. What have you done?” You whisper, watching as his face falls.

“It’s you!” Baela snaps from behind you, the group of them shoving you aside as they face Aemond.

He watched you fall to the ground before turning to the four of them. “It’s me.”

“Vhagar is my mothers dragon!”

“Your mother’s dead.” Aemond states calmly. “And Vhagar has a new rider now.”

“She was mine to claim!”

“Then you should have claimed her! Maybe your cousins can find you a pig to ride. It would suit you.” He smirks, not bothering to make sure you got up.

Within moments the girl was running up, hitting him, to which your bestfriends snaps back harshly. Then the brawl insued.

All four of them against him, but Aemond held his own for a moment, as you tried pushing through to help. When Jace pulled the knife he slashed your hand and wrist to move you out of the way, a scream tearing through your throat as he slashed up Aemonds face.

Aemond bellowed in pain, hands flying up to his face as his blood flew. You instantly reach to help him, the blood from your hand mixing with his own as you cling to him.

Screaming for help as he tried to pull away from you.

The scar on your arm, left from the night Vhagar had been claimed, itched terribly under the fur of the dress you now wore. You fought the urge to fidget as your father introduced the courtship to the Queen, who had taken to sit on the throne instead of standing by it.

To the left of the throne stood her three children, all older in age and all still exceptionally beautiful. Aemond, now with an eyepatch and death glare, had not taken his eyes off your figure upon entering. Not that it mattered, he couldn’t see your face with the veil over it, a proper respect to your betrothed.

Alicent seemed hesitant upon looking at you, a twist in her eyebrows told her she was doing her best to see through the veil to look upon you.

“We are very grateful that Lord Verlain had asked for my daughters hand in marriage, and hope that the crown will permit it-” Your father states, kneeling with his head bowed. You were kneeling behind him, right next to the old man who seemed to have struggled getting into his knees for the Queen.

“As they permitted his first…. How many was it?” Aemond starts, a dark tone to his voice. “Three marriages?”

“Aemond.” The queen corrects him, casting a look to where he stood.

“I’ve never actually had to come and get permission.” Verlain laughs, still struggling in the position he was in. “I found it quite odd myself, considering my first wives weren’t so……plain. Yet this one drew the attention of the crown.”

Plain. There that word was again. The only word you’ve ever really heard to describe you…. That and the ones Aemond screamed at you that night.

“YOU DID NOTHING!” Aemond screams, shoving you slightly as your eyes well up in tears.

You had come to check on him, desperate to make sure he was okay. You hadn’t been allowed into the room as he got his stitches, sent to your rooms immediately so the family may deal with their private matters.

“Aemond….they didn’t let me in with you. I swear it.” You defend, taking a step closer, desperate to touch him. His face was swollen and red.

“That is not what I am talking about and you know it! You insufferable bitch!” He shouts and you rear back. “You let them do this to me! You are against me!”

“I’m not! Aemond I swear it!”

“I HEARD WHAT YOU SAID WHEN I WENT TO TELL YOU ABOUT VHAGAR!”

“I was shocked-”

“Then you let them do this to me!”

“I tried to stop it-”

“WHO WILL WANT ME NOW?!”

“What do you mean?”

“Who will want to marry me now?! No one is able to look at me!” He sobs and you try to contain your sobs.

“I…… I would.” You whisper, the sudden braveness shocking you.

“I’m sorry?”

“I…. I would marry you Aemond.” You say, a little louder.

He stares at you for a moment, shock written on his features before his face molds into anger, a dry laugh escaping him. “You?......YOU?”

You take a step back, throat tightening as the tears fall freely now. Aemond is quick to notice the weakness, taking advantage.

“Is that what I’m stuck with now? The plain cunt that let them maim me?” He steps forward and you take another step back. “I’m ugly…. But even then you would not be of my standard. A lowborn, boring, fucktoy.”

You can’t hear anymore, rushing past him to run back to your rooms, sobbing aggressively.

Your maid cleans the wound, humming softly to ease your sobs as she does so. The next morning you sit by yourself on the ship, the queen and king hidden in the alcove as you are exposed to the wind of the sea surrounded by the crewman.

Aemond flies over the ship, followed by his two siblings. All the dragons roar loudly as you turn away, tears falling as you stifle the sobs.

“What a charming way to describe your future wife-” Aemond snaps, taking a quick step forward only to be stopped by the hand, who also happened to be his grandfather.

You tried not to scoff at the comment, as if he hadn’t said worse to you.

“I must say…. It has been so so long since I’ve gotten to see your face my dearest Y/n….”Alicent says softly, leaning forward. “Might you bless us by lifting your veil?”

Your shoulders tense as you nod slowly, moving to lift the veil up. Your hands shook as you pulled it back, finally coming face to face with the royal family.

You hear a soft gasp and turn to see Aemond staring at you, eye wide as his back straightens.

You whip your head away, turning back to the queen who is already staring at you.

“Y/n…..” She says softly, staring at you as you shake in fear in front of her.

“I’M SO SORRY YOUR MAJESTY!” You sob, falling to the rug beneath you, shaking from fear.

Things had been different since you got back, especially with the queen. She had been silent for 3 weeks, constantly biting at her nails and muttering about fairness.

You had avoided Aemond like the plague, every time you catch sight of him you would turn the opposite direction.His siblings would take his side so they were out of the question and everyone else at the court treated you like you were a peasant.

You were lonely, and tired.

You hadn’t spoken to anyone but your maid in awhile. Which led you to go to the queen, begging for her to let you go home. Begging.

She smiles at you, standing from the throne and coming down the steps, grabbing both sides of your face lovingly. “There you are….”

“It is an honor to see you again, your majesty.” You whisper, trying not to bite at your lip.

“It is quite a pain to have to say bye to my old ward, I’m sure you understand Lord Verlain.” She chuckles, turning to the man. “You must give me time to see more of the union before I give my blessings.”

“I understand completely, your majesty.” He snipes, his entire posture telling that he was lying.

“We shall feast with you tonight! It is settled.” She claps, walking away.

You move to help your betrothed stand, avoiding a look to the royal children as he shoves you back the second he stands. “I’m beginning to debate if you are worth it, child.”

He storms off, your father hissing at you as he chases after the man to ease the tension. You move to follow, hands clenching in fear as you imagine him calling off the engagement.

“Wait! Lady Y/n!” You hear from behind you, the sound of steps quickly following your own. “Please wait.”

You don’t turn, but you do wait, standing still as he walks up. The prince stands behind you for a moment before realizing that you would not be turning or looking up.

He bends down to meet your gaze, walking around until he was in front of you. “I must say, you have grown.”

“So have you, my prince.” You say softly, avoiding his gaze as he struggles to find it. “If you would excuse me, I should really go check on my-”

“May I escort you through a walk in the gardens?” He interrupts, jaw clenched as he holds his elbow out.

You really have no choice, to refuse the prince would be an insult. So instead of speaking, you simply nod and grab his extended elbow for him to lead you to the gardens.

You don’t say a word as you fix your veil, so that you wouldn’t have to look at him, following his lead.

“D-do….do you remember all our times in the gardens?” He asks, a nervous tone filling the air as he clears his throat.

“I do indeed, My Prince.” You state simply, jumping a little when his other hand reaches up to hold yours where it was placed in his elbow. When you go to pull away his hand grips onto yours a little tighter, interlocking your fingers with his.

“Tell me about all the books you’ve been reading.” He demands, sounding excited for a moment, waiting patiently.

“I….. I actually….. I haven’t read in some time.” You admit. “It is not suitable for a young women to waste her time-”

“Says. Who.” He snaps, stopping you from walking.

“I’m a woman now, Prince Aemond. I must, to procure a future, focus on things that would help that future.” Your voice is tense, fighting the urge to cry as you struggle to pull your hand away. But he doesn’t let you, instead pulling your hand to sit flat on his chest. “Aemond please…. Someone could think this unseemly.”

“Finally, my fucking name without that stupid title.” He laughs, reaching the hand that wasn’t holding yours up to snatch the veil off of you. “And there she is… finally.”

You stay quiet as you move to walk away, trying to escape, but he pulls you back aggressively.

“What do I have to do?” He snaps, jaw tensing. “To get you to speak to me-”

“I am speaking to you-”

“Y/n please!” He tugs you to the side, away from the chance of anyone seeing you both argue. “Please.. I haven’t seen you in years-”

“I needed to go home-”

“You avoided me after that night, I tried to talk to you but you always disappeared out of my sight-”

“I WONDER WHY AEMOND!” You scream, shoving him away. “Don’t ruin this for me.”

“Ruin what? You would have to have something to actually ruin.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Don’t do this. This is not….. He. Will. Kill. You.”

You scoff, turning to rush away but he is quick to dive in front of you. “I have known you since we were children and I know that you are not foolish enough to marry a man with THREE DEAD WIVES!”

“Stop.”

“You don’t read. You haven’t smiled. You…… You look two steps away from jumping out a tower like his second wife. And I refuse to let that happen.” He snarls, eye wild as he leans in. “I refuse to lose you like that.”

“Leave me alone Aemond.” You seethe, shoving him back. “This is my job. Remember? To be the boring little fucktoy? So. Let. Me. Be.”

You rush away from him, breathing heavy as the tears fall again, the scar on your arm burning.

Aemond watches you go, the veil he had torn away from you clutched tightly in his hand.

Should I do another part?

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#aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen angst #House of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon imagine

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linawritestwst · 1 year

Note

HCs for The third-year squad when they find a little doodle of them with hearts around it in the reader's notebook?

third years finding your doodle of them with hearts around it headcanons (gn!reader)

YAY I HAVE ONLY ONE REQUEST LEFT i saved the sad one for last <3 so yeah, enjoy these cute hcs while you can!

cater diamond.

♡ cater would take a look at your notebook simply because he was curious. he knows that it's not a good thing to do and he respects your privacy, but come on, your drawings are so cute, please let him see them! but then he opens your notebook and sees.. this. he sees a small doodle of a guy that looks a lot like him and it's.. um.. surrounded by hearts?

♡ cater wants to think that it's just a coincidence that this guy looks so much like him, maybe it's just your art style, haha.. though a small part of him wants to believe that this really is him. but why did you draw so many hearts too? maybe you just thought they were cute and decided to add them? surely there's no deeper meaning to any of this..

♡ he tries his best to forget what he saw, it's not a big deal, it's just a random doodle that he saw in your notebook, it's not him. it can't be him, right? i mean.. if it was him, that would mean you most likely have a crush on him. and he just can't imagine you falling in love with him. why would you even think of drawing him? nah, that's just not possible.. though his heart does beat a bit faster when he's thinking about it.

trey clover.

♡ oh, it looks like you forgot your notebook in class. there's no need to worry though, because trey will bring it back to you! he's so kind and caring, isn't he? okay, let him just take it and.. oh, it looks like it's open actually. well, that would be rude of him to read it, so he's just gonna- wait, is that him? trey wouldn't be surprised if it turns out that this guy isn't supposed to be him, his vision is not the best after all, but.. he still can't help but feel like this is actually a drawing of him.

♡ he won't ask you about it, he will just simply bring that notebook back to you, like he planned to. he doesn't want you to know that he saw that drawing and also, he has no idea how he'd prove that it wasn't intentional and he didn't actually want to read your notebook. sorry, y/n, this man isn't always honest with you, even though he really hates lying to you.

♡ .. he has to admit that he thought that doodle was cute. he almost laughed because you only drew his glasses and didn't draw his eyes. and the hearts.. he has no idea why they're here, you probably just drew them to make the drawing look ever cuter. it almost looks like you have a crush on him or something.. you don't have one, right?

leona kingscholar.

♡ this guy doesn't care about what's in your notebook. he looked at it only because he was bored, he had nothing to do, he didn't want to sleep (shocking, i know!) and then he saw your notebook lying on the floor. did it fall out of your backpack or something? he probably should bring it to you, even though he's too lazy to do that.. but again, it's not like he has anything else to do right now.

♡ .. now, what's this? this notebook is filled with doodles (you really don't pay much attention to classes, don't you?) and the one he's looking at right now looks a lot like him. your art style made him look too cute though, it's.. kinda gross. and what's with the hearts? ugh, you're so weird.. he shouldn't think too much about it.

♡ he brings the notebook back to you and doesn't say anything about seeing that one drawing, but he says that your art style is so cute that it makes him want to throw up. you just roll your eyes and thank him for the "compliment". right when you're about to leave though, you realize that it means he saw your drawings and you throw that notebook in his face. you sure hope he didn't see that drawing..

vil schoenheit.

♡ your notebook isn't that interesting to him. really, he would look at it only so that he can bring it to you and say how irresponsible you are. your handwriting is so messy.. you've been drawing in class too. you're not just irresponsible, you're lazy too. he should go and find you already- wait.. now, vil is most likely wrong (and he hopes he is), but.. is that him?

♡ he sees a little doodle of him in your notebook surrounded by tiny hearts. something is telling him it really is him, like the hairstyle, the pomefiore dorm uniform.. but also, he wishes this drawing would be more detailed. like, no, y/n, he's not okay with simply having dots for his eyes. and where is his nose? where is his makeup? wait, maybe he's wrong and this isn't supposed to be him.. no, it really is him. he's not like other characters, he's not in denial.

♡ when he gives you your notebook back, he doesn't mention that drawing (and he doesn't understand why he didn't do it), but he tells you that if you're gonna draw in class again instead of paying attention, you should at least try working on your art style more. no, these cute little doodles won't do, if you have something more important to do instead of studying and working, it should look like something important. you just look at him and after a minute of silence you go ".. did you just call my doodles cute?".. okay, that's it, he's leaving.

rook hunt.

♡ of course he would go through your notebook. of course he would. why? well.. he just wants to know more about you! he goes crazy when he sees it. your handwriting is so unique and beautiful! the way you take notes is so interesting! everything about your notebook is so aesthetically pleasing to him. he likes those little doodles you draw while taking notes too. they're so cute, so adorable, you're so creative! hm, now what do we have here..

♡ forgive him for this, but.. why does he feel like this little drawing is supposed to be him? like, this is definitely his hat. this is his haircut. this also looks like pomefiore dorm uniform.. oh my, it really is him! now excuse him, he's about to go JDHSJDNBSJHNDJDSKDSK 💖💓💗💞💕 HE LOOKS SO CUTE HERE!! you've done such a great job, how did you manage to draw him so well even though it's just a tiny doodle?

♡ yes, he will compliment your drawings when he finds you. no, he doesn't care if you go "WAIT, YOU READ MY NOTEBOOK??". yes, he did exactly that, y/n, give him a minute, this man wants to tell you how talented you are and how honored he is to be drawn by you. now, he has to go. oh, wait, he almost took your notebook with him- here it is.

idia shroud.

♡ ah, it's your notebook.. well, it's not like he wants to read it. no, really, he's not interested. but then, as he about to leave, he notices your drawings and.. okay, they're cute. he wants to see more of them. he really hopes you don't come back for your notebook because if you appear right behind him and see what he's doing, he will die.

♡ your doodles are so cute.. he just can't stop turning the pages, he doesn't care about your notes and your handwriting, he just wants to see the drawings. he especially likes the ones with cats. wait, what's this drawing supposed to mean- OH SEVENS THIS IS HIM. he knows that it's him, this is obviously his hairstyle and his hoodie and- Y/N I'M SORRY BUT THIS GUY IS SO CLOSE TO JUST THROWING YOUR NOTEBOOK OUT THE WINDOW HE DOESN'T KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH THIS INFORMATION

♡ when you come back to get your notebook, you see this pathetic (affectionate or not) man lying on the floor and trying to hide how red his face is with his hands, but his hair turning pink gives everything away. you have no idea what happened here, so you just take your notebook and leave. maybe it's better not to ask him, it doesn't look like he will give you a proper answer right now anyway.

malleus draconia.

♡ oh, looks like you forgot your notebook. hm, he knows that it's rude to read someone's notes without their permission like this.. but he can't deny that he's curious and wants to see what you've written here. maybe this will help him get to know you better. and why is he so excited about this? like he's just reading your notebook, this is not something special.. but it's special to him, because it's your notebook.

♡ he likes everything about your notes. your handwriting, the way you take notes, your drawings.. hehe, they're so cute. now that he thinks about it, he doesn't remember ever seeing you draw before. he wishes you would show your art to him more often, you really are talented. even if these drawings are small and not that serious, they still feel like a part of you and he loves them just as much as he loves- wait, is this what he thinks it is?

♡ .. it really is him. these are his horns, his eyes, his ears, his hairstyle.. this is your drawing of him. he accidentally drops your notebook when he realizes this. he's just so shocked, he doesn't know what to do. like, how is he even supposed to react to this? when he calms down a little, he realizes that he's actually.. very happy about this. other diasomnia students don't understand why their dorm leader keeps smiling like something good happened today and it honestly scares them a little.

lilia vanrouge.

♡ like rook, he's unashamed to admit that he read your notebook. look, he was bored, okay? also he likes you and he always wanted to learn more about you, so <3 he would love your doodles a lot, they're so small, they're so silly! hehe, they say so much about your personality and you probably don't even realize it. but then he turns a page and.. he sees a drawing of him.

♡ like, he knows that this is him. he can feel it, okay, his intuition never fails him! it's because of his hairstyle. he recognized himself because of the hairstyle he looks so cute in your art style, he can't stop smiling when he looks at that drawing. oh, wait, you added some hearts too.. haha, does this mean that you have a crush on him? you're so adorable. well, lucky for you, he likes you back~

♡ you find him hanging upside down as always and reading your notebook. you tell him to give it back to you and even though he really wants to play with you, he agrees and you get your notebook back. but later that day, while doing homework, you notice that one page is missing. if you're not wrong, it was a page with that drawing of lilia.. you really hope that lilia won't find it, you just know that he won't leave you alone if that happens.

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lazypanartist · 1 year

Text

Hobie Brown x Artistic/DIY Reader

I love him 💙

pt 1 - Pt 2 - Pt 3 - Pt 4

Warnings: maybe spoilers for ATSV, IDK. Reader's in the punk scene and from Hobie's universe. Whole lotta projection. Canon-typical injuries

Features info dumping and personal Hobie HCs I guess. It's long ASF. And just self indulgent

Please RB, likes alone don't do anything for the algorithm!

-----

DIY/punk Hobie Brown

If you're in the scene, you know the basics

Patches?

Hand-Stitched

Usually with dental floss for durability/cost efficiency

And originally painted with white-out for the same reasons

Spikes or studs?

Cheap, bulk buy, screw em on yourself

Or just make em out of cans

Hobie's fit looks like it fits the bill

Old leather or denim jacket with the sleeves cut off

FN/SM painted on the back

Shirt's kinda tattered iirc

Spiked collars are easy

Same with the wristbands

When he meets you?

Whoo boy

It was one of his shows he was putting on

New songs, new faces in the crowd

He spots you from a distance at first

Little sketchbook in hand

You stay through his whole performance

When he's chatting up the crowd afterwards, though?

You're already gone

(Bitch writes a song about the pretty thing watching from afar, bc ofc he does)

He next sees you during one of President Osborne's speeches

Standing in the front row of a gathered crowd, shaking your head at the screen

He drops down after a few minutes, hanging upside down and blocking the less-than-pleasant view

He takes a few moments between questions from others

Little explanations

A promise to do what he can

Takes just a glimpse to look you over

You have a similar touch to the rest of the crowd

Worn out boots, tattered clothes, hand-sewn and painted patches

And your sketchbook still in hand

It's a little peculiar for the crowd

But he doesn't question it

What he does question is where you've gone after he turns to look at you

He only took a second for more reassurances

But when he goes to see you again

You're gone, just like the first time you caught his eye

He realizes then

That he's intrigued

He doesn't know what it is about you

Until he keeps seeing you pop up again

Riots

Concerts

Shows

Speeches

His immaterial object of interest

He finally starts actually talking to you the third or fourth time he sees you

At another of Osborne's liefests

An ambassador on a stage, surrounded by punks

Speaking of the President's virtues

Yeah

Spider-Punk shows up pretty quickly to run him off

And gets to chatting with you

When he first approaches, you ask for his opinion on a patch idea

And turn your sketchbook to show him the page

His spider symbol backpiece

But instead of FN/SM, it simply states

"Down With President Osborne"

He takes your pen and signs as a seal of approval before swinging away

Sure, it was a short interaction

But it led to even more meaningful ones

Like, say..

Him practically dropping out of the sky into a park

You were just minding your business, sketching the scenery

When he almost fell on top of you.

Covered in injuries

He laughs when he looks up and sees that it's you

Because of course it's you

Tries to resist when you start futzing over him

If you're the parent friend like me?

Patch him up

PLEASE

Even if you can't see him back together

Just

Bandaids and gauze pads

And maybe some candy

Bc suckers help with creativity

Or it's just my neurodivergence? Idk

Just. Offer him one in case he needs to bite on something while you're putting alcohol on his injuries

When you're done he looks them over

Promptly winces when he twists his arm 🙄

But then thanks you for your help and swings off

Again

These kinds of interactions become common

He'll find you hanging around the city

Either doodling or just vibing

And drops down to talk for a bit

Or get patched up

Loves when you offer to fix his costume

Bc it looks just as nice & homemade as the rest of your/his fits

Grins under his mask when he sees a new patch or two

And starts snickering if you deny their application

He really appreciates everything you do for him

And figures he should prove it

Sure, he's saved you

But he's saved a lot of people..

He wants this to be special

Unique

And he thinks he knows how to do that..

---

Click for next part

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fayes-fics · 1 year

Text

Bella Notte

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: A moonlight lake swim with Benedict

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, innocence/corruption kink, first-time kissing, breast fondling, fingering, penis touching (i.e. first second and third base activities lol), romantic I guess?

Word Count: 2.9k

Authors Note: this is a very overdue fic request for my dear Emmy @iboopedyournose that she sent over DM many months ago. (Request: romantic moonlight swim with Benedict that leads to something steamy 😉😋). I don't know if there's enough romance here. I hope so. Also I’m sorry, I just wrote this now; I'm a bad friend. I hope you enjoy <3 (PS I almost subtitled this Innocence: underwater edition)

It’s after midnight when you and Benedict secretly steal down to the water's edge at Aubrey Hall. This is your first time unchaperoned with your intended; even just meeting him in the dead of night in the hallway seemed thrilling. But when he suggests you go to the lake, your whole body shivers at the prospect—not only for the clandestine time alone but also for the chance to dip a toe into the cool water, such a tempting prospect after an unrelentingly stifling hot July day.

The setting is stunning, the trees surrounding you a beautiful silhouette under a blanket of stars, the milky white waxing moon reflecting upon the mirror-smooth surface of the lake.

Benedict squeezes your hand and catches your eye.

“Shall we?” his buttery voice is such an alluring temptation you can’t resist.

“We shouldn’t…,” you demure.

“That, my dear fiancee, is not exactly a no,” he murmurs, releasing your hand to strip off his shirt, revealing a toned chest that makes you bite your cheek.

“You first,” you whisper, a light breeze ruffling the strands of hair around your face as you watch him raise an eyebrow and reach for the buttons on his britches.

“If you wish to remain innocent, avert your eyes,” he suggests playfully.

You inhale sharply and spin around to face the house, your cheeks aflame, but your eyes cut to the side, half hoping to catch a furtive glimpse of your husband-to-be’s naked body. You hear the rustle of clothing being shed and then the splash of water as he seems to throw himself in bodily. The moan he makes as he surfaces does things to your insides that you don't fully understand, steadfastly still facing away.

“You may turn around now,” he calls, bemused, “I am concealed by the water.”

You slowly spin around to see him standing upright and almost choke. The waterline hugs low on his hips. So dangerously low there is dark thatch of hair peaking above the surface. And above it, acres of toned, muscular, very male torso painted with water droplets. You know you are staring—you know you are probably slack-jawed. Your gaze eventually reaches his face, and it's sin personified. He knows exactly what he is doing to you, teasing you, his hair slicked back against his head, emphasising the handsome lines of his face.

“Are you coming in too, or is this merely a spectator’s sport for you?” he intones, that lopsided grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“You are so troublesome, Mr Bridgerton,” you murmur, trying to school your expression, but you just end up biting your lip, very much wishing for a fan as you feel your face heating.

“I promise nothing untoward,” he offers chivalrously, holding out a hand to beckon you in, “unless you want it,” the dusky addition makes your stomach flip.

He turns around and shoots you a sultry look over his shoulder before jumping up and diving back down into the water in a perfect fluid motion…. Giving you an eyeful of a very pert, very shapely, naked bottom as he does so.

“Dear god…” you exhale, looking skyward, knowing this will test your willpower, but somehow still drawn inexorably towards the water. After all, it has been such a HOT day; this will cool your body like nothing else.

As he swims away, you strip off your light silk robe to your white cotton nightgown and place a foot into the water.

The rocks under your toes are cool, smooth and slightly mossy. It feels heavenly. And so you wade in, the ground falling away fast, and by the time you are four paces from the edge, the water tickles against the apex of your thighs, and you sigh. The cold tamping, the fiery heat you feel there, mainly due to the man making his way back to you in a leisurely breaststroke, a smile on his face.

“So glad you decided to join me,” he lilts. “It's so refreshing, is it not?”

“Yes,” you sigh, moving deeper so the water is up around your waist, your nightdress starting to float up and away from your body. “Such a balm,” you add.

He hums in agreement and tips his head back, looking up at the moon.

“The moon shines bright. In such a night as this. When the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees, and they did make no noise, in such a night.” his delivery wistful.

“Shakespeare,” you breathe, your heart speeding up at the lyrical words he speaks from memory.

“Indeed,” he looks over at you, his eyes soft. “I enjoy nothing more than the truths he reveals so poetically. How he talks of beauty, nature, all the range of human emotions, and love,” he expands, moving closer, little waves of water buffering against your breast as he wades shallower and you deeper, drawn inescapably to him.

He takes your hand from the surface and bends down slightly to kiss the back of it, his warm lips grazing your knuckles a contrast to the cool water dripping from your fingertips. Your breath catches in your throat at this simple move. You want to say something in response, but somehow all of your vocabulary seems inadequate, and you feel quite tongue-tied.

“Come, swim with me,” he prompts softly, pulling you into the deeper water, and you let your feet float up from the ground.

Your nightgown pooling in diaphanous layers around you, the cool water seeping into every crevice of your body, making you feel calm and soothed for the first time since this insatiable heatwave began. You start to move in a leisurely stroke keeping up with Benedict as he glances over and smiles at you encouragingly.

The moon, the sound of water moving gently over your limbs, the rustle of the trees and the trace of scent wafting from the nearby rose garden all make for a wonderous moment, and you roll onto your back, staring at the stars.

“Thank you for this,” you say quietly as you both slow, nearing the middle of the lake.

“It is my pleasure,” he assures.

“It is very romantic,” you murmur, knowing your cheeks blush at your words. “The setting, I mean,” you quickly amend for some reason, somehow reticent to express romantic feelings.

“Not just the setting has to be romantic,” he offers, his voice low as he moves closer again.

You have to put your feet back onto the stony bottom to not feel unmoored by the tone and the sultry look in his eyes. The water is up to your neck almost.

“Benedict,” his name a sigh from your lips, even though you are unsure why you say it. A reflex, a call to him, a warning, even you do not know. All you feel is the heart beating wildly against your ribcage as he crowds into you.

“Y/n,” he purrs, and even in the water, you feel suddenly flushed. “Im going to kiss you,” he whispers, almost a warning, giving you a chance to move away.

Instead, you hold his molten gaze, equally excited and nervous about the prospect. Apart from a few chaste hand kisses, you have done nothing more in all your years on this earth.

“Okay…” you exhale shakily.

And then there is a large hand cupping your whole face, tilting you up to look at him. This close, he is so handsome, all cheekbones and strong jaw. You just freeze like a rabbit in the crosshairs. There is a warm gust of air over your nose as he breathes out, and then soft lips damp land on yours.

Something fires in your chest like a gun, and your eyelids flutter shut. Then he is pressing harder, more insistent, moving his lips against yours. Unsure of what else to do or how to catalogue what is happening, you try to mirror his movements, pushing back with your closed lips up onto your tiptoes—a noise from deep within his body thrills every inch of your being. Arms band tight around your body, you are pulled against a solid warm chest, and your whole world explodes into fireworks behind your closed eyes. You can't help the gasp over his mouth, and his responding deep chuckle vibrates your entire being.

“Darling, I haven't even kissed you properly yet,” his tone dripping with bemusement as he speaks against your lips.

“What do you mean?” you stutter, trying to adjust to being in his strong embrace.

“Do you know what a true kiss feels like?” his question is so dark and smooth it hypnotises you.

“No,” you answer, breathing a little heavy.

“You are about to.”

His lips are back, and this time he opens his mouth, the hot wave of moisture, heat and taste taking you by surprise. His tongue rolls against your lips. You squeak, and on instinct, your mouth opens under his. Now it is massaging against yours, and there is a molten hot tingle between your legs. What on earth is he doing to you? You feel drunk, overwhelmed, just so much taste, sight, smell and just him. It seems apt you are in a lake seeing as you feel like you are drowning in him.

He breaks away slowly, and as you reopen your eyes, he smiles at you.

“How was that?” even you can detect the pride in his tone, knowing exactly how affected you are.

“Wonderful,” you respond honestly, and he beams at you.

And then he is kissing you again. The same passionate way. And then again. Over and over, your lips meet; minutes blur into each other. Exploring each other's mouths, his hand tender on your jaw.

“Would you like to know more?” There is no way you can resist that dark honeyed tone.

“Yes,” you sigh, desperate to understand what awaits you once you are married.

The hand around your jaw slips lower, fingers trailing over your neck as he holds your gaze. You can't look away, but your breath speeds up as that hand feels so heavy travels lower, fingers trailing your collarbone and then sinking lower, mapping your sternum as your chest rises and falls quicker than before. That crooked grin unfurls as he moves his hand to the right and cups your breast over your now translucent nightgown. You inhale sharply as your body responds, blood running hot. And then his fingertips trace over your nipple, and you moan lightly in your throat.

“Yes, darling,” it's gravelly, and his face is one of understanding for your plight and sheer carnal delight that he is the cause.

His other hand moves from around your waist, mapping your side until it mirrors the actions of his other hand on your other breast, and you practically swoon against him.

“Benedict,” you utter his name shakily, his smile turning predatory.

“My darling wife-to-be, your body was made for me,” he murmurs. “Look how well your breasts fit into my hands.”

You bite your lip as you look down at the beguiling site of his huge hands holding your body; something ablaze inside you, liquid and volcanic. It makes you want to pull up and wrap your legs around his body, press him into the middle of your thighs, into that tugging ache.

“Show me more,” you plead, looking into his eyes, watching his pupils rapidly dilate and his tongue dart out to lick his bottom lip.

Then one of his hands moves to the buttons in the middle of your nightgown and flicks open a button. And then another. And another. And another. All the while, his fingers trace the slit of skin revealed down to your navel. His hands land on your shoulders, pushing the two sides of your nightgown apart and sliding it down over your arms.

Under the water, you are now topless. Your skin breaks into goosebumps that have nothing to do with the water temperature but everything to do with the man in front of you.

Then you are wrenched back into his strong embrace and stunned into silence at the feel of his naked chest crushing yours—so solid, so smooth, your nipples pebbling so hard under his contours.

His lips find your neck, and you instinctively wrap your arms around his shoulders, hands mapping the lithe tone, the play of muscle under your fingertips.

You can scarcely believe something this good is possible. You have heard married women talk of needing to submit to the will of their husband's desires. But if this is anything close to what they mean, you wholeheartedly disagree. You want to submit to him utterly. Completely. He can do this to you as much as he wants.

“I will,” he responds fiercely into your skin, and you realise you must have said your last thought aloud. “Darling, I will kiss and hold you and do so many wonderful things every day if you will allow me.”

“You can do whatever you want to me, Benedict,” you vow.

His responding groan right into your ear makes every inch of your body tingle.

“Darling, my sweet, you have no idea what you are saying yet, but god, I hope that is true,” he sounds so fervent, so very overwrought.

“Are you distressed, Benedict?” you blurt out, pulling his face between your hands and looking into his eyes, worried about how agitated he seems.

“No, my love,” he reassures, “this is passion; this is need. I want to do so many many things with you. But we should not until we are married.”

“Are there not things we can do before we are married to help with your need?” so curious to know more.

He leans his forehead against yours and closes his eyes. “I can hold you, and we can touch in places, briefly….” It sounds so taboo your blood runs hot.

“Where?” you breathe onto his cheeks.

“Between our legs,” he mutters back.

“I ache there,” you confess, “when you kiss me.”

He groans again and licks his lips; eyes still screwed shut. “That is wonderful news, my love. That is how it should be; it means you desire me as much as I desire you.”

“How will I know that you desire me?”

He grabs your wrist from around his neck and guides your hand slowly underwater. Then he presses your hand against something large, hard, and entirely unlike what you have between your legs. Your eyes go wide; your mouth falls open. Your hand on hot, steely flesh.

“That,” he rumbles, his eyes flaring open, stare piercing yours, “that is how you know I desire you, my love.”

“Wh.. what is that?” you gasp.

“That is my cock, and when we are married, it goes inside you,” he explains breathily as he presses your palm more forcefully into it, rocking his hips slightly.

“What? Where?” you are completely non-plussed.

He pulls your hand away and slides it between your legs, the layers of your nightgown billowing in a ring around your waist.

“Right here,” he intones softly, and you gasp as he pushes your middle finger up and into your body, his grip on your hand so tight.

“It won't fit,” you fret.

“It will,” he soothes, releasing your wrist, “look, it can take my finger and yours.”

That is all the warning he gives before his long elegant digit plunges into your channel, flanking yours. You inhale staccato in shock and awe at the feeling.

“You are so very tight,” his voice at once reedy, “but I assure you, my love, I will fit. That is the marital act,” he adds, slowly withdrawing his fingers and yours.

“THAT is the marital act?!?” your mind still reeling from what has just transpired. “I have heard rumours that I must allow you to do things to me for ‘the marital act’. But... but I had no idea; I had heard it is unpleasant but short.” you frown, confused.

He huffs a laugh and grabs your jaw, pulling you against him so close his cock brands hot against your belly.

“It shall be neither, I assure you of that. You will demand, and receive, from me pleasure. At length.” Something in the way he says it stokes a fire inside you that cannot wait until that day. “But until then…” he sighs, pulling away, “we must resist further temptation, my love. As much as I want nothing more than to wrap your hand around my cock and push my fingers into your body, it is not fair to defile you as such yet.”

You pout at him as he reluctantly hauls your nightgown onto your shoulders beneath the surface. He has teased you with what awaits, and you are now hungry for more.

But he kisses your lips chastely and turns back to look at the house. “We should probably swim back to shore and depart for our beds. Now that we are cooled down,” he adds with a wink.

“Speak for yourself,” you grouse uncharacteristically, refastening your buttons. “I may well be feeling more flushed now than I was before I stepped into the lake. No thanks to you.”

You have never shown your sassy side to Benedict before, always trying to play the demure fiancee your family has lectured you to be. But with everything that has happened, you feel unable to school your real personality from flaring out of you.

And the look he gives you is everything. It is desire, fascination and surprise all wrapped into one handsome raised eyebrow. You want to bathe in it.

“Oh, Mrs Bridgerton,” your upcoming name dripping syllable by decadent syllable from his lips, “such a sharp tongue. We will have plenty of fun putting that to very good use, I assure you.”

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84

#benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton smut #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x female reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #benedict bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton #bridgerton smut #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x female reader #1k notes #1k notes omg you guys!

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frost-queen · 6 months

Text

The moment I knew // part 7 (Reader!Bridgerton x Tewkesbury)

Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly,@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco,@subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury, @imagines-by-her, @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn, @cayt0123, @powwowsworld, @yomamacrusty, @mileyy22, @omgsuperstarg, @helen06dreamer, @misscaller06, @l4venderia, @dracoflaco, @loliakeoghan23, @emotionaldamageemotionaldamage, @reallysparklychaos, @ok-boke, @the-fifth-marauder7, @asgards-princess-of-mischief, @cherrysxuya

Summary: The social season goes on continuing with another ball. Yet this ball holds some surprises. Will it make a change for the better? [ part 1 & part 2 & part 3& part 4 & part 5 & part 6 & part 8 & part 9 & part 10 ]

Tap

Tewkesbury tapped his finger mindlessly against the hard glass. His mind somewhere else, vision unclear. The upmost bored expression on his face. He heard his grandmother tsk loud for him to change his posture. – “Sit up straight boy!” – she called out as the carriage took a turn, riding on a gravely road. When Tewkesbury wouldn’t move she revealed her fan, giving him a hard slap against the hand with it.

“Au!” – Tewkesbury snapped awake, startled by the sudden whip on his fingers. His grandmother hummed loudly with a glance that it was his own fault. He exhaled deep rubbing his poor fingers. He straightened his posture, leaning back against the fabric as the carriage toggled a bit. His grandmother gave him a look for off judgement. Tsking her tongue again.

Tewkesbury tilted his head slightly knowing she just had a comment burning on her tongue. – “It’s the third ball already. When are you going to show any REAL interest in a young woman.” – she emphasized on the matter of real. – “I sure hope you don’t thinking to form an alliance with that wild girl.”

Tewkesbury knew she was referring to Enola. – “She was quite nice to return my child back to me, but good heavens her features aren’t standard. She has a heart too wild. Marrying a girl like that will only give you trouble, I’ll give you that.” – she spoke glancing out of the window. The skies light dimming out. A greyness colouring all that was bright away for the night to take over.

Tewkesbury turned to look out of the window. Watching the street lights being lighted up with their bright fires. Two men standing on a ladder to give the lantern light. A couple walking arm in arm just passing them by. – “What about the season’s diamond? She isn’t the fairest…” – his grandmother brushed her skirt with her gloves.

“Whatever possessed the queen to chose her. No foul words to her majesty.” – she quickly added as if speaking ill of the queen would cause her harm. – “Yet, she would be a good match. Marrying the season’s diamond always hyphen’s up once’s status.”

Tewkesbury sighed deep as a sign of protest. He wasn’t at all interested in the season’s diamond. There was only one calling his heart, yet she no longer wishes to commit herself to him. Perhaps it was partly his fault. He still didn’t know what possessed him that faithful night at the first ball. He had been exciting all day eager to see you again. A year. An entire year he hadn’t seen you. Only making him yearn for your presence more. It was nice to have you around. His feelings still a bit unclear at that moment. In the beginning it was merely out of boredom.

That was how it all started at the opera. The moment he found a willingly victim to laugh with him. To make the dreadful opera bearable. At first he teased a lot. Playing in on the signals you were sending him. A young girl gushing over a boy. Probably the first boy around her age she had met. As girls at that age were, falling hopelessly in love with each boy that flashed them a smile. Then he started to get to know you better. See more sides of you.

It was perhaps then that he had already started to fall for you, yet it wasn’t known to him yet. A bundle of feelings he couldn’t name yet, tumbling in his stomach. Spiralling and tumbling. It became clear to him the moment you returned the acorn to him. That stupid thing he foolishly had given to you in exchange for his ring. His father’s ring he should’ve never parted from.

Holding the acorn in his hand and watching you dance with someone else made him realize what he was losing. How much nights he had wasted with not being near you. It had created a drift between the two of you. – “No foolish sauntering this time. I expect you to be married off by the end of the season. It is my dying wish.” – she had clasped her hands together, looking up to the ceiling. Tewkesbury scoffed silently.

“To have me out of the house.” – he mumbled to himself. – “What was that boy?” – she snapped at him. – “Nothing grandmother.” – he responded quickly avoiding her stern eyes. – “Thought so.” – she flapped out needing to have the last word. Tewkesbury turned to look out of the window again seeing how much the sky had darkened already. The blinding estate of the next ball coming up in sight.

You had followed your siblings inside. Hand on Anthony’s arm. He sighed loud upon entering. You quirked your lips teasingly up. – “Oh how dreadful it is.” – you acted out dramatically with the back of your hand against your forehead. Your little act made Anthony look at you, puzzled. – “Another ball I have to keep my sisters save from. God forbid they find a match and leave from under my wings.” – you added sounding as silly as you could.

Anthony stared in shock at you as Francesca laughed loud. – “It isn’t funny.” – Anthony told you sternly. It made you press your lips together to withhold yourself from laughing at him. – “Oh come on Anthony.” – Benedict pitched in grabbing him by the shoulder. – “I thought Y/n did a great performance of you.” – he chuckled afterwards squeezing his fingers in Anthony’s shoulder. You let go of him arm, standing in front of him to curtsy as if being applauded.

Anthony brushed Benedict’s hand off him with annoyance. – “Poor Anthony being so teased by his younger siblings.” – Colin interfered wanting to have a say in it. Anthony turned to look at Mother. Violet tried her best to hide her smile, yet failed miserably. To Anthony’s annoyance as he stormed off. – “Oh Anthony don’t be so… it was a mere tease.” – Violet called out going after him.

Benedict came to your side, holding his palm up to you. You pressed your palm against him, snickering at your own tease. Arms locked in you followed mother who tried to reach Anthony. Anthony took halt by a set of vases. Half filled with flowers and peacock feathers. Francesca came running up to him, wrapping her arms around his waist. – “You are so easily teased.” – she said with a smile. Anthony looked up to the ceiling not wanting to give in, but when you joined her.

Wrapping your arms around him at his other side, he couldn’t withhold himself anymore. Holding both of you for a warmful hug. The moment was ruined when Benedict decided to join in from behind, giving him a good squeeze. Nearly making him fall forwards. He nudged his elbow back at Benedict to get him off his back. Benedict let go of him, winking at you. Benedict stretched out making Anthony roll his eyes at him.

“I thought you had learned manner yet.” – Anthony spoke. Benedict lowered his arms from stretching up. – “Oh brother you must know me.” – he chuckled out giving him a hard slap against his back. A gentleman came over around Colin’s age. He invited him for a game of cards. Colin accepted dragging Benedict with him.

You stood with Francesca and mama, watching the dancers. A girl you had met before once came running over. – “They have peacocks in the garden!” – she called out unable to control her enthusiasm. Francesca and you looked at each other with delight and shock. – “Girls!” – Mama called out the moment the two of you started to run. Wanting to get to the gardens and see a peacock for real. – “Oh I wish it would open it’s feathers.” – Francesca huffed out pressing herself between people to get across.

Holding onto her hand tightly, you were behind her, trying to squeeze through those your sister just went passed. You were near the glass doors that lead up to the stone pedestal with steps downwards into the gardens. Many people wished to gaze upon the peacocks to be found in the garden. Francesca and you came to a brief halt as you locked eyes with a certain girl on your right.

The one who had danced with Tewkesbury. Her expression neutral. She went on going through the glass doors as Francesca followed taking the doors on the left. You had remained still, allowing your hand to slip out of hers as she got swept up in the crowd. Somehow the moment seemed ruined. No longer you contained any excitement for the animals. Moving a bit backwards, you went back further in.

Yet you didn’t wish to return to your mother who was clearly searching for Francesca and you. Neither did you wish to return to your brothers. Not even being allowed in the rooms where they played cards and gambled on the side. It was a secret, a hush-hush but everybody knew about it anyways. You decided to leave the ballroom for what it was. The music fading out when you went into the corridor. Most of the doors were closed. Others were open.

A group of people chattering and laughing loud with drinks in their hands. You passed them all feeling no need of entering a room full of strangers without the presence of your brothers. By the end of the corridor you were intrigued by a door partly opened. Not enough to peer inside, but wide enough to see a warmth glow come from inside of it. You neared the door staring through the creak to have a look inside.

Eyes widening at the sight of Tewkesbury. You gasped loud when he suddenly turned around spotting you. It had startled you, making you bump your shoulder against the door and trying to make a run for it. Tewkesbury hastened himself to the door, opening it more. – “Y/n!” – he called out. It made you stop. – “I mean Miss Y/n.” – he corrected himself. You took a step forwards not sure if you wanted to be around him. A second step was impossible as you felt a force keep you in place by your skirt.

Looking over your shoulder down, you saw Tewkesbury’s grip on your skirt. Your gaze went up to meet his. Full of sadness his eyes were. Perhaps yours were too. – “Please…” – he whispered, a hush almost unheard. Taking a deep breath, your shoulders slouched down. Unspoken you followed him back into the room, not sure why you did. The room was not that grand. Rather small. An armchair and small table positioned in the room.

White curtains with patterns on them. Here and there some trinkets. You went to sit down on the armchair, hands folded in your skirt. Tewkesbury stood up straight looking down at a small table. It contained a perfume bottle and a fan. It felt weird. Awkward to say the least. As if you were strangers again. Tewkesbury cleared his throat picking up the perfume bottle. You turned your head to look around the room.

Tewkesbury leaned forwards trying to sniff the smell. Accidently spraying in his face. He coughed loud, waving a hand in front of his face. Setting the perfume bottle back. – “I saw that girl head outside to see the peacocks.” – you said having the urge to cut through the silence. – “Enola.” – Tewkesbury replied as it made you hum confused.

“Oh…” – hearing him say her name made you turn your head away. It felt strange. Strange how your heart still yearned for him. Even in this moment. You wanted to run over to him, leap in his arms and hear him say how much he wants you. Tewkesbury understood the notion of your reaction, looking down at the table. He picked up the fan to occupy himself. – “Where is your suitor?” – he asked. You hummed confused looking up to him. Tewkesbury looked back at you opening the fan with a smooth movement.

It made you blink startled. – “That boy you danced with.” – Tewkesbury flapped the fan at himself keeping his eyes on you. – “I’m sure he has proposed by now.” – He went on unable to stop himself from yearning for you. For hoping you’d contradict his words. As a response you snorted loud. It made him curl up a smile not fully understanding what was this amusingly. – “I’ve danced with him once. Let’s not get too far ahead.” – you responded with a smile.

Tewkesbury’s smile got brighter feeling the tense atmosphere from before falter. – “Besides he’s not a prince.” – you added with a smile. – “Or a Viscount.” – Tewkesbury whispered out of ears reach. – “Enola seems nice.” – you told him. Tewkesbury flashed the fan in front of him again near his cheek. To you unknown, but to him full of words.

“She’s a terrible dancer.” – he commented making you laugh. – “Laugh all you want, I have the bruised toes to speak for me.” – he added as you started to laugh even harder. Hearing your laugh made him smile widely. In this moment it felt like heaven to him. He drew the fan down his cheek again to you. – “What are you doing?” – you questioned seeing it was the third time he had performed it. – “Fanning.” – he responded with a cheeky smile. – “It is hardly warm here… unless you are doing something else…” – you answered.

“Nothing else.” – he muttered out, looking away. Having a sense of time, you got up. Tewkesbury hasting him to your side. – “My siblings must wonder where I am.” – you spoke hearing your heart thump louder in his presence. – “Of course.” – he answered staring smitten down at you. You wanted to open the door as Tewkesbury was ahead of you. Opening it for you and allowing you to walk out. You went on, looking briefly over your shoulder back to him.

Unable to hide the fact you still much desired him. Your plans of marrying him still present, never buried away. You entered the ballroom once more. You watched a few more dances with mama at your side. Then there was a sudden announcement. Maken everyone hasten outside. The sky full dark now. Starless and cloudless. A blank canvas ready to be painted in with delights.

You neared the already standing crowd. Mama spotted Francesca going over to her. Not far from her you noticed Enola. Getting on the tips of your toes, you couldn’t help but see if Tewkesbury was near her. A part of you hoping he wasn’t. Your brothers were coming outside too, laughing loud. Colin holding a little sack in his hands. Probably the coins he had won with gambling.

They were getting behind some people to wait for what was to come. Setting your heels back down, you felt a presence near your right. Slowly letting your gaze go to your right to see who it was. Your heart leaped, expression softening when he stood beside you. Tewkesbury. Staring right back at you. Half a smile on his lips.

A whistle went off followed by a loud blow. It startled you and Tewkesbury as the night sky busted with colours. First a bright red. Then a bright blue. Tewkesbury and you looked up to the sky as the fireworks exploded. Bright yellow, green and red filled the night sky. Colours popping in the air. People were pointing and reacting startled with laughter.

You were amazed by the colours, watching them with excitement. A gentle nudge against your knuckles made you dim your enthusiasm. Trying to figure out what it was doing to you. Another nudge against the back of your hand. Pressing gently against your hand. A tingle went up your spine as you continued to watch the fireworks.

Slowly turning your palm and stretching your fingers out. Fingers glided over yours as they caught your hand. Another firework popped as the green colours reflected on your faces. Two hands intertwined for no one to see. Standing together in a heaven of bright colours.

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levmada · 5 months

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PLEASE write about Levi’s mental state, i’m begging you

He’s faced death and precarious situations since he was born, yet he’s still standing strong and hopeful, WHAT THE HELL I LOVE MY SHORT KING

IT'S FINALLY HERE😭im sorry anon i hope you're around to see this and if u are i hope i dont disappoint

the tone in this analysis is so weird because i kept getting caught between 'this is an apa paper no contractions, academic language, double spacing -' and 'this is a tumblr post about a fictional blorbo wtf r u on'

i also use some scientific language i try my best to explain but if this turns anyone off i don't blame them because im unhealthily obsessed

*i'm a third-year undergraduate psychology student w/ a concentration in psychopathology

tw/cw: discussion of childhood exposure to sex (not assault)

Foreword

I’ve been putting this off for a while (I’m forgetful and this topic is intimidating what can I say), but being a year out from graduating with my bachelor’s to become a mental health professional, and being a Levi scholar(/hj), I wanted to give this a shot.

I wanted to dissect and examine Levi Ackerman’s mental health “currently” (as in general canon), and explain as thoroughly but as simply as possible how and why he thinks and acts the way he does.

Seeing how AOT is pretty renowned for leaving out the ‘insignificant’ details, especially character details, a good majority of my assertions and even details of his life are built off of correlations and “signs and symptoms”; meaning some things could be an aspect of Levi’s personality, or a symptom of psychopathology.

I will examine his childhood (especially his childhood), adolescence, young adulthood, and “present” adulthood, with a short summary at the end of where he might be mentally after the war.

*Lastly, I don’t like it when things I say about a series or character are taken as fact or make it implied that someone else’s thoughts are “wrong”. This is partly built on headcanons anyway, which are influenced by my own experiences. Don’t take away from this that this is me telling you what to think.*

Childhood

The most important period of development occurs in infancy and childhood, especially from the ages of 3-6. This is when a child learns where to find security, love, and basic skills, gaining stability as they develop.

Well, Kuchel died when Levi was 4.

Maternal Love / Learning Empathy / Anxious Attachment Style

Levi was born into deep poverty within a violent unwelcoming environment. Basic physical needs must have been very hard to meet (i.e., consistently fed enough, a clean environment, no physical threats). And where Levi was born is like the dictionary definition of a bad environment for a small child, excluding only his mother’s care and love.

As it’s generally understood in canon (and suggested from Levi’s special backstory manga so far) she was a caring parental figure early in Levi’s life that loved him unconditionally. We can conclude that Kuchel did everything within her power to compensate for both parenting Levi alone and shielding him the best she could from his horrible surroundings, teaching the kindness, goodness, and love that Levi would internalize and go on to strive for for his entire life.

As far as we know, no other children lived in the brothel. Socialization is just as important for a young child as receiving love. With this isolation, it’s extremely difficult to learn how to connect to other people, or pick up on social cues. Levi would’ve never learned how to interact properly with his peers—aside from use of aggression and violence which Kenny would go on to instill in him.

With the danger/anxiety imposed by strangers, mostly if not entirely men, he would turn to his mother for comfort all. The. Time.

And she would give him that support and affection of course. This early motherly affection is integral to child development: a child who receives empathy and affection is subliminally taught how to feel and express empathy towards others.

While Levi’s surroundings were dangerous, lonely, and chaotic—traumatizing enough for a toddler or young child—Kuchel provided a safety net from that, so I think that Levi developed an anxious attachment as a child: exhibiting clinginess, excessive fear of abandonment, and an excessive need for security and/or reassurance.

Paternal Trauma / Potential Androphobia

Born and living in a brothel, we can assume that Levi was probably seen as a burden and a mistake by others, especially by men (both the likely majority of her customers and her boss).

AOT ch69; Before the Fall, ch34

This is likely in contrast to the women (those living and working in the brothel like Kuchel). They should know Kuchel if not as friends, then acquaintances who could empathize for her and her son.

There’s an obvious trend here. If Levi is going to feel fear/danger/anxiety because of men, he should have a general aversion to men and-or the behavior of men who he encountered as a child. This is impossible to know for sure or in meaningful detail, but it seemed to be resolved by the time he became an adult if so.

Although Kenny in his words was no more than Levi's teacher, Levi did see him as a father figure.

The subject of Kenny will be expanded on later, but it's clear Kenny in no way resembled a father, who also would go on to abandon Levi (at the age of 11 or so). Children without father figures tend to struggle more emotionally, psychologically, and socially. Specifically, (especially boys) tend to exhibit intimidating/aggressive personas to compensate for resentment, fear, and unhappiness.

Sexual Trauma (Tangent, Probably)

This is unconfirmed but a likely trauma Levi went through: exposure to sex as a child. There’s no way to confirm what he experienced, so I’ll function on ‘probably’s’ and ‘most likely’s’.

Because Levi and Kuchel only lived in one room, other rooms in the brothel should have belonged to other women, and he was at the oldest four, I wager that he was babysat by women who Kuchel knew and/or was made to hide somewhere while she worked, such as in a cabinet.

(for reference)

AOT ch69

The odds are high that he was exposed to the aftermath of sexual violence (i.e., marks seen on his mother), and the sound or smells that have to do with it. That young, he wouldn’t know what it was, but he should have realized later as an adolescent.

In general, children regardless of gender exposed to sexual content usually experience early puberty (which is just as likely for impoverished children, or children who experience chronic high-stress in general); issues with intimacy; become desensitized to high-risk behavior; negative/inaccurate expectations about sex and relationships in the future; influence inappropriate behavior with other children or adults; sex addiction.

This is especially relevant to Levi’s fear of closeness/intimacy in the future. Exposure to sexual situations—possibly not including CSA in his case—very early in life inflicts on a child emotions and stress they don’t have the intellect or reasoning to process or understand. An extreme aversion to interpersonal relationships, especially physical ones, results.

This stress Levi must have felt, being powerless to this happening to his mother, is a different beast. Children aren’t capable of handling high levels of stress, and so the brain will automatically create coping mechanisms: dissociation (a severe form of “zoning out”; observing the self “from the third person”; numbness; the feeling of living in a dream), excessive daydreaming/overactive imagination, symptoms of PTSD (nightmares and terrors; flashbacks; spontaneous activation of fight-flight-freeze associated with anxiety; excessive worrying/fear; loneliness/self isolation). PTSD will also be prevalent in Levi’s later life, which I’ll delve into later.

Inappropriate behavior and sex addiction are also highlights for me because they shouldn’t exist in him based on Levi's personality and behavior throughout the series. In my opinion, Levi ought to associate sex with pain, shame, and violence; he does see it as an ordinary job—a means to an end. He should be desensitized to sex as a concept, but associates it personally with shame, sadness, and pain, possibly feeling disgust towards it. So it is highly likely that Levi in every stage of life following this experienced sexual repulsion (usually associated with high anxiety towards sex), a low libido, or a lack of sexual desire entirely.

From a trauma perspective, he could avoid sexual topics of conversation, sexual settings (i.e., brothels), or an array of things which are sexually suggestive or he as a child possibly associated with sex (i.e., cleavage, panties, specific touch). Similarly, he might avoid direct reminders or have a post-traumatic reaction to them, such as anxiety or flashbacks (i.e., the sound of a bed creaking, the sight of wet clothes).

Importantly, it can be concluded that sexual violence was often exhibited, and the idea would be ingrained in him that sex, like everything else besides his relationship with his mother, is “give-and-take”, “victim-and-attacker”, and learn to be repulsed by intimacy. This impacts his willingness for later friendships and relationships as we’ll see later.

Early Abandonment & Early Exposure to Death

As Kuchel’s health deteriorated, Levi’s sense of security would break down. Availability of shelter, food, and emotional support would be even less secure than before. He might have been providing for Kuchel for some time, even, as it can be gathered that he received little to no help from those around him while she was sick. To whatever length he had to take responsibility and both fear for Kuchel, this would cement a sense of responsibility and guilt in him from the age of just four years old.

He will fail to save her—regardless of the fact that that’s not his responsibility in the first place; a child wouldn’t understand that—and then lose her with nothing he could do to even cushion the blow.

How powerless he must’ve felt. How hopeless. How likely is it that Levi found comfort in joining her? A child his age wouldn’t be able to comprehend death, basing our understanding on Piaget’s theory of cognitive development. To summarize, at the age of six or seven, children aren’t capable of complex, abstract thought like death or the finality of it. But Levi had to learn early.

AOT ch69

This will be center in his “clean-freak” tendencies later.

Adolescence

Most of this section is going to be rather vague again, but we already got the bulk of that over with in childhood!

Emotional Train Wreck / Lack of Identity

It’s hard to notice if you’re not paying attention, but in every scene we’re shown with Levi after his mother dies but before Kenny leaves, he’s wearing some variation of his mother’s one dress styled into a shirt. He loves her endlessly, even or especially in death. And part of cherishing her memory, to him, should’ve been taking after her as much as he could.

That’s how to explain why he didn’t become a cruel person (Kenny for instance) as he grew into a teenager, even though much of Levi’s outlook and behaviors come from him (ch57).

The more pertinent question is how extreme violence, reinforcement of the idea that that violence is power, and Kenny’s total (or most likely total) lack of communicated emotional connection affected him.

Levi would still desperately want that connection deep down, especially with his mother gone. This is a major reason why Levi sought to get stronger to please Kenny. For chronically abandoned people, that continues into adulthood and even beyond. A hole inside which can't be filled.

AOT ch69

Chronic loneliness—like I explained before—basically explains his aloof nature and awkward disposition. It’s not that Levi feels as detached as he looks, but he doesn’t know how to express himself or open up. He wouldn’t learn how to process his emotions, let alone talk about them. He’s basically emotionally stunted and immature in impersonal relationships (between friends and especially in regards to intimacy).

The Underground’s environment also makes him socially awkward, rude, of course stoic/not very expressive, and blunt. Levi was forced to become extremely observant of people to suss out their intentions, remaining vigilant of his surroundings at all times.

Levi doesn’t even get affection in any sense anymore. He doesn’t get a hug or a pat on the back, and he certainly doesn’t get a shoulder to cry on.

If anything, Kenny would punish him for showing weakness. Vulnerability is weakness; weakness is death.

What results is a continuous and boundless sense of emptiness inside that can’t be filled. He’s plagued by a chronic sense of unbelonging and loneliness. There’s no time or opportunity to develop “normally” as an adolescent. Socialization is limited at best; thinking of his place in the world is irrelevant when his one and only most pressing goal is survival; he doesn’t get to explore hobbies or interests.

OCD Propensity

One “interest” Levi is passionate about is cleaning, at least. Disease is what caused his mother to die. The easiest cause to point to would be their disgusting surroundings (although, Kuchel was infected by a customer). It is canon that Levi’s love of cleaning comes from "his personal experiences". In that interview, Levi first specifically references the important of fighting disease.

In other words, his "clean freak" nature comes, primarily, from the death of his mother: Filth -> disease -> death, and abandonment by extension.

His mother would’ve encouraged him to keep their room clean. There were times he or she had to have come down with something and dirtiness was the cause. On top of Kenny’s enforcement to keep up “clean” appearances to garner respect from everyone else in the Underground.

This in particular is extremely relevant to his mental health. When someone feels out of control of what is happening to them, especially in a recurring way, and especially as a child who doesn't yet know how to feel stable in an unstable environment, they look for something to control. It can be weight, bodily functions (blinking, breathing, etc), dominance over others, or cleaning, for instance.

Fear of disease, the urgent need to have control, and the basic need for stability makes it obvious that Levi would become obsessed with cleaning. And moreover, developing OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder). I’ll go deeper into this diagnosis later.

Lack of Self Worth

Despite the acknowledgment throughout canon that he trusts in his own strength, it wasn’t always that way.

Canonically, Levi sought praise from Kenny by showing his strength because that was the only thing he received praise for. The conclusion Levi came to once Kenny left him was that he wasn’t strong enough (wasn’t good enough) to warrant staying with him.

In conjunction, Levi’s first conclusion was that he did something wrong, not that Kenny possibly had some obligation that forced him to leave the Underground, pointing again to his own lack of self-worth.

This scenario created a complex in him, the very root cause of Levi’s pain, the very foundation of what Levi would go on to prioritize in adulthood. If he isn’t useful to those he wants not to abandon him, he’s worthless. He’s only useful when he shows his strength. Every other aspect of him like his interests is either irrelevant or bland by default in his eyes.

He would go on to make it his mission to try his best to be good enough in order to save and protect the lives of others, but foremost those he cares about.

Young Adulthood

Our first exposure to Levi as an adult is in A Choice with No Regrets, his OVA/backstory.

(By the way, I’ll be basing this analysis off a mix of the manga and the OVA.)

Emotional Immaturity/Affective Dysregulation

Generally, Levi’s defining negative character trait as a young adult is his emotional immaturity/anti-social behavior. Yes he’s grumpy and rude which is always indicative of him, but he’s very quick to anger, too. He cursed at the Squad Leader who offended him (by assuming that because he, Isabel, and Farlan are from the Underground, they’d be dirty), and argued furiously with Farlan that he would kill Erwin—not because it was required for the job, but because he disrespected him—for a few examples.

ACWNR ch2

He tended to be arrogant, too. Such as when he ultimately called a Scout who had experience with the Titans stupid for telling Levi to hold his swords in a certain way. He spoke to every officer the same as he would anyone on the street, having a remarkable lack of basic respect for authority. He was insistent on distancing himself from the entire setting and structure of the Scouts as much as possible, both to not get attached, and he found their mission childish/foolish.

He’s rather selfish. There is nothing Levi cares about genuinely more than Isabel’s and Farlan’s lives and the job that will set them up with a good future. Farlan’s advice is the only one’s he takes and the only judgment outside himself that he considers, such as when Farlan asks him to not cause trouble with authority to keep a low profile, but even then he acts stubborn. Levi trusts nobody wholeheartedly except himself (until later in ACWNR).

There’s a cognitive dissonance in him. Growing up, and still as a young adult, Levi’s headspace is marked by fear and uncertainty, with his power as his source of confidence. The first time he kills a Titan (with Isabel and Farlan), he uses too much gas because he refuses to potentially risk his friends’ lives; when the expedition is upcoming, he abruptly tells Farlan and Isabel to find a reason to stay back, and that he’ll complete the dangerous part of the job on his own.

Levi is full of repressed fear and uncertainty. He hides and/or buries all of it for the sake of self-preservation both emotionally and physically.

Antisocial Personality…?

It’s extremely interesting how a character as selfless, heroic, and empathetic as Levi exhibits antisocial symptoms. I’d even argue that if his childhood was spent entirely without his mother figure, then he might be a dictionary definition of ASPD (Antisocial Personality Disorder).

People with this disorder live day-to-day under the constant assumption that whoever is around them is “out to get them”/searching for a weakness to exploit. Humanity is made up of only prey and predators; morals are completely subjective, perpetuated by the society that surrounds them. This constant need to defend oneself, the effect of the exact trauma the potential sociopath experienced, combined with a muted emotional spectrum, results in a complete disregard of everything, including people outside of themself. They might believe they’re entitled to comfort or admiration, but overall, they’re intensely self-serving, often aggressive, and ruthless.

Because Levi for instance learned to rely on violence both for “love” and survival, then he might fall on violence to manipulate a person or situation into serving himself. I see reason to believe that Levi could have grown into worse than Kenny’s image if it weren’t for his mother’s influence.

However, the greatest cause for deniability is Levi’s wide emotional spectrum (especially including empathy and shame), while a lack of shame is the most significant marker of ASPD . (It is arguably one of many testaments to his strength that a victim of so much suffering, violence, and cruelty could become a man as empathetic as him.)

However, these tendencies may still be relevant: A sense of arrogance—both to the way Levi thinks of some who he perceives as weak and live without good morals—lacking issue with using deceit or violence to attain a goal, and living outside the rule of authority.

I go into more detail about this idea here.

Conclusion

As is true in general, there’s very little to say of mental development once someone has reached their early–mid-twenties. What we know of Levi’s young adulthood does reinforce his fear of abandonment, but he finds a cause where his strength and compassion can be “put to good use” and give to him a life that is worth living.

Conclusion: the ‘Present’/Diagnoses Overview

C-PTSD (Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder)

Levi’s emotional dysregulation (i.e., inability to sit with and process negative emotions), his difficulties in relationships, insomnia, negative worldview, absent sense of self, and finally, his persistent sense of unworthiness/worthlessness are all indicative of C-PTSD. It’s distinct from PTSD in that he didn’t endure one short-term traumatizing event, but he grew up surrounded by trauma and saw it as normal (e.g., gang violence, extreme poverty, death of a parent, (more presumably) physically and emotionally abusive parental figure). Levi as a child developed no understanding of a nurturing, secure environment.

Negative/Absent Sense of Self

I’ve talked about this at length already, but it’s worth noting how Levi’s perception of himself must have changed when it was revealed that he is extremely strong physically not from his own efforts as much, but because he’s an Ackerman.

His self-confidence and self-worth have always been built on the foundation of his strength. He’s useful if he’s strong, so he’s worthy if he’s strong. Along with the extreme high pressure his goal to kill Zeke put on him in season four, he might have gone to extreme measures to compensate for his strength he might have felt was “unearned” (such as excessive exercise for example). This is an aside, but it was a blow to him for sure.

Emotional Dysregulation

The causes of emotional dysregulation generally which he experienced are as follows: early childhood trauma, feelings ignored, judged, or invalidated at a young age, and physical and emotional child neglect. Beyond his first four years of life with his mother, Levi experienced all these things (early exposure to sex and likely exposure to domestic violence aside).

It’s important to focus on emotional neglect specifically, when any and all perceived “weakness”, no matter how small, is unacceptable to Levi. He will never ask for help (being independent to a fault), he can’t define or process his emotions, and it doesn’t occur to him—and it could be a shock—when he learns that his friends care about him, not him insofar as how useful he is.

As an adult, Levi appears to be emotionally mature, but I argue that this isn’t the case. It’s more accurate to say that he has better control over his emotions (in that he buries them or ignores them) with a mature outlook because of all his experiences with suffering.

Similarly, he’s not outwardly emotional not because he’s antisocial (as related to ASPD, not introversion), but because he’s so “emotionally constipated” that he’s numbed the vast majority of the time.

Relationship Issues + Fear of Abandonment

Because of his fear of abandonment and impaired emotional intelligence in close relational conflict, he’s extremely passive and/or passive aggressive. In order to avoid potential abandonment, he doesn’t go out of his way to win major arguments—such as threatening to break Erwin’s legs if he didn’t stay away from the expedition in season three, but ultimately giving in. He’s also more likely to sneak petty insults into arguments, give “silent treatment”, slam doors, etc. His kindness and exceptional empathy shouldn’t let him be physically or overly violent.

These are likely additions to why Levi doesn’t foster many close relationships.

Fittingly, as a child I thought that Levi might have had an anxious attachment style (clingy, excessive need for security), but as this possibility for security was removed entirely, and he was taught to not rely on others, he would develop more of an overt avoidant attachment in adulthood in combination (fearful-avoidant): making very few emotional demands—even though he has needs—withdrawing when there’s conflict, acting aloof yet fearing abandonment, having difficulty expressing emotions he feels intensely, and fear of depending on someone else.

Anxiety

His cool-headedness even in the heat of battle/war (other factors like experience aside) is exactly what you would expect from someone diagnosed with C-PTSD; he’s accustomed to chronic high-stress. But small stressors (i.e., a change of plans) are overwhelming and make him quick to anger/excessive annoyance.

OCD

Emotional dysregulation is also closely associated with OCD.

OCD is much much more than being concerned with keeping clean or organized. OCD is an anxiety disorder composed of anxiety-related obsessions and compulsions, such as frequent and disturbing thoughts or images (intrusive thoughts). These attempt to be managed through rituals (i.e., handwashing, counting in patterns). Although symptoms will fluctuate with anxiety, OCD at its baseline is a distressing disorder.

Since he was young, Levi should have had an incessant need to be in control at all times. A shining example of this is his mother’s death, an incident he couldn’t control but included dirtiness/disease as a cause he could pinpoint, so this anxiety with dirtiness becomes a major obsession, and the compulsion is cleaning. (Putting aside the fact that Levi enjoys cleaning by itself too.)

It’s a widely-held belief that if Levi has OCD, it’s contamination OCD, as it specifically has to do with an obsession with dirtiness and a compulsion in cleaning (i.e., damaging handwashing, ritualized bathing that may take hours). However, based on the multitude of times Levi was covered in blood and remained unbothered by it (Titan and human), and in fact the obsession’s lack of relevance entirely during urgent missions/situations, contamination OCD is simply not plausible. Instead, it’s general OCD.

There’s no way to know for sure, but I don’t see his OCD as mild or severe. Levi is an extremely orderly and balanced person, so it can be concluded he must have things done a certain way, routinely, organizational, or planned; when the dirtiness is “negative” (i.e., Titan blood, blood on a knife he used to kill Isabel’s attackers), he is never more rigid with cleanliness; it’s probable he suffers intrusive thoughts (likely of the violent nature), a fear of contamination, and/or counting ritualistically, but the most obvious compulsion is cleaning. He might have sensory issues, such as disgust if he happens to brush shoulders with a stranger; aversion to particularly bright lights, irrational rage towards “mouth sounds” (i.e., chewing, coughing, swallowing), etc.

EDNOS (Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified)

Levi should have a complicated relationship with food to say the least.

In the realm of eating disorders, EDNOS is sort of a catch-all term when an individual doesn’t qualify for the diagnostic criteria of anorexia or bulimia, and it encompasses lesser-known eating disorders like Pica. It’s the most common diagnosis for clinical eating disorders.

I already covered how integral the early years of life are, and beginning at a young age, if children aren’t given a basic need like food, and they must seek out food on their own, it becomes an anxiety deeply rooted in the brain regardless of how well-fed they are when they’re older. There will always be an urge to have food available. Levi’s years in the Underground were spent either actively starving, or going about every single day having acquiring food as top priority. He was a young adult when he left, so it’s impossible to unlearn this (without extensive therapy, which Levi doesn’t seek). It’s similar to compulsions found in OCD: even though he logically knows that there will be a dinner after lunch, it’s impossible to put aside this worry.

That may mean always having food stashed, eating too much—especially in his early years Aboveground when he’d eat as much food in a day than he’d eat in a week Underground— stealing food, or eating way too quickly (as someone who lived in a place where food was considered something of a luxury resource and threatened being stolen at any time).

The latter factor contributes to Levi’s suggested preference to only eat alone—joining the fact that Levi only eats with Erwin after expeditions. Eating in front of others should be considered a weakness to him.

As time passes with this easy access to food, combined with his extremely narrow sense of what makes him “good enough”, his relationship with eating may become toxic. Especially when the stakes of his worthiness are so high—literally life and death. He may think that he’s privileged to eat at all, and when he feels worthless, he restricts himself from that “privilege”.

He may be so accustomed to the feeling of hunger, that it doesn’t immediately register with his mind when he is hungry.

Lastly, he may have a generally low appetite. This is often associated with depression, but depression is comorbid with C-PTSD.

Misc.

Some tangents/miscellaneous speculation about Levi’s psychology:

Queer?

Sexuality is formed and shifts due to a wide variety of factors, which most if not all are terribly understudied: genetics, hormones, and your environment/experiences. So again, my speculation.

With his fear of close relationships and negative experiences with sex, I think he should land somewhere on the queer spectrum, specifically under the asexual or aromantic umbrella (i.e., pansexuality/being panromantic (attraction to personality) and demisexuality/being demiromantic (attraction only to those he has an emotional connection to)).

MDD

The odds of Levi having MDD (major depressive disorder/clinical depression) are iffy. Most if not all of the symptoms are comorbid with childhood trauma and C-PTSD: Such as persistent apathy, guilt, and/or discontent; sleeping too much or too little; lack of energy; reduced or heightened appetite; irritability.

Oftentimes, depression, C-/PTSD, and related mental illnesses cause unexplained physical pain, such as back pain and occasional tension headaches. “Stress hormones” like adrenaline are built-up in the body, and usually persist without physical therapy and-or medication (Disclaimer this mention is based on nothing more than Levi always standing with at least one hand on his hip).

Body Language

Similar can be said of his body language from a cognitive perspective. The vast majority of the time, Levi has himself closed-off in some way, usually by crossing his arms to protect his chest; a subconscious barrier between oneself and another person.

Also see this official art of Levi asleep.

Afterword

We’ve known it’s not just Levi’s physical strength and skill that makes him the strongest, right? It should take immense mental strength to make it day-by-day dealing with the trauma and issues that he does, but not only has he survived and continues to, but he lives heroically, selflessly, with the wellbeing of everyone around him as a top priority. He buries all of his pain by moving forward always and without exception regardless of how painful the present is. Living with “no regrets” should in mental respects be a guise for pushing his trauma down, too; there’s just no words that can properly do Levi’s resilience justice.

Part of me wants to go into detail about his later adulthood, but given how very little we know (right now), I think it’d be too speculative.

However, based on what we have seen at the ending of AOT, it’s comforting to know and plain to see that Levi wasn’t defeated when he “lost” the reason to be so strong, and even his strength itself; he didn’t lose his love for his friends nor of life.

In middle age, based on Erikson’s psychosocial stages, the conflict that should enter Levi’s life is the idea of generativity versus stagnation. He seems satisfied with his life despite the negative effects of all he went through—grief, physical disability, inevitable mental scarring—and he’s still concerned with helping others, especially the younger generation in a world after the overwhelming devastation that was the Rumbling.

My speculated psychopathologies/diagnoses of Levi:

C-PTSD (insomnia prevalent)

OCD (contamination obsessions)

EDNOS

#levi aot #snk levi #levi ackerman #levi attack on titan #captain levi #captain levi ackerman #aot levi #aot levi ackerman #attack on titan levi #aot meta #levi heichou #rivaille heichou #levi rivaille #rivaille ackerman #lance corporal rivaille #levi snk #levi.thoughts #aot #attack on titan

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ivystoryweaver · 1 month

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3 Times Jake Lockley Tried to Kill You and 1 Time He Saved Your Life

Part 2 of 4: Gun

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Pairing: Jake Lockley x f!reader

Summary: Jake creates a second chance to get the job done

Or: Will you get a new toy to play with?

Word Count: 1.8k

Content: Read all series warnings on the miniseries masterlist! nsfw, mdni, more below the cut

Part 2: Power imbalance, kidnapping, violence, language, stalking, very extremely dirty gun play, danger, masturbation, not beta'd

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

A week passed before you left your penthouse.

Jake’s boss was not a patient man, but Jake convinced him that you were unreachable for a few days, and that he was on it. He sent new surveillance pictures to calm the man down, assuring him he would take care of the problem.

He wanted to wait longer. You were hurt, after all. No way you’d completely recovered from a stab wound, but you seemed determined to get back to your life. Of course, why did he care if you were fully recovered or still hurting if he was only looking for another opportunity to kill you?

Unfortunately, your inept bodyguards Dumb and Dumber added a third. So…Dumb and Dumber and Dumbest?

He only made things worse for himself for letting you live, but you got under his skin, plain and simple.

Another week passed before he could get you alone again, and it took practically 24/7 stalking to find his moment.

So…he had definitely descended into creep behavior.

Time to get this over with.

He found you in the park again, walking instead of jogging this time. Maybe your side still hurt.

The Dummies lingered close by, but Jake could handle a challenge.

He walked right by you with a nonchalant stroll, and pushed a gun into your (not wounded) side, ushering you into his car before your idiot bodyguards could react.

Despite your fantasies about this man over the past two weeks, terror flooded your body as he steered with one hand and held you at gunpoint with his other.

His clean shaven face momentarily distracted you - perhaps his first intelligent decision. He should at least try to hide from your father, and even a slight alteration to his appearance could prove helpful. His strong, sharp jawline and pliable lips made him seem simultaneously more approachable and somehow deadlier.

“Got your present,” he smoothly intoned. The corner of his mouth curled. “Brought you a new one to play with.”

“Okay. Okay,” you gasped, holding out your hands defensively. “If you’re trying to scare me, it’s working, all right? Just…do what you’re gonna do. You're scaring the shit out of me.”

Jake tutted, but kept his eyes on the road. “You really have a death wish, don’t you, Princesa?”

“Don’t call me that,” you spat. “My father calls me that. His princess.”

Probably not a great idea to bring up your father to the man who wanted revenge against him.

Jake held his tongue, driving in silence for another few minutes. Finally he pulled the car into a parking garage and drove down the bottom level, below street level, before turning off the engine and looking over at you.

“How are you feeling?” He asked you with a certain tenderness in his coffee colored eyes, as if he actually might care.

“What? Why the fuck do you care how I’m feeling?” You snapped. “You have a gun in my face and you stabbed me. I feel like shit. Like - terrified, impatient shit, thank you very much.”

“There it is,” he appreciatively chuckled. “I didn’t think one little stab wound would turn you into a damsel.”

“You’re a fucking idiot,” you clapped back, feigning courage. “Shooting someone is a hard crime to cover up. But I’m sure you know that because you look like the kind of asshole who does my father’s dirty work. You really want me splattered all over the inside of this piece of shit you call a car?”

Jake shoved the barrel of his gun right between your eyes. “You’re calling my car a piece of shit? That’s reason enough to pull the trigger, muñeca. We don’t all have daddy’s blood money to buy us toys.”

Despite your feistiness, a loaded gun between your eyes did give you pause. Your lips trembled as Jake dragged the gun down your nose to your mouth.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he murmured, tracing the fullness of your parted, panting lips with his weapon. “Shame I have to kill you.”

If someone paid you a billion dollars, you would never be able to puzzle out why you did it: but your tongue darted out to lick the barrel of his gun.

Jake locked eyes with you as you swirled your tongue around the cool metal. “You know how to use one of these, baby?” He purred, pushing the gun into your mouth.

You nodded slightly, body trembling as you wrapped your lips around the barrel, accepting it all the way to the back of your throat until you gagged.

Jake groaned, easing the gun back toward your lips, almost completely removing it from your mouth before fucking it back into your wet, waiting cavern. You started to bob your head, sucking the weapon like a cock, eyes locked on his as he shoved it over and over again…

…to the back of your throat, gagging you, to the front of your lips until drool spilled out the corners of your mouth.

“Good girl,” he rasped, finally removing the offending metal from you completely.

Your lust-soaked panties didn’t prevent you from collapsing in a small measure of relief after your wild but dangerous display. He could have blown your head off, even by accident, and still probably intended to.

“You didn’t answer me,” he chided, using the gun’s barrel to lift your chin back up, forcing you to look at him. “I can see you know how to use that pretty mouth, but do you know how to use this?”

Shaking your head quickly, you wanted to scream as he condescendingly chuckled. “Of course not. You are a princess. Here.” Shoving the thing into your trembling fingers, he made sure to turn on the safety. He reached for your opposite hand, correctly positioning your grip in his gloved hands.

“Two hands, like this,” he instructed. “No action movie bullshit.”

His eyebrows shot up, waiting for you to respond. You slowly nodded.

“It’s loaded, but - " Positioning your finger by the safety, he showed you how to use it correctly. “Safety first. Don’t ever take the safety off unless you have a plan to get rid of a body.”

“Why?” You gasped, your hands dipping under the weight of the weapon as he finally removed his own. “How do you know I won’t shoot you?”

And he smiled. “I don’t.”

“I will,” you huffed, shoving the gun into his chest. “I’ll do it.”

Jake wet his lips, his eyes darkening as he cocked his head to the side. “Take it. You need a new toy to play with tonight, when you’re thinking about me.”

“You asshole - "

“You started this,” he lowly growled, “by sending me that knife instead of giving it to daddy.” His voice dropped an octave as he leaned in, his breath ghosting your lips. “I bet you shove this gun in your pussy the way you let me shove it into your mouth,” he taunted, slowly reaching up to put his hand over yours before pushing the gun down between your legs.

You whimpered, thinking this was it. He was about to shoot you right now.

“Safety’s on, baby,” he leaned in and breathed on your ear, pushing the gun lower until it rested over your panties.

“You’re wet right now, aren’t you?” He taunted, slowly rubbing the gun back and forth.

“Dammit, I knew you were a pervert,” you whispered, unable to muster a convincing amount of guile.

Jake immediately removed his hands, holding them up as if surrendering. “I’m never going to touch you like that until you ask me to.”

“I’ll fucking kill you first,” You growled, shoving the gun back into his chest.

He easily disarmed you, pointing the gun right at your head. “Get out.”

Shit. Shit, this was it. “I-if those are my last words, I can do better.”

He actually laughed. “Get the fuck out.”

He waited until you opened the car door before deftly removing the magazine and tossing the pieces out behind you. “Keep it. Someone’s trying to kill you.”

Reaching over to close the door, he peeled out of the parking garage, leaving you there alone. And armed. Sort of.

“Asshole!” You screamed after him.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

You dreaded your bodyguards questioning where you went and why you suddenly had possession of a weapon. But when they finally got your call, you decided to turn the tables, letting them know that if your father found out you were missing today, on their watch, he would use the gun in your hand to put holes in the backs of their heads.

They left you alone.

You were reeling by the time you got back to your penthouse, but inevitably, nighttime came.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” The smooth velvet of his voice echoed in your head. “Good girl…I bet you shove it in your pussy…”

You weren’t about to shove a loaded gun anywhere in your body, so you left the magazine out and took off all your clothes, sliding under the sheets.

“Take it. You need a new toy to play with tonight, when you’re thinking about me..”

You dragged the barrel of the gun across your hard nipples, just the way you played with the knife. The simple memory of his voice had you soaked already.

“I fucking hate you,” you whispered into the dark, somehow wishing he could hear you as you plunged the gun’s barrel into your dripping cunt.

“Oh fuck…” The metal wasn’t as forgiving as one of your toys, but your pussy clenched and quivered just the same, knowing he predicted you would fuck yourself with his weapon - that he hoped you would.

With two fingers, you circled your clit, wishing you could pant his name as you writhed and fucked down harder, but…

you still didn’t know him.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Jake waited a few days, wondering if you’d send the gun back to him, covered in your juices, but maybe you’d wised up. If you had any sense at all, you’d give it to the police, but he was certain you wouldn’t.

His employer was growing impatient.

And even Jake didn’t understand why he was dragging his feet...except that seeing you sent a thrill jolting through him he couldn't understand.

But time to get this shit done or it would be him at the bottom of the river. The fire in your voice as you snapped back at him like a wounded animal...the memory of the rise and fall of your breasts as you pretended not be afraid of him - the misplaced desire in you to be brave, even though no one in your life cared enough to teach you basic self-defense or how to handle a firearm... You were not the victim here. Your family made victims. He couldn't be your savior.

It was you or him.

So no more games.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

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