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asumofwords · 8 months

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The Sublet - Roommate!AU

Warnings: She/her pronouns, slow burn, angst. Tags will be added as the fic goes along. Fighting, Aemond being an asshole, fingering, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, degradation, hair pulling, spanking, daddy kink.

Pairings: Modern!Aemond x Reader

Summary: Living with Helaena Targaryen was one of the best decisions you had ever made. Meeting at university, the two of you became thick as thieves and quickly best friends, moving into a flat together. But what will happen when Helaena has to leave, and her quiet, brooding, brother moves in?

Notes: Okay so, two things. I should preface this by telling you all that Harold Holt was an Australian Prime Minister who went swimming and never came back. It was assumed he drowned, or got eaten by sharks, or if you want to go with the more fun conspiracy theories, got abducted in a submarine. But to do a Harold Holt is basically to do a runner, no show, disappearance with no word, smoke bomb, etc. Hope you get it now lol. Secondly, the song Aemond is listening to is from one of my longtime fav bands who I got to see live! The song is ‘Kletka - Molchat Doma’ and its such a vibe, anyway, thanks for your patience on the update! Its a long ass chapter because I don't know how to stop.... Enjoy <3

Chapter 6: Lapse in Judgement

Waking up the next morning was something that you had dreaded the moment you ran and hid in your room, diving beneath your sheets as your heart raced and your core throbbed.

Your fingers had grazed your lips, sensitive from the bruising kiss he had pulled you into.

Fuck.

You had kissed Aemond.

And Aemond had kissed you.

You had felt the phantom feeling of his fingers on your core and had tossed and turned all night, desperately trying to ignore the heartbeat that settled between your thighs and the mounting anxiety that followed.

What would Helaena say?

When you woke that morning, the turning of your stomach began almost immediately, anxiety winding its way higher and higher, palms sweating, knowing that you would have to face the music and exit your room.

A small headache had formed behind your eyes from the alcohol, but it was barely noticeable in comparison to your racing thoughts. Or perhaps the cause for your headache was the conundrum you now found yourself in.

Note to self, no more Porn Star Martinis if a handsome and brooding man was in your apartment.

You dressed, and ran to the bathroom, noticing Aemond’s door was open.

When you looked at yourself in the mirror, there were bags beneath your eyes, and your hair a mess from tossing and turning all night. You paid careful attention to concealing the dark shadows and fixing your hair before you took a steady breath and exited the loo.

You expected Aemond to be gone for his morning run as he usually was, as the creature of habit he seemed to be, door open and all that, but nope, fate had other plans for you. Aemond stood, in his over six foot glory in the kitchen, mug in his hands as he looked out the window. He was dressed in his running gear, grey shirt today and his hair was down, cascading over his shoulders, strands tucked neatly behind his ears.

On your approach, he lifted his head to look at you.

You swallowed dryly, feet stumbling slightly against the floor boards as you made your way over, heat rising in your cheeks. You were mortified, and beyond that, ashamed.

Ashamed of who it was.

Ashamed of how you had acted.

Ashamed that it was Helaena’s brother.

And ashamed that you had liked it.

You had to tear your face away from his gaze, diverting your eyes to the floor as you made your way over, picking up the kettle to make yourself your morning tea. You didn’t greet him verbally, too unsure of what to do, and so you gave him a soft nod.

A sliding sound caught your attention.

You took your eyes from the sink, and beside you on the bench, Aemond had pushed with two knuckles a mug of tea towards you.

It was your favourite mug, and it looked like he had managed to make it perfectly.

You blinked up at him, putting the kettle back in its holder and reaching for the tea. Your fingers grazed over his momentarily, heart racing as you took the mug from him. Warmth spread through your chest and you swallowed.

“I’m sorry.” You breathed, picking up the mug to your lips, “I, uh,” You let out an awkward chuckle, “I think I had one too many martini’s last night.” Another awkward laugh, and then the words didn’t stop, Oh god, “Sara took me to this new bar, and it was so cool, it actually reminded me a bit of you. We had one drink aft-“

“-Don’t worry about it.” Aemond interrupted your anxious rambling, his cool gaze on you, face blank.

You nodded and sipped at the tea.

Your heart raced in your chest.

It was perfect.

“Thanks for the tea. And for dealing with me last night.” Another awkward laugh, you lifted the mug towards him.

Aemond hummed, looking away to sip at his coffee, the strong smell of the beans surrounding you.

You stood together in the quiet of the kitchen, awkward energy surrounding the both of you before he set down his empty mug. He stepped closer, his chest almost bushing yours. Your breath caught in your throat as his hand reached forward.

And then over you to turn on the sink, a small ‘excuse me’ falling from his lips as he rinsed his mug and placed it into the dishwasher.

Your cheeks felt hot and you sucked in a shaky breath.

Aemond didn’t speak another word, and turned away from you, heading towards the front door as he pulled out his AirPods and placed them in his ears. He disappeared down the hall, and the last thing you heard was the keys being pulled out of the dish, and the door opening and closing.

You let the breath you had been holding in out in one big gust. Hand moving to rub at your neck awkwardly.

What the fuck was that?

The day droned on as it would with Larys hovering over your shoulder as usual. It didn’t help that you had not heard a word from Gwayne Hightower, and were swamped with endless calls from investors and clients whom he had meetings with and didn’t show.

“Do you know where Gwayne is?” You leant over your desk, looking to the one next to yours, a solicitor names Jasper Wylde watching at you with steely eyes.

His curly hair shifted as he turned to face you, dark beard trimmed perfectly against his chin, “No clue. He may be at the magistrates office. Got a text from Tyland this morning saying that something went down at the case this morning.”

You sighed loudly, leaning back in your chair, “That’s the last thing we need. How come Tyland texted you and not me? I’ve got calls coming out of my ass from angry and disgruntled clients about Gwayne missing their meetings.”

Jasper shrugged, “You know what Tyland is like, useless at the best of times.”

You snorted and rolled back to your desk.

Jasper was nice, stiff, but nice.

He took his job very seriously, and Tyland Lannister often called him Ironrod as a joke. Though he was older and a complete professional, it didn’t stop him from sending an occasional flirty glance your way, or rise of his dark brows.

Recently divorced.

You knew he had had four wives, all ending in divorce, and multiple kids with each one. You didn’t know how he had the time to support them all, let alone spend time with them. But he did, and you had been surprised when you first started and saw the pictures pinned to his cubicle of all his kids.

There was, at the very least, ten.

Ironrod might be more fitting for something else.

By the time the day ended, you had slumped in your chair, sighing loudly as you packed away your things. You turned to look at Jasper who was still working.

He never followed the clock ‘off at five’ rule you had, and would often stay behind to get everything perfect.

A real stickler for law.

You walked to the train station and jumped on the next one that rolled slowly into the subway. On your way home, your anxiety flared again. You hadn’t even answered Helaena’s texts asking about how you were and how Aemond was. Each time your fingers hovered over the notification a wave of guilt would crash over you.

You didn’t even know how to respond to it. What could you say? ‘Everything is great! It’s super awkward, but so fine. By the way, did I mention that I almost let your brother take me against the kitchen bench? Haha, anyway, how are you?’

You shuddered at even the thought of telling her yet.

Stopping at the grocery store, you decided to pick up some things you knew you were running low on, as well as grabbing the ingredients you needed to make dinner with for the night.

What you hadn’t expected when you arrived home, was the smell of cooking food filling the apartment and the sound of sizzling vegetables coming from the stove, ‘Kletka - Molchat Doma’ streaming out of your speaker. You chucked your keys in the dish atop Aemond’s and kicked off your shoes, shuffling to the kitchen.

He stood facing the stove, hair pulled back in a low and messy bun, shorter strands tucked behind his ears.

The tall man had changed out of his running gear, and was in a black t-shirt and some black dickies cuffed at the bottom, large black Doc Martins tied tightly on his feet.

You watched as his shoulders spread, muscles rippling beneath his shirt as he cooked, the smell of spices filling the kitchen and lounge room.

It smelt so good that your mouth watered.

Aemond effortlessly flipped food in a pan, arm tight and tensed, veins visible on his pale skin as he worked. It was almost enchanting watching him cook, and your stomach did a flip as you gazed, warmth spreading into your gut.

“You going to stand and watch the whole time?”

You tensed, and sheepishly cleared your throat, “What are you cooking?” You walked over to stand next to him, his eye slipping to you from the corner of his eye as he continued to flip and stir the food.

“Dinner.”

You snorted, “I can see that.” You turned away and began to put your groceries and things away, opening the fridge to see that it was already full.

Aemond had gone grocery shopping.

“Do you eat meat?” He asked, chucking in some before you answered.

“Yea, I do.”

He hummed, flicking a finger out to turn the speaker down slightly so he could hear you better. He reached above him and pulled down two bowls, stirring the dinner again in the saucepan before he flicked it over into the two bowls.

He spun and gave you one, turning the speaker off.

Aemond made you dinner.

“Oh, thanks.” You uttered, taking the bowl from his hands before digging into the cutlery draw to pull out two forks.

Aemond hummed again, grabbing a fork from your hand as he turned the stove off and grabbed his own bowl, moving to the couch to eat. You followed after him, still in your work clothes and sat on the opposite end of the couch, feeling static energy between you both.

He flicked on the tv and began eating, dropping his phone on the table face down. You followed and began eating, watching some show about dragons and royalty.

The dinner was amazing.

You even groaned audibly as you ate.

Aemond was a good cook.

“This is amazing.” You complimented him, shoving another forkful into your mouth, flavour exploding on your tongue.

Aemond hummed in acknowledgement.

“Who taught you to cook like this?”

“Helaena.” He smiled.

“Of course she did.” You chuckled, feeling the tension between you begin to dissolve.

This was fine.

You could pretend nothing happened.

He totally didn't have you pressed against the kitchen bench with his finger on your cunt last night.

“How was work?” He turned his head to you, eye concentrated on your face, watching your reaction.

You groaned, “Shit. Gwayne did a Harold Holt and left me to clean up the mess.”

Aemond’s brows frowned, “Harold Holt?”

You flicked your hand in dismissal, “Australian Prime Minister. Anyway, absolute nightmare of a day, so thanks for dinner. I was thinking after I got groceries I would just come home and make some noodles.”

Aemond smirked, and your stomach fluttered at the sight, “I got groceries too.”

You smirked back, “I saw that. Thanks by the way. Great minds do think alike.”

The coffee table buzzed from Aemond’s phone, once, twice, three times in succession. You watched as a long arm reached out to press the silence button, dropping it back onto the table with a huff.

You polished off your dinner, watching the show together.

“Why doesn’t she just take her dragons to the castle and kill everyone?” You watched the silver haired woman on the screen and couldn’t help but think of the man beside you.

“That would mean she kills innocents and proves a point to her enemies that she is cruel like her father.” Aemond mused.

His phone buzzed again.

“But she’s proven that she’s not. If anything, she’s shown restraint and empathy.” You argued, before a large smirk wound on your face, “Now that I look at her, you guys look similar. You’re more brooding though.”

“Brooding again.” Aemond huffed a laugh and you followed.

“Brooding and a chef. You won’t get any complaints from me.” You paused tilting your head and nodded to the screen, “If I was her I’d just kill everyone.”

“Spoken like a true tyrant.”

“Tyrant of this apartment, and this apartment only. Maybe my office cubicle if my boss is being particularly slimy.”

Aemond hummed, “Larys giving you a hard time?”

You grimaced, “When does he not? I don’t know what your mum sees in him.” Aemond nodded in agreement, “At least I don’t work under Tyland Lannister, he would be a nightmare not even I could survive.”

The thought of working under your ex’s brother made your skin crawl, you didn’t even want to think about it.

The table vibrated again, and then again. Aemond snatched up his phone, pale brows frowning as he looked at the screen. His lips twitched and you watched any inkling of the good mood he had been in disappear.

He threw his phone down on the table with more force than needed, the sound causing you to flinch.

“Who’s that? Don’t tell me Aegon’s stuck in some sorority bathroom again.” You tried to lighten the mood, teasing tone in your voice.

Aemond’s cheek twitched and you watched as his hands flexed, “No one.” His voice came out almost like a growl.

You felt a pang of concern for him, “Are you ok?”

Aemond stood abruptly, grabbing his bowl and shoving his phone into his pocket roughly, “Drop it.”

You blinked up at him as he snatched your finished bowl and made his way to the kitchen.

Over the next two days Aemond avoided you completely, leaving early and coming home late, opting to either eat outside of the house or in his room. His avoidance of the apartment came at a great relief as well as a disappointment.

You were back to square one, and you had a sneaking suspicion that his mood came from either his ex or news of his father.

You had finally replied back to Helaena, shooting her an apology and then calling her after to tell her about work and see how she was doing. She sounded a bit shorter than usual, but she told you that being back with the family had been tense, and that her dad was not doing great.

You wished you could console her, hold her and let her cry, but you were stuck in the house with her brother and unable to go to her with the pile of work that was mounting on your desk.

When she had asked about Aemond, your heart had raced in your chest, anxiety peaking as you lied and told her that he was nice enough but rarely home. You didn’t tell her about your kiss in the kitchen, or how his hand had gone up your dress, and guilt ate away at you because of this.

You told yourself you would tell her, but not now. Not with everything else going on in her life. You couldn’t add another pile of flaming shit to the stress she was going through.

You would reap the consequences later.

After the third day had passed of Aemond avoidance of you, you found him in the kitchen that morning where you had found him on Monday, leant against the bench, coffee in hand, and a steaming mug of tea beside him.

An apology.

Or at least, one in his opinion.

He greeted you with a soft and rumbling ‘morning’ before he left to go on his run, leaving you with the tea. You stood leant against the bench and drank the brew that was perfectly steeped to your liking.

Helaena must have told him how you liked it, or maybe he taken a good guess. Either way, you were gladdened for his shite apology and drank it happily.

You went to work and made sure to politely chew Gwayne out with multiple ‘per my last email’s and flooded him with rebooked meetings that were back to back for him to chase up on. He had come to your desk, leaning against it as he watched you and explained the reason for his absence, all the while Jasper pretended to not be listening in.

Gwayne often tried to ‘connect’ with you on a more personal level, but he annoyed you more than anything. He had this air around him that screamed ‘Trad Wife Fantasy’ and you were definitely not one to entertain that. Misogyny seemed to be ripe in the Hightower circles.

When you had got home that evening, Aemond was not, and so you began to heat up leftovers from the night before.

The apartment had felt cold despite the warmth outside, and you realised that the aircon had been left on for likely the whole day. You turned it off, making a note to check it before you leave in the mornings, chucking on an oversized jumper before sitting down to eat.

You flicked on the tv to put a show on and zone out, needing to let your brain turn to mush after the long day, before finishing your meal and putting your dishes in the washer. You were curled up amongst the pillows with your jumper sleeves tucked over your hands when you heard keys be pushed into the door.

Aemond entered the apartment, long silver hair shifting against his back as he sauntered in. His eye dropped to you on the couch and gave you a small nod. You nodded back, greeting him with a small ‘hey’ before going back to watching the television.

Aemond moved about the kitchen to make himself dinner and you scrolled through your phone, wondering if you should reply to Cregan’s text asking if you wanted to go out drinking with him and the boys that weekend.

The couch dipped beside you, Aemond having sat in the centre of the couch, thigh brushing against yours.

“What’re you watching?” He asked, face turned to the tv.

You turned to look at Aemond’s, who’s attention was locked on the screen.

Everything about him was so severe. The way he spoke, the way he moved, the music he listened to, all way to how he interacted with others, and his features reflected it. His nose was long and sharp, and it matched his chin and jaw, his scar slicing through his eye to his cheek.

But his lips were different. They weren’t sharp like the rest of him, they were soft. So soft, and the way he had held you in the kitchen was softer than you had expected he would have been.

You had expected him to grip your neck roughly, whisper in your ear obscenities, shove you backwards into the shelves, and bend you over the bench to wrench your dress over your ass, and d-

His face turned to you as he asked you again, and you swallowed feeling heat rise in your cheeks, “Some show about a zombie apocalypse.” You answered.

Was it hot in here?

Why was it so hot all of a sudden?

Aemond hummed, lifting a long leg to cross over a knee, his thigh hovering above yours, as warmth from his body spread up through you, travelling straight to your gut.

He smelt good.

Spicy and dark, with a hint of cigarette hanging in the undertones.

Feeling suddenly warm, you gripped the underside of your jumper and lifted, pulling it up and over your head. Cool air met your stomach and chest, and you snapped a hand down to pull the shirt that had gotten caught in your jumper back over your skin.

Shit.

One arm after the other, you took the jumper off in a flustered set of movements, chucking it onto the arm of the couch as you tried to hide the blush of your cheeks.

Ok.

He hadn’t said anything.

Clearly he hadn’t seen otherwise he would have said something. It was Aemond, he would have been snarky and sarcastic or chastising. It’s fine. So fine. Totally fine. Not as if you didn’t just flash him. Not at all.

Everything was fine.

You sat for a moment, adjusting yourself against the couch cushions, suddenly not being able to get comfortable, feeling a shyness spread through your chest. You breathed shallowly. A peak couldn’t hurt. You let your head turn slightly to look at Aemond.

His jaw was clenched, hand against his knee in a tight fist, small blush on his cheeks.

The couch vibrated and Aemond stiffened, this time not reaching to look at his phone.

Okay.

Maybe he had seen.

Fuck.

You stood awkwardly, grabbing the discarded jumper. Aemond looked up, watching you, chest rising and falling slowly beneath his shirt.

“Gonna have a shower,” You blurted, watching his silver lashes blink up at you, “Unless you want first dibs?”

Aemond shook his head and you moved away, walking straight to the bathroom.

Your stomach was full of butterflies as you made your way to the bathroom, stripping quickly to turn on the shower and let the water run cold, trying to cool the rising heat inside of you.

You spent ample time in there, goosebumps erupting on your skin as you attempted to ignore the way the man in your lounge room stoked a fire within you.

But no matter how hard you tried, it didn’t work.

You turned off the shower and stepped out, looking over at the towel rack to grab your towel to dry yourself.

Nothing.

Fuck.

On the back of the door was Helaena’s lilac silk robe, something she always wore when you would do a girls night in, face masks and hair care, and painted nails with your favourite movie, always Pride and Prejudice (2005 version), and a bottle of red. You grabbed the robe off the rack and threw it over your body, the silk clinging to your wet skin.

You swung the door open to run to the linen closet and grab yourself a new towel, running straight into a warm and broad chest. Hands steadied your shoulders as you stumbled backwards, eyes snapping up to meet Aemond’s gaze.

His fingers were tight around your arms, clenched into your flesh as he looked down at you. You swallowed, breathing heavily as your heart raced, the air between you charged.

“You can let go of me now.” You breathed, still in his grip as he looked at you.

His gaze darkened as his eye roamed down your body, and you felt heat brushing against your skin from it. Aemond’s gaze dropped further down still, hovering over your chest as he breathed heavily.

His fingers twitched and then skated down your arms to his side, raising goosebumps along your skin. He took a step back as you moved around him to open the linen cupboard, pulling down a towel.

From behind you could still feel his eye roaming over you, warmth sliding down your spine and into your gut. You gave him a small and shy smile before you stepped back into the bathroom, towel held against your chest.

Why was he staring at you like that?

You turned in the bathroom and caught your reflection in the mirror, you could now see why.

The thin lilac silk had stuck to your wet skin, becoming almost sheer, patches of the wet robe clinging to your curves, whilst the rest was dry and soft. The dark of your nipples were revealed against the soft material, and the curve of your breast was visible.

You blushed deeply, taking off the robe to hang it back the door to dry as you towelled yourself down, dressing into some comfortable pyjamas to get ready for bed.

Anxiety nipped at you again.

Gods.

Had you just flashed him twice in one day?

What was he going to think of you?

He probably thought you were doing it on purpose.

Deciding to go back out to the lounge room and swallow the embarrassment that sat heavily in the back of your throat, you trudged quietly into the room, Aemond sitting stiffly on the couch as he continued to watch the show that was still playing on the screen.

When you sat beside him, his head had turned slightly to look at you, eye taking in your now clothed form, a blush spreading across your cheeks. You tucked your legs beneath you and began to watch it, still feeling his gaze solely on you, and no longer paying attention to whatever was on the screen.

“Did anyone die?” You asked, not daring to turn your head to fully face him, knowing that you would lose all composure once you did.

“Don’t think so.” Aemond’s voice was low and gravelly and it made you shift on the cushion.

You made an awkward sound in the back of your throat, an attempt at a laugh, but it came out more like a whine, “That’s good then, I don’t want to miss anything important.”

Aemond huffed, “You could have paused it.”

His shift in demeanour caught you off guard, “But you were watching it.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Then how do you know if anyone died?”

“I don’t.”

You turned your face to look at him annoyed, “Then why say no-one died?”

Aemond lifted a brow at you, lips beginning to pull down, “I didn’t say that at all. I said I didn’t think so.”

“That implies you were paying attention.” You argued, feeling annoyed at his snarky attitude again.

Aemond dragged an irritated hand through his hair, “I don’t care about your stupid fucking show. If you didn’t want to miss something, then maybe you should have been smart and paused it.”

Your head reared back as you looked at him, his mood rapidly having soured, “What the fuck is your problem?”

The man let out a hollow laugh, “Fuck off.”

His phone vibrated in the couch cushions.

“No seriously dude. What is your deal? You’ve been on my dick ever since you moved in. I’m doing you a favour here.”

Anger flashed across the Targaryens face, his brows pulling down into a sneer as his scar crinkled across his cheek, “You think you’re doing me a favour?”

You were wrong, his lips could be sharp.

Buzz.

You turned on the couch to face him, “You’re the one who needed change. Who needed to leave Harrenhal and come back here. You took Helaena’s room so you could get settled and start fresh.”

“You don’t know anything about what I need.”

Buzz.

“You need to check your phone for a start, because whoever is messaging you is clearly desperate to get in touch. Maybe it’s Alys.”

The air in the room dropped, and Aemond’s face became stoney, as though he had pushed away all emotions to the back of his mind with cool practice. The way his posture had even changed looked as though he was on guard, ready to fight.

Regret flooded you as you looked at him.

You felt immediately terrible, having crossed a line that should never had been crossed. You knew his break up with Alys was bad, and their relationship was not great, and you had just rubbed that in his face.

“That was uncalled for, I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry.” You apologised quietly, watching as his chest rose and fell jaggedly.

Aemond’s jaw was tensed, lips pursed together in a hard line as his eye narrowed on you, “Do you want to know what my problem is?” He leant forward, voice barely higher than a whisper.

You swallowed.

“My problem is that I live with someone who parades herself half naked around the apartment, and brings home men to fuck her loudly, all night, like a tart.”

You blanched, anger rising up your throat, “A tart? Wow.” Your voice dropped, “That's low. Even for you, Aemond.”

“You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know enough.” You sneered, standing from the couch to look down at him, “You have this ‘woe is me’ performance down to a T, when in reality you were born into a family of old money, not having to work a single day in your life, yet you still act as though you are downtrodden. You’re a spoilt, narcissistic asshole who looks down his purebred nose at people. You have more in common with Jason Lannister than you’d like to think.” You spun on your heel, anger bursting inside of you as you moved to storm away from the lounge room and into your bedroom.

Aemond’s hand shot out and grabbed your wrist tightly as he began to stand, “Is that what you really think?”

“It’s what I know. You’ve so far treated me as lesser than the dirt on the bottom of your shoe. You’ve got some serious social deficiencies, Aemond. Did Daddy not hug you enough as a child?” You mocked, striking him where you knew it would hurt the most.

Fuck him.

Fuck being nice.

Arrogant, rich, prick.

Aemond straightened to his full height above you, looking down as he silently seethed. The air around you was charged, and the tension continued to mount as he watched you, eye locked on yours.

“Careful, bunny.”

“Stop fucking calling me that.”

“Why?” His voice dropped, “It’s what you like, isn’t it? Being called bunny, being treated rough. I could bend you over this couch right now and I bet you’d be soaked.”

Your eyes widened, breath stilling in your chest.

Aemond took another step forward, dropping your wrist, “I’m right aren’t I? You act out like this because you want to be put in your place. You want to be a brat so daddy will fuck you, don’t you?”

A chill ran down your spine as he loomed above you, “Don’t you?”

You swallowed thickly, eyes narrowing, “Fuck you.”

Aemond chuckled, “I bet you’d love that.” His hand moved swiftly, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear, tingles rippling down your neck.

His hand kept going, brushing through your hair softly, before he gripped a large chunk harshly at the nape of your neck.

A shocked gasp fell from your lips.

“Answer me.”

“No.”

Defiant until the end.

“No?” His brows raised, “Then if I check, you wouldn’t be dripping right now, would you?”

You raised your head in false bravado, a blush creeping across your skin, standing as impossibly still as you could. Challenging him.

Aemond hummed, spinning you around by the grip on your hair, swiftly bending you over the arm of the couch. A cry fell from your lips as your hips and stomach collided with the edge, hands gripping the side to catch yourself.

Your heart was beating against your ribs as you shifted in anticipation, the heat of Aemond’s body loomed behind you as he bent over you, lips coming to beside your ear.

“Now, if I check, and you are wet, you’re in trouble.” He purred.

You squirmed, his hand tugging on your tendrils sending pleasure down your spine and straight to your core. He chuckled, and you whined again, feeling one of his large palms skate down your side agonisingly slow before he reached your pyjama bottoms.

Aemond’s long fingers dipped beneath the elastic and paused for a moment, as though he was giving you a second to say no. But you said nothing, eyes focused on the cushion in front of you as he tugged the shorts down in one swift yank.

Aemond tutted behind you, dragging one long finger to swipe through your folds. Your back arched as you whined, teasing pleasure rippling up through you.

You could feel how wet you were, and your thighs rubbed together in anticipation of what was to come.

He clicked his tongue at you, “You’re soaked.” Aemond’s hand left your core and you turned your head to look at him, watching as he brought the slick finger up to his lips to suck.

Your lips parted as your watched, his eye sliding shut as he licked his finger clean, humming.

“So sweet.” He cooed, “But I was right.” His voice lowered, and he loomed back over you, looking into your eye as his face hardened, “You’ve been such a brat tonight.”

You shook your head, tilting your hips back towards him, biting your lip as you looked at him. A smirk wound on his face as he watched you, hand moving back between your thighs where they instantly found your bud.

He pressed into it meanly, and a sharp cry fell from your lips.

“Shut up.” He hissed, diving two long fingers into your core with no warning.

Your eyes clenched shut as he immediately began to fuck his digits in and out of you, delicious stretch blooming within as the lewd sound of your wetness was all to be heard over your shallow breaths.

Aemond stayed bent over you, watching your face contort with pleasure as you tried to keep your moans inside, biting your lip roughly.

It was so hard.

Every drag of his fingers found the soft spongey spot within you with practised precision and without mercy, roughly pressing into it with each thrust of his hand, sending sparks of pleasure up your spine and heat to settle in your gut.

“So quiet now.” He teased, “Where’s that attitude gone?”

“Fuck you.” You grit through your teeth panting, eyes half lidded.

Aemond huffed, straightening up to his full height as his other hand pressed down on your lower back, pinning you to the couch arm. His hand began to fuck into you rapidly, slick leaking down your thighs as you writhed beneath his grip, coil beginning to tighten.

A broken moan fell erupted from your lips as the knuckles of his hand beat harshly against your clit, pain and pleasure being pulled through you in equal measure. The pain eventually being overridden by the euphoria that he was pulling from you.

Your walls tightened around his fingers and you felt him shift, the width of his other hand spreading widely across your back as he knelt behind you. You squeaked, trying to move, feeling suddenly shy, which earnt you a particularly harsh swat against the flesh of your ass.

“Stay still.” Aemond growled, and you did, feeling the warm of his breath at your core.

Your legs shook as his fingers were pulled from within, and you heard him lap at his digits once more, humming almost pornagraphically.

“Such a dirty, little girl. So wet and wanting for daddy, aren’t you? Such a slut.”

You mewled, hips shifting upwards, trying to take his fingers back inside of you.

You were so close, so fucking close.

Aemond leant forward, and dragged a wide stripe with his tongue up through your folds, humming as he moved, his sharp nose pressing into your backside.

“Fuck.” You whined, jolting forward.

Aemond’s hands grabbed your cheeks and spread them wide in a bruising grip before he dived between your folds, licking and sucking at your pearl with no abandon, your release coming closer and closer with every swipe of his skilled tongue.

He moaned as he lapped at your arousal, tongue dipping between your folds to collect it straight from the source. Aemond’s fingers dug into your flesh meanly as you whined, hips jerking backwards, chasing your release. He held you still, fucking you with his tongue as your climax hurtled towards you.

“Please.” You begged, fingers gripping the couch for dear life, knuckles going white.

Aemond paused and pulled back, “Please what?” He asked coyly.

You groaned, “Please make me cum.”

“But you don’t deserve that, do you? You’ve been a bitch all night, haven’t you?”

You whined, pushing your hips back as you felt him stand behind you again, “Not true.” You argued pathetically, “You were mean first.”

Aemond’s hand pulled your head back by your hair, eye boring into your own, “You haven’t seen mean at all, princess.”

His fingers pressed back into your walls, head still wrenched back painfully as he fucked his hand into you harder and faster than before, the coil within winding rapidly.

“Fuck. Fuck. Aemond, fuck.”

“Not my name.” He yanked on your hair, pain pulling at your scalp, “What’s my name?”

“Aemond.” You breathed jaggedly, last bit of cheekiness coming through.

His hand stilled inside of you, “No.”

You wriggled and whined, trying to push yourself back to fuck yourself on his fingers. His grip in your hair tightened again, preventing you from making any movements as he kept his fingers still.

A warning.

You swallowed the last of your pride, and whimpered, “Daddy.”

“Good girl.” Aemond cooed, his hand began to fuck into you again, thumb curling beneath to press into your bud and rub with every thrust, “Beg.”

You whined, biting your lips as pleasure began to mount, your release so close you could begin to feel the peak.

“Beg.” He growled again, thrusts getting harder.

“Please,” You sobbed out, “Please let me cum. Please let me cum, daddy.”

“There, that wasn’t so hard was it?” He mocked, fucking his hand into you as fast as he could go.

The swirling of his thumb combined with his fingers moving rapidly, caused heat to bloom through your gut as your breath held in your chest. It was all too much, and the coil within wound pathetically fast as his skilled hand brought you to your peak.

“There you go.” He cooed from behind, feeling your walls clench around his digits, “Good girl.”

You came with a cry, hips pressing backwards into his hand as he fucked you through your climax, drawing out each and every inch of pleasure that he could. The room was filled with your moans and whines, the wet sound of your heat engulfing his fingers behind you.

Aemond slowed his thrusts down as you slumped against the arm of the couch, mind going fuzzy as pleasure coursed through your veins. Aemond removed his fingers carefully, wiping your slick on the inside of your thighs as you felt him look down at you.

Buzz.

You breathed heavily, lost in bliss as a small smile wound on your cheeks. You heard him chuckle behind you at the sight. Completely fucked out on the couch. And only with his hands and mouth.

Buzz.

“You gonna get that?” You sighed dreamily, pants still pushed down to your knees as lay slumped in a daze.

Buzz.

You turned your head to look at Aemond as he pulled out his phone in agitation, face scowling at the screen. You moved to sit on the arm of the couch, pulling your shorts up as you looked at him scrolling through his notifications.

“Are you okay?” You asked softly, feeling concern at seeing his sudden change in nature, “Is it your dad?”

His cool gaze flicked to your face, and you felt the warmth that had once surrounded you grow cold. It was like he had flicked a switch, “How about you mind your own business.” He scowled.

You furrowed your brows at him, “Woah, relax. I just wanted to know if you were okay.”

Aemond scoffed, shoving his phone back into his back pocket, “Are you always this overbearing?”

You blanched.

What the fuck?

Buzz.

“What?” You said in disbelief, brows furrowing.

“Oh, please.” He growled angrily, “Making me dinner, asking after me all the time. If I had known you were that desperate-“

“-Desperate?”

A flash of regret washed over Aemond’s face. He sighed through his nose and stepped towards you, “Y/n, I-“

“Don’t.” You held a hand up, feeling tears begin to prickle at your eyes standing on shaky legs, “This was a mistake.”

Aemond’s face dropped.

The silver haired man sighed again, “If you would just l-“

“If you treated Alys half as bad as this, it’s no wonder she left you.” You snapped, watching as his jaw tensed, feeling an ache bloom in your chest, “You have no regard for anyone else but yourself, and what we just did was a lapse in my judgement. I thought that you-“ You paused and swallowed, not bothering to finish what you were going to say.

Aemond stood deathly still as you sped past him, not waiting for his response as you fled to your bedroom, slamming your door shut behind you. You crawled immediately into the sheets, tears finally falling from your eyes as you cried softly, turning onto your side to curl in on yourself.

You felt used.

If there was one thing that you knew, it was that Aemond was not a good person, no matter what Helaena said.

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

Taglist:

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darlingofvalyria · 7 months

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An abandoned church made most of broken wood and whimpering winds becomes a momentary resting sanctuary for Uhtred and his men— Osferth finds himself with a crooked root in the shape of a hand, a gold ring, and a full, blue moon.

╰┈➤ PROMPTS ❝ COCK WORSHIP, ORGASM DENIAL ❞

[ +18 MDNI ] [ 2,830 ] [ masterlist ] | Osferth x Ghost Bride!Reader

contains— smut, fluff, angsty-ish - corpse bride!au - this is not the N word okay, you're a ghostly being that becomes corporeal. it's monsterfucking, not that kind of filth - no use of y/n - mentions of christianity lol - dillusioned!reader (if you know the movie, you know) - mention of character death - nsfw: sort of dubcon, smidge coercion, cock worship, orgasm denial(?) - no betas.

a/n— ok, but i am actually very proud of this one!! i enjoyed writing this way too much, adding a bit of comedy aspect to it shdhs. i hope you enjoy it!! oh, also this is the vibe you want if you wanna listen. comment, reblog & like at will, mi luvs, mwa!

His pack rests behind him, the couple of bundled furs he uses for bedding has hardened into the cold ground, not at all aiding his sleep. Around him, his lord and the rest of the men had managed to fall into their dreams, almost as soon as they closed their eyes.

Even Finan, with a furrow in his brow and his arms crossed, has his head tilted awkwardly to one side that Osferth knows is going to be painful in the morning.

But sleep evades him, and though he scarcely believes in ghosts, resting in a church, no matter how abandoned, no matter that there's gaping, charred hole that has blown over the side of it, trickling the cold, winter winds and soft, wet snow— it feels odd.

It brings a restlessness and a comfort all the same, and with a few minutes more of staring at rotting wood and broken awning, Osferth sighs. Their small fire is dying, might as well get more dry sticks.

The church, though broken and ruined, offers warmth. Once he's out into the wintry night, the pale moonlight bright and full, glittering the wisps of fluffy snow as if you don't come out wet if you sink on it. It's cold. Much too cold to walk, to linger, but he continues. He winds to the other side, leisure in his pace, breathing in the cold whilst warming his hands with his mouth.

It's nice to find a rhythmic motion that empties his thoughts. It is nice to be out of Wessex, out of familiarity. Uhtred brought with him adventure and battle, honour and excitement. It quieted the wrought in his head... until night comes, and Osferth is left with the weight of all those he tries to bury.

He walks quite a bit, observing and carries a faint sadness for a few graves that are left. Some opened, unearthed by grave robbers, uncaring of the Christian faith. Wooden plaque holding no names, just crosses. He moves past, finding himself entering the forest before he could think through it until he comes across a clearing. It's surprisingly, perfectly circled, trees at the side adjusted like soldiers with a curled root at the centre.

Curious and kind of awed at nature, at the wonder of the existence this little tree root, curled and cold, he dips one knee as flutters his fingers over it. The thin spindles look like curled fingers, a hand reaching in a hooked angle.

When he pushes his hand forward, curling his fingers against the root, Osferth makes a surprised hum at how fitted, how perfectly it holds like a hand against his.

Osferth doesn't notice you, dancing between the shadows and moonlight. Hit by light and you fade with it, more air and light yourself than life and physical flesh. You had seen him and his men find the scarred church and setup camp. The four men had not been the first to find the abandoned place, nor had taken refuge.

And time is everlasting when you're dead. Meaningless when there is no end to days and nights.

But he is different, you muse, watching him unable to sleep and walk and walk until he reached the clearing and your cold, dead heart feels a tug.

Does he know you? Is that why he is so different?

You slink between trees, hiding behind a trunk as you watch him kneel where your body lies, curious and awed, watching as he holds your hand, curling his fingers around your own.

Your left hand flexes, a surprised giggle falling from your lips and disappearing with the wind as you feel his warmth. His hand as if he is holding your own. Human touch fades from memory in a span of time and it is a pleasant hold.

Look down, you try to say, excitement you've never felt before, thrums through your body. Look down and see the ring!

If he does, you know do not need to know who he is. You know who he will be.

Look down, look down, look down! Please! you are practically screaming, jumping in the shadows as his eyes, beautiful blue like your favourite butterfly, is entranced by the glint underneath the snow. You hold your hands to your chest. Oh, please! Please, Please look down!

You exhale, feeling life sweep back into your mouth. There. There you are, you say soundlessly as he picks it up. A gold band worn with age but gold it still is. He twists it around, and though others have tried to steal it, pocket it and sell it, you know he is different. His warmth is different. There is kindness in his eye that you like.

And God, is he pretty. You would not mind at all being his bride.

You're on one knee, now propose, you say, willing the vows of old and binding to reach his ears. He twists it and as if playfully entranced, he mutters the words that you echo back in the shadows.

"With this hand, I will lift your sorrows," Osferth murmurs, the words he's listened once as a young boy, hearing the priest anoint two lovers who had escaped to bond their love. "Your cup shall never be empty, for I will be your wine. With this candle, I will light your way in darkness."

He raises the ring and places it on your crooked, dried fourth finger— and you inhale air, wintry and cold and so, so alive for the first time in a very long time.

"And with this ring," he says.

"I ask you to be mine," you finish, startling Osferth as you glide toward him. Triumphant. He stumbles, falling on his bum as your arms widen around you in all your ghostly bride attire and glory. "My love! I have waited for you for such a long time. Good thing the ice and winters have been kind to my body and you still manage to find it!"

Though in truth, you had plowed against hard ground to at least unearth your left hand while most of your body had been abandoned. Your skull had cracked in three places, and there's a worm who made a permanent home in your dried liver. But your new husband does not need to know that.

He gapes at you, wide eyed and unblinking, and just as he starts you yell? Shriek— You stumble to him, falling on his lap as you press your hands against his mouth. When you don't pass through him, you let out an excited shriek.

"Oh, my apologies, I don't mean to scare you!" You pout, aged old sadness wisps beneath your eyes. "Please don't scream, my love. I have waited for you for so long. And you're so warm... and so real."

As shock permeates his face, frozen under the feel of you pressing against him— there is weight, he can feel you. You're not as warm as him, cold in fact, and he is able to see through you if his eyes adjust well enough. But you are there. He can see you and he can feel you. Your wide, unblinking eyes drinking him in, exuberant smile composed of pretty lips and a mesmerising happiness. Your hair cascades around a ruined, fluttering veil with dead flowers atop your head.

But by God, you are beautiful.

Your wedding dress— because you are a bride, are you not? Were a bride, Osferth's head is starting to ache from trying to look through and at you — are in tatters and holes, showing more of your skin than what your dress initially thought to show and he swallows. He can see a creamy thigh exposed through a slash. It doesn't help that you're bent over, resting between his legs, and he can see the top of your breasts.

On your end, your hands are just there, on his face, and you start exploring his pretty visage. His warmth is addicting, gliding your fingers through his nose and pretty cheekbones, tickling yourself on his lashes with the pads of your fingers and you giggle. The sound makes Osferth exhale shakily before you are cupping his sharp jaw and your fingers touch his lips, your own mouth turning into an 'O'.

Oh, they're soft and a little chapped, a little cold, but his exhale entrances you. His show of pure, breathing life is tantalising.

You lean in closer, nearly touching his lips with your own as you try to inhale his air. He smells of smoked meat and dried ale. Winter woods and burnt campfire. Your hands drift from his mouth to his neck, to his chest. His heart. There in your palms, you press tight. A quickened heartbeat nestles beneath and you exhale, smiling ruefully.

"My husband." Osferth's eyes widen at the pure adoration and lust in your gaze. "You are wonderful. My wait is worth it."

"Hold on, l-lady." He captures your hands in his, eyebrows furrowed. He swallows as he can feel you both corporeal and wispy. If shadows can be held, he thinks it would feel like this. "H-How am I your husband? Sorry, I've— I don't even know your name!"

What's more is that you're a ghost! But something in his head tells him not to speak aloud such a thing, for another, he isn't sure he hasn't fallen back in the encampment with the others. A bizarre dream of a very pretty, ghostly bride is for one an embarrassing topic to broach.

"Oh. That's right!" You giggle happily, offering your name and Osferth tests in his tongue. A pretty name for a pretty bride. "What's yours? Though, I'm afraid I prefer to call you husband, and would prefer to be called your wife. Or 'your love'."

At another helpless, tinkling laughter, Osferth blushes. Your eyes are distracted by the colour in his cheeks, so long ago contained your own but no more, that you take your hands from his and start petting the rosy tint again. He's so warm that you start nuzzling into him, your head burrowing into his neck.

"O-Osferth." He clears his throat to get your attention. "Osferth, lady."

"My wife."

"Sorry?"

You start to pout. "Call me 'my wife'."

Osferth starts to shake his head. "Lady, I really don't—"

"I am your wife now. See." You sit up, pointing back to your dead hand, gold ring glinting under the pale moon. "You've made your vows and given me the ring. We're married now." Your gaze darkens, your form shimmering and Osferth yelps as you had gotten ice cold. "You have made your vow, Osferth. Are you telling me you do not honour your vows? Are you a man without honour? Is there another... woman?"

Your hands on his face sharpened, like ice, digging through his skin as iff trying to embedded yourself into his skull. He cries out, taking your wrists.

"No, no! I— yes, I am your husband now. I am. There is also no other woman!"

You cock your head, still frowning. "Are you sure?"

"I'm wearing monk's robes, lad— wife," he says helplessly.

"But..." You cock your head to the side. "You don't seem too shock of a woman's body. You're very responsive to me, my love, I enjoy it quite so."

This time, he blushes deeply. "I— Goodness, okay. I've had practice... s'all."

"With... whores?"

He cringes, waiting for you to turn mad, pure ice cold and tear through his skin like you almost did, but you only hum when he nods.

"That is alright. That presents more of a challenge than an obstruction of our love."

"Challenge?" he asks as you gently push him on his back, straddling his hips. You slide your palms up and down his torso almost as if he is a campfire and you are warming your hands.

He swallows at your confident grin before you blow him a kiss and he exhales a laugh, his mind truly unconnected from his body because there is a ghostly woman on top of him, adoring him with flirtations, and he is stirring in his pants.

Truly, he must be deep asleep, in a more awkward position than Finan.

If I am, he thinks watching you with a blossoming attachment. Please, by God, don't wake me.

With a seductive intent, you slide down from his body, making sure you pay a special wiggle in his tenting manhood that he feels a lightning bolt from his cock to the ends of his nerves. He doesn't truly understand what you intend until you've unlaced him and paying special attention to his now, semi-erect appendage.

Osferth is red and sputtering, unable to find the strength to stop you.

You get your face impossibly close to his manhood, your unbridled attention makes his cock inflate until you test a teasing finger from beneath, circling his balls, up and up until you tease the slit and his hips jolt.

"G-God, Oh goodness," he spits, white knuckling his woolen coat. "Please do something. D-Don't just—shit." You test a tongue, laving the underside of his cock until pearly white essence beads from his slit and you lick it experimentally. It tastes salty, inexcusably human and alive, and you decide you like it, especially when you watch Osferth writhe, unable to decide what to do from such teasing little touches.

"Good thing for you husband, your wife made sure to serve a keen listen to gossiping wives behind the church after mass. Well before the raid burnt it all down." You got yourself comfortable between his thighs, loving how snugged you fit against his warmth here, as well as having a beautiful of view of your Osferth. "They spoke salaciously of what keeps their husbands to their beds."

You give him a wink as you enclose your hand on his cock, giving it a firm tug and he chokes. "To keep the whores away." You start slow and teasing, wanting to see what movements pleased him the most, what made him sigh and groan, jolt, hips chasing the feeling of your hand that started to warm and get wet, both from his excitement and the teasing licks you give.

When he started panting, you took your hand away. His head bobs back adorably at you, frowning. "W-Wife? Wha—" But you don't let him finish, sitting up on your hunches as you replace your hand with your mouth, feeling the stretch as he throws his head back again, neck arched. It doesn't hurt, momentarily uncomfortable as you test the feeling of it, the weight now so full in your mouth before you start moving up and down, eased by the slick and guided by his pretty sounds.

And Osferth has been on the brink of peak multiple times, but you kept stopping or slowing midway. At first, he surmised it must be your first time, unused to a man in your mouth but eager to give him pleasure, which he can't help but feel deep fondness for.

By the third peek he's been deprived off, and the little smirk playing on your lips, he realised the truth. But your mouth is a different story. It's hot and heady, just like a real mouth and his stomach is clenching, his pleasure tightening that he's got tears in his eyes, apologising as his hips chase his high in your throat but by the rumble that rocked his cock, it seems as if you were trying to tell him it was okay.

When you started massaging his stones, he was gone. White hot pleasure broke behind his eyelids that he grabbed your head, your veil and hair, dead flowers falling into light as he came, hips stuttering, before holding you down until the last drop of his spend is in your mouth.

He releases you with apologies, chest heaving with tears in his eyes. "I-I'm so sorry, lady, I— inexcusable." He stared gently cleaning your face, unable to realise how much more solid you had become, how much more colour bled in your ghostly blue.

But as you sit back up, you're grinning, unmistakable pride in your gaze as he wipes the corner of your mouth tenderly. You take his fingers before he wipes it on his trousers, coated in him, and licks them clean, sucking hard with a little giggle.

"Good boy," you say. Osferth shudders, his cock already painfully stirring once more.

The Lord have mercy on him. Were there ghostly vixens? Did he marry the only ghostly vixen?

He can't say he's too mad about it.

"Hmm. So that's what it tastes like. I think I like it." You smile, rubbing his thigh. "I also think we are going to have a fruitful marriage, sweet Osferth. What we only need now is one thing..."

He blinks at you. "Hm?"

"Death, my love." You blink back at him owlishly, snapping the dagger strapped to his side. "How can we stay together when one of us breathes?"

Christ, I already have an idea for part two...

#osferth #osferth x reader #osferth x you #osferth fanfic #kinktober 2023 #osferth smut #osferth fluff #tlk fanfic #tlk fanfiction #tlk smut #tlk fluff #︶꒦꒷♡ elle tries kinks ♡꒷꒦︶#elle writes !! ꒱ ↷˗ˏˋ🍒#the last kingdom #tlk #osferth scenario #ewan mitchell characters

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marcmorrigan · 1 month

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finally delivering on the princess tutu headshots i promised... love these dysfunctional teens 🩰💖💕

LOTS of notes about headcanons/design choices under the cut! like. a lot. dont say i didnt warn you

starting with my specialest guy fakir:

i had a suuuper clear vision for fakir, and i couldnt be happier with how he turned out, he looks exactly how i imagine him! trying to translate his Bird-Shaped Hair into my style gave me SERIOUS homestuck flashbacks. my affinity for knights with Problems knows no bounds...

adding the hyperpigmentation around his eyes and his acne scars is what really solidified this for me-- i put those in and was like oh!!! there you are!!! my boy!!! and you can tell because i gave him acne scars + thick eyebrows that he IS my boy... there are very clear trends among my headcanons for my faves lol. big noses, thick eyebrows, skin imperfections, heavy eyebags, long dark hair... and fakir truly has it all 😤 he is so Ideal Character Design to me

i think fakir is actually pretty self-conscious about his appearance tho! we see characters like pike and lilie say hes handsome to ahiru, but i dont know how often he actually hears that? and im sure its hard not to compare himself to mytho, who is straight out of a fairy tale; being a regular teenager dealing with regular teen body stuff is hard enough without your roommate being a magically beautiful eternally youthful storybook hero. i think he probably internalises more that people see him as scary and angry, and that the girls who do have crushes on him always frame it in contrast to mytho, who is Good and Kind and Handsome, implying (or sometimes outright stating!) that fakir is Bad and Mean and... Well...

fakir is very sensitive but quiet about it, so i think its a very private point of self-consciousness. i think he puts a lot of semi-secret effort into his appearance; canonically he has a lot of very funny and clearly customised clothing, and he chooses to keep his hair long and in a very particular style (i have a whole breakdown in my mind of how he achieves that style and it involves a surprising amount of pins and an unsurprising fuckton of teasing. i think his hair is a little fried from heat damage!), and i think that probably extends to other things, too, like manicuring his eyebrows and doing a lot of very Teenage Skincare that doesnt actually help his acne much lol. i think he probably has a lot of self-injurious habits and BFRBs like skin picking and chewing, mostly at his acne and around his nails (both of which he hates, because he knows he shouldnt but does it anyway). i think if he does it enough that theres noticeable evidence it feels, like, world-ending for him, ESPECIALLY if anyone asks what happened lol. do not perceive him except in the very specific ways and contexts he approves of THANKS

on to the narratives favorite princess, mytho:

again, i had a pretty clear idea of the vibe i wanted mytho to have going into this-- i want him to have, like, extreme prince charming vibes, very Classically Handsome without necessarily being 'conventional.' i thought a lot about 'the happy prince' story while i was working on this, and really wanted him to look like a cross between how the prince statue looks in my head and a porcelain doll. and also a cross between jonny brown and brigitte bardot? lots of very direct influences for him lol. so! lots of gold tones, gemmy eye color, cute little tooth gap, quivering wide-eyed thousand-yard-stare doe eyes and big ol dolly anime lashes, which were the very last thing i added because i was NERVOUS about pulling those off lol. they turned out cute tho! ive only done a handful of pieces for this series and i can already tell princess tutu is gonna make me up my lash drawing game considerably, these kids all look like they blink and cause a hurricane from the gale force wind of their falsies

also wait i lied the very last thing i did was add his freckles/beauty marks because he needed that little extra oomph and those were It. i think he probably has some on his hands/wrists too 💕

i was a little unsure if my idea for his hair would translate with this flat-color approach but im pretty happy with it! its supposed to be afrotextured hair (somewhere between 3b and 4c i think? wide range of potential i knowww but im still kind of hammering out my headcanons okay, this is exploratory lol) thats been rolled and finger-styled into his little feather shapes. i think loose, chunky twists would be another fun way to interpret his hair and twists are one of my fave styles to draw do i might draw him like that at some point too...

i guess fakir is the one who styles his hair for him before mytho gets his heart back? i imagine fakir is pretty meticulous about maintaining mythos health and appearance, even at the worst stages of their relationship. i think itd be hard for fakir to frame the way he treats mytho as For Mythos Sake if he wasnt doing some level of actually beneficial care for him, so being really fastidious about things like mythos diet and sleep hygiene and hair care and such gives fakir an outlet for his 'you just have to do what i tell you' thing that helps him convince himself it really is helping, no really, hes doing this for mythos benefit and he just has to be strict with him because mytho doesnt UNDERSTAND he needs PROTECTING and fakir is the ONLY ONE who can do it so mytho HAS to let him because if he doesnt then why does fakir even EXIST, if he cant manage this then what is he good for, and--

yknow. the usual complexes. and their relationship is so complex!!! but also so simple, but like. in a good way. fakirs behavior is complicated but his motivation regarding mytho is SO straightforward which makes that downward spiral into harm really easy to map out... i wont go much into that in this post since this is about visual/appearance-related headcanons but just. augh. i love this show and i love these characters!!! and i hope its apparent in my work that i do love them so <3

im hoping to do a set of these for the girls next!!! i have some other stuff to finish first but hopefully... Soon... Some Birds...

#princess tutu #fakir #mytho #prince siegfried #my art #i had sooo much fun playing around with style in these... the super strong white highlights + underpainting combo looks SO lovely #i should take this approach more often i almost never do!!! it rules and is fun to do #i was listening to my fakir playlist nonstop for DAYS while working on this and still intermittently since...#it feels like ive been sitting on these for a month but its only been 5 days omg. crazy... good to know tho #anyway i love themmm theyre everything. SO fun to draw i really hope i can do more art of them. i Want To... i have Ideas >:o)#btw is putting notes on my thoughts under a cut like this interesting for yall? its fun for me but idk if yall wanna read all that #i will probably continue regardless bc i love to hear myself talk esp abt my design choices but #im curious if my notes on my thought process are interesting to anyone else #if not oh well! thats what the cut is for 😤 nobodys gotta read it if they dont wanna im doing this for Me #full color

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dawnagustd · 2 years

Text

MU$IC FAIRY || MYG

❃ Festivaled Away: Burned Memories hosted by @bangtanbathhouse

⤞ Ticket: Playlist ⤞ Main Event: Based on a Playlist ⤞ Games: fucking playlist | sensory deprivation | breath play | phone sex | oral fixation

Read on AO3

Thank you for completing our questionnaire. Please stay on the line and allow us to find you the perfect match…

With a few basic questions and a two minute wait, he was paired with a woman that sounds rather beautiful. He imagines that she is, at least. Well, he hopes.

He’s been chatting with her for about an half of a minute, and he’s feeling her. So he doesn’t hang up when the official timer begins.

“So umm…how confidential is this?” He can never be too careful. This could ruin his reputation if someone found out. “You said you’ve done this before, right?”

“Yeah, it’s safe, love. Trust me.”

He hopes you’re right.

“After you complete the questionnaire, they pair you with a random person who has similar preferences.”

He pushes the worrisome thoughts to the back of his mind and proceeds to pleasure himself before time is up. He’s currently living paycheck to paycheck, so fifteen minutes was all he could afford.

“Should I lead or…?”

He scoffs out a laugh. “I got it, babe. Just vibe with me.”

“Okay.” Your response is through small labored breaths. You must be broke as shit too because you aren’t wasting any time. “C-Can you put on some music or something?...I umm, can’t do it when it’s this quiet.”

He grabs his laptop and allows whatever track is next to travel through the speakers.

Fuck. He forgot about the beats he was playing for someone earlier. Hopefully, it doesn’t ruin your mood before he can change it. “Sorry,” he mutters a bit embarrassed.

“No, this is fine.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, it’s sensual,” you pant. His brows knit together in curiosity and he momentarily ceases his movements. “The bass complements your voice well, actually. Did you umm…?”

“Yeah, that’s me.”

“I like it.” The little moan behind those words has him standing at attention. In any second, he could blow his load.

“Yeah? What else do you like?...Tell me what gets your attention.”

There’s a pause. “Or would you rather me shut up?”

“The opposite. I wanna hear you…your voice. You sound hot,” you giggle and it’s one of the most soothing things he’s ever heard. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, sweetheart. You don’t sound bad either…Just hearing you laugh is making me hard.”

He hears a whimper; one of the sexiest, neediest whines to ever grace his ears. “Tell me what you just did. Don’t be shy.”

“I—”

You hesitate, so he steps in.

“Touching your pussy, huh?”

He senses through the phone how worked up he’s getting you. You’ve started panting and moaning out your words shamelessly.

“Mmhm, my clit.”

He chuckles and whispers of curses come through the phone.

“Do me a favor?” you agree and he continues. “Move a little lower and dip your fingers in your pussy. Tell me how wet it is.”

He uses his spit for lubrication and tightens his fist around his cock. He imagines it was your walls snuggled around him, pumping his length as you bounce up and down. Something inside of him believes that you’re pretty, with a nice ass too. A really nice ass, that’s what his fantasies project at least.

“Fuck. How many?” you ask him.

Damn. You’re obedient as well. That’s hot, really hot.

“As many as your pretty cunt can take.”

When he hears a muffled cry, his bottom lips tucks between his teeth while he concentrates on the squelching sounds coming through the phone. You both move in sync with the music and allow it to take away the nervous jitters the both of you had previously. His cock starts twitching in his palm when your sweet little moans move through his ears.

“How many did you use, sweetheart?”

You answer him in a high-pitched voice. You’re close too, he can hear it. Your eyes are probably screwed shut, trying to keep it together to prolong the call, but he has to go before his bill skyrockets. He needs to get you off—quickly.

“Two. Three, now. I needed more.”

“Greedy, aren’t we?”

“No…I’m just really horny.”

He has to smile at that. “Yeah? Me too. This is good, but I'd rather be balls deep in you.”

“Fuck, I’d like it.”

Sweat beads on his forehead, but he just wipes it away with the back of his hand and keeps going. The music has changed to something more upbeat and he knows this is his shot for home plate.

“Really? Is that why you’re making a mess? I can hear it, you know...you’re so fucking wet.”

“Shit, I wanna come,” your words are barely recognizable and you just keep begging him for more, “please help me.”

“Fuck, sweetheart. Take your fingers out and rub your clit. Spread that sticky shit all over it and get yourself off.”

He throws his head back and curls his toes, bracing himself for the impact of his orgasm. This has to top he sexual encounters and he’s not even touching you. It’s just something about you that’s driving him insane. He doesn’t even know your name, but he doesn’t need to, not when all that matters now is the pleasure of this experience.

“I’d lick it all up too, eat you out until you cry and forget your own fucking name. You want that, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, I wanna feel you so bad.”

“I know, baby. You’d let me take you anyway I’d like, wouldn’t you?...I could bend you over? Dick you down with your legs pinned by your head. I fuck you up, princess and you’d never want another.”

“Fuck, I’m gonna—”

Dead silence.

“Are you kidding me? Fuck!”

The phone hangs up just as you both reach your climaxes. Disappointment is thick in the air as his quick strokes gradually begin to slow. He groans and curses angrily at the loss, and grips fistfuls of his hair in frustration. Out of all the people for this to happen to; it had to be him. Just when he thought his luck couldn’t get any worse, this happens and proves that life is just out to get him.

“Something’s gotta give, man. I can’t keep living like this.”

So, he shrugs off his needs and does what he does best—work. He puts on his headphones and hopes that one of these tracks will be the one that opens the door to all of his dreams.

Two years later…

“This is your boy Jay Millz, and you're listening to Q107.9. We got my man Suga in the motherfuckin’ building. This guy has the hottest track on the radio right now, bro. He’s gonna be chilling with us for a minute while we dip into the Rush Hour Mix with DJ Reign. Suga! How you doin’, man?...”

He nods and greets the guy behind the mic. They extend their arms for a brief handshake before he continues. “What’s good? Glad to be here, man.”

Yoongi looks around the table and sighs. He’s tired of the same fucking questions.

What’s next for you? How does it feel to be the hottest rapper out right now? Will you sign with SlaughterHouse Records?

As if he’d leave a crumb behind for the tabloids to fight over. Yoongi’s been careful; really careful. He’s worked hard to maintain a decent reputation; besides a few run-ins with the law. But overall, he’s avoided anything that could damage the image he’s created for his pseudo.

Many have tried to tear him down, or trip him up. However, he knows how to handle those people, and that’s what he’s about to do when the woman across from him asks the question lingering on the tip of her tongue. He knows it’s coming; he can tell by the way her nails tap on the table. She waits for silence and then she goes for the kill.

“So…Suga, you know I have to ask.”

The other co host sighs with an exhausted eyeroll. “Bee, please don’t start.”

“I have to. The people wanna know,” she argues and Yoongi can feel his head starting to throb.

It’s bad enough that he hates these things and they cannot stop themselves from trying to dabble in his personal life.

“Anyway, are you currently dating anyone, Suga? A fan? A girlfriend?...etc?”

Yoongi looks to his left and gives her a lazy smirk, just fucking with her mind a bit before he responds.

“Nahh, I’m good. Gotta stay focused, you feel me?”

He takes a sip from his cup and savors the cold liquor before he gulps it down, watching the poor girl slump her shoulders in defeat. However, he was a fool to think this was over.

“And what about Mu$ic Fairy?” the interviewer to his right asks.

“What about her?”

He sets down his cup and turns in the man’s direction.

“She dropped a new playlist last night. I know a lot of us would have gone to see about that by now.”

Yoongi scoffs out a laugh. “Well, I’m not a lot of us, am I?”

“Damn right,” Jay chimes in from across the table. He notices Bee shaking her head in the corner and he couldn’t agree with her more. This is ridiculous.

This girl, “Mu$ic Fairy” or whatever she calls herself is nothing but a fucking distraction. No one can resist bringing her up when he’s in the room. There’s no fucking escape.

At first, it was cute. A few Spotify playlists dropped every once in a while with a rather risqué cover just to tease, but now it’s an entire movement. Some fans are even calling themselves fairies, and wearing themed attire to his performances.

He fucking hates it. The wings, the glitter, the overly sweet tones in which they speak. Of course, he appreciates his fans and they’re fun to look at, but Yoongi’s a picky guy. And if that’s the kind of girl you are, then you aren’t his type.

“I would’ve probably hit her up after she dropped the Fre@kii Ho @nthem! playlist.”

Jay bumps fists with the other guy host after he says that and they have a “same” moment.

Bee adds her input after it quiets down.

“Well, I’m going to have to agree with—”

“Do not…say her name around me,” Yoongi intervenes.

He can’t; not when he has a show tonight. Just hearing her name pisses him off.

Another reason he hates doing interviews is because someone always has to mention…

“Oh, are you talking about that podcaster?...Damn, what’s her name…”

Jay struggles to remember while snapping his fingers, so Bee attempts to help him out. However, Yoongi cuts her off before she can speak of the devil.

“Don’t you dare.”

The woman once again backs down and carries on.

“Well anyway, I agree with you know who. She makes valid points about how none of these people were after him before he started making industry music. They don’t really fuck with the real Suga.”

Yoongi only nods his head because the annoying bitch behind that podcast is right. This Mu$ic Fairy chick started showing up when he became popular and so did her followers. But that’s about one of the only things he agrees with. Everything else is out of line. This woman doesn’t know anything about him, but yet always has an input to give when it comes to his music.

One of the interviewers notices his change in demeanor and senses the hatred he has for this chick. He steps in and changes the subject quickly.

“Shit, we’re almost out of time. That’s what happens when you’re chillin’ with one of the greatest to ever do it.”

Yoongi shakes his head. “Nahh, man. Don’t put that on me yet. Give me some time.”

“Many would have to disagree with you there, bro. Matter of fact, you should ask them. Why don’t you tell the listeners where you’re gonna be tonight?”

“Yuh, tonight you can catch me at the Varsity. Tickets sold out, but yeah…fuck with me.”

The interviewers briefly share a round of applause before Jay concludes.

“Alright. You heard him. Tickets sold out, but who knows ladies…he might just take you home for the after party, right bro?”

Yoongi can only press his lips in a straight line because anyone that knows him, knows that a piece of ass is the last thing on his mind right now, but for the sake of some poor girl’s imagination…

“Yeah, we’ll see.”

And because of this, he’s probably going to have to fight his way out of the club.

The rush Yoongi gets from being on stage always lingers in his veins even after the music stops. The crowd keeps the energy going and going. They scream his name, applaud his techniques, and praise his stage presence like he’s a king. He is, in a way. Suga is the king of this city; there isn’t a guy who doesn’t want to be him or a woman who doesn’t want to fuck him.

Typically, temptation is easy to resist since his career leaves him little time for extracurricular activities. However, sometimes he just can’t allow something to slip away. Not again.

“You killed it tonight, man.”

Yoongi doesn’t even spare his manager a glance as he brushes past him. His train of vision is focused on that little black dress swaying through the crowd. If he takes his eyes off of you for a second, he knows he’ll lose you in the mass of people.

“Thanks, dude. I’ll talk to you in a bit.”

He doesn’t know what was said in response because he’s out of range within seconds. He’s a man on a mission, and he’s not even sure of why.

You’re beautiful, there’s no denying that—and sexy. But something else about you is just luring him in, and he thinks he knows why. At least, that’s his excuse for following you outside of the club.

It’s dangerous, of course, since anyone could be waiting to get him alone. But tonight he can’t let you just leave without a word. He’s done that too many times. You show up to show after show, stare him down as if he’s your last meal, then leave without even a wave or goodbye.

Yoongi’s had enough; this ends now.

“Hey!”

You immediately stop in your tracks at the sound of his voice. He wastes no time trying to eliminate the distance between you, but you dash down an adjacent alley before he can get close enough to talk to you.

He follows you, and calls out to you one more time before you halt and finally respond to him.

“Hey there.”

Your voice is so dulcet, but edgy…and familiar. Where has he heard it before?

“Looking for me?” The closer he gets the more clearer the sound becomes and eventually it clicks. He knows exactly why he knows your voice.

But you aren’t the person he thought you were, and you’re the last person he wants to see.

“You’re that podcaster, aren’t you?” Yoongi questions, approaching you carefully. At least his mind still holds the common sense to be cautious.

When you look over shoulder, it’s like his breath leaves his body. He’s seen his share of gorgeous women, but you are out of this world. There’s no way you could be her. But everything is telling him that you are.

“Depends…who wants to know?”

Yoongi doesn’t know where to look first. Your face or the body that comes along with it. “You or the bitches who want to be like me?”

The moment he’s close enough to hear the cockiness oozing from your voice, he knows it’s you without a doubt. He can feel the same aura radiating from you now that he does whenever he listens to those podcasts. You’re her; he’s a hundred percent sure of it.

“So you’re bold behind the mic, but now you’re too pussy to look at me?”

You turn around on queue, adorning a wide smirk that he’d give anything to wipe off your gorgeous face. “Better?”

Yoongi nods slowly and takes a few steps towards you. With every step he takes you move backwards, allowing him to corner you and in the dimly lit alley.

“It’s funny because with all the shit you talk on air, I didn’t take you to be a runner,” he points out.

“I don’t think you know me well enough to assume that, love.”

“But you know me well enough to critique my music?”

You hum. “I do, actually.”

“Really?” When your back nearly touches the brick wall, he leans in a little closer. You show no signs of uneasiness so he plants his palm on brick structure and hovers over your shorter frame. “What makes you believe that?”

“Because I’ve been a fan for a very long time. Ever since your underground days. You’ve never noticed me…but I was there.”

When he gives you a look, you roll your eyes. Of course, he doesn’t believe a word that pretty mouth of yours spits out.

“Your first real gig was on your birthday. You were a senior in high school and you invited your parents to the show. You looked around and when you finally saw them you smiled like a fucking dork.”

Damn. You read him like a book, but that doesn’t make up for the negativity spilled on your behalf.

“So you’ve been following me to shows so you can build up the repertoire for your little podcast? For how long?”

You shake your head in denial.

“I followed you because you’ve always been my favorite artist. I admire you, and I’ve been around since the beginning. Even when nobody was fucking with your music…your real music. The kind you’re passionate about.”

Yoongi scoffs. “Like you would know anything about that.”

“But, I do. That’s why I’m so pissed at you. All you make is industry music now, and I’m just…bored, I guess.”

You’re cute when you shrug your shoulders, but your eyes are lethal. He feels like he’s being stripped bare under your gaze. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say you were silently flirting with him, but they’d be a reach.

“So find a hobby,” he suggests.

“I did find hobbies. The podcast, the playlists, the—”

“Wait,” Yoongi’s face contorts with confusion at those words, believing that he’s misheard you, “...you said playlists. What playlists?”

Your smirk returns and Yoongi suddenly feels his cock slowly rising in his underwear. Why do the heavens place the demons in the most beautiful women; he’ll never understand.

“You know which playlists I’m talking about, love…” your hand makes a move to touch his shoulder but he grabs your arm to prevent contact, “they were made for you.”

“Made for me? What does…”

Oh, damn.

“Are you…?”

“Well, it sure isn’t the whore in there dressed like Tinkerbell. You think I’d wear that shit?” Your laugh is so intoxicating; he almost cracks a smile just standing there watching you. “I don’t need all of that to grasp your attention. I never have.”

Yoongi shakes his head. All this time you were right under his nose. Two women he could never stand to mention are placed right in front of him, hiding behind a goddess. It’s pure comedy; his reaction to the news should have him pulling away from you and heading in the opposite direction.

But can admit that he judges a book by its cover; you aren’t what he thought you were. You’re different, interesting…someone he’d actually like to have underneath him in the opportunity ever presents itself. But he’s confused…why him? Why go through all the trouble if the music is all you care about? That whole Mu$ic Fairy concept has completely fucked with his mind.

How does he go from having no interest to wanting to see what it’s all about? There has to be more to it; otherwise, it makes no sense. You two are strangers.

He shouldn’t crave the warmth beneath his palm while his hand grips your forearm, but he does. The skin to skin contact should not arouse him so easily, but there’s no denying the bulge forming in his pants. Despite all of this, Yoongi keeps his composure the best he can; you’re too cocky for him to just slip up and expose himself.

“Out of all the times to fuck with me…” he pauses when your beautiful glossed lips part to blow the strawberry bubblegum you’ve been chewing. Your tongue darts out to pop and collect the medium-sized pink bubble, and he can feel his knees buckle when you suck it back in.

He’s usually not this fond of people and gum, but the way you handle it, the way you slowly rolled it over your tongue in preparation was a fucking sinful, and he can’t get enough of watching you do it.

“Why tonight?” he asks you.

You bat your thick lashes, probably knowing good and well what you’re doing to him. He knows you’re taunting him, silently asking for him to make a move, but he won’t. You’ll have to beg him for it.

“Because…I’m horny, and I’m tired of waiting for your clueless ass to figure this out.”

Yoongi scoffs. “Bullshit.”

He looks down as your finger loops underneath one of his chains and tugs him closer, something he wouldn’t allow anyone to do, but somehow you already earned privileges. You don’t know how dangerous of a game you’re playing with him, but he silently prays you’ll get to find out. He’d give anything to bend over the hood of his car and—

“And, I think you owe me something,” you inform, placing your other hand on his shoulder once he slides his to your waist.

“What might that be, love?”

Your smirk widens as you hypnotize him with your brown orbs. He can smell your perfume and flavored gum even better from this proximity, and your scent makes him feel like he’s in some sort of blissful haze—intoxicated by the smell of you. It’s no secret that he wants you bad; he just can’t let you know that. Not until you tell him why you’re doing all of this.

“An orgasm.”

Everything grows quiet after you articulate those words. It only takes him a couple of seconds to remember, and when his mind processes it all, his brain nearly malfunctions as he tries to speak.

“You’re fucking with me,” he insists.

“You should know by now that I’m tired of the games, Yoongi.” His body shutters when you use his real name. Something he’d normally go off about, but he never wants you to stop saying it. He needs to hear you say it again; for an entirely different reason. “You can tell me to fuck off, if you want.”

He blinks a few times, not realizing he was just standing there and not saying anything.

“No, no. I’m just–wow…I never expected you to remember me.”

“Why wouldn’t I? It’s not everyday you’re matched with your favorite rapper on a sex hotline,” you wink and Yoongi’s mouth falls open.

“You knew it was me the whole time?...and you didn’t say anything?”

You nod. “Yeah, I did. Your voice, your demeanor; I knew from the start, but I played along because you obviously weren’t on the call to talk about mixtapes. I just wanted you to enjoy yourself, I guess.”

“This is fucking crazy.”

Yoongi’s speechless. That was kind, and you kept it a secret all this time. Suddenly, all of this seems kind of sexy. It’s a secret he could have been in on if only he had read between the lines. However, he knows now, and it’s still technically still a secret…if it stays between you and him.

Your lips are once again his main focus; he’s so close to living the fantasies he had of you all those nights he wondered about how you handled yourself after the phone call ended. Did you come? Or was your mood ruined like his? He sure hopes not, because you were incredible and if anyone deserved to finish, it should have been you.

He was right about you too. You are sexy, and the longer he stands here with you, the harder it is for him to hold back on his urges. But hearing your needy voice breaks him entirely.

“How much longer am I going to have to wait for it, Yoongi?”

All regards for his reputation goes out the window. He looks towards both ends of the alley before he makes his move. Anyone could be watching, but once he feels your hands sliding up his body, he decides that that is no longer his concern.

“Come here.”

Yoongi grabs you by your throat, but doesn’t squeeze or choke you. He just wants you closer, and your eyes tell him you understand where he’s going from.

“I live 20 minutes away from here, think you can wait that long?”

“Do I have a choice?” you reply and that sass is what gets him riled up.

He doesn’t think twice about kissing your pillow soft lips. He’s been staring at them, wishing he could feel them, taste them, and now he is and he already can’t get enough. The level of sweetness on his taste buds is sinful, but it’s one addiction he’d never give up.

His tongue enters your mouth without any resistance from you, and he eagerly explores its depths, getting familiar with the woman wrapped in his arms as if he has all the time in the world with you. Your moans sends vibrations through his throat when he lifts your leg, nuzzling his crotch against your heat.

Yoongi would fuck you right now while he has you pinned against this wall but that just wouldn’t satisfy his thirst for you. You’ve been teasing him for too long for him to just rush this. It took two years to lead up to this moment, a quickie would never do it any justice.

“I need you to be on your best behavior until we get to my place,” he tells you through his slightly labored breaths.

“And if I don’t?”

His features harden.

“Then you won’t get anything, now come on. Let’s dip before one of your friends sees me without security.”

Or…before he changes his mind. He’s had plenty of bad ideas, but this tops the list.

Breathtaking.

It’s the only thing you can think about as your eyes scan over the sleek hood of the Lamborghini Gallardo. The man’s got some taste, you have to admit. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be taking you to his place. You like the fact that he’s picky, but always chooses correctly.

You drink in the sight before—Yoongi standing there in his stage outfit, complimenting his car. The vehicle’s custom, all white except for the tires and the heavily tinted windows. You could only quiver at the image of him driving it, and when it actually happens, your mind and your mouth start to go in different directions.

He asks you basic questions like your name and where you’re from; you can only hope you’ve given him the correct answers because you cannot break away from the visual of him gripping the wheel with one hand while he’s laid back in his seat. His jewelry glistens and shines even in the darkness of his car, but your eyes still fight through the nearly blinding twinkle so you can watch the man behind it all.

You’ve wanted him since you first saw him. He came to a pep rally at your high school and you fell in love with his music and his sound—his voice especially. Sure he was a cutie, still is. But he had so much hunger, so much passion for music that you felt him on a spiritual level.

He did so well on his first performance, and you remember telling your friends how much you wanted to listen to his Soundcloud when the event was over. Of course, they laughed and thought he sucked because he didn’t fit their visual standards, but now…they probably wish they’d been a little more invested in him.

“Can you stop doing that and answer my question?”

There it is again. That voice. It drives you crazy; when he said hello to you on that hotline, you knew without a doubt you were talking to your favorite rapper.

“Wha–Doing what?”

“Eye fucking me and biting your lip like that. Do you want me to pull over?”

Well.

You open your mouth to speak but he interjects.

“Actually, never mind. Don’t even answer that. Certain things I don’t need in my head while I’m operating a vehicle.”

Your neck and face heat up. If only he knew that you aren’t as confident as you appear. He’s hot, but the fact that he doesn’t know it makes him hotter.

“Sorry,” you turn towards the window so you can smile. You don’t want to feed his ego. No matter how much he denies it, he’s cocky as hell. If he knows you’re gawking over him simply driving, he’ll run with it. “...What did you ask me?”

A slow exhale leaves his lips, like he’s slightly annoyed and you should be offended, but damn—it was kind of sexy.

“I just wanted to know what you do for a living. How can you afford to travel and come to shows all the time? ...I’m just curious.”

“Why? You think I’m selling my—”

“I wasn’t going to say that.”

“You were thinking it, and the answer is ‘no’. And no, I don’t have an OnlyFans either…probably should, though. I’d make bank,” you shrug.

“Look, I know you aren’t doing any of that. Honestly, you seem kind of selfish with the goods anyway, but…tell me how you keep up. That’s all I’m saying. Podcasts bring in that much money?”

“No they don’t, especially when you do them for free. I’m a writer. I write songs and I sell them to some of your favorite artists.”

Yoongi whistles. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Name a few.”

“This isn’t roll call, babe. If you wanna look up my credentials, you know my name now…Google me.”

“Oh, I will.”

“Fine,” you scoff.

When you look forward, you notice that you’re entering a gated community. Yoongi lets down his window and waves at the on-duty guard before the older man opens the automatic gate.

After driving past many luxurious homes, Yoongi pulls into a driveway and uses a clicker to open the garage door.

“We’re here,” he announces.

His home is lovely, and you’re in awe by the set up and interior design once you enter. You’re impressed, most guys don’t spend much thought on this level of organization.

Yoongi leads you up the stairs and into his bedroom. You can feel the butterflies in your stomach fluttering more and more as you get closer to the top of the stairs. Your knees buckle slightly when he opens the door, but your eyes still look in every direction once you’ve made it inside.

It’s dark, but you can still make out the colors that fill the room. Blacks and grays with white walls. His bed is draped with a dark set; you can’t help but find it inviting. And it’s huge; you imagine he must be a wild sleeper because you couldn’t imagine sleeping in a bed that large alone.

“I love your home, Suga.”

He waves his hand. “Thanks, but you don’t have to call me that. You didn’t call me that earlier.”

“I didn’t?”

“Nope.” He shakes his head and tells you that you can make yourself comfortable while he disappears into his closet. When he returns with clothes, you tilt your head with curiosity. “I’m gonna go shower, don’t get too nosey while you’re in here by yourself.”

“You’re leaving me? Why can’t I join you?”

Yoongi’s eyes widen for a second and a hand runs through his hair while he ponders over his answer. “Because umm…”

You crane your neck trying to coax an answer but he still stammers.

“It’s…you know.”

You smile. He’s kind of adorable, in a way.

“Too intimate?”

“Exactly.”

Your head lolls back while you laugh and Yoongi huffs in annoyance as he makes his way to the bathroom.

“What am I supposed to do while you’re in there?” you call out and he stops to turn around.

You watch him get ready to produce a smart remark. However, he pauses before he can get it out. He puts his clothes on the bed and walks over to the nightstand, turning on his laptop and grabbing some Bluetooth headphones from the drawer.

“Here,” he says, pairing them to his computer and then handing them to you. You take them before you look up at him, wondering where he’s going with this, but he’s quick to fill you in. “Listen to this, I won’t be long.”

Yoongi puts on some music and gives you a wink that makes your pussy clench. He leaves you sitting on his bed, headphones in hand without another word.

For the first minute you stare at the object wondering what’s being played, but your curiosity takes over quickly and before you know it, they’re coming over your ears. You don’t regret it the second you hear his voice.

The music begins to travel through the speakers, you become obsessed with it from the very first track. You love that it’s similar to his original sound, but it isn’t the same track over and over again. They’re all so different yet so him. You can hear and feel the amount of dedication and effort he put into it. Like it wasn’t done out of obligation, but because he wanted to do it for himself. You can’t help but get up and sway your hips to the music.

You feel so connected to him through his work, and that’s why you go on and on about how you wish he’d make another mixtape because this shit is fire. You wonder how long he’s been hiding it from the world.

You aren’t expecting him to be sitting on the bed when you turn around. Your hand finds your chest and you lower the volume on the headset.

“How long have you been sitting there? You fucking scared me.”

He shrugs. “Long enough to know that I want that dress off of you.”

Your startled expression turns smug. “Oh, really?”

“Hell, yeah.”

“So…you want me to take it off?” You raise an eyebrow.

“What do you think?”

“I think you’re going to have to use your words with me if you want something.”

Yoongi’s arms fold at his chest; his white tee strains against his beefiness. You remember how his clothes used to swallow him, but now he’s filling them up quite nicely, if you may. Either way, he looks good. It’s just a natural trait he possesses.

“I mean either you can take it off or you can leave. Doesn’t matter to me,” he shrugs his shoulders.

If you weren’t horny just looking at him sitting there in his boxers, you’d call his bluff. But you’ve already picked up on his stubbornness and you know better than to try him. “Fine.”

You sigh as you drag down the straps of your dress, rolling your eyes when he tells you to slow down. You flip your hair and twirl your body as you wiggle the fabric down your hips, turning around in the opposite direction to give him a peek at your derriere.

Looking over your shoulder, you notice how his face becomes etched with approval. You give yourself a silent applaud for selecting this piece. You’re sure your thong leaves nothing for his imagination. It also doesn’t help that you’re topless.

You stop torturing him and turn around so he can see the front.

“Damn,” is all he can say.

You take off your heels before walking towards him and his eyes never leave your breasts the entire journey, even once you’re standing between his legs, preparing to straddle his lap.

“I want you.” You tell him as if he doesn’t already know.

Yoongi’s hands find your waist while you place your knees on the bed. As soon as you’re on his lap, you can feel his bulge threatening to burst out of his underwear. It’d be so simple to pull your panties aside and milk him for everything he has, but not tonight. He’s the one who owes you a good fucking.

“How badly?”

His lips find your skin and make their way to your tits, making you clutch onto his damp curly strands while he sucks and tugs on your sensitive nipples. Your hands tug his hair, and you force him to look at your face.

“Yoongi. You’re either going to fuck me or I’m going to fuck you. What’s it going to be—”

He scoops you up and drops you on the mattress, making you squeak in surprise. The dark gleam in his orbs has your thighs rubbing and your fists clinging onto the comforter. He's finally had enough, and hopefully he doesn’t hold back anymore.

“You asked for this,” he warns you and you almost giggle with glee. He pulls his shirt over his head and is about to toss it somewhere, but then he changes his mind. Yoongi looks at you for a moment, contemplating before he speaks. “You trust me, right?”

“Well, I came home with you even though you hate me, didn’t I?...Why do you ask?”

“So a lot or a little?”

You groan.

He chuckles and you feel the butterflies once again. Yoongi turns the volume up on his laptop before holding up a thumb to ask if it is too loud. Honestly, you’re glad it tuned him out because though you understand that safety is first, there’s little you wouldn’t try when it comes to this man. You’ve been waiting as patiently as you could to experience this and you’re ready to get started.

You nod and his devilish smirk is the last thing you see before he throws his shirt over your head. Darkness fills your vision but it doesn’t bother you as long as his voice is filling your ears. His cold hands slide up your thighs and spread them, wasting no time in touching your slightly sodden underwear.

Gasps escape your lips when his finger presses gently on your clit, and you can only hope the sound isn’t too awkward since you cannot hear yourself.

The bed dips so you assume he’s climbing on and you release a breath when you feel his lips hovering over your body. He leaves kisses between your breasts and he doesn’t stop until your lace panties prevent him from accessing any more skin.

Yoongi quickly slides them off, leaving lying on his bed completely naked. Everything from the moment when his tongue dips into your center is one feverish bliss. Your back arches, your toes curl, and your fingers entangle in his hair. The sounds you’re making are probably feral and of an obnoxious volume but Yoongi doesn’t bother to shush you or stop his sinful movements.

He draws circles over your throbbing clit with his tongue, moving in the same motion as you do as you swivel your hips. This song has you in the mood to grind your pussy on his face, and that’s entirely his fault for coming up with such vulgar lyrics. It’s filthy and you feel the muscles in your stomach tightening by the seconds. You scream his name over and over but he just keeps going until you release the pressure built up inside of you.

The shirt is snatched off your face as you’re at your peak and what you see between your thighs only intensifies your orgasm. His face is buried in your heat, sucking your bundle of nerves into his mouth and nibbling gently while you squirm in his iron grip.

Yoongi kisses your inner thighs once you begin to calm down to help you relax. When you back slowly droop onto the bed is when he carefully removes the headphones, turning them off and then setting them on the nightstand next to his laptop.

“I would go back for seconds, but that would only make me want more,” he tells you. He opens the bottom drawer and pulls out some condoms then throws them on the bed.

“I don’t know if I’d survive that.”

“Well, you better say a prayer because we aren’t done,” he laughs and excitement bubbles inside of you.

Yoongi switches the music to something else and you can’t help but pout.

You sigh. “I pray you aren’t all talk.”

He glares at you for your comment and steps closer to the bed.

“You’re a sweet girl, but…” he flips you on your stomach and pulls you up by the waist, positioning you so that your ass and pussy are directly in his line of sight, “you need to watch how you fucking speak to me.”

A shriek leaves your lips when he slaps your ass. “Yoongi…please.”

“Please? You want me to stop?”

“No!” Your voice is high pitched and shaky, almost unrecognizable to your ears. “Don’t stop, please.”

Yoongi finds humor in your desperation. “Ask me nicely.”

“Fuck,” you whine but it’s the wrong answer. “Yoongi, please do it again.”

“No.”

Your breath hitches. “What?”

“I said no.”.

“Such a fucking asshole,” you mumble insults, thinking they’re too low for him to hear.

“What was that?”

You look behind you and notice Yoongi rolling a condom over his dick. You can’t tear your eyes away from the sight of those veiny hands stroking his cock slowly, preparing himself to dive into your wetness. You’ve always wondered what he looked like doing that, ever since that time on the phone.

“Nothing,” you lie.

He puts his knee on the bed and inches closer to you. You tease him by wiggling your ass a little but he places a hand on your hip to still you. “You know…”

You can feel his cock against your entrance and your body pushes back on him to try and get it inside of you yourself. However, your impatience makes you forget how petty the man behind you really is.

The tip slips past your folds and with the amount of arousal seeping from your opening, he’s able to slide in with ease. But it’s only a taste; the majority of his cock still remains outside of you, and quickly your frustration takes control of you.

“If you wanna meet an asshole…” he makes a loud gasp leave your lips when he, without warning, slams into your pussy in one smooth motion. You whimper; a harsh snatch of your hair makes you wince and grip the sheets. Your head is turned in an uncomfortable position, but the only thing you can focus on is the intensity of the stretch and the way his dick doesn’t leave any room to spare, “I could introduce you to one.”

Yoongi pushes your head forward and pins you to the mattress. Your teeth grit together because of your sensitivity. You could come just like this without him even moving. That’s how worked up you still are. You just need a moment to pull yourself together, but Yoongi doesn’t have the patience for that.

“Arch your fucking back.”

He pulls out but swiftly snaps back into you, causing you to let out a squeak. You try to cover your mouth but his large hand comes down on your ass before you can do so. Your moans turn into screams within minutes, increasing in volume each time Yoongi slaps your rear.

“I know you can do better than that. Straighten up before I do it for you,” he grunts through the lewd skin-slapping noises that fill the room.

You squeeze your eyes shut and arch your back like he demands. The position is only uncomfortable for a few seconds, but eventually it becomes familiar and the sensitivity ebbs away.

Yoongi lets go of your hair and starts rubbing his hands all over your ass, kneading the reddened flesh and giving it words of appreciation.

When you start to fuck him back he holds your waist and pulls you back on his cock. Your body begins to move naturally with the rhythm of the background music and he allows you to set the pace while he whispers obscene remarks.

“Look at you taking it just like a whore.”

You can feel the arousal between your thighs, dripping and making a mess of the sheets. The squelching sounds are disgusting but don’t phase you in this heated moment. You have more important things to worry about. Like how long you’ll be able to keep this up. You weren’t expecting him to have this much stamina, but you’ve learned to never judge a book by the cover.

He’s strong, the grip he has on you is evidence to that. The way he’s handling you like you’re nothing but a fuck toy he can use at his discretion has you clenching around his dick. His deep chuckle fills the room when he feels your walls tighten.

“On your next podcast, you should tell them how I fucked your brains out to your own playlist,” he comments.

Yoongi’s thrusts have your knees trembling and nearly giving out, but he’s quick to assure that you keep up. “No fucking slacking, whore. Do better or I’ll pull out and use your throat instead.”

You’re sure your ass will be sore in the morning because Yoongi cannot keep his hands off of it. He strikes you every chance he gets and the stinging sensation from his blows push you closer and closer to your peak.

“Fuck. Yoongi…please.”

Tears roll down your cheek when his cock travels deeper, touching the spot that makes you unravel at the seams. It’s all too much and you beg him to allow you to surrender to the pleasure.

“Not yet. Shit, do you have any idea how juicy your ass looks like this?”

“But I can’t,” you sob into the comforter.

A slap to your left cheek leaves you a shaky mess. However, he shows you no mercy and does the same thing to the other side.

“That’s not an option. If you come, I swear—”

“Sorry…” Your muffled cries are the last thing you can recall before your body accidentally gives in.

Your juices leak onto the bed while you hold on for dear life, afraid you’ll float away if you let go of the fabric. But just as your orgasm reaches its peak, it’s ripped away from you by one of the foulest humans on this planet.

“What the fuck did I tell you?” he growls as he drags you off the bed. Yoongi forces you to your knees, ignoring your pleas to regain what was stolen from you. He slaps your cheek a few times, snapping you back into reality and demanding your attention. “Answer me!”

“You…You told me not to come,” you hiccup.

His expression tells you how displeased he is, but it’s too bad that you don’t care. Something comes over you that has you sucking it up and wiping your tears. If he wants to play dirty, you can do it too.

“So why did you?...I never said that you could.”

You look up at him with innocent eyes. However, you have no intentions on being good anymore.

“Because it felt good and I wanted to,” you tell him and he grabs your face.

“You don’t get to decide what you want to do or what feels good. If you had the answers you wouldn’t have been begging for my dick for two years.”

Yoongi pulls off the condom and brings his cock to your mouth. You clench your fist to hold back the excitement when he tells you to open. You’ve craved the taste of him even though you’ve never had him. Your mouth waters as you wait for him to enter, and when he does, he doesn’t stop until reaches the back of your throat.

“Tap my thigh if you need air, and do not suck until I tell you to, understand?”

You mumble around him as best as you can. “Mmhm.”

Before you can prepare yourself for a pace you know will be relentless, Yoongi withdraws and slowly re-enters your crevice. Your eyes roll back from the fullness and addicting taste of him. You want more—need more to fulfill your desire.

Ignoring his instructions, you enclose your lips around him and begin to suck him in each time he tries to pull out. “Easy,” he warns but you keep going.

One of your hands comes up to fondle his balls and Yoongi’s deep moans begin to fill your ears. He throws his head back in pleasure while you give him, what you would consider, the best blowjob of his life. The sound he produces is the only music you want to hear. His voice holds so much lust and bass, arousal gushes from your cunt as a result.

“Fuck, I told you not to do that.”

You hum around him, sending vibrations up his shaft. The feeling brings him to his senses and he places both his hands on your head. You have to grab onto his thighs to keep yourself steady since he’s starting to take control. You try to maintain the suction but his wild movements make it impossible.

“You wanted to suck me off so badly. Keep it up,” he grunts, increasing his speed.

You choke on his dick and the sounds make him twitch in your mouth. Yoongi starts to intentionally go deeper, but he’s unsatisfied by the lack of space there is for him.

He pulls out of you, leaving you coughing and gasping at the sudden intake of air.

“Well, damn. Do I have to teach you how to suck dick too?”

Yoongi shakes his head as he looks down on you then uses his index and middle finger to open your mouth. He pushes the digits in and finds the back of your mouth with ease, pressing on the back of your tongue to make you open wider. “Stop being shy and open this pretty fucking mouth,” he demands, making you gag on his fingers.

Your eyes water and spit drips down your chin. You must look like a complete mess, but Yoongi cannot take his eyes off of you.

“Now show me, and I’ll give you some more.”

You’re scolded before you can even wrap your lips around his fingers.

“Stop being fucking lazy.” He gives your cheek a few more slaps before shoving his fingers deeper into your mouth.

This time you slurp and allow your saliva to coat his digits. ”Fucking, right. Now open up and milk this dick.”

Yoongi removes his fingers and replaces them with his cock. This time you just open your mouth and let him in. He uses your head like a fleshlight and drills into you at a rapid speed. You try your best to keep eye contact and breath through your nose, but then out of nowhere he buries his cock down your throat.

There’s an intense burning in your airways due to lack of oxygen but it’s nothing you can’t handle. The rush takes you so high you become slightly lightheaded, sending a tingling sensation straight to your center. Nothing but music, the sound of you choking on his dick, and his sound of pleasure can be heard and the way he calls your name sends your ego through the roof.

“Shit, I’m gonna come. Stay just like this, sweetheart.”

Within five long thrusts, his warm seed deposits on your tastebuds. You try to swallow everything but he pulls out quickly and empties the rest on your lips and chin. Your tongue tries to gather as much as you can, but some places are impossible to reach.

“Come here.” Yoongi pulls you from the floor and brings you closer, greeting you with a sloppy kiss once you’re on your feet. He laps up all the cum on your face and gathers it all on his tongue before he feeds it to you. You savor the taste of both of you as the kiss prolongs, and even after he pulls away you can’t help but remember how good he tasted.

If you had to guess which body part Yoongi favors the most, you’d say it was your lips. He can’t tear his eyes away from them. You bite them, he shudders. You lick them, his cock twitches. So you can’t control yourself when it comes to teasing him and pressing them against his soft skin.

“You must want another round if you keep that up,” he mentions as you make your way to his earlobe. You nibble on it gently before you whisper in his ear.

“I just wanna come one more time before you kick me out.”

“Who said I was kicking you out?”

“You aren’t?”

Yoongi ushers you to his bed and helps you lie down before he joins you. He hovers over you once again and his hand snakes between your thighs.

“I definitely am, but not right now. I’m not done with you,” he informs, fingers entering your heat while his thumb caresses your clit.

“Well, hurry up then.”

He frowns. “Do you ever shut up?”

“Yeah, whenever someone has the balls to make me shut up—”

“Interesting,” he states after his hand pins your neck to the mattress. “Let’s test that theory.”

Yoongi’s digits begin to move in and out of your wetness, producing more lewd noises and causing your body to shake with sensitivity.

“Yoongi.”

His name flows past your lips like water. It’s the only word you can think of at the moment. Having been worked up all this time with no relief makes you desperate to satisfy the lingering desire that’s settled in the pit of your stomach.

“Feels good, huh?”

It feels damn good. Your hips buck off the bed to match his movements so you can chase your high. “Yes…more.”

“More?”

His hand tightens its grip and restricts your air supply. He knows how close to the edge it takes you by now and he doesn’t hesitate to use it against you.

“Say please and I’ll make you come all over my fingers,” he chuckles, knowing you can’t respond like this.

You try to speak, but everything gets trapped in your throat. You can only claw at his chest, begging him to guide you to your release. He loosens his grip and through your coughs you manage to give him the answer he wants.

“Please. I can’t take it.”

Yoongi gives you a fake pout, squeezing your face between his fingers. “But you can…watch this.”

His fingers curl inside of you and you’re seeing stars. Your nails dig into his arm, body arching off the bed due to the intense wave of pleasure that hits you. You try to run, but he pins you down and forces you to accept the mind-blowing orgasm you were begging for.

“You talked a bunch of shit, now back it up, love,” Yoongi tells you while your walls clench around him. His hand covers your mouth, preventing your screams from waking up the neighbors as if it isn’t already too late for that. “Let’s see if this cunt’s worth the headache.”

The coil snaps and your body stiffens. Yoongi’s deep voice continues to degrade you as your juices squirt all over his bed. Even though you cry out from the sensitivity he fucks you until the last drop. Your body just falls on the bed once he’s done with you, and you move into a fetal position when he carefully slides out his fingers.

The aftershock of your release has you twitching, but the bliss you feel is superior. This is what it feels like to get fucked out, and you knew he would be the person to deliver. Satisfied would be an understatement because you weren’t expecting to be stuck like this after you were done. Usually, you’re able to get up and go before they can return from the bathroom, but tonight you can only lay there in silence while Yoongi cleans you up with a warm cloth.

“I didn’t break you, huh?”

“The opposite, actually,” you laugh weakly.

“Good.” He lays his body beside you and wraps his arm around your waist, enjoying the familiar beat that plays into the dark room. It’s your phone sex song; the beat he played to help you relax. “Remember this?”

“Yeah, how can I forget?”

“You keep saying that like I’m always on your mind.”

“Maybe you are,” you reply.

A soft scoff comes from behind you. “I hope you’re joking.”

“I’m not.”

There’s silence, then eventually a long sigh.

“I want you gone before I wake up, okay?”

You shake your head. Not in disbelief because it’s what you expected, but because he can’t read between the lines. But you aren’t naïve and you know when someone wants you just as bad as you want them. So for now, you’ll be patient.

“Fair enough,” you answer.

Satisfied, he rolls over and drifts off into sleep, leaving you awake to wallow in your thoughts. It seemed best to just get up and leave then, but it takes nearly an hour to regain your strength. And just when you think it’s safe for you to slip away and consider this night one of the good memories, the warmth you felt before returns and pulls you closer—it is then that your eyes become heavy and you submit to the comfort you know you aren’t supposed to have.

When Yoongi wakes up and finds a cold empty bed, he can only throw his head back in frustration. He hopes…no, he prays he didn’t say anything to make you feel like he wasn’t interested. He knows he can be a dick, but he was just pissed and horny last night. You’re not easy to handle, but he likes that about you. You aren’t afraid to put him in his place.

He rolls out of bed and the first thing he notices is that his laptop is still playing music, so he makes turning it off his first task. However, once he enters the password, he finds an opened document with a typed note in the center of the page.

If you ever think of me, just call...If you want?

Yoongi’s speechless, and out of his damn mind. That’s the only excuse he has for picking up his phone and calling the number you left at 9 am in the damn morning. The longer the phone rings, the more regret fills him. He can’t help but think you left that there to tease him for calling you so quickly. He tries to hang up but before he can remove the phone from his ear the ringing stops and your beautiful voice blesses him once again.

“Hello?”

He panics, and doesn’t respond. He searches the room frantically and finds his excuse lying on the floor right in front of him.

“Yeah, you left your earring. Looks expensive,” he murmurs before he clears his throat.

“Oh, I’m wearing both of mine now. Must be for someone else.”

Embarrassment washes over him as he stands there naked in his bedroom. How could he be so stupid? That thing’s probably months old, if not longer. He wonders if you saw it. Maybe that’s why you left.

“I’m kidding, Yoongi. If it’s a gold hoop, it’s mine,” you laugh and he feels a weight left from his shoulders.

The idea of you finding stuff that belongs to other women in his home doesn’t put a good feeling in his chest. He also doesn’t want you to think of him as someone who lets anyone in his home because he’s not that kind of guy.

“Haha, you’re so funny,” he says once your giggles cease.

“And you’re sarcastic.”

Still sharp as hell. He thinks to himself.

“Whatever.” He takes a seat on his bed and rests his back against the headboard while he checks emails on his laptop and uses small talk to melt away the awkwardness. “So…you left in a hurry, huh?”

Smooth.

“You told me you wanted me gone before you woke up, remember?”

Of course, he did. Because he’s an idiot.

“Yeah, I was just fucking with you, though. I would have given you a ride or something, you know.”

“No worries. I made it to my hotel room safely,” you assure and he releases a sigh of relief.

“Well, that’s good. Glad to hear that.”

“Mmhm, miss me already, huh?...too bad you kicked me out.”

“Honestly, I thought I was gonna wake up to some tits in my face, but that’s fair.”

There’s some shuffling in the background like you’re moving something, but he doesn’t ask any questions about it.

“Can you remember anything from last night?” you ask him after a beat of silence.

His fingers run through his hair as he thinks about all the filthy images replaying in his mind.

“Well yeah, I remember you, of course. You were fucking incredible. But everything after that moment was a blur. Please don’t tell me I did something stupid.”

“No, you’re good. I had fun.”

So did he. He wishes it’d happen again, and again. “And you’re okay too, right?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. My ass is sore and I can barely sit down, but I feel good. Thanks for that.”

Thank heavens you are. He knows how rough he was and most women aren’t into that but you took it and enjoyed it. You were fun to play with, and now his cock twitches at the thought of what your ass must look like now, covered in his marks.

“What about you?”

“I’m fine, love. Bummed about having to work, but I’m good,” he responds.

“Well, I’m glad you’re okay. And I’m sorry I kept you up when you have to work this morning.”

“Don’t apologize for that. I enjoyed your company, and…”

He almost told you that he missed you, but caught himself at the last minute.

“And what?”

“Uhh, nothing,” he gulps. “I was reading something…Forgot what I was going to say.”

“O’kay.”

Yoongi can tell by the sound of your voice that you don’t buy it.

“Yup,” is all he can say in response.

After a minute or two of both of you just holding the phone, you finally say something to keep the conversation going. “Yoongi?”

“Hm…”

“Are you busy right now or…?”

He places his laptop beside him because he can assure that whatever he has to do isn’t as important as this.

“No, what’s up?”

“Well, it’s about last night,” you admit.

Now, he’s kind of nervous. What else happened while he was in his post orgasmic bliss.

“Yeah, what about it?”

Yoongi stays on the line waiting patiently for your answer, and it’s one he doesn’t expect.

“Well, you still owe me, you know?”

Interesting.

“And what do you mean by that?” he questions.

“Well…”

Yoongi already knows where this is going and luckily he knows exactly how to handle this situation. “Not satisfied, are you, baby?”

“No, I am. But…”

He chuckles. “You want some more?”

“If it isn't too much trouble. And if you have time, of course.”

You’re as sly as a fox and you know how to get what you want. It’s hot, but he’s going to have to humble you before he does anything else.

“No trouble at all, baby. Do me a favor, and spread your legs for me.”

“Okay.”

He hears some more movement and then you return, prepared to do anything he tells you in the hopes of pleasuring yourself. You tell him once you’re ready and he provides you with more instructions, in which you follow without question.

“Now, facetime me and place the phone between your thighs so I can see your pretty pussy.”

Within a second, his phone notifies him of an incoming facetime call. He answers it and finds you sitting in your hotel room. You’re wearing a large shirt but he can still see the fresh blooms from where he took your skin between his teeth the night before creeping up your neck. He can’t stop the smirk from spreading across his face.

He curses when he sees your cunt, all glistening and wet with your juices. His mouth waters but he pushes his filthy thoughts in the back of his mind.

“This is what you’re going to do,” he starts, watching in awe as strings of arousal snap while you’re scissoring yourself in his presence, “...you’re going to imagine me fucking your brains out and you’re gonna use that image to get yourself off…without me.”

“Yoongi—”

He tsks. “I’m not your man, and making you come is not my job, baby.”

“But…”

If he gave a fuck, he’d break hearing how desperate and needy your voice sounds, but you need to understand that he isn’t going to come every time you call for him. He’s a busy man and he doesn’t need distractions.

“But nothing…Now, bye. Have fun.”

He hangs up just as you start to curse at him and yell into the phone. But he knows this isn’t over; you’re probably getting a ride over to his place right now, and that’s exactly what he wanted.

You were able to just walk out of here this morning without even waking him. That doesn’t sit right with him, and there’s only one solution for it really—

He’s just going to have to fuck you harder during round two…

And maybe, just maybe…get to know you a little bit after.

We’ll see.

#yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #bts smut #bts x reader #suga x reader #suga smut #bangtanbathhouse #festivaledaway #bangtansorciere #btsdreamcourt #yoongi imagine #bts imagines #yoongi fanfics #bts fanfics #sugakookitty

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wayward-dreamer · 6 months

Text

Better Late Than Never

Square/s Filled: Snowed In @anyfandomfluffbingo | FREE @jacklesversebingo |

Pairing: Dean x F!Reader

Word count: 2,017

Summary: Dean and Y/N find themselves snowed in at Bobby's cabin. With a little whiskey and a cozy fire, it leaves Dean vulnerable to admit something to her he's been keeping to himself for some time.

Warnings: Minor angst, 99% fluff, brief mention of erotica.

A/N: I've had to forego tag lists as battling with dumblr isn't worth risking my mental health lol. So please go ahead and follow @wayward-dreamers-library and turn on notifications, if you want to read my stuff.

Anyway, I hope y'all enjoy this, because it's been a while since I've written a Dean one shot. Thanks to my besties and beta's @hintsofhoney and @makeadealwithdean for looking over this one! <3

Dean pushed the door open, the gust of chilly air causing it to hit the wall as he hurried inside, forcing it closed against the wind and shutting the cold out. He unwrapped the thick scarf from his neck, breathing heavily as the warmth from the fireplace in the living area thawed his frozen nose. He pulled the gloves off his hands and took off his leather jacket, hanging it up on the rack next to the door, before turning around, frowning at the quietness in the cabin.

“Y/N?”

Suddenly, he heard boots coming up the stairs from the basement, Y/N’s head appearing from the hatch followed by the rest of her, as she carried a big box in her hands.

“Hey,” she nodded at him as she set the box down on the dining table. “I hope you’re hungry for canned chicken soup because that’s all there was.”

“Well, as great as liquid salt in a can sounds,” he began with his signature sarcasm in place, “I got a few other things to eat, and something absolutely necessary to get through the next few days.”

He reached into one of the bags, pulling out two bottles of Bourbon, smirking as he placed them on the table. “We’re really livin’ it up here, huh?” he jested, chuckling.

“Oh yeah, it’s a real Four Seasons vibe,” she added, rolling her eyes as her laughter joined his.

“Called Bobby, told him we pulled in here and we’re gonna be staying until they clear the roads in the morning or the next,” he informed, taking out two glasses from the kitchen cabinets. “Said if we break anything, we owe him.”

“Sounds about right,” she muttered.

“So, looks like it’s just you and me,” he said, handing her a glass and cracking the seal on the bottle, pouring a generous amount into it. “Hope you don’t get sick of my face ‘cause there’s no tellin’ how long we’re gonna be here for.”

“As long as you don’t annoy me, I think we’re good,” she said, looking between her glass and him.

“Oh come on, where’s the fun in that?” he teased, smirking before he poured some bourbon for himself.

They clinked their glasses together before Y/N took a sip, turning away from him to avoid his gaze. Being in close proximity to Dean like this for God-only-knows-how-long was a dream scenario in her head. In reality, it was a nightmare. She had harbored feelings for him for longer than she cared to admit, and now being around him constantly until she finally got to leave was going to be incredibly difficult. She had to keep her bourbon intake low too; there was no telling what she would confess with too much of it in her system. She thought it was just a stupid crush she had from the first hunt they met on, something that would fade away soon enough. Then they kept meeting up, sometimes because a phone call from Sam would convince her to join them on a particular hunt, and other times by coincidence.

More cases led to more time around each other, until they became a pretty permanent part of each other’s lives. She’d even go as far as to say they were really good friends, which just made being in love with him even more complicated. Sam had been trying for a while now to get her to be part of their team, that it was better than her hunting alone, but she couldn’t do it.

Why torture herself with spending every single day in Dean’s presence when nothing was going to happen?

That was exactly what happened, however, when Sam got injured on a hunt and was resting up at Bobby’s. It had forced Dean to call her in on a vampire case, telling her he needed backup as the next was larger than he could take of on his own. The drive back to Bobby’s had been difficult, as the snow started falling harder, and they both knew they had to pull into his Montana cabin until the impending storm was over, as that was the closest place they could get to. It was five days and counting being alone with the man she had feelings for, and she wasn’t sure she’d survive it any longer.

“I’m gonna keep outta your hair until dinner, I promise,” he proclaimed, walking past her. “How does 7 sound?”

“Sounds great,” she replied, smiling. “Thanks.”

“All good, sweetheart,” he smirked, turning on his boot to face her again. “Plus, I know you need some time with that dirty book in your duffle bag you think I don’t know about-”

“Dean!” she yelled as her eyes widened, her reflexes kicking in quickly as she picked up a couch cushion and hurled it at him.

He threw his head back as he guffawed, stumbling to catch the cushion in his hand and tossing it back on the couch. He shook his head as he continued to chuckle to himself, walking into the bedroom he’d be using and shut the door. She glared at the wooden barrier, dropping down on the sofa and taking a big sip of the amber liquid in her glass. She really had no desire to read her book now that it had been discovered.

At least she still had plenty of other fantasies to keep her company once she retreated to her room for the night.

“Fucking… piece of–son of a bitch,” Dean muttered under his breath, battling with the ancient TV antenna.

Y/N pressed her lips together to keep from laughing, her eyes squinting as the glare coming off the screen as the static black and white crackled. “It’s no use, Dean.”

“This is literally the only thing to do here other than research. I’m fixing this thing,” he grumbled, glaring at the antenna.

“I saw a deck of cards in one of the drawers,” she stated, pointing towards the kitchen.

“Fine,” he lamented.

He finally gave up, turning off the TV with a scowl on his face. He retrieved the deck from the kitchen and sat across from Y/N, shuffling them quickly before dealing them out between them.

“Care to make it interesting?” he asked, grinning as he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“If you’re thinking strip poker, you better think again, Winchester,” she countered, an unamused expression on her face.

He rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “You’re no fun, Y/N.”

“I know,” she giggled.

They played a few rounds of regular poker, with Dean winning the first round and then losing the next two. He grumbled as he handed his money over, but Y/N promised that she’d save it to buy drinks the next time they were at a bar. He stood up and put another log on the fire, before grabbing the bottle of bourbon and pouring some more for himself. He picked up her glass, which caused her to bite her lip, nervously. She knew she really shouldn’t, in fear that she might admit something she couldn’t if she had anymore to drink than she already had.

“Uh, Dean… I think I’m good,” she said, covering the glass with her hand.

“It’s not like we’re leaving any time soon,” he stated, gesturing at the snow outside.

She sighed, handing over her glass. She knew he had a point. “You twisted my arm.”

He poured her some before he took his place on the couch again. They fell into a comfortable silence, her eyes focused on the flickering flames and crackling of the fire. Dean looked at her, a soft smile pulling at his lips as he noticed the peace on her features. She always looked beautiful, but when she was completely relaxed and had no worries that plagued her was when she looked the most stunning. He could never tell her that though; he didn’t know how she’d react. He had liked her from the moment he met her, but he wasn’t sure if she felt remotely the same. He didn’t really want to find out, fearing that she wouldn’t.

“I can feel your eyes on me,” she broke the silence, glancing over at him.

“Sorry,” he muttered, frowning at the fact that she caught him.

“It’s okay, Dean,” she reassured him, resting her head back against the couch as she kept her eyes on him. “Anything on your mind?”

He took a sip of bourbon, staring down into the glass. “Nope.”

“That was a long pause,” she observed, smirking. “Okay, spill. There’s clearly something.”

“I was taking a sip,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, but there was still a lot of silence,” she argued.

“Y/N, it’s-it’s really nothing-” he started but his words dissolved on his tongue as she shifted closer to him on the sofa.

“Is it about Sam?” she asked. She knew his little brother was always a source of worry for him.

“No,” he replied, taking a large gulp of the alcohol in the tumbler.

“Is it about Bobby?”

“What is this, twenty questions?” he responded, annoyed at the third degree.

“No,” she sighed, holding his gaze. “It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me. I shouldn’t push it.”

His eyes closed briefly as he let out a deep exhale, his lids fluttering open as he looked at her. “No, it’s not about Bobby.”

Their eyes never left each other as she thought his words over for a moment. “Is it about me?”

He knew he couldn’t ignore the question, or what he felt for her any longer. “Yes.”

She was taken aback by his answer, instantly fearing that she had done something wrong. She shifted closer to him, the scent of his aftershave tickling her nose, a couple of inches still between them.

“Dean, whatever it is… you can tell me,” she whispered, slowly curling her hand over his.

He could’ve explained himself through words, but he had never been good at expressing his feelings that way. Actions always spoke louder.

With their gazes still locked, her heart began to beat rapidly in her chest as his green orbs stared down at her, making her gulp at how close they were to each other. He slowly leaned in, and before she even realized it, a gasp escaped her just as his lips pressed against hers in a soft kiss. Her eyes fluttered closed as he squeezed her hand in his, allowing herself to move closer to him. She lifted her other hand, cupping his face and letting her thumb stroke over the chiseled line of his jaw, a low moan leaving her as his tongue slipped between her lips, deepening the embrace.

It was over just as quickly as it began, leaving her breathless when he pulled away, both of them staring at each other. Dean shook his head, hoping he hadn’t overstepped, that he hadn’t just ruined everything between them. A small smile, hopeful but weary, pulled at her lips.

“I wish you would’ve done that sooner,” she admitted, laughing.

He grinned. “Better late than never, I guess.”

She leaned into him, her hand resting over his heart covered by his red and black plaid shirt, her forehead pressed against his. She couldn’t really believe what had just happened, feeling like she’d wake up at any moment and it would’ve all been a dream. The longer she stayed in that embrace, in the peace and quiet of the cabin, the only sounds coming from the fireplace, she knew it was all real. It was finally real.

“We have until this storm is over to make up for lost time,” he said, peering into her eyes.

“Hey, better not just be during the storm,” she warned, lifting an eyebrow.

He chuckled, shaking his head as his lips hovered over hers. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I ain’t lettin’ you go any time soon.”

“Sounds good to me, Winchester.”

They spent the rest of the night curled up together in front of the fire, before moving things into the bedroom, finding a better way to keep warm during the snowstorm.

#anyfandomfluffbingo #jacklesversebingo23 #Dean x Female!Reader #Dean x Female!Reader One Shot #Dean x Female!Reader Fanfiction #Dean Winchester Fluff #Dean Winchester One Shot #Dean Winchester Fanfiction #Supernatural Fanfiction

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oatbrew · 7 months

Text

ok ok ok i just got home and as always here are my thoughts

really enjoyed colin lemoine's take. in terms of just pure vibes hes a step closer to damon daunno than reeve carney. he's not as boyish comic relief as nicholas barasch and he feels like the most.... grounded?? orpheus i've seen. he acts out the "touched" aspect without flanderizing orpheus into just his naivete and rendering him foolish and infantilized. the best way i can describe it is that he just seems like an optimistic but ultimately ordinary guy you could meet at a grocery store line who also happens to be plagued w Unfortunately Blessed with Musical Visions by the Gods Against His Will Syndrome

amaya braganza!!!!! jesus what a vocal powerhouse. her flowers killed me. something about her vocal inflection or acting choices really made her grief over losing her life and her love so visceral. she would be right at home at the obc recording because her voice was pitch perfect. she has a terrific belt but it's during the quiet moments where she's the most effective. like at the end of all i've ever known you can really feel she's already mourning her loss before she's even lost anything which is why flowers was more heartbreaking than normal

will mann is the most intriguing part of this cast to me. hermes actors have the choice of landing on the spectrum of objective narrator to a guardian figure. will feels like the most paternal. you get the sense that not only did he observe orpheus grow up he also had an active hand in raising him. when orpheus nervously stops during epic iii will says "go on, baby" with "baby" obviously ad-libbed 😭 like yes that is his baby

my only real critique of this performance is that the show doesn't actually pick up until way down hadestown. not sure if the cast just wasn't feeling the crowd or themselves until that point (it was a sunday night so i get it). i just make note of this bc livin it up on top is this high energy number that felt strangely middle energy for some reason lol anyone who was experiencing the show for the first time and had no frame of reference wouldn't notice anything amiss but bc im abnormal and pedantic i definitely noticed

and this is by no means a critique of lana gordon's persephone whose lady of the underground is one of the top highlights of the show. she brought the roof down during "there's a crack in the wall".

which brings me to my favorite part of the show: matthew patrick quinn. i didn't think anyone could replace patrick page in my heart but i was just in love with everything matthew brought to this character. he manages to combine facets of patrick and kevyn morrow's hades that i love together. matthew has kevyn's slick charisma and anger but he has patrick's power and world-weariness. he's this incredibly tall, serpentine, and long limbed figure that towers over everyone. patrick as an intimidating and antagonistic force felt like an ancient old god who can break your house by inducing an earthquake but matthew's vibe is more like he could literally be the snake that could tempt you out of a garden of eternal paradise

he and lana are also 🔥🔥🔥 like you can simultaneously feel the millenia of history between them but they also have the chemistry of two hot people going on a date for the first time after a long period of slowburn. the resentment, the familiarity, he way he's obviously repressing his desperation to keep her and both trying to look unaffected and turning to their vices when they reject each other's touch i could absolutely scream

which is why i was sobbing by the end of epic iii. i think the catharsis was just a lot lol and they were so playful during their dance too! like actual lovers who have the most absolute fun during good times. matthew does this little wiggle for her when they're sidestepping and im 100% sure lana broke character and they both started laughing it was so sweet

anyway the fates, the ensemble, everyone was astounding and im gonna see if i can grab another cheap balcony seat before they leave in a week to see if i can catch j antonio rodriguez as orpheus

#as always if anyone wants an audio boot i got you #notes.#hadestown

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j0kers-light · 6 months

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You know what🧐 I wouldn’t mind a “A Day in the Life of Frost/POV I ain’t gonna lie he has been growing on me😭 he really be there for reader and joker like he’s giving mad father figure vibes😭 plus I want to see him and his daughter’s interaction some more

His Lighthouse: A Frosty Outlook (LedgerJoker x f!reader)

A Frosty Outlook- Oneshot

In this house we stan Frost. I was inspired to write this by this post lol. I hope you enjoy!

Side note: I suck at writing first person so its not a true POV but its still good. I had too much fun with this one but when don't I have fun?

There is a slight irregularity with this fic being canon with His Lighthouse. In the series chapter Fear Is the Only Way, Joker told Frost “I didn’t know you had a family...” to which Frost fired back saying “I didn’t know you had a girl.”

This is pure sarcasm, people. Joker knows that Frost has a daughter and Frost obviously knows that Joker has a (future) girlfriend. But denial is a river in Egypt. Once again, I hope you enjoy I made myself cross eyed trying to edit this in the dark lol.

taglist:

@blackreaderatrisk @twinkledinkle @clemdango04 @l3ejm @tears-of-amber @what-an-angel @darthjokerisyourfather @thatsnoteii @dollster @cheetahspy @kaidennnnn @urdariingdoll @motivation-idontknowher @ins0mniac-whack @spaghettificationandpretzels @reneisance @alittlesmartcookie @ninacutebee16 @carydorse

Let me know if you wish to be added to the official His Lighthouse taglist!

There was no such thing as a day off when you work for a literal madman.

Frost knew that better than anyone as the right hand man to The Joker. Work never stopped. There was always someone to kill, money to collect, a city to burn, on top of personal errands and/or favors to run on Joker's behalf. There was always something to do.

There was hardly any time for a personal life which was why majority of the people under Joker's employ did not have families or loved ones. It interfered with work, made a person distracted, and Joker did not like distractions. However, Frost was an exception.

Frost and Joker went wayyy back and he was the closest thing to a friend that J had. Frost was the first henchman that Joker hired and a decade later, he was still the man to call on in any situation.

Trust and unwavering loyalty were forged from their mysterious bond and so rules that would normally apply to Joker's employees became more lax when it pertained to Frost.

He received a higher pay, had actual benefits and health care, and most importantly.. Frost was allowed days off. Not in the traditional sense– he never turned off his phone, but he was given time away from the gang to spend time with his family.

Joker would always be a priority in Frost's life but his little girl came first.

In the beginning she was a mistake. Frost was prepared to walk out on his lover at the time until she slapped a sonogram on the table.

The second Frost's eyes laid on his baby girl; he was a changed man. He thought about quitting Joker's gang but no one ever quits and remains alive, so he confronted Joker about his current dilemma.

"Who's baby? Eck, get rid of it." Joker cringed and kept walking into his office but stopped when Frost spoke up.

"She's mine, Joker. She's... I never asked you for anything so hear me out. I ain't giving her up and I'm not leaving your employ so.." The office was quiet as Frost's words tapered off.

Joker nodded and sat down at his desk. He knew Frost long enough to know the man's mind was made up. No ounce of torture was going to sway him and bribery didn't work on the guy.

Joker decided to compromise to keep his best employee.

"Fine. Keep it, buttttttttt on one con-dit-ion." J picked up the sonogram and tried his hardest to identify it as a human being. To him it looked like a grey blob but this blob meant so much to his fellow comrade.

"I get to name her." Joker said.

Frost quickly protested but after one look into Joker's demented eyes, he knew he had no say in the matter.

"It'll be my uhh, bargaining chip just in case ya ever try to walk away. Don't you think that's fair Frost-y? I name the kid and she and her.... uh mother don't wind up in a ditch. Deeeeal?"

Frost was making a deal with the devil but he couldn't lose his unborn girl. He'd explain this to his baby mama later, right now he leaned forward and shook hands with his boss.

He just hoped Joker didn't pick some outlandish name.

"Don't forget your lunch, Gen."

Frost held up the overly decorated lunch bag outside the car window for his daughter to grab. She smiled in thanks and leaned forward to peck Frost on the forehead.

"Thanks Dad!"

He watched her disappear into the school with a rare smile on his lips. It quickly faded away when his phone rang. He had the ringtone memorized and answered it with a heavy sigh.

"Come. Get. Her before I.. I... shuT UP, Y/n!"

Frost heard you in the background shouting at his boss but he couldn't pick up anything you were saying. Regardless, you sounded upset.

The two of you were having another lover's spat and if Frost didn't come and break it up, Joker might do something he'd regret for the rest of his life.

Frost cranked up his truck and held the phone to his ear, "Don't commit any acts of murder, I'm on the way."

Times like this Frost truly believed he had three children instead of one. And just like that his rare day off was gone.

He arrived in the private apartment garage exactly twenty four minutes after he received Joker's call. Frost wasn't allowed up to your floor– no one was anymore– but this was an emergency. Frost would deal with getting yelled at later if it resulted in saving your life.

Hopefully you were still alive to save. Joker might be in denial but he loved you unconditionally. If he hurt you during one of his mood swings— Frost shuddered at the thought.

Frost nodded at his fellow henchman in passing as he called for the elevator to come pick him up. Joker took your safety very seriously and assigned a few of his most loyal men to work at your residence undercover as a first line of defense.

It would take a calculated and deliberate attack for someone to reach your private floor without Joker knowing about it.

Frost was walking off the elevator on your designated floor when the front door flew open.

You emerged dressed to the nines with a purse flung over your shoulder. Joker was hot on your heels until you spun around and told him off.

"Screw you and the plane you flew in on! Call me after you get some act right and not a minute before!!"

Frost interpreted his boss's glare as you boarded the elevator. Joker might be upset with you right now but the warning was clear.

Guard her with your life or I'll kill you.

Frost didn't need to be told to do his job. You gave Joker a purpose in life other than destroying the world. Frost respected you greatly and held you in high regard for that.

Frost would protect Joker's Light to his dying breath. You didn't need to know that though. Frost did have a reputation to uphold.

There was an awkward silence as the elevator door slowly enclosed you inside the lift with Frost. He covertly glanced down at you and met a head full of curls.

Today your voluminous hair was untamed and wild about your shoulders. The only thing styled was your baby hairs swept back in a carefree, but deliberate fashion with gel. A fitting style for your fiery mood. Your overall sense of fashion always fascinated him.

"Wanna talk about it?" Frost asked somewhere around the tenth and ninth floor down.

You sighed while shaking your head. "I'm sorry that he called you. I know today's your day off." You laughed at Frost's curious frown.

"I figured since it's his day off as well. You know I tried to get him to go out and do something legal with me but he just snapped saying, 'he's not normal so why bother? He doesn't do normal. I guess he's having one of those days today."

Both of you knew Joker's mood was unpredictable and his bad days were atrocious to deal with. Half the time you left the clown to his own devices until he was calm enough to tolerate, but today just your presence in the apartment set him off.

Joker needed alone time and you were okay with that. However you wouldn't let him talk to you any kind of way.

The floor numbers ticked lower and lower as you and Frost stood in silence. You glanced up at him lost in thought.

On the outside he was a terrifying guy. Tall, bulky frame with a permanent scowl on his face. His dark eyes and the deep scar that split his eyebrow made him appear unapproachable but you knew Frost had a heart of gold. He cared about Joker and subsequently you when he didn't have to. Frost lived up to his nickname but there was more to the guy. The writer in you could tell.

"Enough about him. I don't wanna ruin the day. Hey? What do you normally get into on your day's off?" You playfully nudged Frost's arm. The man didn't move an inch.

He was quick to reply. "Nothing."

The doors dinged open and he didn't wait up for you, he just started walking towards his truck. You were left behind to marvel at the giant vehicle that Frost expected you to climb into.

You were a short thing; even wearing heels, how did he expect you to...?

"Grab onto the sidebars and hop in. Geez.. if my daughter can do it, you can too." Frost grumbled from the driver's side.

You did as you were told with great difficulty and managed to buckle into your seatbelt. Then you ran back what Frost said.

"Daughter? Oh yeah! I remember you saying I'm stubborn just like her long ago. How is she?"

It was quiet in the cabin. You looked over at Frost finding that he was already staring at you. "What?"

His frown was deeper than normal. "Why are you asking?"

Granted no one in the gang knew about his daughter except you and Joker, it was still a shock to hear someone genuinely ask about her well-being. Frost made triple sure that no one knew about his little family of one.

But you were different. An aura surrounded you— heck it was the reason why Joker named you his Light– that just oozed out of you. You truly cared about people and you weren't going to let this go.

You rolled your eyes as Frost cranked up his truck. "Uh because I want to know how she's doing? That's why I asked. You never did mention how old she is."

Frost gave you a side eye as he drove out of the garage and onto Gotham City streets. He honestly had no idea where to take you. Joker didn't say where to go, just to come get you.

Frost waited until he was at a red light to answer your question as vaguely as possible. "I know I didn't."

You hummed and glanced out the window. It didn't take a scientist to understand that Frost's daughter was not a topic he wished to discuss but you weren't about to spend the rest of the day in absolute silence with him.

Frost was a difficult man to read. He was a man of few words and lived up to his descriptive name. You'd rather take a chance of Joker strangling you to death back at the penthouse than be stuck with his six foot something iceberg all day.

"Can I at least go shopping?" You ignored the low irritated sigh you heard from the driver. "If I had a female companion we could shop together and not bother my annoyed bodyguard on his day off."

The light turned green and you felt the truck shift gears as it moved. "No."

"Oh come on! She's fully aware of what you do so it's perfectly fine if she and I meet! Is she young? Still in school? Ooh, maybe in college? What's her major? You can at least tell me her name. C'mon Frost, give me something to work with!"

You faced him with a pout but then realized he wasn't Joker and that wouldn't work. You had no leverage with Frost. He was just as mysterious as J like two peas in a pod.

So you applied the same logic! Joker hated when you became quiet and closed yourself off.

You crossed your arms and continued looking out the passenger window in silence. It took a couple of city blocks but before long, you could see Frost glancing your way every odd minute or so.

"What're you over there thinking? Hey."

You turned your head so he couldn't see your grin. He couldn't see anything with your natural curls in the way.

Frost growled to himself as he kept driving. It had been no more than fifteen minutes since he picked you up and he was already at his wits end. No wonder Joker couldn't say no to you. You had to possess some kind of powers of coercion. There was no other explanation as to why Frost wanted to keep you happy.

"D__n you woman.." Frost said under his breath. He hoped he wouldn't regret this.

The truck veered roughly to the side as he made an illegal u-turn. Your body collided roughly into the door and you were about to give Frost a mouthful if not for his grumpy frown and death grip on the steering wheel.

You did not want two men angry at you on the same day so you sat back and let Frost drive you to who knows where.

He pulled the truck into a parking spot at a public school forty five minutes later.

You glanced around and arched an eyebrow in intrigue. He turned the truck off and made a show of pocketing the keys. Like you could drive this beast of a truck if you wanted to. You had on vintage platform heels. There was no way you were scuffing them up.

Frost faced you to sound off his rules. "Stay here. Don't get out. Don't talk to anyone. I'll be back." He ordered.

He didn't wait for your response, he just got out and stormed across the school lawn towards the entrance. And just because he was cruel, he mashed the lock button on his key fob, locking you inside.

First period wasn't over when Frost walked through the school's main entrance. Not many students were in the halls— most likely in class, but a few facility members stared at him in passing. It was hard not to.

Frost was used to the stares. He didn't necessarily blend in with the whole school aesthetic. He wasn't a PTA member or a doting father dropping off forgotten lunches.

He was a tall, burly man who screamed of trouble. It would be common sense to be wary or to call the police. His stony aura created a bubble around him and everyone kept a wide berth as he navigated the halls towards the admin office.

There was a woman seated at the front desk but shockingly she wasn't afraid when Frost walked up with a permanent frown carved on his face.

She just looked up and greeted him warmly. "Ah Mr. Myers! Did she forget her lunch this morning? I can take it to her after first period."

Ms. Tammy was always nice and never judged Frost by his appearance but rather by the way he cared for his daughter. Frost was a better father than the white collar dads on the school's chair board. He was alright in her book even if he didn't appear 'father material.'

"No. I want to pull Gen out for the day. Family emergency or whatever." Frost grumbled.

The school only allowed an allotted amount of excuses per school year, but his girl was an A+ student and never missed class. Today would actually be her first offense.

Ms. Tammy nodded and grabbed a form for him to fill out. "I understand. They deserve their days off too. Just sign that dear and I'll go fetch her for you."

Frost nodded and clicked a pen to use. Most of the fields didn't apply to him but it couldn't be left empty. He made up some passable excuse and half hardly signed his fake name on the dotted line. It only took him a minute to complete.

He was forever grateful that his daughter carried her mother's maiden name.

It was the only favor his ex managed to extend before she left without a trace. Legally, Gen wasn't tied to Frost and he preferred it that way should something bad ever happen and his enemies try and find a weakness of his.

In the meantime, he glanced around the admin office to pass the time.

The school wide bulletin board caught his eye. Nothing of importance was posted on the overly bright eyesore, but he did acknowledge the annual Father-Daughter dance that was scheduled in two month's time. He wondered if his daughter would like to attend before she got too old for the age requirement.

Probably not since she didn't want her friends knowing about her criminal dad.

Each year prior she made up an excuse to not go. Studying for a test, being too tired, etc. but Frost knew the truth. She'd be bullied and harassed if it came out he was her father.

Frost wished he could go to school events and be more proactive in her academics. He never missed recitals or science fairs but he was forced to watch from the shadows and not be seen as the supportive father he was.

It was the only drawback of his profession. Frost wasn't allowed to be normal, not even around his own child. Either way, he ripped a flyer off the board and shoved it into his pocket to bring up later.

He was brought out of his musing by Ms. Tammy returning into the office with a student in tow.

Frost's cold facade cracked at the sight of his daughter. She was the only thing in this life that could get a reaction out of him.

"Omg dad what's wrong? Ms.T said there was an emergency!"

Ms. Tammy giggled and returned to her post behind the desk. She noticed the dismissal form and tucked it into an organizer bin for later.

"Have a good day you two!" She waved them goodbye and resumed her work.

Frost said nothing as he nodded at his daughter to walk out the office. She rolled her eyes at her father's lack of response. It wasn't uncommon, he always explained things in private.

He made sure no one was watching as the both of them walked out the school and out to the parking lot. Gen was heading towards the front seat when Frost finally spoke up. "Get in the back." He urged.

"What, why? I always ride shotgun. Ooh! Does this mean I can drive today then?" She grinned in delight.

"No."

Gen pouted but hauled herself up to open the backdoor. One of these days dad was gonna say yes.

She froze the moment she saw someone in the passenger seat and her gasp made you turn around in shock.

You were jamming out to music playing from your phone when they came back. Your coloured eyes clashed with her brown ones. Frost watched the staring contest unfold with a sigh. This was exactly what he wanted to avoid. You were the first to break the rift.

"SHE IS ABSOLUTELY BEAUTIFUL! ARE YOU SURE SHE'S YOURS?" You asked Frost.

He took offense to your question even if the resemblance was non-existent. It wasn't the first time someone questioned if his daughter was his and it wouldn't be the last.

"What the f__k is that supposed to mean?" He argued. You sucked your teeth and eyed the young girl again.

"Well..." You were going to state the obvious until the teenager in the backseat finally got over her shock and spoke up.

".... Dad. Who's this?"

Frost stared at the two females in his truck. It was best to get this over with. He sighed and turned to face the backseat a little better.

"Y/n, this is my daughter Genesis. Gen this is..." Frost stalled and the two of you looked at him, patiently waiting for an explanation.

You knew what Frost wanted to say and shot a nervous glance at his daughter. Genesis looked about seventeen yet wise beyond her years to know the truth. There was an uneasy gleam in her eye and you didn't want her thinking ill of you or her father. So you quickly came to Frost's defense.

He wasn't one to communicate delicate topics like this anyways.

"I'm his Boss's partner. It's nice to meet you!" You smiled at Gen and she breathed a sigh of relief.

"Oh bet. I thought you were f__king my dad. You are way too pretty for him." She turned to fasten her seatbelt and didn't notice her father's reaction. He was catching strays left and right today.

"Again. What the f__k is that supposed to mean?" He asked no one in particular.

"Nothing dad it's just.. I mean. Like you're an attractive guy..."

You noticed her struggling and added in your input. "8 of 10 would smash." You nodded. Frost looked at you in horror. Then you realized what you just confessed. "Oh God. Please don't tell him that."

"Do I look like I want to be murdered with a vegetable peeler?" The truck got awkward real quick as everyone imagined Joker killing someone with such a common kitchen tool. It was doable..

Genesis coughed. "Anyways.. I'm just glad there's nothing going on between the two of you but it doesn't explain why you pulled me from school today."

You raised your manicured hand. "Guilty! I wanted a shopping partner for the day!"

The truck was silent for a long stretch of time before Genesis turned to her dad with a serious expression. "Dad, is she like his bimbo or... what?"

Frost huffed and it was the closest thing to a laugh you ever heard from him. You were sitting next to a stranger right now. Frost never smiled. Ever. Much less laughed at something that was said.

You were seeing him with brand new eyes. It was refreshing to know his frosty exterior could melt to a normal human being underneath.

The comment was a bit funny since Frost thought the same thing about you the first time Joker invited him to your apartment.

Surrounded by luxury and on the top floor no less, Frost thought that you were just a run of the mill bimbo that Joker was taking advantage of. He'd seen you from your tv appearances. You were just a waft of a girl, always dressed up in pretty things– batting your long lashes and drawing silly hearts next to your signatures.

If Frost went by appearances only he would have labeled you a bimbo and kept it moving.

Frost was ready to kill you off the second Joker snapped his fingers but then you showed your true colors and captured everyone under your spell.

Whether he admitted it or not, Joker fell in love with you and Frost hadn't seen his old companion this happy in decades. You unlocked something good within Joker and as a result, you earned respect in Frost's book.

He'd do anything to keep you safe and happy so you could continue to shine a light on Joker.

You were a perfect match for the Clown Prince of Crime even if you acted like an airhead sometimes. It was a part of your character; however, you were educated behind your designer threads and jewels.

Frost had to give you some credit.

"No. Y/n is actually a Gotham City's best selling author. She wrote that novel you like. The one with the archer I think." He cranked up the truck.

They wasted too much time chatting. It was time to go. Gen's jaw dropped and she leaned over the console to stare at you more closely. How could she be so dense not to notice you?!

"Wait? You're that Y/n?! Omg, WHB was such a page tuner! And like Hunter is so hawt! Like, chase me in the woods anytime papi, hot! Ugh and that cabin scene when he—" She glanced at her father distracted by driving before stage-whispering to you.

"The smut was immaculate." She giggled into your ear.

You burst out laughing and had to cover your mouth when Frost sent you an annoyed glare.

He drowned out the sound of you two gossiping to focus on the road. He only interrupted the 'juicy' book discussion to ask what store you wanted to go to first.

He already knew your favorites from previous trips and from his time on security detail, yet you surprised him by picking one of Genesis' favorites.

Frost glanced through the rearview mirror at Gen. She was none the wiser given that she was too busy smiling and getting along with you. It was as if the two of you were lifelong friends catching up on old times.

Frost assumed you two would click since the age difference was less than ten years.

He just was happy that his girl had someone to talk to, at least for the day. Genesis didn't bring home any friends (for obvious reasons) nor did she talk about any. If she didn't excel in her academics, Frost would've been concerned. It was only natural for a father to be worried about their daughter's social growth. He didn't want his occupation to stunt Genesis' upbringing.

Frost was turning into a parking space in the mall's parking lot when he heard your probing question.

"Genesis, is there any special occasion coming up you wanna shop for?" Your kind smile was gentle and patient, knowing the teenager was hesitant to answer. You were her age before, you knew why.

"Well um..."

"Come on, 'Sis, don't be shy! It's just you and me and the grumpy chaperone pretending not to listen." You turned to glare at Frost. "Can you not?"

He narrowed his brown eyes and tried not to bare his teeth at you. He knew that tone. You wanted him out of the picture.

Like that was happening. He honestly didn't like having you out at such a public place. This was gonna make his job all the more harder trying to protect you and his little girl but it wouldn't be impossible.

He thought you would know the rules by now, "Boss's orders. You don't leave my sight."

"Frost, we will be fine. If I feel like I'm in danger, I'll scream. Go.. I dunno, check out some knives or whatever men do at malls." You snickered and Genesis joined in from the backseat.

She didn't understand why you needed security but that due to her being in the dark regarding Joker's gang. She knew her dad was a criminal, the worst of the worst, but he was still her father in her eyes. The level of danger you could be in went right over her head.

Knowing that her dad was technically on the clock right now was a hard concept to grasp. She glanced at him, noticing his guarded glare and sharp eyes already scanning the area as everyone got out the truck.

It was cool to see him in his element of sorts.

Although she felt wholly underdressed in her jeans, graphic tee, and chucks standing next to you.

You looked like a dark skinned doll wearing a light colored pleated skirt that fluttered in the wind. Your ensemble was preppy chic teetering on Lolita and it didn't help that your hair tumbled down your back just like a doll. She admired your soft aesthetic with your winged collar, lace bow ties, and pearl accessories.

Everything just worked perfectly to create an adorable outfit.

You adjusted your cardigan better and checked your lip gloss in the truck's back window. Your naïve humming floated in the air.

Both Frost and Gen looked on in a mixture of intrigue and exasperation.

"You look fine. Let's go." Frost grumbled.

He averted his eyes from your adorable pout. He was not Joker, he would not crack under your charm. Frost did crack a smile when you and Genesis walked into the mall linking arms like two high schoolers.

With your dumb outfit and short stature, at least you looked the part.

He didn't let the two of you out of his sight but he took your disapproving glare as a sign to back off some. People were beginning to stare at the scary looking guy following two girls around.

Frost became a shadow as you and Genesis filtered around the mall, ooh and ahhing at every little thing that caught your eye. He lost count how much of Joker's money you blew through. Quite frankly Frost didn't care. His job was to hold the bags that the two of you couldn't carry and keep you safe.

Frost wasn't too upset about his current degrading role.

Genesis' happiness was his only concern and today he got to see a rare smile brighten her face. She was laughing and having fun like someone her age should. She needed female bonding time and you were definitely making up for years of neglect.

He lost sight of the two of you during his musing and quickly went into a calm but panic induced mode.

You watched Frost rush the opposite way of where you and Genesis were currently hiding.

"Um. I don't think this is a good idea.. Dad said to stay in his line of sight." Genesis' brown eyes shifted down to the potted plant she hid behind. You waited until Frost was long gone before standing up and brushing off your pleated skirt.

"It'll be fine 'Sis! I remember when I was your age. Sneaking off at the mall to shop at specific stores was virtually impossible with my parents around. Now! Are you going to that Father-Daughter dance your school is having?"

Gen quickly grew defensive, "How did you know about that?" She hadn't mentioned it in conversation but you waved off her concern.

"Your dad sucks at hiding things. I saw the flyer when he got in the truck. It's formal attire so you need a jaw dropping dress that he totally won't approve of but will make all the girls in your class jealous! I know just the store too."

Your e/c gleamed under the mall's bright lights. It had been a while since you got to dress someone up. Gen's hesitant hum though made you pause.

"Well actually I don't wanna make her jealous. M-More like I wanna impress her, like really impress her.." Genesis winced at your stupefied look. She honestly didn't expect you to understand.

It took you a few seconds to process her statement.

"Oh." You said. "Okay, that changes things. You need something eye catching, I gotcha! Same store so let's–"

You were about to walk off when Genesis grabbed your arm, stopping you in your tracks. She was still rather bashful yet somewhat hopeful when she met your eye.

"Woah wait a min, Y/n! Don't think that's like... weird? I just said I wanted to impress a girl? Not a guy." Her hand fell from your arm as she picked at her nails. It was a nervous habit she was trying to grow out of.

One you filed away for later. Your heels clicked sharply on the mall's linoleum floor and your mess of curls fell off your shoulder when you tilted your head in confusion.

"And? Genesis. I'm dating a psychopath who frequently dresses up in a nurse outfit, wig and all. I'm in no position to judge your preference for a partner." You laughed but quickly frowned when Gen groaned in frustration.

"No no no! That's the thing!! I read your trilogy and I'm attracted to Hunter. Strong, dominant, alpha guys are hot but I also like how Jordan makes me feel. She's... ugh. You remind me a lot of her. Bubbly, confident, always wearing pretty outfits like she's going to GC fashion week and not English 1 at eight o'clock in the morning. She's so pretty and I probably don't stand a chance but I wanna try!"

You eyed Genesis differently as she stood before you coming out yet still unsure of herself. Your lips parted to speak but she cut you off, going on another nervous rant.

"I'm just so afraid and not about asking her out but of what my dad will say! Like, I'm his perfect girl! I get perfect grades, I don't get into trouble, and I'm home before the street lights come on! I already have pending scholarships! Y/n, what if he doesn't approve?" Gen switched to picking at her lips.

Your heart went out to her but you still didn't see the problem. You playful scoffed and replied.

"Again, Genesis. Your dad works for that same psychopath who dresses up as a nurse. Frost has seen plenty of things in his line of business. I don't think he'll judge you. And guess what? It's your choice so if he shockingly disapproves, then tell him to shove it and move in with me. Now.. I think... blue is your color. I feel a rich indigo would bring out your melanin and I'm here for it. That is, if you want to wear a dress? I honestly don't wanna assume again."

You sent Genesis a sympathetic smile but jumped when she tackled you in a hug.

You almost lost your balance since the girl was taller than you even in heels. Just what were they feeding kids these days..

She sang out a string of thank yous and rocked you in her arms. You patted her on the back and wheezed out a 'can't breathe.'

"Sorry." Gen let you go. She watched your lashes flutter as you caught your breath. "Yeah, umm. I haven't worn a dress in ages. C-Can you help me find one?"

She regretted asking the moment she saw your eyes light up like fireworks. Shopping with you was both fun and exhausting.

The scolding the both of you received once Frost found you exiting a high end lingerie store was epic. Frost literally had steam coming out his ear, he was so furious.

"I thought since you're an adult you would have some common sense Y/n! I told you not to leave my sight and the two of you wandered off for two hours! F__k you're a terrible influence. If something had happened, not only would he kill me, he'd kill Gen for being involved. Is that what you want? Murder all around?"

Genesis felt awful but wisely hid her racy purchases behind her back until her dad was in a better mood.

She hated when he was angry but she had no dog in this fight. She told you it was a bad idea to shake off dad's surveillance.

You on the other hand were used to being yelled at. Joker gave you plenty of practice.

You simply rolled your eyes. "Frost stop overreacting. Nothing happened so don't dwell on the past. We got far more shopping done with you not slowing us down. Anyhoo we're done here and.." You glanced down at your phone vibrating in your purse.

It was a string of text messages from J beginning with an apology along with questionable promises on how he could make up for his mistakes.

You did not want him killing a prominent political member in your name. You did consider his offer on buying you a pig. They were cute!

"I'm needed back home. Can you drop me off?" You asked Frost. His right eye was twitching.

You gave him headaches. He strangled the air in front of you, "I don't get paid enough for this." He growled.

You waved goodbye to Genesis as you walked into your apartment building an hour later. Two workers followed behind you carrying your many shopping bags.

Gen crawled into the front seat as Frost shifted gears to leave. It was a long day and he just wanted to go home and relax after babysitting you.

"H-Hey dad. Can I ask you something?" Gen asked. His soft hum was the only acknowledgment she would receive.

"Do you know that Father-Daughter dance at school– the one we never go to each year? Well, I've been thinking.. I kinda wanna go this year."

She snuck a glance over the console but Frost was still focused on traffic. He didn't show any signs of listening but still, she continued.

"I know its kinda last minute being its like in two months away and your... boss? Master? He who shall not be named? Whatever you call him, he doesn't like last minute requests but I wanna go. Can we?"

Frost sighed as the truck idled at a red light.

It was then he glanced over at his little girl. He was so lucky to have her. Genesis didn't look anything like him and he was forever grateful. He didn't want to curse her with his shortcomings because her beauty was so refined.

Genesis was all aristocratic lines and sharp features, perfectly balanced by her mother's warm complexion and hooded eyes. Gen had the face of ancient statues with deep rooted secrets evident in her full upturned lips and mirth forever shining in her dark brown eyes.

Frost often thought back to the day Joker named his daughter. The psychotic clown snuck into the labor and delivery floor to claim his end of the deal.

Frost stalled as long as he could when the nurses asked what to name his child and they found it odd that the mother didn't offer any input. The birth certificate was left blank until the middle of the night for J to come fill.

His green eyes were unreadable as he glared at the bouncy baby girl wide awake, waiting for him.

Frost was beyond terrified when Joker picked up his unnamed girl but shockingly the clown held her right and entered a staring contest with the infant.

Not once did she cry and much to Frost's horror, she smirked at Joker as if she knew something he didn't.

"Genesis." J mumbled.

"What?" Frost probably heard that wrong. Was that the name Joker had picked?!

Frost was expecting something stupid like initials that spelled out TNT or a play on words like, Dianamite. Joker was full of surprises after all. One couldn't be too sure.

Joker purred as he tickled Gen's cheek with his makeup stained hands. She cooed back and tried wiggling out her swaddle wrap to interact with this strange looking man.

"She's the ahh, beginning, to something greaT, Frosty. It's up ta her to figure out what."

And so Genesis was named.

Times like this Frost could see why Joker picked it. She was confident in her decision as if she already foreseen the outcome. Once she arrived at the dance with her father, it would open up a can of worms and questions, but she was ready to tackle them head on.

He couldn't be more proud.

Frost nodded sagely. "Hm, Good thing I bought a tux already. Y/n said to make sure it coordinated with something blue."

Genesis blinked before bursting out laughing. Of course you planned this.

She wouldn't expect anything else from a remarkable woman like you. You unknowingly brought her closer to her father in just one day. And tomorrow Gen would have the strength to come out to him.

"Yeah. Blue is perfect, dad."

#thanks anon!#thanks for the ask!#ledger joker x reader #joker x y/n #black!fem!reader #ledger joker #dark knight joker #joker x reader #reader insert #heath joker #i love frost too much #cross posted on wattpad #father daughter bonding #cross posted on ao3 #his lighthouse

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happybird16 · 10 months

Text

•Chapter Eleven•

Naga!Levi Ackerman/Fem!Reader

Summary: Growing up, the forest's edge always darkened the far corner of your small village. The giant, twisted branches overhead rendered the forest floor a terrifying, pitch black. You shouldn't be here. There's creatures here, dangerous ones.

Overall warnings: Past references to child abuse, blood, scars, gore, mystery, eventual sex, inhuman genitalia (Levi is a snake man), horror vibes.

Chapter warnings: Nothing much! References to last intimacies, but that's about it!

Chapter length: 14k

Ao3 Link

The most special of shoutouts to my beloved friend and beta @theferricfox!!!! Also, credit to @the-milk-anon for the snake banner!!

Note: So the last chapter was supposed to be that last spicy scene, but I had a dream so there's another one in the next chapter! Also, as this is posting, I will be eating breakfast with my dad, so it'd be very funny if you guys deluge me with your thoughts and make me seem important lol.

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Outside, the rain falls steadily, its sound creating a soothing, constant rhythm. The arrival of spring brings with it inevitable rain showers, as nature awakens and rejuvenates. The drops tap against the stone of the mountainside, echoing with a resounding intensity. The world becomes enveloped in a misty haze, as if the raindrops create a veil that obscures the surroundings.

It's the gentle patter of rain that eventually rouses you from your deep, exhausted slumber. The rhythmic beat of the raindrops guides you back to consciousness in a serene and gradual manner. As you awaken, warmth seeps through your senses, accompanied by the weight of Levi's arm draped over your hip, creating a comforting presence.

"Hey," Levi's voice, still rough from sleep, softly calls your name. His chest rises and falls against yours, the steady rhythm matching the peaceful atmosphere. His eyes, a soft morning grey, meet yours, filling your vision with a gentle warmth and connection. The rain serves as a backdrop to this quiet moment, adding to the tranquil ambiance that surrounds the two of you.

"Morning," you murmur, nuzzling into the comforting warmth of Levi's neck. "You've been watching me? How long have you been up?”

Levi lets out a soft hum in response, trailing a gentle nail along your hipbone. "Not for too long," he admits. "How are you feeling?"

"Sore," you reply honestly, a tinge of weariness evident in your voice. The beast had been considerate enough to change positions during each of your intimate encounters, but the exertion has left your knees and thighs tender and sensitive to even the slightest movement. Shifting your legs beneath the heavy blanket of his tail, you let out a soft hiss as the muscles in your upper thigh twinge in protest.

"I'm sorry," Levi apologizes softly. His hand shifts, working gentle circles into the meat of your thigh.

"It's fine," you reply evenly, shuffling a bit closer to him with a pained hiss. "Actually, I kind of like it. It's a good ache, although I wish I could move my legs properly."

Raising your head, you assess the aftermath of the last two days. Surprisingly, there are no visible bruises despite the intensity of your encounters. You had expected your knees to be blotchy and discolored at least, given how long you'd spent on them. "I thought I would be bruised," you comment, a hint of surprise in your voice. "But I guess not."

Levi points out with a short laugh, "Remember, my saliva is healing." One hand trails slowly along the small of your back, and to your surprise, you don't even feel the slightest wounds from his sharp claws. The other pinches your chin between his finger and thumb, his thumb softly grazing the plump skin of your bottom lip. His eyes sparkle in the low light. "I think enough of it got into your system for the magic to handle any of those."

That makes sense. Playfully, you ask, "If I kiss you enough, will it make me immortal?"

"No," he scoffs softly, "but you'll certainly live as long as I do."

You run your thumb over the mating mark, yearning to see its black imprints. However, all that remains are small, shallow indentations instead of the deep grooves his teeth once left on your skin. "By the way, what does it actually do? Other than bond us forever, I mean."

Levi's expression turns thoughtful as he attempts to explain. "While I can't be entirely certain if the magic will affect you in the same way, the mark should enable you to sense when I need you. As my heats approach, you'll experience a burning sensation, basically screaming that I need you."

Recalling the pleasant tingling burn of the mark, you hum with curiosity. "I've felt a bit of that the past two days. So, will I be able to sense if you're in danger?"

"More or less," he responds with a shrug. "It's a bit more deliberate than that, as if I'm sending you an emotion or the essence of a thought."

Suddenly, the mark tingles, akin to a gentle brush of a soft feather against your skin. The back of your head prickles, and a deep longing pull resonates within your mind, eliciting a tender response.

"Do you feel that?" he asks, playfully nudging your nose with his.

You nod, your eyes widening slightly as the tingling sensation of the mark washes over you. "Yes, I feel it," you reply, your voice filled with a blend of curiosity and awe. The gentle touch and the longing sensation within your mind convey that something is unfolding, that Levi is extending his connection to you through the bond of the mating mark.

"What are you saying?" you inquire, eager to understand the significance of the odd fluttering along the back of your consciousness. It feels as though his consciousness is leaning forward to bump into yours, as sensation he mirrors with a soft bump of his forehead into yours. You can't respond in kind, but you get a vague sense of what he wants.

"Close your eyes," he urges you, his breath shuddering. Following his guidance, your eyes flutter closed. In the darkness behind your eyelids, you concentrate as his consciousness surges, delicately brushing against yours. "Focus on the sensation."

With another gentle bump of his forehead against yours, you vaguely sense the presence of soft lips through the intimate connection you share. A smile tugs at the corners of your mouth, and without hesitation, you lean in to fulfill his request. Your lips meet his in a tender and affectionate kiss.

As the kiss deepens, you can feel the warmth of his breath mingling with yours, the sensation of his presence growing stronger within you. Levi hums against your lips in open satisfaction, fingers pressing firmly into the skin of your back.

When the kiss finally breaks, you gaze into his eyes, a spark of love and gratitude evident in your expression. Behind you, his tail flops happily onto the bedding.

Chuckling softly, you playfully bump your nose into his. "Make sure to give me a heads-up if you ever plan on taking another nap in the snow," you jest. His eyes soften, gazing into yours with a sparkle of delight. Drumming your fingers softly along the curve of his waist, you ask, "And what about you? How are you feeling?"

"I'm sore too," he grumbles, wincing as he rubs his fingers along his abs. "This heat was shorter than I expected."

"Well, you did mention that the bond would provide some relief," you reply. "I can't imagine enduring a longer one than that..."

"I did my best to clean you up," he starts, sounding somewhat embarrassed. "But I only keep a few rags around for the mess from my heat. This was... more intense than usual."

Sighing, you huff in frustration. "I'm not sure I can climb up the mountain like this," you admit, feeling a painful twinge in your leg as you draw it up, resting your knee against the bend of his tail just below his hips.

“I could carry you again,” he offers, a concerned look glimmering in his eyes.

You shake your head, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “No,” you protest, teasingly. “I kind of like the idea of walking there on my own two feet. It gives me a sense of independence, you know?”

Levi chuckles, his warm laughter filling the air, creating a delightful melody that resonates within you. Despite feeling exhausted and sore, the sound of his laughter brings a surge of joy, making your stomach flutter with excitement.

“Fair enough,” he concedes, his gaze filled with admiration and a touch of pride.

Outside, the rain intensifies, its steady rhythm filling your ears with a comforting sound. Through the entrance, the downpour becomes a torrential deluge, obscuring visibility with a cascade of rapidly falling raindrops. The world beyond is transformed into a hazy blur of water, as if the entrance has been blocked by a thick wall of white. The distant rumble of thunder adds to the immersive experience, infusing the storm with a sense of power and grandeur.

As the warm rain continues to cascade, it creates a soothing ambiance, infusing the air with a gentle touch of moisture. The rush of cool wind that accompanies the rainfall brings a refreshing relief, offering a pleasant contrast to the warmth. Even without a roaring fire at the entrance, the nest emanates a comforting warmth, enveloping you both in a cozy haven within the cavern. The combination of the warm rain and the embracing atmosphere of the nest creates a balmy and tranquil setting, inviting relaxation and serenity. Against your will, the soothing warmth and sounds have your eyes falling heavy lidded once again.

"Let's take our time, then," Levi offers softly, his voice carrying a sense of ease. "We can wait out the storm here."

"Sounds like a good idea," you agree wholeheartedly. "I don't really feel inclined to venture out in that heavy downpour anyway." You both settle in, finding comfort in each other's presence as you wait for the storm to pass. The rain becomes a soothing backdrop, lulling you into a state of peaceful respite. Within the safety and warmth of the nest, time seems to slow down, allowing you to fully immerse yourselves in the tranquility of the moment.

"This'll probably be the last time we get to just be together like this for a while, huh?" you ask softly, a touch of melancholy in your voice.

"We'll make time, but yeah, things will be busier once we get back," Levi agrees with a soft hum, his understanding evident. “I’ll probably be gone most days, hunting for WildOnes while they sleep. Sometimes I'll have to spend the night out.”

The thought of being separated makes you feel a twinge of sadness, even as you're filled with anticipation for the new beginning that awaits you both.

As the rain continues to pour outside, its rhythmic sound creating a comforting backdrop, you and Levi find solace in each other's presence. Engaged in soft and intimate conversation, you savor these precious moments, cherishing the connection you share. The world outside may be tumultuous, but in each other's company, you find a sense of peace and warmth that is unparalleled.

Levi's intensity remains, the same unusual fervor he displayed before his heat began, a persistent desire to hold you close. His aura exudes a mix of pent-up energy and restlessness, as if he is eager for something more. While the rainstorm continues to confine you within the nest's boundaries, a subtle shift in Levi's demeanor becomes apparent as the day progresses. The restlessness gradually gives way to a growing anticipation, a sense that something significant is about to unfold.

Finally, the next morning arrives, and the rainstorm shows signs of relenting. Levi's energy reaches its peak, his excitement palpable. With a renewed sense of purpose, he moves toward the entrance of the nest, his hands skillfully removing the woven branches that had shielded you both from the outside world.

As the branches part, the sounds of rain diminish, and a soft breeze whispers through the air. The world outside comes into view, glistening with fresh droplets of water, as if cleansed by the storm. The vibrant greens of the surrounding foliage seem more vibrant, alive with renewed energy.

Levi's gaze meets yours, and a knowing smile plays at the corners of his lips. “Is it time to go?” you ask, squinting at the bright morning light streaming through the entrance.

Levi nods, his gaze scanning the surroundings. “We shouldn’t delay any longer. The WildOnes are beginning to awaken,” he responds with a sense of urgency. He then turns his attention to you, concern etched on his face. “How are you feeling?”

You take a moment to assess your body, feeling the residual tension in your muscles. “I’m fine,” you reply, mustering a confident smile. “My legs are still a bit tense, especially my inner thighs, but it’s manageable. I’m good to go.”

Levi’s concern eases slightly at your reassurance. He reaches out, gently squeezing your hand in support. “Just let me know if you need a break or if anything becomes too uncomfortable,” he says, his voice filled with genuine care.

Now that fresh air is flowing into the cave, you become aware of the musty odor that has permeated the space. Rising to your feet and joining Levi by the entrance, you also notice the stickiness on your skin, likely a leftover from Levi’s heat along with the heat and humidity within the nest.

“Can we make a quick stop at the river to wash up on our way?” you suggest, hoping to freshen up before meeting a bunch of new people.

Levi nods in agreement. “That’s a good idea,” he remarks. “I would like to wash up myself. I would love to clean all the bedding before we go, but it's probably better to leave it. The scent will help keep away any pests while we're gone.”

Levi glances back at you, his eyes scanning the area as he assesses the situation. “Do you have everything you need already in your bag?” he asks, his voice filled with concern.

You nod in response. “Yeah, I didn’t bring much with me to begin with,” you reply. “But I still have some extra space if you need me to help carry anything.”

Levi’s gaze softens, appreciating your offer of assistance. “Thank you,” he says, a hint of gratitude in his voice. “Would you mind carrying the books back then?”

“Sure,” you reply, pulling your bag over as you crouch by his side.

As Levi uncovers his collection of odds and ends, a glimmer of excitement fills the air. On top are the handful of books that have been pretty much untouched, which he immediately hands to you. You quickly tuck the tombs into the cloth bag.

As Levi reaches into the depths of his cubby, his fingers delicately retrieving the jewelry, you’re captivated by the sight before you. The array of rings, bracelets, and necklaces glisten with intricate designs and shimmering gemstones. The combination of silver and gold creates a striking contrast, each piece exuding its own unique charm.

The vibrant colors of the gemstones catch the light, casting a mesmerizing glow in the nest. It’s as if each piece of jewelry has its own tale to tell, a story of elegance and beauty waiting to be adorned and cherished. The craftsmanship and attention to detail are evident in every delicate curve and sparkling gem.

You watch as Levi holds the thick silver necklace in his hand, admiring the intricate metalwork that resembles interwoven scales. It’s a stunning piece, and you can’t help but be intrigued by its craftsmanship.

“I’m guessing it’s finally warm enough to wear jewelry?” you ask, your eyes filled with curiosity.

Levi chuckles, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “That, and the others will probably be offended if I show up naked,” he replies with a smirk, his thumb gently playing with the clasp.

Your lips curl into a playful smile. “Can I help you put it on?” you offer, eager to be a part of this small ritual.

Levi’s smirk turns into a warm smile as he extends the necklace towards you. “Sure,” he says, his voice filled with affection.

With a gentle touch, you carefully clasp the necklace around his neck, the cool metal contrasting against the warmth of his skin. As you secure the clasp, your fingers brush against his nape, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. Gasping audibly, he shudders at the touch, goosebumps welling up along his back.

Levi turns to face you, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of gratitude and adoration. The necklace sits perfectly, accentuating Levi’s features and adding an air of elegance to his form. “Thank you,” he murmurs softly, his hand reaching up to caress the necklace.

Levi swiftly adorns himself with additional pieces of silver jewelry, each one adding to his captivating appearance. The tight metal bracelets encircle his biceps, emphasizing the strength and definition of his muscles. The glimmering rings on his fingers catch the light, adding a touch of elegance and charm to his hands.

You can’t help but chuckle at his adorned form, realizing that this is the first time you’ve seen him dressed in such a way. The contrast between his usual simplicity and the newfound embellishments is both amusing and endearing.

“It’s hilarious that after everything, this is the first time I’ve actually seen you dressed,” you comment with a playful smile.

Levi grins back at you, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes. “I don’t wear nearly as much as some of the others,” he replies, his voice tinged with amusement.

You watch as Levi’s expression transforms, his eyes filled with a mixture of reverence and sorrow. The item he retrieves from the depths of the crevice holds a profound significance, and his voice carries a weight of emotions as he speaks.

“This was my mother’s,” he says, his tone infused with both awe and sad nostalgia. His fingers gently trace the delicate contours of the necklace, as if seeking a connection to the memories it holds. “She didn’t have a lot of things, obviously, but she always had a handful of necklaces covering her chest. They were the few small reminders of the life she had before she got captured.”

Levi’s voice trembles slightly as he continues, his gaze fixed upon the necklace. “She gave this one to me one of the last few times I saw her.”

As you listen to Levi’s quiet words, a sense of empathy and understanding washes over you. The way he holds it is so gentle, cradled in his palm like it's fragile. It's clear that the necklace holds a profound significance in his life, serving as a tangible connection to his mother and the moments they cherished together. It represents the resilience and strength of his past, a reminder of the love and bond they shared, even in the face of adversity.

Reaching out, you gently place your hand on Levi’s, offering comfort and support. Words feel insufficient in this moment, as the weight of his emotions fills the air. The shared silence speaks volumes, conveying a deep understanding and reverence for the importance of this heirloom.

As he holds it out towards you, the weight of the moment hangs in the air. The delicate silver metal chain gleams softly, leading to the focal point of the piece—a large, ornamental gemstone at the base. The stone captivates with its dark, swirling forest green color, adorned with orbs and swirls of black, creating a mesmerizing pattern that almost seems to move.

Cautiously, you run your fingers along the metal of the necklace, tracing the delicate weave of the chain. With a gentle smile, you inquire, “What was her name?”

Levi’s voice softens as he shares, “Kuchel.” The name carries a weight of significance and tenderness, as if it holds cherished memories and a profound sense of longing.

“That’s a beautiful name,” you remark, your voice filled with empathy. “Do you remember anything about her?”

Levi’s expression turns wistful as he reminisces about his mother. “I barely remember what she looked like,” he admits, a touch of sadness in his voice. “She was always so frail when I was brought to visit her.”

You listen attentively, sensing the weight of his words. “She had a collection of necklaces, with that unique stone. Whenever the handlers tried to take them from her, she always fought tooth and nail.”

A smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you recognize the strength in her spirit. “She was a fighter, just like you,” you remark, admiration lacing your voice.

Levi’s gaze softens, a mix of pride and longing in his eyes. “I think she would have been happier in The Pit than in the breeding cages,” he confides. “Though she always smiled so happily whenever I was brought over.”

There’s a bittersweet undertone to his words, a sense of longing for a different life for his mother. You offer a comforting presence, understanding the complexities of their situation.

“I think she knew it was the last time I’d be seeing her. That’s why she gave it to me,” Levi continues, his voice filled with a mixture of sadness and gratitude. “It smelled like her for a while after.”

A gentle silence settles between you as you take in the depth of his emotions. Then, curiosity sparks within you, and you inquire, “Did you ever wear it?”

Levi’s lips curl into a nostalgic smile. “When I was small, I could clasp it around my waist, but I was always terrified of breaking it during a fight,” he admits, a hint of vulnerability in his voice.

You nod in understanding, appreciating the significance of the necklace to him. It serves as a tangible connection to his mother, a reminder of her love and strength.

Staring down at the swirling stone, he bites his lip. Suddenly, his eyes dart up to meet yours, the smoky grey orbs firm with a clear decision. “Take it,” he insists, his voice filled with determination, as he pushes the cool stone into your palm.

“I can’t-” you protest weakly, pushing the stone back towards him.

His response is firm and unwavering, the words carrying both sincerity and conviction. “She'd want you to have it.” Levi’s insistence catches you by surprise, and you hesitate, looking down at the necklace now resting in your hand.

You meet his gaze, searching for any signs of doubt or hesitation, but find none. There is a deep earnestness in his eyes, and you realize that he truly believes his mother would want you to have the necklace.

With a soft smile, you bring the necklace closer, feeling the smooth coolness of the stone against your skin. “Thank you, Levi,” you say, gratitude and humility evident in your voice. “I’ll cherish it forever.”

Levi’s smile widens, a mixture of relief and appreciation crossing his features. Moved by his gesture, you accept the necklace with a mix of gratitude and reverence. Holding the precious heirloom in your hands, you can't help but feel the weight of its history and the love that Levi's mother must have held for him.

“My turn,” Levi hums, urging you to turn around. As Levi clasps the necklace behind your neck, you feel a gentle sense of connection, as if you are carrying a piece of Levi’s past with you. The cool stone rests against your skin, a comforting presence that serves as a reminder of the bond you share and the strength that resides within both of you.

Levi leans back, his eyes tracing the delicate silver chain and the stone pendant that now adorns your neck. It's long, stretching down from your neck to rest between your breasts. There’s a sense of satisfaction in his gaze, a silent acknowledgment of the significance of this moment.

“Thank you,” you say again, reaching out to touch his arm. “For entrusting me with something so precious.”

Levi’s smile is both bittersweet and filled with gratitude. “It fits you,” he replies, his voice filled with warmth. Taking your hand, his thumb works a fond circle into the skin along the back of your hand. The soft look in his eyes makes your heart skip a beat. “She would have liked you.”

His heartfelt words bring a genuine smile to your face, and you can feel your cheeks flushing with a mix of joy and shyness. The thought of Levi’s mother approving of you fills you with a sense of validation and joy.

With the weight of the necklace around your neck, you step forward together, ready to face the challenges that lie ahead. Hand in hand, you step out of the nest, ready to embrace the world and the possibilities it holds. The rainstorm may have kept you confined, but it also created a sense of anticipation, a sense of pent-up energy that now propels you forward. With Levi by your side, you venture forth, ready to discover what awaits beyond the protective embrace of the nest.

Levi turns, quickly twisting the branches back to cover up the entrance behind you. “I'll come back a couple times while I'm out hunting to check on it. Make sure nothing has decided to move in.” Watching the scraggly entrance disappear beneath a layer of woven pine fills the air with a bittersweet feeling. Saying goodbye to the place you’ve called home for so long tugs at your heartstrings, and a wave of nostalgia washes over you. As you take one last look at the familiar surroundings, you can’t help but feel a sense of gratitude for the shelter and safety the nest provided during your time there.

Stepping out into the forest, you’re greeted by a vibrant and lively scene. The air is filled with the sounds of chirping birds, rustling leaves, and the soft whispers of the wind. The canopy above casts dappled sunlight on the forest floor, creating a magical interplay of light and shadow. The dark and ominous atmosphere of the forest floor is contrasted by the vibrant life that thrives within it.

The journey to the river is swift, the path familiar to both you and Levi. As you reach the riverside, a breathtaking sight unfolds before your eyes. The water rushes down from the mountainside, cascading in a dazzling display of sparkling droplets. The sunlight dances upon the water’s surface, creating a mesmerizing play of reflections and glimmering ripples.

You find a peaceful spot by the river's edge, its serene beauty captivating your senses. The gentle sound of the rushing water creates a soothing melody, lulling you into a state of tranquility. It's a precious moment of respite, allowing you to immerse yourself in the wonders of nature and find solace in its simplicity.

Leaning over the water's edge, you catch a reflection of yourself in the calm, drifting surface. Despite the monumental changes in your life, you're struck by how little your physical appearance has altered. The face staring back at you remains familiar, unchanged by the profound shifts that have occurred within you.

But as your gaze lingers, your breath catches at the sight of your mating mark. Nestled at the pulse of your neck, where it meets your shoulder, is a perfectly rounded indentation of teeth. Its dark, striking appearance contrasts beautifully against your skin, a tangible reminder of the bond you share with Levi. You're captivated by its significance, finding beauty in the symbol that represents your deep connection and commitment.

“It's beautiful,” you breathe, your voice filled with emotion and admiration for the mark that binds you together.

“I'm glad you think so,” Levi responds, curling up to join you by the river's edge. A contented smile graces his face, mirroring the peace and joy radiating from within. Side by side, you bask in the serenity of the moment, immersed in the gentle warmth of the sun on your skin and the caress of a cool breeze against your face. It's a perfect pause in your journey, a precious interlude to embrace the sheer beauty of the world that surrounds you.

Together, you immerse yourselves in the cool stream, feeling the refreshing water against your skin. The rush of the river washes away the dust and grime accumulated from your time in the nest, leaving you feeling revitalized and rejuvenated. The water cascades over your bodies, carrying away the remnants of the past and preparing you for the new chapter that lies ahead. The worries and burdens of your previous life momentarily fade away, replaced by a lightness of being.

However, the tranquility is interrupted by an ominous sound in the distance, a loud crunching sound resonating from within The Maw’s dense canopy downhill. Turning towards it, you think you can even see one of The Maw’s giant trees shaking from the impact. Levi’s senses sharpen, and he instinctively tastes the air, alert to the potential danger lurking nearby. With a soft hiss, he urges you to rise with one hand gently tugging at your shoulder. “Come on. We should get going.”

“Y-yeah,” you agree shakily. With a sense of urgency, you heed Levi’s words and rise from the stream, water cascading off your bodies as you move to quickly dress. Another loud crunching sound from The Maw’s canopy sends a shiver down your spine, heightening your awareness of the potential danger lurking in the forest. Levi's hand gently tugs at your shoulder, his hiss urging you to move swiftly.

The once serene ambiance is now overshadowed by the ominous sounds echoing from The Maw. As you gather your belongings, you can't help but feel a surge of anxiety coursing through your veins, heightening your senses and propelling you to act quickly. Time is of the essence, and you and Levi make your way towards safety, leaving the peaceful riverside behind as you navigate the challenging terrain ahead.

Fortunately, the source of the ominous crunching sounds doesn’t seem to be pursuing you, either disinterested or hindered by its immense size. The fading echoes provide some relief, easing the tension in the air as you continue your ascent up the steep mountainside.

Each step becomes a struggle against gravity, the strain on your knees and thighs intensifying with every upward movement. The burning sensation in your muscles serves as a reminder of the physical exertion required to conquer the challenging terrain. Despite your determination, the mountain seems to taunt you from the distant horizon, teasing you with its seemingly unreachable proximity.

The path is rugged and unforgiving, filled with uneven terrain and treacherous obstacles. Your muscles ache from the sustained effort, and fatigue begins to settle in. Yet, you push forward, driven by determination and the knowledge that reaching the summit will be a triumph of endurance.

With each breath, you draw in the thin mountain air, feeling the coolness fill your lungs. The air becomes thinner as you ascend, adding another layer of challenge to the already demanding climb. Your heart pounds in your chest, matching the rhythm of your footsteps, as if urging you to persevere.

Despite the physical strain, you find solace in the breathtaking scenery surrounding you. The towering peaks, majestic cliffs, and sweeping vistas remind you of the vastness and beauty of the natural world. The sheer grandeur of the mountainscape provides a sense of perspective, reminding you of the insignificance of your individual struggles in the grand tapestry of the universe.

As you continue your ascent, you find strength in the camaraderie between you and Levi. His presence serves as a source of motivation and encouragement, as you both share in the arduous journey together. He offers to carry you several more times, but you decline him each and every time. You get the impression that he's moving slow, keeping pace with you, and you deeply appreciate the gesture.

Time seems to stretch endlessly as you climb higher, but eventually, you begin to notice subtle signs of progress. The angle of the slope gradually eases, and the summit looms ever closer. The burning sensation in your muscles is accompanied by a sense of accomplishment, knowing that you’ve persevered through the challenges and hardships.

As the sun begins to descend, its warm golden light bathes the landscape in a serene glow, creating a picturesque setting. Your gaze follows the transition from the grassy banks of the river to a pathway adorned with smooth white and grey stones. These stones create a defined trail that runs parallel to the river, guiding your journey towards the awe-inspiring snow-capped ridges of Prime and Skull that loom majestically above.

The sight of these towering peaks fills you with a profound sense of awe and reverence. The sheer size and grandeur of the mountains command your attention, leaving you with a tingling sensation of insignificance in their presence. Even this early in spring, it's warm enough for you to be sweating slightly, and yet the snow persists high above. Looking up at the ridges, you can’t help but feel a slight ache in your neck from the strain of craning your head to take in their immense height.

Yet, despite the physical discomfort, the sight before you is undeniably breathtaking. It feels as if nature itself has sculpted a magnificent gateway between Prime and Skull, where the two mountains converge with a high ridge. The worn grey stone wall that separates them bears the marks of the relentless force of the river you’ve been following, its surface eroded and weathered over time. It's as if the river had slowly burrowed its way through the mountain wall, creating an opening to the little haven nestled within.

“It is like a giant wall,” you breathe in awe, watching the golden sunlight filter over the rugged edge.

“Armin’s spotted us.” Levi’s voice breaks through your reverie, drawing your attention to the high ridge. Following his gaze, you spot a figure standing atop the rocky mountain wall. It’s a small shadowed figure, waving its arm with enthusiasm, signaling their excitement at your arrival. It hops, excitedly rushing along the stone and down the rough slope.

“He has legs!” you note with surprise, watching the figure run across the top of the ridge.

You watch in awe as Armin swiftly descends the mountainside, effortlessly maneuvering through the uneven ridges with a remarkable display of agility and grace. His movements are fluid and confident, reflecting his familiarity with the rugged terrain. It’s evident that Armin has honed his skills and adapted to the challenges of this world, allowing him to traverse the landscape with ease.

Soon enough, he's on level ground with you, stopping a short distance away and struggling to catch his breath. “Hi,” Armin breathes excitedly, his chest heaving from the run. His eyes widen in awe as he takes in your unfamiliar form.

You feel equally stunned. “You’re a faun!” you exclaim, unable to contain your excitement as you take in Armin’s unique lower body with its little goat legs. The limbs are coated in short blond fur, matching the blond locks on his head.

Armin smiles, clearly pleased by your reaction. “And you're a human! I've never met a human before!”

You can’t help but be fascinated by Armin’s unique appearance. His long furry ears and little white horns add to his charming and otherworldly presence. You find yourself drawn to these distinctive features, curious about the intricacies of his faun nature.

As you take in Armin's appearance, you notice a small blue tome in his hands. He shuffles it back and forth between his fingers, clearly eager to engage in a conversation. “It's nice to meet you! I have so many questions.."

Levi interrupts with a hint of amusement, "It's getting late. Can we at least make it inside before you begin interrogating her?"

Armin's excitement is palpable as he exclaims, "Oh! Right! I’ll go let the others know you're back!" His hooves clack against the stone walkway as he runs off, disappearing between the stone walls. His eagerness to share the news with the others is evident in his hurried departure.

Levi lets out a small sigh, a hint of amusement in his voice. “I don’t know why he’s ever on guard duty. He gets too distracted by reading to really pay attention.”

You can’t help but chuckle at the image of Armin tucked up along the mountain wall, engrossed in the pages of a thick tome. You'd barely met him, but you know just from looking at him that he must be smart.

“He saw us coming well enough,” you point out. “He’s so young, do you guys normally have teens guarding the village?”

Levi nods, his expression serious. “It’s voluntary, and they’re mostly kept doing menial tasks until they’re older. Some of them patrol as well, but they’re supposed to call for an adult if they encounter anything significant.” There’s a hint of frustration in his voice, suggesting that not everyone adheres to that rule.

Continuing forward to pass through the mountain walls, you notice an excited crowd gathering just beyond the entrance. Anxiety rears its ugly head, causing a painful lurch in your stomach, momentarily halting your progress.

Sensing your concern, Levi stops beside you. "Most of the adults are probably still... busy, so it'll likely be mostly a younger crowd."

Levi's hand gently finds its place on your lower back, offering a comforting touch. "It'll be fine," he assures you with a soft voice, his presence providing reassurance.

Taking a deep breath, you let Levi’s words sink in and allow his touch to calm your nerves. With his support, you gather the strength to step forward and join the gathering crowd.

As you approach, the excited chatter and laughter of the younger villagers fill the air. Their eyes widen with curiosity and anticipation as they catch sight of you and Levi, returning from your journey. Some of them wave eagerly, while others nudge each other, whispering in hushed tones.

Levi’s presence by your side provides a sense of stability amidst the bustling atmosphere. You feel a mix of nervousness and excitement as you prepare to face the curious gazes and questions of Levi’s young den-mates.

Their excited whispers intertwine, creating a symphony of voices that reaches your ears. Amongst the sea of sound, you catch snippets of their astonishment. “A Human?” “Levi brought a human here?” The surprise in their voices only adds to the nervousness already bubbling within you.

With a timid wave, you stutter a hesitant greeting, unsure where to direct your gaze in the midst of the numerous figures that surround you.

At the front of the crowd, Armin, ever perceptive, notices the edge of your mating mark peeking out from the collar of your blouse. His voice cracks with sheer surprise as he poses the question that hangs in the air, “Wait! Are you Levi’s mate?”

The crowd’s excited chatter cuts to stark silence before swelling, transforming into a cacophony of noise. Curiosity, astonishment, and anticipation blend together in a symphony of voices. All eyes are fixed on you, awaiting your response, and the weight of the moment hangs palpably in the air.

In that pivotal moment, emotions surge within you—vulnerability, tinged with a hint of embarrassment. But as you meet Levi’s gaze, a sense of strength washes over you, bolstering your resolve.

Taking a steadying breath, you gather your composure. Pride and affection resonate in your voice as you address the crowd. “Yes, I am,” you declare, your words carrying the weight of your connection.

Impossibly, the crowd somehow gets louder, their excitement escalating to a fervor. Whispers and murmurs rise to a crescendo, filling the air with a cacophony of voices. The sheer volume of their reactions takes you aback, momentarily overwhelmed by the intensity of their response.

You exchange a bewildered glance with Levi, both of you caught off guard by the magnitude of their enthusiasm. Questions are fired at a rapid-fire pace from all directions, creating a chaotic chorus of voices that overwhelms your senses. Feeling the pressure mounting, you instinctively take a step back, seeking a moment of respite.

Levi’s arm slides across your back, his fingers pressing gently into your shoulder, offering a reassuring touch amidst the whirlwind of inquiries. With a glare and a firm tone, he barks, “Easy, easy. Not all at fucking once.”

The gaggle of teens surrounding you immediately look abashed, their excitement subdued by Levi’s stern command.

“It's late, and she's tired from the journey,” Levi points out. “One question each. You'll have time to ask more later.”

The tense atmosphere eases slightly as Levi's authoritative voice resonates across the field. The teenagers exchange sheepish glances, seemingly challenging one another to break the silence. Finally, one of them steps forward, their voice filled with curiosity.

"How did you meet the Captain?" Armin asks quietly, bravely stepping up.

"Captain?" you repeat, a bit confused. Turning, you catch Levi's eye.

"It's my rank," Levi explains casually. "Having leaders helps keep hunting WildOnes safer. I tend to hunt alone, though." His fingers curl around your shoulder, the nails gently digging into your skin. "She actually saved my life." His voice carries a sense of pride.

A smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you recall the memory. "And then you immediately tried to kill me," you playfully recall with a hint of fondness, reflecting on the unexpected turn of events that marked the beginning of your journey together.

Confusion spreads through the crowd, and a brown-haired naga speaks up next, his tone curt. "So what made you stick around? Surely it wasn't his charming personality?"

"Eren, don't be rude," the dark-haired girl beside him interjects, reprimanding his remark.

Turning towards her, he gestures vaguely at the Naga by your side. "What? He spends most of the time leaning in corners, scowling at us. That's not exactly welcoming. Plus, Levi hates humans."

There's a pause in the conversation as the tension lingers in the air. It seems that Levi's demeanor and reputation have left some questioning why you chose to stay by his side.

You reply with a hint of mystery, a smile curving your lips. "Let's just say we have a lot in common."

"What does that even mean?" questions a sandy-haired Naga, his face twisting up in a blatant show of confusion.

You take a moment to gather your thoughts before speaking up. “Wait, wait,” you begin. “Can we take a step back a bit so you can all tell me your names? I know Armin, but that’s about it.”

Taking the opportunity, the sandy-haired Naga, pushes forward to the front of the crowd and introduces himself with a sharp smile. "I'm Jean," he says. His scales are a sandy brown, akin to autumn leaves coating the forest floor. Yet, they glisten and shimmer like gold in the warm glow of the evening sun.

Frowning, the rude boy, Eren, pushes in front of Jean and introduces himself with a short bark. "Eren," he announces. His scales are green, reminiscent of the rich, deep shade of the forest behind your shoulders.

"Mikasa," the dark-haired girl by his side introduces herself quietly, accompanied by a shy wave. Her scales mirror the same color as Levi's, a rich deep black, but they glimmer with a subtle undertone of red.

"Connie," says the scruffy-headed boy next to her, lips spreading in a wide, fanged smile. He's unmistakably a fox spirit, adorned with two grey-furred fluffy ears sprouting from the sides of his head, accompanied by three fluffy tails. He points towards his furry ears and exclaims, "Don't worry, your eyes aren't deceiving you, these aren't faux!" In response to his own joke, the boy bursts into laughter, his ears tilted back and his eyes pinched tight.

Surrounded by his friends, their response is a collective groan and cringe. However, Connie finds the situation even more amusing and his laughter intensifies. He's forced to wrap his arms around his waist, unable to contain the deep chortles that escape him.

Suddenly he stops, turning to the friend to his right with a horrified look on his face. “Wait, would ‘fox-tastic to meet you’ have been funnier?”

With a cruel smile, the girl next to him responds, "Neither of them were funny. I'm Sasha," she introduces herself with an adorable bounce. Her ponytail accentuates her features, and her scales resemble the dark brown hue of tree bark. The bow across her back, along with the fletch of arrows, hints at a surprising proficiency in archery.

You take the opportunity to introduce yourself as well. "It's nice to meet all of you," you say. "Forgive me if I forget names; I have a feeling I'll be learning a lot of new ones over the next few days."

By your side, Levi supplies, “There's a bunch of other younger den-mates that you'll meet later. Most of the adults might be occupied for a while longer.”

Noticing the weight of your backpack pressing against your back, Sasha’s excitement takes over, and she eagerly moves closer. “Do you have any food?” she asks, her curiosity piqued.

“I think I have a slice of bread, but it's probably pretty stale..” Noticing Sasha’s excitement and eagerness, you rummage through your backpack and find the last remaining slice of bread. However, as you pull it out, you realize it’s incredibly stale and crumbled, having been in your bag for almost a month. Sasha immediately snaps it out of your hand, greedily stuffing it into her mouth. Concerned, you warn Sasha, “Hey, wait! You probably shouldn’t eat that!”

But it’s too late. Sasha, driven by her hunger, greedily stuffs the crumbly slice of bread into her mouth, devouring it without hesitation. She munches it along with the paper wrapping.

"It's fine," Connie reassures you, waving off your concern. "I've seen Sasha eat rocks."

"Mmmph," Sasha mumbles with a mouthful of food, attempting to refute Connie's statement. “‘ave not.”

“Can humans really spit acid?” Jean asks, pulling your attention away from the horrifying sight of watching Sasha struggle to chew the paper.

With a surprised laugh, you reply, “What? No? Where did you even hear that?”

Eren quickly interjects, pointing at Jean, “See! I told you that was idiotic-”

Suddenly, a loud squeal pierces through the conversation, grabbing everyone's attention. "LEEEVIII!!" echoes through the air, causing Levi to release a loud sigh by your side.

Confused, you glance at him, seeking an explanation, but before you can ask, the crowd hastily makes way. A figure sprints straight toward the two of you, almost bowling Levi over with an exuberant hug.

"You're back!" they cheer excitedly, shaking Levi back and forth with their arms tightly wrapped around his shoulders, while his face is pressed into their neck. Levi's hands scramble behind their back, trying to pull away from the enthusiastic embrace.

"It's way too quiet when you're gone," they express, emphasizing how much they missed Levi's presence.

"H-hange," Levi wheezes, struggling in their grasp. "Let me go, you fucking nut."

You can't help but let out a soft laugh at Levi's predicament, which earns you a hollow glare. Unfortunately, the sound captures their attention, and they release Levi, quickly turning toward you with a loud gasp.

"A human!" they exclaim excitedly, their dark brown eyes scanning your form. They step forward, patting their hands along your arms. "Levi, you brought a human here?"

You observe their unique appearance, unsure of exactly what they are. Dark brown branches twist and wind, growing out from the skin at their shoulders. More branches sprout from the crown of their head, twisting around their face like goat horns. They're coated with soft green moss, and a handful of leaves sprout from the outer branches, giving them an intriguing and nature-inspired appearance.

As their hands gently explore your hair, tracing the curve of your ear with keen fascination, you become acutely aware of the attention you’re receiving from the crowd. Among them, you stand out as the only one without pointed ears, making you somewhat of a curiosity. However, Hange’s perceptive gaze suddenly fixates on your mating mark, causing them to pause in wide-eyed astonishment.

Their thumb grazes the edge of your mark, an action that triggers a protective response from Levi, who hovers nearby with evident concern. A sharp hiss escapes Levi’s lips, revealing his unease at the intimate contact near your mark.

"Levi, you MATED!" Hange exclaims, their excitement momentarily overshadowing any sense of personal boundaries. They envelop you in a tight and overpowering hug, squeezing you to their chest with a force that leaves you breathless. Speaking quickly, they ramble, “Hi! I'm Hange! I need to know everything about you! What's your name?”

Though you're not entirely pleased with their invasion of your personal space, you try to maintain a polite composure. "Hi, Hange," you manage to respond, your voice slightly strained from the tight embrace. Feeling overwhelmed, you make an attempt to step away, seeking the comfort of your mate.

Levi intervenes with a stern warning, interrupting the conversation. “Don’t tell them your name,” Levi interjects. “They’re Fae. Hange has a habit of stealing names for their own entertainment, and you’ll be without it for several hours.”

You pause, taking in Levi’s words and realizing the cautionary advice. You decide to heed his warning and refrain from revealing your name for the time being. Continuing to try to wiggle out of their grip, you remain quiet.

"Levi, why do you always have to ruin my fun," Hange whines dramatically, pouting with a frown. "Do you realize how long it's been since I've met someone new? I hardly get the chance to trick anyone."

From somewhere behind you, Armin chimes in, "You did steal Pixis's name for half a day last week, though."

Hange grumbles in response, "Thanks, Armin. That's very helpful. And besides, I wasn't even planning on tricking her!"

"Why do I have a feeling that's a lie," you remark, sensing their mischievous nature.

Hange’s exuberance is palpable as they cackle with delight, giving you a firm pat on the back and sporting a wide grin. “We’re going to be the best of friends, I can already tell! Levi, come on, just tell me her name!”

Levi releases a weary sigh and reluctantly reveals your name, explaining, “That’s the rule. Hange can only play their games if you directly tell them your name.” He moves closer to you and tugs at your arm. “Are you going to let them go now?”

Finally, they release you. Hange’s disappointment is evident for a moment, but their curiosity quickly resurfaces. “Oh, but I still have so many questions! And it's been so long since I've met a human. Where are you from? What are your hobbies?

Feeling overwhelmed, you recall the books in your bag, one of which was lent to Levi. Pulling out “An Analysis on the Refraction of Light,” you offer it to Hange. “I skimmed through the book you lent to Levi.”

Their eyes widen with excitement as they take the thick tome from your hands, flipping through the pages until they reach a specific chapter. “What did you think? Chapter twenty-eight is my favorite. It discusses how the density of different gemstones can affect their refraction.”

You admit honestly, “I didn’t get that far. It was kind of… boring.”

Levi’s soft laugh catches your attention, and you realize that perhaps calling the book boring in front of Hange wasn’t the best choice. However, Hange remains undeterred, their excitement unfazed.

“Light is truly fascinating,” they exclaim. “I have a theory that the sun affects the WildOnes in some way. Even creatures that thrive in the light become nocturnal once they’re overcome. I've conducted several experiments-”

A loud chorus of groans resonates amongst the teens behind them. You get the impression that they're about to go on a tirade, one that they go on quite often.

“Hange, it’s practically night,” Levi interrupts, his voice laced with exhaustion. “Both of us are tired from the hike, and I believe a few of these brats are supposed to be on night-watch duty.” He gestures towards the group, a handful of which suddenly look abashed.

The sun’s descent behind the mountain paints the sky in a rich, dark orange hue, reminiscent of a dying flame. As you take in the view, your gaze settles on the sight of several tightly packed wooden buildings, nestled not far along the rocky trail. These quaint and picturesque houses are scattered on both sides of the river, creating a charming scene. Curious heads peek around the corners, observing you with a mixture of interest and caution. Amidst the onlookers, you catch a glimpse of a glittering, soft pink tail before it quickly disappears behind one of the buildings.

“Fine,” Hange sighs loudly. Their demeanor suddenly shifts, their tone becoming serious, “but I do need to speak with you for a moment.” Jerking their chin, they indicate to Levi that the conversation needs to be private.

“This better actually be important,” Levi grumbles Turning to you, he leans up to press a soft kiss to the swell of your cheek. “I'll be right back.”

“I'll be waiting,” you reply. As they move away, you watch their retreating figures, feeling a mix of curiosity and anticipation for what they have to discuss. With Levi’s reassurance that he’ll return soon, you take a moment to observe your surroundings once again, the quiet beauty of the quaint houses and the curious onlookers adding to the sense of intrigue in this unfamiliar place.

As more figures join the onlookers, their curiosity evident in their eyes and expressions, the crowd around you becomes increasingly animated. The group of teenagers, emboldened by Levi’s absence, seize the opportunity to bombard you with a flurry of questions, seemingly unaffected by his previous warning. Their excitement and eagerness are palpable.

But amidst the sea of happy and excited faces, a stark contrast emerges in your mind. Memories resurface of the last time you found yourself surrounded by a crowd, but back then, the faces were expressions of fear and disgust. The stark difference between the two situations is not lost on you, evoking a bittersweet realization.

Amidst the flurry of questions from the teenagers, you do your best to provide answers and engage with them. The crowd is still abuzz with excitement, but your attention momentarily shifts to Hange and Levi in the distance. Hange's animated gestures and loud voice catch your attention, and you can't help but smile at their enthusiasm.

Levi, on the other hand, appears slightly embarrassed as Hange playfully slaps his shoulder. You meet his gaze, and there's a fleeting moment of connection as your mating mark flutters with a distant call for help. Understanding the unspoken message, you send a reassuring smile his way, silently acknowledging the bond you share.

In this new and unfamiliar place, it's comforting to have someone you can rely on, even amidst the bustling crowd.

Yawning widely, you suddenly realize just how exhausted you are. Every bit of you seems to ache from the hike. Levi immediately slides back to your side, obviously having had enough of whatever antics Hange was spouting, one arm sliding across the small of your back.

Feeling the warmth of his touch and the protective presence he offers, you lean into him, grateful for his presence. With each passing moment, the weariness of the day begins to settle, and the need for rest becomes undeniable. “I think it's time we call it,” Levi offers softly, only half-addressing the crowd.

“Probably a good idea,” you agree. “Feels like I could fall asleep upright.”

Turning toward the crowd of teens, Levi says, “Whomever is supposed to be on watch should get up on the walls.”

Waving behind you as Levi pulls you away, you say, “Night guys. It was nice to meet you!”

As the loud chorus of goodbyes fades into the distance, you and Levi continue up the trail. Suddenly, a retching sound breaks through the distant chatter, followed by Connie’s alarmed scream of “Not on my tail!” The sound prompts a soft chuckle to escape your lips, realizing that Sasha couldn’t keep down the bread she had consumed.

With a mix of exhaustion and amusement, you continue walking alongside Levi, your steps growing lighter as the weight of the day gradually lifts.

You don't make it far before a shy brown-scaled Naga approaches. He's an adult, you note with surprise. “Moblit,” Levi greets friendly, a knowing gleam in his eyes. “You're up early.”

The brunette scratches his neck shyly, the skin free from a mating mark. “Yeah- Hange- they- Yeah,” he struggles to explain. With a deep breath, he meets your eyes, “I have a small garden that I use to grow materials to make paints. It's mostly flowers, but there's a handful of fruits and berries. You're more than welcome to it,” he offers. “I know your diet is different. Armin already eats from it.”

With a grateful smile, you respond, “Thank you, Moblit. That’s incredibly kind of you. I would love to take a look at your garden and see what I can find. I have a bit of farming experience so I can help you tend to it if you want?”

Moblit’s eyes widen in surprise, his shyness momentarily giving way to a glimmer of hope. “That would be amazing,” he says, his voice filled with genuine appreciation. “I could definitely use some help. It’s not easy maintaining it all by myself. I mostly just let it go wild. Your farming experience would be invaluable.”

You offer a nod and a smile, affirming your agreement. “Sounds like a plan, then.”

With a soft "good night," Moblit slithers past you, making his way towards Hange. As you observe Hange casually throwing their arm around Moblit's shoulder, their animated conversation uninterrupted, a question lingers on your mind. Tentatively, you voice your curiosity, asking, "Are they-"

Levi responds with a shake of his head and a noncommittal shrug of his shoulders. "Sort of. Fae can't bond, so they've never really committed to anything." The implications behind Levi's words sink in, evoking a sense of sadness. The limitations imposed by Hange’s fae nature must weigh heavily on the both of them, hindering the depth of their connection and potentially leaving them with unfulfilled desires and unresolved frustrations.

As you contemplate the situation, you can't help but imagine the emotional burden they carry. The unfulfilled yearnings and unspoken frustrations must create a weight that is difficult to bear, highlighting the complexities and limitations of their relationship.

As you continue along the winding rock path, tracing its course beside the rushing river, the rows of homes start to multiply, creating a sprawling community. You can't wait until morning, feeling the urge to explore the surroundings eagerly. However, a part of you also harbors a desire to sleep in, relishing the comfort of rest. It feels as though you could sleep through the entirety of tomorrow and still be tired.

Before long, you reach the far end of the mountain’s divot, where the river descends gently from the snowy peak of Prime. It takes a sharp left turn, cutting across the meadow with an energized flow. Levi’s guidance leads you towards your destination, his arm gently resting on the small of your waist. “This is us,” he says, indicating the last building, far along the path. There, nestled in the bend of the river, stands his home—a charming, wide wooden cabin that exudes warmth and coziness.

Intrigued by the beauty of the surroundings, you find yourself curious about the river. Seizing the opportunity, you inquire, “I never asked, does the river have a name?”

Levi’s response catches you off guard as he reveals, “Scarlet Vein.”

“That’s not at all terrifying,” you jest sarcastically, acknowledging the macabre connotation associated with the name. Eager to understand the reason behind such a name, you press further, asking, “Why’s it called that?”

Levi’s voice carries a hint of solemnity as he unravels the history behind the name. “Before Naga settled here, there were so many WildOnes in the area that the river was constantly red with blood.” His words paint a vivid picture of a tumultuous past, where the presence of fierce creatures resulted in frequent clashes and intense battles. “It's mostly just referred to as The Vein now.”

As you step up onto the small porch, the symphony of crickets fills the air, their lazy chirping blending harmoniously with the serene surroundings of the rolling grass fields. The quaint cabin, with its charming garden bed in front, welcomes you warmly. “You have a garden?”

“My chamomile is already starting to sprout,” Levi notes with a pleased nod. Even in the darkness, you can sense his delight, and you find it endearing to witness his excitement over the small sprouts. It’s a testament to his care and dedication towards the garden. It's adorable that he has such cute hobbies.

You smile, appreciating his gesture as he holds the door open for you. Hand sliding along your shoulder blade, he asks, “I don't suppose you want a tour?”

“I would love a tour,” you reply, “but that can wait until morning. You might be able to see in the dark, but it's pitch black in here. And I'm tired.” You shake your head, laughing softly. Crossing the entryway in front of him, blind in the near pitch-black darkness, you kick off your boots by the door.

“The bedrooms this way,” Levi lets out a snort, his amusement evident as he guides you through the darkness toward the back of the house. As you enter the room, the soft moonlight filtering through the large window catches your attention, evoking a breath of awe. “You have an actual bed!” you exclaim, marveling at the sight.

The mattress is enormous, dominating the space and inviting you with its plush appearance. Without hesitation, you bounce down onto it, sinking into the softness with a pleasant heaviness. The realization that the blankets are made of actual cotton adds to the feeling of indulgence, and you revel in the simple pleasure of the cozy bedding. “And actual cotton blankets!”

Lying there, surrounded by the gentle glow of moonlight and the embrace of the comfortable bed, a wave of tranquility washes over you. The weariness of the day begins to dissipate, replaced by a serene contentment. It seems that in this moment, you have found a haven of rest and relaxation. “This is paradise,” you whisper softly, appreciating the simple yet profound pleasure of being in such a comfortable and peaceful setting.

Levi pulls himself up on the mattress to your left, curling around you. The mattress shifts and tilts beneath his heavy mass. He explains, “One of the villages a mountain over has a cotton field and some sheep. We trade with them quite often.”

“I'll have to see if I can get more clothes from them,” you note. It'll be nice to have at least a couple more changes of clothing. At the very least, you'd like to sleep in something other than a well worn blouse and trousers.

Levi acknowledges your remark with a nod, understanding the importance of having a few more changes of clothing. “We’ll figure something out,” he assures you, his voice carrying a reassuring tone.

Turning to meet Levi’s eyes, you inquire, “What did Hange want?”

Levi's expression tightens and he lets out a frustrated sigh before responding, his voice laced with annoyance. "Other than hounding me about our mating? Hange wants me to investigate something. There have been sightings of a large entity near the entrance of the Den for the past few nights. They expect me to look into it tomorrow."

You raise an eyebrow at Levi's choice of words, sensing his reluctance. Trying to clarify the nature of the investigation, you ask, "By investigate, do you mean kill?"

Levi's features harden, his expression growing more serious. "It's a possibility," he admits, his tone tinged with determination. "They're not even sure if it’s something Wild, but if it poses a threat to our safety or the safety of the village, I won't hesitate to eliminate it. But I'll assess the situation first before deciding on the necessary course of action."

The weight of his responsibility and the seriousness of the task ahead are evident in Levi's words. Though the prospect of danger looms, you find solace in the knowledge that Levi is prepared to face whatever challenges arise, with his unwavering resolve to keep those he cares about safe.

“Hange wants to try and capture whatever it is, if so, but there's no way we'd be able to contain something like that.” Levi continues with a frown. “I'm sorry, I wanted to give you a tour tomorrow, but it looks like you'll be on your own.”

“I'll be fine,” you sooth his worry with an assured pat on his chest. “I can wander alone if I need to. I'm sure someone would be willing to guide me around. Though, if I'm too sore I might just sleep all day.”

“Just promise me you won’t overexert yourself, alright?” Levi requests, his concern still evident in his voice. “Take it easy and enjoy your day, whether it’s exploring or simply resting. I’ll wake you up before I leave.”

You nod, happy at the thought. “Everyone is so friendly and welcoming,” you note, eyes fluttering heavily. Between the soft cotton blankets and the warm weight of your mate, weariness is surging. “It's so much different from home.”

With your eyes closed, your senses are sharp enough to feel the vibration of his soft response: "This is home now, remember?"

Levi's reminder tugs at your heart, emphasizing the sense of belonging you have found in this new place. The words resonate deeply within you, reinforcing the notion that’s been swirling along the back of your mind all evening. Home. This place feels like home. A feeling of belonging and acceptance washes over you. A few tears build in your waterline, but you quickly blink them away.

“Yeah,” you respond softly, your voice filled with a mixture of contentment and weariness. The weight of the day, combined with the comfort and security of your surroundings, overwhelms you, lulling you into a state of complete relaxation.

As your eyes flutter closed, you surrender to the exhaustion that has been building within you. Sleep envelops you swiftly, its embrace carrying you into a deep and restful slumber.

The night passes in a dreamless haze. With a soft kiss on your cheek, Levi gently awakens you from your deep slumber. The morning light casts a warm glow in the room, and you find yourself blinking away the remnants of sleep.

"Morning," you respond with a yawn, stretching your tired limbs across the comfortable bedding. The enticing aroma of cooking meat reaches your nostrils, stimulating your appetite.

"Is that food?" you inquire, your stomach rumbling in response to the delicious scent.

Levi nods, urging you to rise, but you let out a groan of protest due to the weariness in your muscles. However, the enticing aroma of cooking meat and the promise of a delicious meal motivate you to overcome your fatigue. With a soft smile, Levi explains, "The Braus family stopped by and brought some pheasant for us to eat. Along with a chair for you."

The mention of a chair surprises you, and you're deeply touched by their considerate gesture. Curiosity prompts you to inquire, "The Braus family?"

Levi smirks, a hint of amusement in his eyes, and replies, “You made their daughter throw up yesterday. They catch fresh food for everyone each day.”

Grateful for their thoughtfulness, you express your appreciation with a warm smile. “That’s incredibly kind of them. I’ll make sure to thank them when I have the chance.”

Levi nonchalantly adds, “The Braus family has a whole bunch of adopted kids of different species, so they probably just had a spare chair lying around.”

“It’s still nice that Sasha thought of me, even if I ended up making her sick,” you note with a touch of remorse. Curiosity piques once again, and you ask Levi, “Do you have a last name?”

Levi shrugs casually, his expression unchanged. “Not that I know of.” Tugging at your arm, he urges you up with a soft clasp, “Come on, I don't have long before I have to leave.”

Following Levi out of the bedroom, you take in the layout of the home, which consists of two main rooms. The front room has an open floor plan, with a kitchen, a dining room table, and a small sitting area. Your attention is drawn to the empty dining room table, a bare square of dark wood with just one solitary chair placed at the far end.

The aroma of sizzling pheasant fills the air as you admire the cooking taking place on the wood stove. "Thank you for preparing breakfast," you express your gratitude to Levi.

Levi nods with a hint of optimism. "Hopefully, Miche will have some luck catching chickens this year. Fresh eggs would be a great addition."

Settling down at the small table, the two of you enjoy your meal slowly. The cozy atmosphere is enhanced by the gentle filtering of light, creating a warm and comforting scene.

Time passes swiftly, and reluctantly, Levi has to depart. He presses a quick kiss to your lips before disappearing through the door, leaving behind a sweet memory of his presence.

Feeling utterly exhausted, you make your way back to the bedroom, finding solace in the embrace of the oversized mattress. It engulfs you, and beneath the comforting blankets, you feel both cozy and embraced. The lingering scent of him permeates the bedding, a reminder of his presence despite his absence for several months. Soaking in the familiar scent, you snuggle in further, quickly falling back asleep.

In the gentle warmth of the sunlight, you drift in and out of consciousness, dozing softly. However, the abrupt sound of knuckles rapping on hardwood startles you awake, jolting you back to the realm of awareness.

“Levi?” you hear someone call from the other room, accompanied by the sound of the front door pushing open.

You quickly rise, suddenly wide awake. Peeking your head out of the bedroom, you cautiously greet the guest. “H-hello? Who’s there?”

Startled by your unexpected presence, the blonde man's jaw drops and his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. His sun-kissed skin and scales the shade of rushing water, along with his well-built physique and adorned with thick gold jewelry, make for an impressive sight. He seems taken aback by your appearance, stuck still in the center of the main room.

Taking a moment to gather your thoughts, you greet him again, trying to maintain a calm demeanor. "Hello, I'm sorry if I startled you. Is there something I can help you with?"

“Hello! Forgive me, I didn't really believe it when Hange told me about you.” Erwin greets you with a charming smile. “Apologies for entering unannounced.”

“No worries, it’s quite alright.” You feel a tinge of self-consciousness, realizing that your appearance might be disheveled after waking up. Nevertheless, you try to maintain a composed demeanor.

Based on the information you gathered from Levi’s vague descriptions, you hazard a guess. “You must be Erwin?” you inquire, hoping your assumption is correct.

“Yes, It's great to meet you,” he confirms. “It's been a long time since I've met a human.”

“It’s great to meet you too, Erwin,” you reply, relieved that your guess was correct. You can’t help but be intrigued by his comment about it being a long time since he met a human. “Oh! You're a guest! I should offer you a drink!”

You find yourself momentarily flustered, realizing you’re unfamiliar with the kitchen layout beyond the few plates used during breakfast. However, before you can voice your confusion, Erwin comes to your rescue.

“I can teach you how to make tea the way Levi likes,” he offers. “It’s the least I can do. I heard from the grapevine that you saved my friend’s life.”

Grateful for his willingness to help and touched by his gratitude, you nod appreciatively. “That would be wonderful.” Staring at the wall of cupboards, you quickly realize that you don't know where anything is beside the few plates you'd used during breakfast.

You follow Erwin into the kitchen, observing his movements as he retrieves a shiny metal kettle from a shelf above the stove. He fills it with water from the pump before skillfully rekindling the fire in the stove.

Your attention is momentarily drawn to the fact that Erwin has only one arm, but you quickly remind yourself to maintain eye contact, focusing on his face rather than staring.

Erwin reaches up to the top right cupboard and retrieves a small metal tin, extending it toward you. You accept it eagerly, feeling a sense of anticipation. Opening the tin, the rich aroma of dried tea leaves wafts up, enveloping your senses with an earthy fragrance.

As you take in the scent of the tea leaves, you can't help but voice your curiosity to Erwin. "Why doesn't Levi take any of this with him?" you inquire, gesturing to the kitchen and the comforts it offers.

Erwin's expression turns grim, and he takes a moment to gather his thoughts before responding. "I've always had the thought that Levi's winters are a form of self-punishment," he explains. "That he isolates himself away from all of life's pleasures out of a sense of guilt, whether he knows it or not. I'm not sure if he told you about-” Lips thinning, Erwin's words trail off.

His words strike a chord, and you can't help but feel a mix of empathy and concern for Levi. It seems there's more to his solitary nature during the winters than meets the eye.

As you reflect on Levi's austere living conditions during the winter, with his bare little cave and untouched books, you realize that he could have brought some form of entertainment or additional comforts with him. However, as Erwin's explanation resonates with you, you find yourself agreeing with his assessment. "That makes sense," you acknowledge, understanding that Levi's self-imposed isolation may stem from a deeper sense of guilt and self-punishment. “And he did tell me about.. what happened.”

It's a bittersweet realization, as you recognize the sacrifices Levi makes, but it also fuels your desire to bring him moments of joy and comfort during his winters, even if in small ways.

“I hope that things will be different from now on,” Erwin hums in response. The kettle whistles loudly, blowing out a strong billow of steam with a sharp sound. Moving the kettle to the side, Erwin quickly shows you where Levi keeps a surprisingly large collection of ceramic teacups.

“They will be,” you affirm confidently. Erwin’s wide smile in response reflects his shared optimism.

“Levi likes two scoops of the leaves,” Erwin tells you, as he adds the measured amount into the kettle. As he prepares the tea, you can’t help but notice the stump of his right arm, a visible reminder of past struggles and sacrifices. “Let them steep for two minutes before pouring it into the cups through the filter. He has sugar, but he doesn't use it.”

While he teaches you, his ocean blue eyes flick between his work and your face, catching your wandering gaze. Erwin’s perceptive nature picks up on your curiosity, and he addresses it with wisdom and openness. “You can ask,” he says, his voice carrying a tone of understanding. “I promise that I won’t be offended.”

Taking a moment to gather your thoughts, you appreciate his openness and decide to inquire respectfully, “What happened to your arm, if you don’t mind me asking?”

As Erwin slides over to the table, settling in a curled-up position next to the hard wood surface, you join him, holding your cup of tea. His response to your question takes a surprising turn, as he shares a peculiar fact.

“Did you know that felines are actually toxic?” Erwin begins, his voice filled with intrigue. “Their saliva contains a bacteria that infects birds and mice, usually causing their death.”

You find yourself momentarily taken aback by the unexpected shift in conversation. “And you’re telling me this why?” you ask in confusion.

Erwin maintains his calm demeanor as he explains further, shedding light on the matter. “In much the same way, there are some creatures whose saliva can actually halt our natural healing capabilities,” he elaborates. “It’s as if they are our natural opposites, counteracting our ability to heal.”

Worry suddenly seizes your heart at the thought of Levi possibly being affected by creatures with that healing-inhibiting saliva. He's out there, hunting WildOnes right now. He may be strong and experienced, but the danger strikes fear dead in your heart.

Erwin seems to catch your distress, as he swiftly reassures you, his voice soothing. “Don’t worry,” he says calmly, trying to alleviate your fears. “The creatures I mentioned, despite their saliva hindering our healing, are actually a sentient species, much like us. They’re quite nice, and we even engage in trade with them occasionally. I’ve only encountered one of them who was Wild.”

Erwin’s words bring a sense of relief, as you realize that these creatures are not a direct threat to Levi or others. You take a deep breath, feeling a renewed sense of tranquility as you continue to enjoy your cup of tea in Erwin’s presence.

“This is good,” you remark, taking another sip of the aromatic brew. “Though it’s maybe a bit too bitter.”

Erwin’s smile widens, acknowledging your comment. “I’m sure Levi will be pleased when you make it for him,” he remarks playfully. “Although, he’ll probably find something to complain about, saying you made it wrong no matter what.”

A soft laugh escapes your lips, the sound carrying a warmth of familiarity. “Yeah, he will,” you agree, a fondness evident in your voice. “Levi mentioned that you've wanted to reach out to nearby humans.”

“Yes,” Erwin says. “He's fought me on it so many times over the years that I've more or less given up on the thought. Perhaps, now that you're here, things have changed.”

“I think it's a bad idea,” you tell him honestly. Surprise floods his face as you explain the reason you first found yourself in The Maw. “My village is corrupt. The village heads are killing anyone too curious and blaming it on the magical creatures in The Maw. They wouldn't welcome any trade earnestly.”

Erwin’s expression shifts to one of concern as he absorbs the gravity of the situation. “They would probably just take advantage of us?” he asks, seeking confirmation.

“They absolutely would,” you affirm resolutely. “The village heads are ruthless, and they have shown no regard for innocent lives. Children. They mostly kill children. We can’t just stand by. We have to do something.”

Your words convey a sense of urgency and determination, compelling Erwin to consider the dire circumstances and the need for action. He nods, his eyes reflecting a shared resolve.

“You’re right,” Erwin agrees, his voice filled with determination. “We cannot allow such injustice to continue.” He thinks quickly, you can clearly see the gears turning behind his eyes. “However, I'm not sure it would be a good idea for us to reach out and try to fix the situation. From what you've said, they'd probably only see it as an attack.”

“I’ll discuss it with some of the others,” Erwin continues, his voice thoughtful, “but I think the best we’ll be able to do is increase patrols in the area.”

As Erwin pauses, you seize the opportunity to share your idea. The determination in your voice catches his attention. “About that, I think I have an idea,” you assert, drawing his curiosity.

Erwin leans in, attentive to hear your suggestion. “Please, go on. I’m eager to hear what you have in mind.”

Encouraged by his willingness to listen, you begin to outline your idea, hoping that together you can devise a plan that addresses the corruption, protects the innocent, and brings about the justice that is desperately needed.

After Erwin leaves, you decide to wander and try to find your way to the library. As you wander through the library, the shelves towering with books on various subjects, you come across an intriguing sight. An old, greyish-brown Naga catches your attention. His age is evident in his worn scales and wise eyes. Despite his age, he exudes a jovial and approachable aura.

Next to him, you spot Armin, the familiar face bringing a sense of comfort. He seems deeply engrossed in a book, his mind absorbed in the pages before him.

Curiosity piqued, you approach the pair, a friendly smile gracing your lips. "Hello there," you greet them. "Mind if I join you?"

The older Naga, who introduces himself as Pixis, chuckles warmly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Of course, my dear. You're more than welcome." His voice carries a soothing tone, inviting you to delve into the world of books.

Armin glances up from his book, his expression lighting up with recognition. "Oh, it's great to see you again," he says, offering a friendly nod. "Feel free to browse through the shelves. If you have any questions or need recommendations, I'll be happy to help."

Grateful for their welcoming presence, you immerse yourself in the library's vast collection. Lost in the pages and surrounded by the accumulated knowledge of countless authors, you relish the tranquility and the opportunity to expand your horizons. Time seems to slip away as you explore the diverse subjects and engage in enlightening conversations with Pixis and Armin, absorbing their insights and perspectives.

As the hours pass, you leave the library with your eyes burning. Continuing your wanderings, the setting sun casts a warm glow upon the rolling grass fields. The tranquil beauty of the evening fills the air, soothing your senses after the hours spent immersed in books.

Passing by a small fenced area, you recognize it as Miche’s home based on Levi’s vague description. The enclosure holds a handful of rabbits, their soft fur catching the golden light as they hop around and nibble on the grass. It’s a peaceful scene, adding a touch of serenity to the surrounding landscape.

Nearby, you spot the Braus’s home, a large dwelling situated at the entrance of the meadow. The presence of towering trees creates a protective canopy, lending a sense of privacy and seclusion. As you approach, the joyful chaos of children’s laughter and playful squabbles fills the air. The Braus family has truly embraced the spirit of adoption, with a diverse mix of children—some Naga, others adorned with feathers or covered in fur—creating a vibrant tapestry of life.

You find Sasha out back, engrossed in her archery practice. The soft thunk of her arrows colliding with the distant target guides you towards the scene. As you approach, she pauses and turns towards you, wearing a curious expression. Calling out your name, she greets you with surprise. “Didn’t expect to see you again so soon!”

Waving shyly, you return her greeting. “Hi Sasha. I just wanted to apologize for yesterday, for making you sick-”

She interrupts you with a dismissive laugh, waving her hand. “Oh, don’t worry about that. I enjoy trying new foods, even if they taste strange. I’ll eat just about anything. It was my own fault.”

You breathe a sigh of relief, grateful for Sasha’s easygoing nature and her understanding response. Gathering your courage, you cautiously express your request. “And your family stopped by this morning and dropped off a chair. That was so kind of you… I’d hate to be a bother, but I wanted to ask you a favor.”

Sasha rests her bow on a portion of her tail, looking curious. “What is it? I’ll be happy to help if I can.”

Feeling a mix of nervousness and determination, you take a deep breath and share your request. “I want you to teach me how to hunt.”

To your utter surprise, Sasha eagerly responds to your request. Her eyes light up, and a wide grin spreads across her face. She practically bounces with excitement. "Teach you how to hunt? That sounds amazing! I'd be more than happy to show you the ropes!"

Her enthusiasm is contagious, and you find yourself growing more excited about the idea. It seems that she's more than willing to take you under her wing.

Filled with determination, you’re ready to embrace the challenges ahead, working towards being an indispensable member of the community while supporting Levi in any way you can.

#levi ackerman #naga!levi #levi x reader #levi/reader #levi ackerman x reader #tw; snakes

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ymiwritesstuff · 1 year

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A Heart of Gold

Here is the Kiryu fic!! It came out a bit differently than I originally intended but you know what that's fine lol. I also found getting his personality right a bit challenging but I hope I at least somewhat managed to capture his vibe!! Please enjoy!

Yakuza Kiwami 2

Kazuma Kiryu x Reader

Summary: A year has passed, and the dark memories remain, but waking up next to him has never felt so right.

Notes: Takes place before the events of the game, vague spoilers for Kiwami 1 (nothing specific, just mentions of loss etc), Fluff, Suggestive themes towards the end!

Also posted on AO3!

The soft, comforting sheets shifted below you as you moved, your limbs moving on instinct to bless you with the sensation of a good morning's stretch. Your bare feet stuck out from under the blanket and your mouth opened wide for a yawn. It had been a good night, the best in a while, as the relief of knowing that you wouldn’t have to do anything of importance the next day melted all your tension away. And it was even better when you woke up next to him.

The right side of the bed was rarely empty, as life had gotten relatively normal recently. Though the events that occurred a year ago still lingered in the air and in the minds of those involved, you were sure everyone appreciated the tranquility that followed. Especially him.

You slowly turned to him and smiled to yourself softly. There he was, eyes closed, the usual creases between his eyebrows gone, and his mouth slightly agape as he breathed. You had only recently started seeing him like this, sleeping so soundly without worry. It brought you some peace of mind. After all that had happened, after everything he had lost, he deserved it.

No matter how many times you woke up next to him, you were always entranced by his features, especially when he looked so at peace like this. You were certain that the nightmares still haunted him, and they probably would continue doing so for years to come, but the sight of him sleeping next to you in serenity at least told you that he felt safe enough to let his guard down with you. That alone made you the happiest person in Japan.

His face was so enticing, you couldn’t help but place your hand on his cheek and continue looking at him fondly. Kiryu barely shifted at your action, too absorbed in his dream. Your eyes ran over the details of his handsome face. He looked as stoic as ever, save for the tiniest twitch of his eyebrows every now and then. His breathing was steady and quiet, and thin strands of dark hair kissed his forehead. You smiled to yourself once again.

He was quite adorable.

Caressing your thumb along his cheek, you spoke gently: “Kazuma.” No response.

You withheld a laugh. In a way, it felt rude to wake him up from his peaceful slumber, but you also wanted to see his dark eyes looking at you with the adoration you had come to love almost as much as the man himself. So you tried again:

“Kazumaa…” You drawled at him again, adding some melody to your quiet voice. His closed eyes twitched slightly, but they did not yet open. You pouted and moved closer, curling some of your fingers behind his neck, the tips making contact with the short strands of his hair.

You found yourself smiling more as you heard him groan softly, finally responding to your voice. He shifted, readjusting his position slightly, but his eyes remained closed. In fact, you thought you noticed him squeezing them shut even further as he sunk deeper into the pillow.

Instinctively, though rather lazily, Kiryu put one of his strong arms around you in a way you were familiar with. It gave you the opportunity to shuffle even closer to him, to the point where your noses were almost touching.

It felt special to have him so close to you. You could see how he relaxed his otherwise tense muscles became around you, and how your presence brought him the comfort he most certainly needed. He was always on edge, for reasons that had become clear to you over time, and had to maintain that Dragon of Dojima spirit he had become so renowned for. It was a part of him, yes, but you had always felt like perhaps he never expected or asked for such a title.

To you, however, he was just Kazuma Kiryu. A man with a heart of gold that you’d do anything for. If only he knew how lucky you felt.

Fueled by your thoughts of affection, you pressed your lips to his in a kiss so chaste and faint, it left you wondering if you should have been more daring with it as when you went to pull away, you already missed his lips.

Kiryu’s hold on you tightened, and all doubt in your mind of him still being asleep got washed away when he rolled onto his back, effortlessly laying you on his chest. His arms were securely wrapped around your form and finally, his eyes fluttered open. Your hands quickly found his face again.

“Good morning, handsome.”

Kiryu’s lips twitched slightly upward at your greeting, one of his hands sliding to the small of your back. “Good morning.”

God, you loved that deep voice of his, even more so when the raspiness of the morning accompanied it. You couldn’t resist the urge to kiss him again, and he returned it in the way you were used to.

Pressing your ear against his chest, you listened to his steady heartbeat and traced his arm and shoulder with your digits. His gentle hand rubbed your back in the most comforting way.

“How did you sleep?” You asked. It had become somewhat of a habit of yours, especially after the times his sleep was plagued by nightmares. He rarely told you about them, but you always knew.

“Good. I slept good,” he replied, briefly glancing at the time and quirking one of his eyebrows. “Don’t you have work today?”

You shook your head against his chest before lifting it up to meet his warm gaze with your own. “I have the day off,” you announced, to which Kiryu let the faintest chuckle of what to you sounded almost like relief.

“That’s good to hear.” His brown eyes softened as he looked at you, his comforting touch at your back almost lulling you back to sleep. You took in the kind glow in his irises, wondering how they could ever be used to scare street thugs away. You of course had seen how he used his stern scowl to fend off attackers, and it made you appreciate moments like these even more.

“We can do anything we want, Kazuma,” you said with a small giggle, bringing your hands to his perfectly sculpted shoulders, and thinking of all the possible things you could spend the day doing.

Kiryu’s eyes wandered to the door at the other end of the room, eyebrows frowning the tiniest amount as if he were buried in his thoughts for a brief moment. “Do you think…” He began, quickly drifting his eyes towards you again. “...Haruka is still asleep?”

Oh?

Your eyes widened slightly at his somewhat out-of-the-blue question and the twinge of warmth on his face told you more than words ever could. That was quite bold, for him anyway.

With a small grin, you turned your head towards the door, his question and the implications behind it echoing in your head loudly. You giggled to yourself as your thoughts traveled farther than you should have allowed them to. With a playful sparkle in your eyes, you looked at him as you dawned on an idea.

“Shower?”

Kiryu looked at you for a moment, seemingly surprised at your proposal, but his expression quickly melted, and he gave you a firm nod, before lifting the blanket off the both of you. Your hands lingered on his chest as you raised yourself from the comfort it had given you.

As you got up, Kiryu held your hand, as he so often did. It was one of those little habits of his own. And you adored it. He was not the best with his words when it came to affection, but the small physical things he did told you all you needed to know. He held your hand when you walked, played with your hair when you cuddled, had his protective arms around you when you cried, and held you close when you slept.

All of that and more was the reason you loved him so.

Whilst he led you to the bathroom by your hand, your eyes fixated on his irezumi that beautifully adorned his back. The way the ink twisted and distorted with the flow of his muscles as he walked was almost hypnotizing, it was impossible to look away. The dragon that watched his back was stunning, the intricate details always blew you away and pulled you back in. And the fact that such fierce imagery was carried by the most kind-hearted and loving man you had ever met gave it an all-new meaning in your mind.

You could stare at it for hours.

Kiryu flinched ever so slightly when he felt your hand on his back, and as he turned to you at speeds fueled by sudden surprise, you immediately retreated your hand and gave him an apologetic look.

“Sorry.” You hadn’t meant to startle him in the slightest, you had just been so absorbed in your thoughts that you let your muscles move on their own. “It’s just… So beautiful,” you concluded, keeping your eyes on the image at his back.

Kiryu let out a brief chuckle, your words sticking to him like tar. It was not the first time you had expressed your adoration for his irezumi, but every time, he felt a tingle in his core.

“It’s not the only beautiful thing here.”

You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh at his reply. It was very… Him. Traditional, maybe a little cheesy, but oh so endearing. You never got tired of it.

With warmth on your cheeks, you spoke:

“Very smooth, Kaz,” you teased and your free hand found his chest again. “You’re getting better at this.”

Kiryu huffed and rolled his eyes softly, chiding himself for forgetting how much you enjoyed toying with him like this. Despite his outward reaction though, he found it charming.

“Thank you for your input.” The sarcasm and humor in his voice weren’t lost on you, and you found yourself laughing once more as he opened the bathroom door. Though you couldn’t see it, he was smiling as well, thanks to the pleasant sound that was your laughter.

His hand finally left yours as you closed the door behind you, eager to start the day in the right way with him. Probable ulterior motives aside, you really did only crave a shower, but you were glad that he was willing to join you.

You walked up to him again, eyes locking with his. Kiryu held onto your waist, while your hands were on his broad shoulders. No words were exchanged, nor did they need to. You could spend hours just looking into his eyes that had seen so much. Too much, even.

The pain was not fully gone, you surmised, and you didn’t expect it to be so for a long time. You were however proud of how far he had come. He had lost so much, but he pulled himself up and tried to make things right for Haruka and you despite everything. It was admirable, but you also wanted him to know that you were willing to share some of that burden with him.

You were sure he knew this and saw it in your efforts. He was an observant man, after all.

Kiryu loosened his hold and glanced at the shower behind him. “Shall we?” You smiled and nodded.

Before he had time to do anything else though, you brought your lips to his ear, sending shivers down his spine with your whispers:

“Remember Kazuma,” your fingers lightly traced the muscles on his shoulders and neck.

“We have time.”

Support me on ko-fi!❤️

#yakuza #yakuza imagines #yakuza x reader #kazuma kiryu #kiryu kazuma #yakuza kazuma kiryu #kiryu x reader #kazuma kiryu x reader #kazuma kiryu imagines #kiryu x you #reader insert #fluff #yakuza kiwami 2 #ryu ga gotoku #ryu ga gotoku kiwami 2

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2000sanimeop · 9 days

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I made myself an Astos playlist for fun last week and was compelled to make cover art for it, so here's that!

Why Quiet Quitting? What is Stranger of Paradise about if not a dark elf quiet quitting their job for XXXXX years?

✧ Step into my twisted mind (for the tracklist/notes) ✧

✧ 9 to 5 ✧

Dolly Parton

They just use your mind / And they never give you credit

It's enough to drive you crazy if you let it

Note: One of my favorite Stranger of Paradise pastimes is thinking about Lufenia's TERRIBLE business practices. This was the last track added to the playlist.

✧ Never Recover ✧

The Cardigans

With a hero in the past / You hang on to history

Such a loss will always last / And there's no recovery

Note: The Cardigans have so much more to offer beyond Lovefool and the U.S. Gran Turismo 2 opening. A good flavor of upbeat misery.

✧ Everyday Is The Worst Day Of My Life ✧

The Lemon Twigs

Everyday is the worst day of my life

The worst day of my life

Note: I had originally considered using They Don't Know How to Fall In Place (mostly on account of being more of a song and less of a shitpost) but this was too funny not to use. This is the only song on this playlist that isn't 20+ years old. Sidenote: this band capitalizes all of the prepositions/articles in their song titles, like a middle schooler titling an essay.

✧ The Good Life ✧

Weezer

I should have no feeling / 'Cause feeling is pain

As everything I need is denied me

And everything I want is taken away from me

Note: My most ambivalent selection! Mostly due to preconceived notions on what I thought the vibes of this playlist would be. Happy to be incorrect and it's funnier to have Weezer and Brand New here than on Jack's list (I'd sooner give Jack The Sweater Song, anyway).

✧ Onde Sensuelle ✧

-M-

Mais comment t'atteindre? Onde sensuelle

Toi qui me donnes des ailes

Pourrais-je te rendre un jour éternelle

Pour nous lier jusqu'au ciel

How could I reach you? Sensual wave

You who lend me wings?

Will I manage one day to make you eternal

And bind us toward the skies?

Note: An entirely vibes-based selection! 💜 Auto-translated, sssorry!

✧ Positive Contact ✧

Deltron 3030

Mad creator, savage nature / World Wide Web, the ebb and flow

Light-years from watchful eyes while my thoughts provide

Objectives to ostracize pompous prophecies

Note: Upon actually committing to making this playlist, I hoped to god there'd be a Deltron track I could use, because it would be so funny for Astos. I would've first heard this album not long after the 2008 reissue. The transition between this and Positive Contact feels real good.

✧ Okay, I Believe You, But My Tommy Gun Don't ✧

Brand New

This is the grace only we can bestow

This is the price you pay for loss of control

This is the break in the bend / This is the closest of calls

This is the reason you're alone / This is the rise and the fall!

Note: I actually switched this between playlists a couple of times before settling with Astos, but idk what I was thinking otherwise with lines like My tongue's the only muscle that works harder than my heart, lol. I think it was due to Jack's playlist feeling a little too Soft, at the time; past-me was incorrect, of course.

✧ It's Too Late ✧

Carole King

But it's too late, baby, now it's too late

Though we really did try to make it

Somethin' inside has died / And I can't hide it

I just can't fake it

Note: The quintessential breakup song!

✧ Stardust ✧

Billy Ward and his Dominoes

But that was long ago

And now my consolation / Is in the stardust of a song

Note: this is the first song I added to this playlist, and I always had it right at the end. something about having a bittersweet oldie felt like a nice echo of My Way. I would've first heard this via the Goodfellas soundtrack, which I wholeheartedly recommend.

Thanks for looking at whatever this is! While you're here, please be sure to check out @corvuscorona's excellent Astos playlist: SHADOW MONSTER.

#i usually listen to whole albums/discographies but this was fun! :] sorry for my boomer taste #stranger of paradise #my art #there's a jack playlist too but art is still in-progress so TBD

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iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia · 9 days

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hello! im reasonably new to your account and i just saw that you have an arcana playlist (love the idea of that) and i dont know if you still take suggestions for the playlist, but in case you do, i have a few songs that remind me of characters (aka just Muriel, like literally just him) that might be of use :)

On the Mountain Tall - the Oh Hellos, not only does the name and the general vibe of the song fit him but there are a few lyrics in it like "I know you want me to be afraid, I know you want me to love you" "Up out of the grave of an angry ghost, Firing bricks from broken canon and prose, To build a wall so high it reaches the heavens in the sky" "Still you beat your drums, Raising holy war with every strum, Shouting down the quiet kingdom come, Brushing at your fingers, hoping you'll come around" that honestly just fit very very well

How to Disappear Completely - Radiohead cus its sad as fuck. "I'm not here, This isn't happening, I'm not here, I'm not here, In a little while, I'll be gone, The moment's already passed, Yeah, it's gone", if thats not a man dissociating through traumatic expiriences i dont know what is. The song keeps repeating "im not here", and seeing how Muriel chose to have a curse that makes people forget him, it is very fitting

Trapdoor - Twenty One Pilots, i have had an arcana obsession since like? 2019? when i was still a massive fan of this band, and this song always reminded me of muriel. "Take me out and finish this waste of a life, Everyone one gather around for a show, Watch as this man disappears as we know, Do me a favor and try to ignore, When you watch him fall through a blatant trapdoor, 'Cause nobody know his life (i always thought it was "he's alive")", it gives the vibes of how the people of vesuvia did Not Give A Shit About him. They just thought hed willingly murder so many people, nobody saw the literal chains he was stuck in and thought "hmm maybe hes being forced to do this"

No Suprises - Radiohead, it reminds me of how Muriel pulled away from all society after he fled from the colosseum. It reminds me of how he was so scared and so ashamed to interact with people, how he just wanted some silent and rest after all the horrible things he went though, not just in the colosseum but his entire youth. "You look so tired, unhappy. Bring down the government, They don't, they don't speak for us. I'll take a quiet life, A handshake of carbon monoxide, No alarms and no surprises, No alarms and no surprises, No alarms and no surprises, Silent, Silent", to me the song always feels like it needs to be sung while sobbing.

Sleep - My Chemical Romance, i 100% believe Muriel has so many nightmares, i mean its even shown in his route once. A symptom of ptsd is night terrors, and seeing what the guy has lived through theres no way he goes to sleep normally. I think this song catches the vibe of this pretty well.

PTSD - Joost, literally just a (dutch) song about ptsd. its a massive vibe and cus i hc that Muriel has ptsd i thought it be fitting

Me? Having massive brainrot abt Muriel? perhaps...

i hope this can be useful for your playlist!! (also if youd like i can give more of this, it is very fun to do lol)

@canofpeaches00000 woah, these are all awesome suggestions! I really appreciate how you broke down the lyrics and added context to them too, it doubled my capacity to enjoy them! ^.^

I've added them to the playlist and I'm putting them on the tag, thank you for all the recommendations friend! :D

#ask arcana brainrot #arcana brainrot playlist #the arcana #the arcana headcanons #the arcana hc #the arcana game #muriel of the kokhuri #muriel the arcana

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pebblysand · 2 months

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WELCOME BACK TO THE PAGE PALS PROJECT! AS A REMINDER, THE "PAGE PALS" PROJECT IS A GROUP RE-READ OF CASTLES. FOR MORE INFORMATION, PLEASE READ THIS POST HERE.

THIS WEEK, WE'RE DOING CHAPTER 2. BELOW, YOU'LL FIND MY THOUGHTS AS A CONVERSATION STARTER. FEEL FREE TO SEND IN ASKS IF YOU HAVE ANY QUESTIONS/THOUGHTS, AND TO JOIN OUR DISCORD SERVER FOR FURTHER DISCUSSION.

HANDY LINKS/INFO:

chapter: ii. out of ash (ashes twirl)

wordcount: 10, 476

playlist: notes here

castles FAQ: here

g e n e r a l t h o u g h t s:

for a very long time, this chapter used to be my favourite, and i still hold it in very high regard. i don't know what it is about it, it just feels like ✨vibes✨. it's both incredibly funny at times, and incredibly sad, and i feel like it really exhibits that awkward post-war happy/sad balance that is so important to castles. even if it's no longer my favourite cause i'm not quite sure which is my favourite anymore, i still think chapter 2 has some of my best writing in this fic. i'll go through a few chosen bits below but i feel like it has that general sense of messiness and melancholy that i really like in the early days of this story.

just like with chapter 1, you might notice a few changes i've made along the way, depending on when you read it last. again, i don't think it's anything major but if you do notice, you'll see that i didn't actually delete anything, just moved things around a bit. i think it flows better that way. i also added some stuff - i'm curious to see if you'll spot it. let me know!

having said that, omg, i'd forgot how SLOW the pacing is in this chapter. don't get me wrong, i think it needs to be slow for the purposes of telling the story, but it's very much like: this is them leaving the hotel, this is them having breakfast, this is them testifying - it is very step by step lol. i worry about my pacing in the later chapters, sometimes, but i clearly forgot about this one lol.

g i n n y:

Generally, reading this just this morning, I couldn't help but feel this raw sense of panic in Ginny, throughout this chapter. I think obviously, it's something that only really makes sense and becomes apparent on re-read, but there's this way you really feel how fucking terrified she is that Harry will find out. I hate to say this, but the way she acts with him, that summer, is almost reminiscent of her "relationship" with Amycus, actually. She is watching his every move, everything he says, everything she says, trying to make sure he doesn't find out. And, I don't think the pretending and the lying comes easy to her, I think it basically tears her apart, but those are skills that she "learnt" with Amycus. Being cued into his every emotion, expertly toying that line between saying too much and too little. She is almost manipulating him, into thinking they have this connection, and that them not talking is the Right thing for them, and it's not really her fault, it's how fear has wired her to function, but I find it chilling.

h i g h l i g h t s:

A year later, roses bloom once again in the gardens of Ottery St Catchpole and Harry’s still holding her. Some things in life never change, he muses, although, of course, everything else has changed. They’ve both fought in a war that should never have been theirs and one of her brothers has died, leaving the start of the summer to mend itself without them, trapped in a combative attempt to shovel the little hope it has left down their throats. When Harry caresses Ginny’s skin, the summer of ‘98, she’s naked next to him, the both of them tucked in her small, twin bed at The Burrow. They try to be quiet (always, despite the silencing charms they cast) but they each have a side, now, an oddly domestic habit, and after they have sex, Harry often lies with her body wrapped around him, so close that he’s never quite sure where her limbs start and where his end. Her bed’s pushed up against her window - along the skin of his left arm, he feels the morning dew build as the night chill leaves the air; it trickles down the single-glazed glass. They watch the sun rise together - early mornings and milky skies.

I LOVE THIS PARAGRAPH SO MUCH. idk, jokes aside, i think it's one of my favourite things i've ever written. there's a flow to it i really like and i adore the end of "early mornings and milky skies". and i think it's the beginning of this motif that sort of comes back in chapter 17 where the two of them are always touching, comfortable in bed. the chill of early summer mornings and OH I LOVE IT.

'I'm not a Healer, Harry.'

so, this is actually a line i added in reaction to a) the people in my comments being mad that ginny wasn't weeding secrets out of harry and that being "ooc", and b) a conversation i later had with @btelling. i think there's this misconception in fandom about ginny being a "healer". this idea that she's almost harry's therapist after the war, the only one that can get him talking, etc. and i think firstly, there's very little evidence of that in canon. ginny asks for explanations, often, but she very rarely ever gets them. and secondly, there's this general view of women as healers in general, tending to "sick" men and making them better, which i don't particularly enjoy. so, i guess that was me reacting to all of this.

They barely swallow any food. For the other two’s sakes, Harry tries to hide the knot in his stomach, can tell that Hermione is anxious enough for the three of them - she keeps tapping an annoying rhythm against the table with the tips of her fingers, doesn’t even seem to realise she’s doing it. Her make-up is minimal, the varnish on her nails a plain but shiny transparent. His mind drifts back to Ginny again, how she always painted her nails in bright colours in school, reds and oranges, and golds, performed complicated charm work on them so that it would stick. ‘If I don’t, it always chips with Quidditch.’

i noticed this on a previous re-read but, i don't think i wrote this intentionally but i love the way harry is so infatuated with ginny in this. like, i think this is one of the moments where the fact that he totally idealises her and is very teenage-infatuated-crazy-about-a-girl really shines through. he literally looks at hermione's nails and is like: oh and by the way GINNY does her nails like this. it's so silly but it really shows how obsessed he is with her, but also how shallow it kind of is. he thinks it's deep, because when you're that age you think you're so deep, but it's actually not.

‘When we get there, it’ll be like the craziest circus you’ve ever been to,’ he speaks, quick, before he runs out of words. There is an urgency to the things that he needs to tell them both, ones that they don’t necessarily want to hear. ‘It’ll be dozens and dozens of people standing in a crowd, clapping and screaming, and wanting a piece of you. They’ll want to thank you, insult you, ask you questions, tell you personal stuff about themselves. They don’t mean anything bad by it, they just don’t really realise you’re a person. The press will be there, too, and they will be flashing their cameras just about five inches from your face to try and get a good shot,’ he adds, raising his hand close to his own cheek, showing them the distance. ‘They’ll want to touch you, have you sign stuff, and they’ll keep talking at you from the moment you step out of that fireplace to the moment you get into the lift. We’ll have an escort of Aurors to try and hold them back but I honestly doubt that they’ll be able to do much. It’ll feel like you’re in the longest tunnel you’ve ever been through and you can’t see the exit. At least, wear that scarf over your head, it’ll hide your face and your eyes from the cameras, protect you a bit. Ron, you can use the hood at the back of your robes.’

i think honestly, this is one of my favourite harry moments in the whole fic. i can't possibly tell you how much time i spent on this paragraph, back then. i see it as one of those post-war moments where harry actually does start growing into his own skin and also where you start being faced with the reality of the post-war world. there's this sort of "bubble," i think, throughout chapters 1&2 where they're all very removed from the outside and inside their little burrow bubble, and that obviously bursts big time, with the commission. there's something very brutal about the way harry speaks that day, and i think it really fits.

‘Why were we never kids?’

ah, another castles classic line people quote all the time. yuuup. 💔

That evening, the both of them eat Pad Thai takeaway and sit on the floor in front of the muted hotel telly. They laugh at funny Hogwarts stories of Romilda Vane and crazy things that Harry remembers Luna saying. They drain a few cans of bitter and wait for Ron to come home.

i've always loved this moment loads because it's 1) harry-and-hermione-my-babies!!!! but also 2) it has these trio-codependency vibes that are very present in the early chapters of feeling lost when the three of them aren't together. the way they "wait for Ron to come home" breaks my little heart for them.

Love in its million different forms, the way Dumbledore preached it. Harry loves Hermione the way he loves Ron, like the boy who introduced him to chocolate frogs and the girl who cried in the loo and faced a troll.

again, trio vibes. love, love, love.

l a s t l y:

okay, so i love, love, love the rest of this chapter but also i'm having a hard time articulating precise thoughts so i'll leave it at that for now. please do not hesitate to send me asks if there's anything else you'd like me to comment on, though. very excited to hear your thoughts.

#castles #chapter 2

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another-lost-mc · 8 months

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🌌 for all the OCs? (Just sending one emoji since I’m asking for all the OCs 😅)

Weekend Event: OC Emoji Asks

🌌 MILKY WAY - what was the inspiration behind your oc? what was the first thing you decided about them?

Karasu: I wanted a LI that had some of the geeky qualities that Levi has without all the self-flagellation and pity parties. also the lowkey incel vibes he sometimes gives off I thought that there must be demons comfortable developing/using computers if they have the D.D.D. and AI, and then I remembered the KARASU AI, and it kind of occured to me—what if I make Karasu actually a crow demon and not just a mascot? That's basically how that started. His physical appearance was meant to incorporate some more monstrous qualities to help set him apart even more.

Azra: The Fall is a popular backdrop for a lot of the game's parties/dances and events. I was mostly inspired by this Lucifer Devilgram to flesh him out as an antagonist-type character that the demon brothers could butt heads with over MC.

In the Devilgram, Lucifer obviously wins that wager and he goes on to say that basically it bothered him letting other demons have a chance to live with MC and spend time with them like that. In Azra's AU, Lucifer loses the bet which is how Azra ends up living at HoL for a month. (My original headcanon for Azra's appearance was basically Sukuna from JJK, but I changed that when I got the nerve to share his story online. lol)

Zekhan: He's closely linked to Azra so their own stories have some overlap. They're bonded very much like brothers would be, even though they're not related by blood. Zekhan is quiet and serious and collected whereas Azra can be spontenous and sociable and an "act now, think later" type. He's not the kind of demon that creates or likes chaos—he sticks to himself but he's very intelligent and strong and loyal. His character is sort of a blend of Barbatos' quiet confidence and leadership and Satan's intelligence and interests.

Metatron: I wanted an angel OC because I didn't have one and originally, I needed a very friendly angel for Michael to be jealous of. lol Metatron is very curious about humans and I think he craves intimacy but doesn't know how to find it. He hides a lot of his "shameful" desires and self-doubt behind a bubbly and out-going personality. I think he's sort of like a mix of Arcturus (ArTw) and Asmo. He's seen as being cute but not handsome, and he's often described as naive and flirty even though he doesn't mean to be. He has a lot of responsibilities in the Celestial Realm and he's very familiar with bloody history of the three realms, but he has no close friends or loved ones he feels he can turn to when he craves more from his calling.

Dia's unnamed older brother: I'm adding him here since I was thinking about him today. He ticks the monster fucker kink because the game's canon characters are lacking in truly monstrous demonic forms. He's a bit bigger and taller than Diavolo is and is very gruff and not too sociable. His AU reads like a Devildom version of Beauty and the Beast.

#jes.games #my oc: karasu #my oc: azra #my oc: zekhan #my oc: metatron

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ashxketchum · 7 days

Note

Okay for the OTP ask A, D, E, I, N, Z

Very interesting choices, thank you for sending these in!

A - Ships that you currently like a lot. (They don’t have to be OTPs because not everyone has OTPs.) Friendships, pairings, threesomes, etc. are allowed.

When I saw this post and read 'not everyone has OTPs' I laughed and shouted COULDN'T BE ME lol. But currently I'm into TaiyoxMutsumi from Mission Yozakura Family, I was following this manga since it started almost and I'm very excited that the anime is finally airing! I just wish more people were watching it 🥹 I also recently started catching up to The Apothecary Diaries so MaomaoxJinshi is another ship on my mind, And even though Sousou no Frieren has ended, my obsession with StarkxFern is still going strong.

D - A pairing you wish you liked but just can’t.

Do I drop the entire list or I think everyone knows that most of the Tyson, Hilary ships apart from TyHil are my notps. But I'm mostly okay with TyKa or TyRei or HilaryxEmily or HilaryxMao in those if I absolutely have to sorta scenarios, but TysonxTala and HiromixMing-ming are the two ships that I'm just never going to like, no particular reason too lol but they're not the vibes for me.

E - Have you added anything cracky/hilarious to your fandom? If so, what?

HAVE I?? Idk I think other people would have to judge just how crack-y my content is by the normal crack standards 😂 Mimato was considered a crack ship for the longest time in the fandom so I guess a lot of my contributions can be considered crack lol. Though there is one Bleach fanfic I wrote, which was definitely intended as crack, where it's a high school AU and Gin is the school's guidance counsellor and well, he doesn't really take his job as seriously as one would hope 🤣

I - Has Tumblr caused you to stop liking any fandoms, if so, which and why?

VOLTRON. I watched the first two seasons in one sitting almost, and then I came online and met the fandom and I noped out of there pretty quick. It's difficult to explain why tho...like it was an experience for sure and I'm just very glad that the fandom has quieted down now (or maybe I just became much better at blocking things).

N - Name three things you wish you saw more or in your main fandom (or a fandom of choice).

More TyHil.

I'm thinking, maybe......more TyHil.

Listen we just can't go wrong with more TyHil???

Z - Just ramble about something fan-related, go go go! (Prompts optional but encouraged.)

Speaking of TyHil, because whenever am I not I have this perfect hate at first sight sort of meet cute planned for them in my Regency Era AU setting, and I'm hoping that when the new season of Bridgerton rolls around right in the middle of Mayblade, I feel inspired to write something that I can post. Not to give away too much but also wanting to rant about it at the same time, basically Tyson and Hilary and first meet on a train and their interaction isn't very nice. Later they end up travelling on the same ship to some other country in Europe which I haven't decided yet, most likely France and are dragged together for meals and stuff by others. Hilary writes mystery novels under a male pen name and one of the scenes that I've given a lot of thought about is how Tyson badmouths her books over dinner one night, and she ends up defending it to the point where her identity is revealed. By the time they're getting off the ship, Tyson starts to feel guilty about his behaviour and wants to apologise but she keeps getting away, and thus begins the never-ending game of chase.

Send me a letter!

#answered #ask meme

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taeyongtime · 1 year

Text

winter’s warmth

genre: coffeeshop!au | fluff | winter holiday vibes

featuring: NCT’s Taeyong

word count: 4,408 words

a/n: a short reworked old idea before the end of the year lol still alive and kicking! happy holidays and merry christmas to those who celebrate and here’s to a good year ahead ❤️💚

8am, the start of your usual morning lineup.

Prepare today’s daily brew of coffee, set down chairs and wipe the tables clean, arrange pastries on the display… the tasks feel never-ending. But with your coworker’s help (who arrived right when you were sweeping the floor) everything was ready five minutes before 9am. Just in time for him to whip up a drink for himself and the first regular.

“I hope today’s going to be slow,” Johnny mutters under his breath while collecting payment from the business man for his decaf and BLT sandwich to-go. “I don’t know how I’m still up and about making coffee when I only had five hours of sleep last night.”

“In your dreams,” you scoff, tightening your ponytail. “Toss me a marker?”

Adding the finishing touches to the whiteboard by the front register, you nod in satisfaction at the finished listings of the annual winter drinks and return to more disgruntled mutters from Johnny.

“Would anyone order any of the holiday drinks when it’s not even December yet?”

“Well, here’s some advertising for them!” You swivel the whiteboard around, smiling in satisfaction at the neatly written letters for peppermint hot chocolate, eggnog latte, cinnamon nutmeg spiced coffee and a sea-salt caramel mocha (last but not the least on the winter menu).

“I haven’t practiced making the winter drinks yet,” he remarks, “So you’re in charge of those if anyone orders them.”

“Sure.”

Soon after, a young woman enters the cafe and points curiously at the cinnamon nutmeg spiced coffee, asking if she can have the coffee changed to a spiced hot chocolate instead.

—

“You up for that extra drink by the sink?”

Your eyes widen in surprise at the iced vanilla latte sitting by the faucet. “Did you mess up and make an extra?”

“It was ordered along with an iced Americano but my friend forgot to take it. I called him to come get it, but it doesn’t look like he will.”

Handing you the drink, Johnny grins as you take a sip.

“That’s yours now. I’m sure he wouldn’t want to touch your saliva after you drank from that straw.”

“Don’t mind if I do then.”

“Then you also wouldn’t mind closing up right?”

You give him the “ok” and he skirts out of the cafe as quick as lightning. Shaking your head in disapproval at his eagerness to leave, you begin stacking up the chairs onto the tables that he had at least remembered to wipe down before leaving.

Midway through closing, the chime of the silver bells you had made Johnny tie by the front door for festivity catches your attention.

“You idiot, did you forget—”

You close your mouth once you turn around, the figure at the doorway not Johnny. Your hand slips and you wince when the chair leg bangs against your elbow before tumbling down onto the black-and-white tiled floor.

“Sorry,” you utter quickly, picking up the chair and setting it back up. “Can I help you?”

The man standing by the doorway runs a hand through his ash gray hair, eyes shifting before settling on the half empty drink on top of the pastry display.

“It’s nothing,” comes the quiet murmur. “I just thought Johnny would still be here.”

“He left early, but maybe you can come again tomorrow for a drink?”

His eyes flickering towards the fallen chair, he shakes his head and a thoughtful expression creeps onto his face. Reading the silence, you pick up the chair and stack it back onto its rightful place on top of the table.

“Did you forget something here?”

Another shake of his head, and he stuffs his hands into the pockets of his gray coat. This time he turns to leave without another word; only the faint jingle ever indicated someone had stopped by during closing time.

Weirdo.

—

“Can I get an iced Americano?”

Your ears perk up at the familiar voice. Looking up from the register, you recognize the guy who had come in after hours yesterday and offer a wave.

“Hey,” you say with a grin as Johnny rings up his order. “Did you get what you needed from Johnny?”

Said guy points a finger at your elbow instead of answering your question.

“Was that from the chair yesterday?”

You glance at the bandaid on your right elbow and shrug. “Dunno. But I scraped my elbow when I was on my way here.”

“You two know each other?” Johnny butts in, handing you a plastic cup. “Since when?”

“Since yesterday. Is he your friend, Johnny?”

“Me and Taeyong have been friends for quite some time now.”

You introduce yourself before adding two shots of espresso into the empty cup. Cold water follows and the drink is topped with ice and a mint leaf. Taeyong watches the entire process curiously, taken aback when you hand him the drink without a lid.

“Can I get a lid for that?”

You freeze, shaking your head at such a rookie mistake. “Sorry, here you go.”

“Thanks.”

“I usually give lids with drinks,” you begin, attempting to mend the awkward situation. “They’re usually sent out without the risk of spilling.”

He laughs, a soft sound that offsets his initial intimidating aura.

He’s cute.

“Is this your first time here?” you continue, “I don’t think I’ve seen you before.”

“It’s my first time getting a drink from someone other than Johnny.”

He takes a sip of the iced Americano, eyes widening.

“Does it taste bad?” you ask worriedly when you spot the change in expression. “I can make it again if you want.”

“No, it’s… really good. Better than what Johnny makes.”

“I heard that!”

“Oh, thank goodness,” you sigh, tuning out Johnny’s loud complaining as your hands reach for the next order slip. “I thought you were going to throw up because it tastes bad.”

A soft chuckle and your heart flutters at seeing the blooming smile on Taeyong’s chiseled face.

“I’ll… come again,” he murmurs. “For your drink.”

—

December 25th inches closer and closer as the demand for winter drinks heightens, and you find yourself making the winter specials a lot more than the usuals. While you still juggle the regular decafs and lattes along with the peppermint hot chocolate (your favorite winter drink to make), Johnny starts to complain about being stuck with making the sea-salt caramel mocha, claiming that it was his worst and questioning why anyone would choose to add salt to caramel.

“I always add too much salt,” he groans, handing off a hot lemon tea. “Then the customer complains and I have to remake it at least three times before it’s satisfactory.”

“You would know when to stop adding salt if you paid more attention to what you’re doing,” you reply in kind from your spot by the oven. Keeping an eye on the butter croissant inside, you open the oven door after it finishes heating up and place it in a paper bag, handing it to the boy standing next to the girl with lemon tea. “It’s not hard.”

“Do you expect me to count every single granule, Your Highness?”

“Of course not. Just be aware of when you’re putting too much, that’s all.”

“Is Taeyong coming?” you asked casually, hands already reaching for the espresso while awaiting Johnny’s answer.

“I’m not his mother,” Johnny scowls, clearly still peeved at your telling off. “He doesn’t usually tell me when he chooses to stop by.”

Huffing, you prepare the iced Americano anyway and watch the door as the jingling of bells brings in a new wave of customers. None of them Taeyong, you sigh and take over on the register while Johnny refills coffee beans into one of the machines that held today’s brew: French roast. Taeyong had stayed true to his word and stopped by every day, always ordering the same iced Americano and specifying for you to make it for him each time. Even when you were on register, he’d still ask for you because “you make it better than Johnny does”, which pleased you greatly. Not only was Taeyong a regular now, he’d also make small talk while you worked, sometimes even leaving behind chocolates on the counter for you to eat after picking up his drink. Usually there’s enough for you to share, but you never do. Not that Johnny would ask, but it was never a topic of bargain for chocolates.

Especially not for the ones Taeyong would leave behind.

“You’re fond of Taeyong, aren’t you?”

“What, no,” you deny, not understanding where the sudden question had come from. Pulling the order slip from the machine, you glance over the customer’s order and hold back a snicker. “One large sea-salt caramel mocha, Johnny, let’s go.”

“Not again,” Johnny grumbles. “You make this one.”

“Sure thing. Watch how the professional does it.”

“And you like him,” Johnny repeats, crossing his arms in satisfaction at successfully handing off the order. “You like Taeyong.”

You roll your eyes at the baseless claim. “He’s a regular and I’ve become used to seeing him, that’s all.”

“Yeah, yeah,” your coworker teases, “Used to seeing his face and wanting to kiss him. I’ve seen you staring at his lips when he drinks your iced—”

“One iced Americano please.”

Ears perking up, you practically shove Johnny aside and grin widely at seeing Taeyong standing before you.

“Are you okay?” Taeyong asks curiously. “You look… out of breath.”

“Oh, I’m… I’m fine.” You throw a dirty glance at Johnny and thankfully he is smart enough to remain silent on the teasing.

“Here,” you smile, setting down the iced Americano you had made prior to his arrival. “I already had your drink ready in case you were in a rush or something.”

“Oh.” He looks strangely disappointed as he takes the drink from you. “Thanks.”

“Something wrong?” you ask, noticing the sudden pout on Taeyong’s face and trying to not remark on how cute he looks doing so.

“No, I’m… I’m not in a rush.”

“I just thought you’d want your drink immediately so I made it ahead of time. If it tastes watered down because of the melted ice, I can always remake—”

“What… What’s your favorite drink?”

His question catches you off guard and you reiterate to make sure you had heard properly.

“Like… favorite coffee drink or favorite drink in general?”

“Favorite coffee drink.”

“Um… I guess iced vanilla lattes are my favorite.”

“Okay.”

“Want to hear a secret?” you suddenly murmur in a hushed voice. “I just remembered about it.”

“Sure.”

Beckoning him away from the register, you lean over the counter and recall the instance of the forgotten vanilla latte.

“It was on the day you stopped by after hours. Someone ordered a vanilla latte but forgot it here and I got to have it. I’m pretty sure Johnny would’ve drank it since he was the one who found it, but he’s not too fond of vanilla lattes so I got to finish it instead.”

“That… That’s good, right?” Taeyong chimes thoughtfully. “Being able to drink your favorite coffee?”

“Mhm.” You smile at remembering the unexpected pick-me-up. “It’ll be nice if I had one to drink after work since I’m usually really tired when we close up shop, but what are the chances someone would forget their drink again after already forgetting it once?”

A smile tugging at his lips, Taeyong takes another sip of the Americano and places down a handful of wrapped chocolates. Your eyes light up like Christmas had come early, hands quickly stuffing all of them into the pocket of your uniform before Johnny notices.

“I can bring more tomorrow if you’d like.”

“I really like chocolate,” you admit, already unwrapping a chocolate and popping it into your mouth. “But if I’m to be completely honest, I think I like you more than chocolate.”

“You like me?” Taeyong echoes, turning to you in surprise. “You like me more than chocolate?”

Realization dawns and your face warms, heat rivaling the flickering flames of a holiday fireplace. Embarrassed, you quickly head towards the storeroom in the back, yelling at Johnny that you needed to get more tea leaves.

“What on earth was that,” Johnny chuckles, returning change to an old lady who came every afternoon for earl grey tea. “I just got out a bag of tea leaves.”

—

“Today’s drink.”

“Who keeps forgetting to get their drinks?” you exclaim, taking the cup from Johnny. “I’m grateful for the extra pick-me-up after a long day of work but it feels like I’m ripping off the cafe by drinking a customer’s order.”

“Don’t worry, it’s paid for. You’re not getting that for free.”

“This,” you sputter, opening the lid and spitting out what you have in your mouth. “This is not a vanilla latte!”

Johnny peers into your cup. “You don’t like eggnog?”

You make a face. “I hate eggnog.”

“You never told me you didn’t like eggnog.”

“That’s because I would never get it for myself, so I didn’t feel the need to mention it.”

He takes the eggnog latte from you and tosses it into the trash.

“What’s your favorite, then? From the winter menu.”

You reach into your pocket, only to come up empty-handed of any chocolate. Must’ve eaten it all yesterday when you were waiting for Johnny at the mall after some last-minute gift shopping.

“Peppermint hot chocolate. Johnny, hand me the peppermint extract.”

“You’re going to make hot chocolate now? Our shift ended an hour ago.”

“It won’t take too long,” you promise, thanking him for the peppermint extract. “I need the peppermint to wash out the taste of lingering eggnog on my tongue.”

“Make me some too.”

Ten minutes later, a cup of steaming hot chocolate topped with frothy whipped cream makes its way in front of Johnny and a sigh of contentment escapes from his mouth after only one sip.

“I now understand why customers always order the peppermint hot chocolate.”

You grin at hearing his compliment. “Thanks.”

“You…” He gestures to your nose. “You have some whipped cream on your nose.”

Lifting a finger, you rub the dollop of whipped cream off your nose and lick it off your finger.

“I should tell him your favorite is the hot chocolate,” Johnny mutters. “That way he doesn’t have to order the vanilla latte every single day.”

Your sharp hearing picks up Johnny’s words and you look at him in surprise.

“You know who’s been leaving behind the extra vanilla latte?”

“N-No,” he stammers quickly. “H-How would I know when there’s so many people here every day?”

Narrowing your eyes, you pick up a candy cane from the tin sitting by the coffee lids and point it menacingly his direction.

“Johnny Seo, who has been ordering extra vanilla lattes and leaving them for me every day?”

“It’s someone you know,” he grumbles. “And don’t poke me with that.”

You drop the candy cane back to its original spot. “I don’t…?”

“Oh, you definitely know this person.”

Mind blank, the confusion couldn’t have been more clear on your face.

“…I can’t think of anyone off the top of my head.”

“You’ll find out who he is tomorrow,” Johnny finishes, handing you his empty cup. “Now let’s wrap up; I need to go home and sleep for the hell that is tomorrow’s shift.”

—

The jingle on the front door never stopped once on Christmas Day. Couple after couple entering the café and lining up to order drinks, you and Johnny easily enter conveyor belt mode: Johnny taking down orders and lining up cups as you work on the coffee machines and make all the drinks. Occasionally there is a switch when the coffee machines ran low so he can go right into making drinks after refilling the coffee beans, you moving to register and managing any requests for pastries while taking new drink orders. Mornings are tougher when a lot of regulars also stopped by for their usual in addition to the seasonal wave of customers, but you eventually gain momentum and power through.

It’s especially more tolerable when you and Johnny unanimously decide to close the shop for two hours of lunch since the afternoons were usually a bit slower.

“Why not take advantage and use some of that time for ourselves?”, he had pointed out as he brought back takeout from the Japanese restaurant two blocks down. “We deserve some holiday relaxation too.”

—

“Johnny, that’s too much whipped cream,” you warn, right hand jotting down an order for a large white chocolate mocha, the clock on the wall reading 4pm. “It’s going to spill over the lid and—”

“Fuck,” he mutters, the dollop of white spilling over and staining his fingers. “Hold on.”

Wiping the extra cream off on his apron, Johnny quickly hands the customer her drink and wishes her a “Merry Christmas” before turning to grab the next cup. A whistle of relief tickles your ears when he sees the next item to make.

“Finally, something for me to make that isn’t sea salt caramel.”

“No milk,” you hiss in exasperation, kneeling to the extra inventory kept underneath the work station and emerging with an unopened carton of milk. “How are the teas?”

“Plenty of tea leaves left.”

“Excuse me,” a soft voice sounds, “Can I get a—”

“I’ll be right with you,” you call out to the next customer, pouring out the appropriate amount of milk for the white chocolate mocha and heating it up before returning to the register, pleasantly surprised to see the familiar face.

“You look busy,” Taeyong comments, glossing over your slightly disheveled look. “Hopefully you got to have a break?”

“Always busy when it’s Christmas,” you sigh, keeping one eye on the milk. “Apparently coffee dates are becoming more and more popular. I’ll have your iced Americano ready in a bit.”

“I actually—”

“Johnny, stop going overboard with the whipped cream!” you yell, running to grab the milk once it’s done. “It’s the seventh time now!”

Your coworker swears at the mountain of whipped cream on his finished creation, overflow accompanied by a string of profanity that hopefully the customers don’t overhear.

“I’m trying not to but I can’t help it!”

Squirting white chocolate syrup into the plastic cup, you fill it up with espresso and add the steamed milk last, snatching the can of whipped cream from Johnny. He scowls at your demonstration of a “more than adequate amount” cream on top before grabbing the drink back and putting a lid on it before give to the customer.

“Y/N,” Taeyong starts, “I—”

“Oh my god, your drink, I completely forgot!”

“I want… to order something else,” he speaks up before you rush for the espresso again. “Along with the Americano.”

“Something else?” you pipe up, nodding to the couple next in line and handing them a bag filled with Christmas cookies baked just for today’s sales.

“Yes, I… I’d like to get a peppermint hot chocolate.”

You quirk an eyebrow up in surprise. The Taeyong you knew had only ever ordered iced Americanos, occasionally a chocolate croissant if he was in the mood for something to eat. He never ordered anything that deviated from what he usually got, let alone something on the winter menu.

“Peppermint hot chocolate,” you echo, not quite believing what you had heard and needing the extra confirmation from his own mouth. “One peppermint hot chocolate and one iced Americano?”

“Yes,” he confirms. “A peppermint hot chocolate along with the iced Americano.”

“Got it,” you answer, already getting to work on those drinks while your mind processes what had just happened. “It’ll be ready in a few.”

“I’ll leave the hot chocolate for you after it’s done.”

You whip up the iced Americano in a matter of minutes and didn’t hear that last part as your hands reach for the peppermint extract and final can of whipped cream in stock, all attention currently focused on lecturing Johnny for adding too much cinnamon into the cinnamon nutmeg coffee. It was just like Johnny to upset the balance that made it cinnamon nutmeg spiced coffee and not solely cinnamon coffee.

—

7:30pm, and the two of you sigh in relief once the last customer exits the café with a eggnog latte in hand. Fatigue stung directly to the bones, but it is worth seeing an empty cafe ten minutes before closing time in addition to the overflowing tip jar.

“Hey, Johnny, why is there a drink here?”

You point towards the lone cup sitting on the counter next to the napkins and Johnny shrugs.

“Beats me,” Johnny replies, getting up from his seat on your shared table to start counting the money in the tip jar. “Do you want to drink it?”

You head over to inspect the forgotten drink, unsure on what the drink is until you open the lid and smell the faint trail of peppermint.

“Cold hot chocolate is gross,” you grimace, regretfully tossing the cold drink out. “Sure would like an iced vanilla latte though.”

“I thought the peppermint hot chocolate was your favorite.”

You turn around and nearly scream when you spot the gray-haired figure standing behind you.

“Dude, when did you come in?” Johnny laughs, handing you a white envelope with your share of today’s tips. “Scared the crap out of the both of us.”

You take the envelope from Johnny and tuck it in the back pocket of your jeans, unsure why Taeyong was here after hours. Déjà vu, much—especially when he wore the exact same gray coat from when you first met him.

Luckily, the latter is the first to break the brief period of silence.

“Johnny said the peppermint hot chocolate was your favorite.”

“Yes, I did tell him that,” you begin warily. “What’s it gotta do with you?”

“Did… Did you not drink the hot chocolate I ordered?” Taeyong’s lips curve to a pout. “I purposely left it there so that you would have it.”

“You purposely left—” Memories of an extra iced vanilla latte lying around suddenly flash in your mind and you laugh awkwardly at finally piecing the pieces together after so long.

“Taeyong, you… don’t tell me you’re also the idiot who kept forgetting their drink after paying for it all last week.”

He doesn’t look at you, interest fixated on the tin of candy canes on the counter.

“Can I take one?”

“Yeah, of course.”

You couldn’t help but cover your face in your hands as Taeyong unwraps a candy cane, his deflection endearing while you wallow in your self-induced embarrassment.

“Why didn’t you tell me back then that you had come to get your drink?” you blurt out, letting out a deep sigh before running a hand through your hair to ease your nerves. “I could’ve just made a new one for you.”

“I couldn’t,” Taeyong answers with a knowing glance. “Not when you had already drunk from it.”

“And you said it’ll be nice if you had a vanilla latte to drink after work,” he added quietly. “So I took it upon myself to buy you one each day to make you happy.”

“This dumbass here asks you to make his drink so you don’t see him pay for your latte,” Johnny chimes in, unwrapping a candy cane for himself. “And since I didn’t know you hated eggnog, that’s what I told him you would like when he asked what winter drink you liked.”

“Don’t call him a dumbass,” you snap at Johnny, kicking his foot harder than needed. “He was just trying to be nice!”

“Now’s the best chance to ask my annoying coworker out on a date, Taeyong.”

You glare at Johnny and the latter pretends to not see it, excusing himself to leave the floor open for you to sort things out with his friend.

Taeyong smiles at the opening and extends a hand. “I was actually going to ask if you’d like to watch a movie with me after your shift ended. The theater is showing A Christmas Carol and I thought it’d be perfect since today is Christmas.”

“You already bought tickets,” you note, spying the two slips of paper in his right hand. “Bold move.”

“Well I wasn’t expecting you to reject me,” he chuckles. “Since I kind of like you and was thinking you felt the same way.”

“I’m going to need something to drink before I go out with you.” Your eyes shift towards the whiteboard with the winter menu written on it. “I’ve been working nonstop all day.”

The door towards the backroom swings open and Johnny proceeds to stare openly after hearing Taeyong’s request to make you a peppermint hot chocolate.

“Johnny, can you make a peppermint hot chocolate? I’ll pay.”

You shake your head, grinning as you reach a hand over the counter and show Taeyong the iced vanilla latte in your hand.

“No need, I’ve already got the best drink right here!”

“Right,” Taeyong murmurs, fiddling with the buttons on his gray coat. “You love iced vanilla lattes more than even peppermint hot chocolate.”

“I might be a little hyper later,” you warn, the cup nearly an inch from empty. “If not, then I’d probably crash halfway through. Are you sure you still want to go see the movie?”

“You can sleep on my shoulder if you end up passing out in the theater.”

“And if I don’t wake up even when the lights come on?”

“Then I’ll wake you up with a kiss after crashing from all that coffee.”

“Get out!” Johnny yells, pushing you towards Taeyong. “I need to clean up and I can’t do that when I have two lovebirds being sappy to each other right in my face!”

You quickly grab the rest of your things and exchange a laugh with Taeyong after getting kicked out of the café. He does the same and starts to walk; you unconsciously follow and take a deep breath to confirm if the date is still happening.

“You’re still taking me to the theater, right?” you ask, switching your purse to your left hand to free up your right. “And you mean it when you said you ‘kind of’ like me?”

Taeyong smiles, nodding as he grabs your right hand, sticking it into his coat pocket and squeezing your fingers tightly.

“Yes. I’ve been wanting to ask you out since you told me you liked me more than chocolate.”

#nct scenarios #taeyong scenarios #nct fanfic #taeyong fanfic #nct #taeyong

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