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dhoranbolt · 3 months

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You don't fool me

A/n: two thing- first this took me forever to write, I kept having to go back and scrap ideas 🥹 second, I did not know just how down bad I was for this man until I had to sit down and write this so.

Also friendly reminder- if your age isn't easily accessible on your profile I will not be tagging you! That said if you'd like a tag in future works let me know and I'll add you to the list!

bestie beta reader: @yukios-medic you are really the best ma'am I appreciate you so much 🥹💙💙💙

Pairing: Sukuna x fem!reader, Yuji pining

cw/tw: minors/ageless blogs DNI, all characters aged up, dub-con that becomes enthusiastic consent, unprotected sex, cream pie, fingering, oral sex (female receiving), oral sex (male receiving), rough sex, dirty talk, threats of killing

Word count: 5k (ish)

This wasn't the first time they'd been paired up and sent off to find and kill a curse, but it was the first time Yuji was weary of the whole thing. They were both strong, that wasn't an issue – he'd been on back-to-back missions for weeks and it was starting to take its toll, that was the issue.

Of course, it didn't help that whenever he was around her, Sukuna would become an even bigger pain in the ass (than he already was).

They'd been sent to a long-abandoned warehouse, falling apart as it was, and radiating with cursed energy. Yep, whatever it was they were after was definitely in here.

"Split up to cover more ground?" She suggested as she looked up at him, but he shook his head.

"We can probably exorcize it quicker if we come across it at the same time, we should just stick together for now." It was a simple enough explanation, not a hint of 'I'm pushing my limits just being here with you' or 'it's easier to know you're safe if you're by my side' detectable.

To her, at least. Yuji chooses to ignore the scoff that resonates in his head as they cautiously enter the building. They walk side-by-side down the hallway, ears and eyes analyzing every detail of their surroundings.

"Must be one pain in the ass curse to send the both of us. I can feel the cursed energy everywhere, I just can't tell exactly where the source is." She filled the silence, wringing her hands together nervously.

"Yeah, I know what you mean. It’s out there, but it's all about the same output. We'll just have to watch our backs." Yuji said with a nod.

"Hey, what do you think Nobara did when she found out Gojo canceled movie night to send us after this one? I can see her practically popping a vein." She laughed softly, moving around a stack of boxes to find any sign of their curse.

"Fushiguro is probably wishing it was you that got left behind right about now." Yuji guessed with a small chuckle, suppressing the thought that he might have wished for it, too. A faint gurgle sounded at the opposite end of the hall, cursed energy seeping into every corner of their bodies as it grew closer.

Yuji covered her mouth with his hand, keeping her scream muffled as he tugged her against his chest and pulled them into the shadows.

"Shh, I think I hear something." He murmurs, squinting in the darkness. He doesn't feel the mouth form on his hand, not until her lips are moving against his palm as she makes a noise.

She's gagging; trying to pry Yuji's hand off her face. And he's going to – until Sukuna's voice rings in his head.

'Pull away and I'll bite her tongue off. Try to keep her quiet while she's drowning in her own blood'

Yuji froze as Sukuna cackled, and she still struggled in his grip, now like iron to keep the curse from making good on his threat.

His name was muffled when she frantically tried to call it, but it only left her mouth open that much more for Sukuna to swipe his tongue along the inside.

If they could conceal their own cursed energy for just a second, then it would keep going on its path to the left of them, and probably wouldn't circle back around for a while. Yuji set his jaw, glaring up the hall as he spoke.

"Conceal your energy, then we'll deal with him. One curse at a time." The only confirmation she gave that she heard him was slightly loosening her grip on his arm.

The curse slunk away and Yuji held his breath, waiting to hear any sign of it coming back. When he was sure it wasn’t, he let out a sigh and threw his head back against the wall. Taking a moment to realize the situation they were still in he looked down at her.

He couldn’t see the blush in her cheeks, but he could feel the heat on his fingers. She shifted her body against his, letting out a whimper at the awkward kiss she was still locked in.

Yuji swallowed hard and took a deep breath. This was so not the time to be letting the sounds she was making go straight to his cock.

'You want her so badly, take her.' Sukuna taunted.

"No." Yuji snapped his response, trying to think of a way out of this (and the boner he was starting to sport against her back).

'Fuck her, brat. Or I'll kill her the next time I get the chance, and I'll draw it out while I make you watch.'

Sukuna knew well what he was doing, keeping this conversation in Yuji's head. She had no clue what he was trying to shield her from. Of course he wanted her, but not like this. Not when Sukuna was all but forcing his hand on the matter, not even giving her a choice.

“I said no! Knock it off!” Sukuna just chuckled, and she turned her head to look up at him with worry in her eyes.

'Or perhaps you’d like me to put us both out of commission. Tell me, just how long do you think she’d last against this curse on her own?'

Yuji’s heart dropped to his stomach. There’s no way Sukuna hated her enough to let her die like this, not with the way he found her so entertaining to him. Not with the way he currently had his tongue down the back of her throat- right?

'No, but if it would cause you everlasting turmoil, I’d jump at the chance.'

Could she ever forgive him for doing this? Would Sukuna even drop this after all was said and done?

Yuji was exhausted, and Sukuna knew it too. It was only a matter of time before he could slip out and swap places.

'I could always assist instead. After all, one wrong move and she’s on her own anyways. Go ahead brat, ask me for my help.' He grinned.

“No, last time I let you out you were a dick.” Yuji snapped, but he was running out of options here. How long until that curse realized where they were and turned back around? He could always make a deal with Sukuna, if he would agree to it was another question though.

At the sound of Yuji’s words her body tensed, blood running cold. There was no way Yuji was actually thinking about letting the king of curses out into the wild, especially when he already had her in this position.

'Tic-toc punk ass, this offer isn’t going to last forever.'

“Promise you won’t hurt her first.” Her eyes went wide and she began to struggle in his grasp again, body going hot. Screaming through his palm and Sukuna’s tongue as well as she could manage in protest.

There is no way he’s about to offer his body over to Sukuna right now, and all she could think about were all the previous times he’d spoken to her – though, at her might be a better word. Everything he’d said up to this point, his promises to absolutely wreck her- all came flooding back. Could they really not handle this job any other way than to bring Sukuna into the mix?

'You humans are so predictable, really fucking takes the fun out of everything. I’ll get rid of the curse. Just say you aren’t strong enough, you need a real man to do your dirty work for you.'

“That’s not-”

'Going once…'

“I don’t-”

'Going TWICE...'

“Fine! I need your help, please.” She was hysterical at this point, thrashing in his grip as much as she could, grinding her ass into him harder every time she moved.

'That doesn’t sound like what we agreed to, try again.'

Yuji groaned, thankful he could use that as an excuse to let out some of his frustrations.

“Sukuna please, I’m not strong enough and need a real man to do my dirty work for me.” Yuji bit out, and she stilled at his words, stomach knotting. Any minute now, Sukuna would be breathing down her neck. Months of sexual tension, mostly from his side - would it finally come to a head now? Or would he leave it and just get the job done, let Yuji take back over when it was safe–

A low chuckle rumbled from behind her, and the sound ran straight through her body to her core. She swallowed, realizing the tongue down her throat had finally disappeared.

Sukuna ran a hand up her chest before resting it on her throat.

“Well, well, this is certainly a turn of events, isn’t it?” She whimpered, frozen in place. What the hell was she supposed to do now?

“Sukuna…” She breathed his name warily.

“Surprised to see me? I did tell you I’d have you some day. So, how was I? It’s been a few hundred years. You’ll have to excuse the fact I’m a little rusty.” Sukuna filled the silence, not waiting for an answer.

“You weren’t too bad yourself; I think I even felt you participating at the end. Care for more?” He whispered in her ear, tongue flicking out to lick her lobe. She bit back her moan, clamping her knees together as she gently rocked back into him. He laughed, moving his hands down her body to grip her hips and pull her in closer against him.

“Oh, don’t be shy now, it’s just us. The brat won’t even know, it can be our little secret.”

“I-” She stammered, face hot. So what if she’d gone back to her room at the end of a long day full of Sukuna teasing her, and closed her eyes while chanting his name under the sheets? So what if being the object of the king of curses’ endless teasing was what she used to push her over the edge some nights? That was all by her choice - she was in charge.

Currently having Sukuna’s painfully rock-hard cock prodding her ass while he held her tight against him? She was so clearly not in charge, and to make matters worse? The realization sent her core gushing.

“I can smell you,” he continued, taking in a long breath. And this time she couldn’t bite back her moan.

“Sukuna!” She gasped, feeling the blush run up her ears.

“I think you should really stop being such a cock-tease, woman. No wonder Yuji can’t help but fuck his fist most nights. I bet he can smell you too, he just spares your feelings by not saying anything.” The fog he’d brought with him was starting to clear, and she tried to pry his fingers off of her.

“Stop! You’re lying!” But Sukuna just threw his head back in a cackle.

“I actually don’t care if you believe me, do you want to know why?” He stepped out from behind her so quickly, shoving her back against the wall, it made her head spin. Looking up at his tattooed face and red eyes only solidified how real this situation was for her - and her mouth went dry. He grinned down at her, gripping her chin to hold her in place.

“I’m going to fuck you through this wall. You won’t be able to look at that stupid brat without thinking of me inside you ever again. And he’ll never know because he’s out cold.” Using his free hand, he ripped off her skirt. She cried out, trying to grip his wrist and stop her panties from meeting the same fate.

“Aww, still shy, are we?” He teased as he examined the red lace, running his fingers down to the ever-growing wet spot on them.

“N-No!” Sukuna just chuckled, watching her face morph from flustered to pleasure at his touch.

“And look, you even wore red just for me. How cute of you.” She moaned, closing her eyes. The physical and mental teasing was too much. If he wasn’t going to kill her, she was going to die of embarrassment. He sucked his teeth, hooking his thumb into her mouth and tugging her face.

“Look at me while I touch you, I won’t tell you twice.” He snapped, and her heart thrummed in her chest. It felt so good to finally have him touch her after all this time, she’d forgotten just how dangerous he was in the moment. She nodded sheepishly.

“Good, you listen well for a sorcerer. I don’t believe in praising those beneath me, but I think I’ll make an exception just this once.” He pressed his fingers against her core, watching the way she squirmed under him.

“You’re so wet already and I’ve barely touched you, was my tongue down your throat just what you needed?” Her head was spinning, his hold on her jaw rough, but all she could picture was wrapping her lips around him.

She slid her tongue around his thumb cautiously, watching his reaction for any sign that she’d miss-stepped.

He groaned, smirking down at her as he leaned closer.

“And here you’d have everyone believing you’re too innocent for such filthy things.” Finding the edge of her panties, he pushed them aside, running his fingers through her slick folds. He watched as she moaned, satisfaction settling on his face as the moan grew louder when he pushed a finger inside of her.

“God you’re so tight, there’s no way that brat could stuff his cock in you.” Her walls flexed at his words. Sukuna’s one finger was already so thick, and now her mind was swimming with the thought of having more.

“But don’t worry, you’ll take it from me.” And then she felt a second finger at her entrance, making her eyes open wider. She tried to speak as best she could around the awkward hold he still had her in, but it didn’t matter.

“Suku-na!” She cried out as he forced another finger into her.

“I’d be thanking me if I were you. I’m feeling generous enough to stretch you out before I ram my cock into your stomach.” He offered, grinning as he watched her try and hold herself together.

He didn’t wait for her to adjust to the feeling, why would he? Fucking her open on him was all he could think about while he sat bored on his throne - not that he was admitting it aloud.

So many days, weeks, months, of him wrapped up in her. He knew exactly what she was doing to him, even if she didn’t.

“Was it worth it to parade around like a whore in heat around us?” He asked as he began to slide his fingers in and out of her.

“You know I offered him the chance to have you first. Humans and their virtues though, so fickle. Of course, the brat couldn’t do this.” He pressed his palm against her cunt, and her back arched off the wall as his tongue shot out to flatten on her clit.

Letting go of her chin he wrapped his hand around her neck, giving it a testing squeeze before trailing down to her chest. Groping over her top, and then easily ripping the buttons away.

“Not my clothes!” She protested, but if he heard, he ignored her. Choosing instead to knead her breast as it spilled over her matching bra. Sukuna chuckled, looking back at her.

“The matching set, I’m starting to think you really did wear this just for me. Is that what you do? Under all those clothes you put on, you wear red hoping I’ll catch a glimpse. Hoping I’ll come out to rip it off of you.” He spoke as he rolled her bud roughly between his fingertips.

“God!” She cried out. He was everywhere. Pumping his fingers further inside her walls, tongue abusing her clit-

“I’ll be your god.” He hissed, before leaning down to suck her nipple into his mouth.

She was fast approaching the edge, gasping for air as he shot her towards her peak.

He curled his fingers inside of her, reaching a new angle that sent white hot pleasure shooting through her body.

“Sukuna!” She choked out, reaching up to ball her hands into his top. She was wary of touching him at first, opting to press against the wall instead. But it was all too much. She needed something more to try and ground herself through the first orgasm he was going to rip from her body.

“You gonna cum, little sorcerer?” He hummed around a mouthful of her breast, looking up at her expectantly. She already looked so cute and fucked out for him; grinding into his hand to push him further inside, face flushed as she whimpered his name over, brows pinched up while she looked down to him with a breathless nod.

“Please Sukuna...” If he wasn’t so pent up himself, he might have stopped what he was doing, but edging her would only edge him, and he had no interest in prolonging his own pleasure any more than being stuck in the passenger seat of his vessel already had.

For this encounter, anyways. So, he gave her what she wanted, driving his fingers faster into her cunt, biting down on the nipple currently still in his mouth, while his other hand roughly pinched at the other.

He could feel how close she was. It was getting harder to slide his fingers back into her, and he couldn’t wait to sink into her.

When he didn’t slow down or stop, she took it as permission, though, the tip of the iceberg was so close that even if he had told her no, she wasn’t sure she could have stopped, anyway.

It crashed over her in waves, throwing her against the wall as she cried out his name. Everything was gone - her sight, her hearing, all she could do was ride against his hand, and hope that their grasp on each other was enough to keep her standing through the intensity of it all.

Even when her high started to ebb away, he was still lazily pumping his fingers inside of her. Slowly the world came back to her, heartbeat pounding in her ears, and she whined.

“Aww, is someone sensitive?” He pulled away from her chest with a grin, red eyes glinting as he stared down at her dazed expression. She weakly pushed against his chest, trying to get him to stop while she regained some semblance of normal breathing.

“Sukuna…”

“Well, aren’t you going to thank me?” She swallowed hard, still trying to find her way out of the haze.

“I- thank you...” He pulled his fingers out of her, chuckling at the whimper that left her lips. Raising his hand to his mouth, he kept his eyes on her as he sucked his fingers clean.

“Mmm, I don’t think so.”

“What?” Confusion crossed her face, and he pressed the same two fingers against her parted lips, looking on in admiration as she opened them without question. Sukuna pressed his fingers against her tongue, pulling her mouth open as he did.

“Those red panties you’re wearing will be sufficient.”

“What?” The word left her mouth again, and he raised an eyebrow, dragging his fingers down her tongue and out of her mouth. She stared at him for only a second more before leaning down to slide them off her hips. She looked down to keep from fumbling, but he hooked his finger under her chin, tilting her face back up to him.

“I didn’t say you could look away.” She bit her lip, shimmying awkwardly to slide them down her knees. Stepping one foot out of them at a time, she began to lift them up. He grabbed them from her, large fingers brushing her own as he did.

She moved to stand up again, but he stopped her, shaking his head.

“On second thought, I don’t think one pair of panties is worth a mind-numbing orgasm, do you?” But it wasn’t really a question, not when he was already guiding her to her knees in front of him. The floor below her was cold - a shock that her core, still radiating heat, could feel.

“Be a good girl and open wide,” he said, reaching into his pants to take hold of his neglected cock. Pulling it out, he ran his thumb over the tip, smearing his precum up and down his length.

Sukuna groaned, gritting his teeth. The brat could imagine all he wanted; it would never compare to having her right here in front of him. Small hands braced on his thighs, eyes blown wide as she took in just how fucked she was about to be.

“See something you like?” Her breath hitched as he knocked his fat tip against her bottom lip. She slowly opened her mouth, tongue sliding out and against the underside of his cock. He groaned again, grabbing the back of her head as he forced himself into her mouth.

She dug her nails into his thighs as he did, trying in vain to pull her head back so she could breathe.

“You’re not acting very grateful. Don’t make me fuck your throat, I’ll end up hurting your feelings.” He chuckled. Tears were already welling in her eyes as she choked on what he could fit in her mouth. Slowly, she removed a hand off from his thigh, reaching down to run her fingers through her folds. When she’d gathered enough of her release, she reached back up to pump the rest of him with it.

“How resourceful of you. Makes me want to fuck my cock down your throat all the more.” She moaned around his length, gently rocking him as far as she could take him. Part of her was screaming for air, the other wanted to make him feel just as good as he’d made her feel moments ago. The fog was back, and she blinked the tears away as she looked up at him.

His jaw was tense, one hand still at the back of her head, the other balled in a fist and braced against the wall. Before this she’d only seen him when he was a mouth and one eye, stirring up chaos on Yuji’s cheek. Looking up at him now, though, red eyes trained on her and black markings all over his body - he was breathtaking.

All-powerful and terrifying as hell, considering that he could kill her in an instant, but breathtaking, nonetheless. She let her other hand slide down his leg to rest between her own, pressing her fingers into herself - only to whine in disappointment when it felt nothing like him.

“Needy little thing, aren’t you? I’ve gone hundreds of years without, and you just can’t wait for another.” She breathed hard through her nose, trying to take in as much air as she could before he hit the back of her throat again. Black dots buzzed at the corners of her vision, the sound of her choking on what she could take echoed through the hall.

Her jaw was pried open at a painful angle to accommodate him, and he wasn’t showing any signs of stopping. Her grasp on his cock grew slack, and she wasn’t fighting him every time he knocked his tip just a little further into her mouth. Her own fingers stilled in her aching walls, eyelids fighting to stay open.

Sukuna huffed, sliding his hand around to smack at her cheek.

“Don’t go passing out on me now, I’m not finished with you just yet.” And he pulled out of her mouth with a loud squelch as she gasped for air. The lightheaded feeling slowly dissipated as she looked up at him, tears and spit covering her face.

“You did okay. For now. We’ll revisit that later, get up.” She didn’t have to be told twice, rising on wobbly legs as quickly as she could. The thought occurred to her, that she was practically naked in front of him, while he was still fully clothed. She swallowed hard, trying to wipe away some of the shame along with the tears.

But he didn’t give her much time to wallow in her self-pity, quickly turning her around and pinning her to the cool wall. She shivered at the feeling of his solid body pressed into her back, erection still wet with her spit as it bounced on her bare ass.

“Maybe next time, I’ll let you look at me while I fuck you.” He breathed down her neck, grabbing his length and rubbing it through her folds. She dug her nails into the wall; he barely fit her mouth, there was no way she was ready–

“Relax, I’m not interested in breaking you the first time around. It would ruin the fun in watching you look at me in anticipation every time you’re around.” And he wasn’t wrong. Hell, he was still here, and the anticipation was coursing through her. Taking a slow breath she waited, thankful that the cool wall was enough to ease the heat on her face.

Sukuna gripped her hip and hooked his tip at her entrance before pushing in. She gritted her teeth, moaning at the already over-full feeling. For the situation being what it was, he was fairly gentle as he steadily eased himself through her tight walls with a prolonged hiss. She could only stay pressed against the wall, jaw dropped in a silent moan as he filled her out inch by agonizing inch. Her eyes rolled, body unsure if she should cry out in pleasure or pain.

“God look at you, practically foaming at the mouth. What would your sorcerers say if they caught you like this, hmm?” He groaned, bucking his hips up into hers. Her voice finally caught up to her, and she cried out, nails scraping down the wall as she clawed for anything to keep her grounded.

He didn’t quite fit all the way, but it only turned Sukuna on even more. Of course, he couldn’t fit - but he would. He would break her open on his cock as many times as he needed, until she fit him like a second skin. Until he was the only thing she could think about whenever she tried to seek pleasure elsewhere.

She was playing a game she had no clue about, and Sukuna was going to win. He laughed as he grabbed her hips, pulling out to slam back into her walls. They sucked him in and tried to keep him out all at the same time.

“Sukuna, fuck!” She moaned, reaching behind her to slow him down. He said he wasn’t going to break her, but the rough pace he’d set was literally fucking the air right out of her lungs. Her walls squeezed him tighter, and he moaned.

“Too much for you already, princess? I’m just getting started.” Sukuna grabbed her wrists, pinning them above her head.

“Too much, fuck, ‘s too much!”

“I’m not that brat, you’ll take what I give you exactly how I give it to you. Don’t piss me off, I’m in such a giving mood, right now!” He snaked his other hand around her, tongue darting out to swirl around her clit. Sukuna grinned. In an attempt to get away, she only managed to shove herself further onto his cock.

“Sukuna please, I don’t…Please!”

“Short circuiting, and I’m not even close yet. Shall we see just how many times I can make you cry before I’m finally satisfied?” Her mind was melting, she didn’t care anymore. What was she even begging for? Him to stop? Or maybe she was begging him not to stop. She’d never been filled up like this before; even the pain was pleasurable now. All she could do was stand against this wall and take it, anyway. Her body relaxed against him slightly, and he grinned.

“Is there something you want from me, little sorcerer?” She bit her wobbly lip hard, trying to focus on his words.

“I want- I wanna cum.”

“That so?” She nodded with a whimper.

“Beg, and I’ll think about it.” She couldn’t even be bothered with the feelings of shame looming overhead. She wanted one thing, and if begging was all she needed to do to achieve it, well…

“Please I wanna cum.” She whined, hands flexing in his grasp.

“Beg more, you can do better than that.”

“Please Sukuna please I wanna cum, never wanted to cum so bad. Please make me cum on your cock please I-” She was a wailing mess, she didn’t care who heard her pleas, only that he might answer them. His tongue licked at her folds, snaking around his length to tease her from every side.

He rocked her into her second orgasm, reveling in the feeling of her tightening around him as she screamed.

God, he needed to feel it again. The way her walls fluttered around his thickness, trying to close around the strain of taking him. The feeling was maddening, and Sukuna was sure he could pull another one from her immediately, he just needed to pick up the pace as he rammed his cock harder into her.

The wet sound of his second mouth lapping at her, mixed with her moaning variations of his name and ‘fuck don’t stop’ was more than enough to catch the attention of anyone close by, and as absorbed as Sukuna was in this little game, he wouldn’t let his guard down. He was sure she didn’t even remember what they were here for anymore at this point. If the whites of her rolled eyes and the drool currently sliding down the wall where her face was pressed against it were any indication, anyway.

He could feel her whole body start to twitch and tighten, and he knew she was close again. Two orgasms in, and he knew her body so well already. He’d put that knowledge to good use later.

“Go ahead little sorcerer, scream for me.” And she came hard, walls clamping down on him, practically shoving him out while she did. It was enough to send him reeling, too. Hips slamming up into her, he sank his teeth into her shoulder as he finished with a growl. If they weren’t both so wrapped up in each other, they might have realized he growled ‘mine.’ He painted her insides in white hot ropes, stilling when the euphoria finished washing over him.

“If you think that was mind-numbing, just wait until I get ahold of you in my true form.” Sukuna whispered against the shell of her ear.

He pulled out with a groan, watching her whole body quiver as he did.

“Clean yourself up.” She finally looked back at him, brows knit. He ripped the sleeve off his jacket, handing it over to her. When she tried to pull it, his grip tightened, and he looked at her expectantly.

“Thank you…” She said quietly as she cleared her throat.

“Such a good girl for me already, I don’t even have to train you. I’ll be back, be ready to leave when I am.”

“Wait where-”

“There’s still a job to do here, isn’t there? I’ve got a curse to kill.” He smirked as he walked backwards up the hall.

Yuji wouldn’t be awake for a while, plenty of time for Sukuna to hide his prize. One of the many he planned on taking from her, he thought as he twirled the red panties on his finger.

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#jjk #sukuna jjk #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna #sukuna ryomen #cannot believe I finished it finally FINALLY #sukuna smut #sukuna ryoumen smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #lil bit of yuji x reader

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oh-koenig-my-koenig · 4 months

Text

listening to music in his car

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

(cw: age gap 25/41, nsfw, pure smutty smut, consensual somno, light degradation, butt stuff, mdni)

👑 (king): whats going on? is something wrong? you’re much less chatty today me: I just had a really shitty day at work do you have some time? 👑 (king): yes me: can you pick me up and we just drive around and listen to music in your car? 👑 (king): be there in 10

He’s right, I am being much less chatty today. The truth is he has been on my mind all day, but work has been kicking my butt.

We didn’t see each other ever since he brought me to work yesterday in the morning. He insisted on it after almost making me late – for reasons. We hurried along, and I made us some coffee quickly, then we were out the door, into the car, and driving to my workplace.

The goodbye was a little awkward because I needed to get into work, but I couldn’t really tear myself away from him. His hand grabbed my chin and he kissed me one last time.

“Come on now, before I’m making you late again.”, he said, those words finally getting me to go, even though his hooded lids and the way he was looking at me made me want to climb onto his lap and fuck him again.

To say I had a hard time concentrating at work would be an understatement because I kept thinking about that morning. How he woke me up.

Soft licks on my pussy slowly but surely coaxing me awake, and the first thing I saw, was his head between my legs, his tongue dipping into me, the rosy tip disappearing inside me, which almost made me come on the spot. His hair was falling to the side, covering my thigh, brushing over the skin when he moved his head.

A soft moan escaped my lips which had him look up at me, his brows raising slightly, as I squirmed against his lips. “Good morning.”, he whispered softly against my pussy before he licked it again.

Heaven. I slowly stretch myself, grinding myself on his face, his nose nudging against my clit. Answering with a little tired “good morning”, a breathy sound, that made him chuckle, little puffs of air hitting the sensitive wet folds.

His hands gripped my thighs, spreading me for him, as he started to lick and suck more eagerly now that I’m awake. The zaps of pleasure, that shook me when he nipped at the sensitive skin, pushed my sleepiness away until I was a writhing wet mess coming undone on his tongue.

He didn’t stop at the one, this time using his fingers as well. Slowly and sweetly coaxing the second release out of me while he was sucking my clit. Licking up my arousal, even cleaning up his fingers that had been deep inside me.

I caught myself looking into the void, my mind coming back to his head between my legs more than once. My god, I needed to get a grip.

Such an event came in the form of our boss firing half the department. I didn’t get laid off, but I have been picking up the scraps ever since. Trying to figure out how the others managed their clients. How to distribute the tasks between the remaining workers.

Yesterday evening I met with a friend, one I have known for a very long time and who already has a husband and kids and the whole shebang, that’s why I didn’t wanna give her a raincheck. To be honest, I needed somebody to talk to about this whole mess. And also brag about my new acquaintance.

I fell into bed after coming home from having drinks with her. I maaaybe had one too many which almost made me late again (which is not a good look after half your department had been fired). Working on double speed to get everything done that piled up just overnight. And I sent König a few messages. But not nearly talking as much as before the concert.

Now that I see his message again “is something wrong?”, a pang of guilt hits me. I could’ve explained it to him better. I could’ve just texted him more. I could’ve just said that I’ll tell him later. That I just was busy and it had nothing to do with him. Shit.

I leave my apartment and wait for him on the curb, waving at him, when he drives closer and parks right in front of me.

“König Private Chauffeur inc. – at your service.”, he jokes as I get in the car, which makes me laugh.

“Thanks for picking me up.”, I tell him, feeling a bit shy all of a sudden. Can I kiss him? Is he… mad at me? He wouldn’t have made a joke like that or even picked me up, if he is, right?

I decide to first talk and then maybe steal a kiss later if he still feels up to it. I clasp my hands together and place them in my lap. The music from the speakers is a bit more quiet than last time, but I still recognise Dark Tranquility’s ‘Lethe’. He pulls out the driveway and starts driving at a pace above the speed limit that won’t get him in trouble if we get pulled over.

“I need to apologise.”, I start. He just looks at me for a moment, the expression on his face unreadable, before looking to the front again. And I’m aware of his serious intensity, while there is something still bubbling underneath. The same thing that just made him make the joke about being my chauffeur.

“Something happened at work and I was superbusy and yesterday in the evening I met with a friend, I told you about that, didn’t I?”, I yapp, not waiting for an answer. “And when I saw your messages, that was when I realized that I had barely texted you and didn’t even explain myself, and how that must’ve look after…” I trail off.

“I started to get worried.”, he admits. “But I didn’t want to press you because it’s not my place.” He clears his throat. “And for a little bit, I thought you maybe regretted it. What we did.”, he says with a wry smile on his face. And my stomach drops – just a little bit.

“What, no?! I just had the shittiest two days ever at work, so I didn’t have that much time to text you.”, I exclaim, reaching my hand out to touch his arm, and his gaze drops down to it for just a little bit, panning back up to me. “I swear, it had nothing to do with you. I’m sorry.” I smile at him and he nods, some of the worry dissipating. “And I don’t regret sleeping with you. Not in the slightest.”, I tell him, looking directly at him, so he knows I’m serious. I can feel the tension drop out of him, at least some of it, his shoulders relaxing ever so slightly.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t wanna… I thought that maybe the age difference…”, he starts to explain, but breaks off twice. “It seems, I was overthinking it.”

I shake my head. “Don’t be sorry.” To be fair, I would have never thought that it would give him some kind of insecurity – this kind of insecurity. But his messages and his words make it clear that he cared more about the whole ordeal than I thought. I pull my hand back, hesitatingly, not really knowing what else to say. His doubts were only in his head, not in mine.

"I’m gonna be honest with you, I didn't have any dates or sleepovers of that kind in like… probably four or five years?”, he says, the sentence more sounding like a question. “So, I’m a bit rusty.”

To say I’m flabbergasted by his admission would be an understatement. “Really?”, I ask. How? would be the next question. But I bite my tongue.

He shrugs his shoulders, seeming more nonchalant than he perhaps really is. “Yeah. I was too busy with work.”, he just says, but I can still see little nervous ticks happening all over his body. His thumb drumming on the steering wheel, his left leg bouncing up and down a bit. His other hand fidgeting with the gear shift, dropping down, grazing my thigh ever so slightly. Just the slight touch against my jeans makes me hyperaware of how close he is. The interior of the car is spacious enough, but due to his sheer size that doesn’t really matter. I lean more to the side, towards the center console, even closer to him.

“So, what happened at work?”, he asks then, seemingly not wanting to talk about his dating life anymore. I tell him about the whole mess with the department, and how I’m surprised that even though my boss doesn’t like me very much, I didn’t get cut, and that I now have all of Rhonda’s clients and they’re not happy about that either.

“So yeah, I’ve been extra busy and I can’t really slack because they’ll probably fire me too then.”, I conclude my extensive retelling of my last two work days.

“I see.”, he says.

Silence falls over us, ‘Spiritual Healing’ from Death sounding from the speakers.

“And… it really wasn’t anything I did?”, he asks then, his eyes darting to me.

I tilt my head at him, like ‘you’re seriously asking me this?’. “No, I swear. Everything is good. It was…” I look to the front as red-hot blush floods my cheeks. My god, this man made me cum twice on his tongue right after waking up without wanting any favours – sexual or otherwise – in return. And he feared that he did something wrong.

I clear my throat, trying to calm myself down, thinking about that whole ordeal, but it wasn’t working at all. Especially because he catches on how flustered I am. “It was good. Had a hard time thinking about anything else, when I really needed to focus on work.”, I confess. And not just the thing in the morning, right. The concert we went to together, the conversation in the car afterward, when we hooked up and he stayed over… A very dreamy first date – if you can call it that – in my book.

“I see. That’s…” His lips quirk as he’s trying to stay serious, but I can see him breaking, turning his mouth up into a smirk. “That’s good to know.”

“Don’t grin like that.”, I tell him, a little pouty, which only makes him laugh, while he takes a turn, so we’re heading down the road that leads outside the city.

His hand mindlessly wanders to his lips, his thumb softly stroking over his lower lips, like he’s also thinking about what we did, the reminder of how we kissed making my mouth drop open ever so slightly.

He sees the way I’m looking at him, and the pointer finger hooks in a ‘come hither’ motion. It doesn't take more than that. I lean towards him, bending up to reach him, my hand gripping his forearm, and I press my lips to his, feeling their softness. Just a short kiss because he’s still driving, but it is enough to make me sigh when he breaks away.

“So, tell me again, how good was it for you?”, he asks, a devilish grin forming on his face while his eyes dart between my face and the street in front of him.

I shoot him a look, but he only chuckles, a cocky sound. Oh, two can play this game. I’ll just remind him how desperate and turned on he was as well.

I lean closer to him once more, this time letting my hand trail down his stomach, placing kisses along his jawline, and I can almost hear him falter instantly, especially when my fingertips reach the waistband of his jeans. I lick his neck and a slight shiver shakes him, before I suck on it, leaving a small little hickey, like the one he left on my collarbone.

“Please.”, I say again, palming him over the zipper. His breath goes harder, the leather of the steering wheel squeaks with how hard he’s gripping it, while I softly graze over the hard tip that’s already poking out his jeans, his erection straining against the fabric.

“I need you to fuck me.”, I almost moan into his ear, a little bratty smile stalking onto my face. “Need you deep inside me.”

I can hear his restraint snap. He grunts, pulling the car to the side, parking it on the side of the road. “Get on the backseat.”, he orders, looking at me all stern, pure lust glinting in his eyes, and I scramble to get the seatbelt off and climb back through the seats.

That tone in his voice and that look on his face could make me do anything, my god. I suppress my need to answer with a “Yes, Sir” and watch him, while he gets out the driver’s side and opens the door to the backseat.

“Lie down, ass up.”, he tells me, gravelly and hoarse. I do as he told me and he pulls at my pants, pulling them far enough down to expose my ass and pussy. He climbs in behind me, onto the seat, his jeans grazing over the exposed skin of my thighs, and I have to hold myself back not to press back into his groin. He closes the door behind him and dwarfs the backseat with his sheer size, trying to fit under the car’s roof.

His hand comes down on my left cheek, the slap resounding in the space around us, drowning out the music for a split second. He spanks me again, a few times actually, which has me squirm, needy, wet and desperate for his touch. His fingers lightly graze over the reddened skin before he slaps my cheeks again, while his other hand finds my wetness, fingertips rubbing over my clit.

“If I had known that you are such a needy little thing…”, he says, pushing his fingers into me roughly. I whimper, his words only making me wetter, as I grind against his hand.

“Oh, you like that, huh?”, he asks, a rather rhetorical question.

“Yes, please, fuck.”, I groan, my nails digging into the firm black leather of the backseat, desperate to hold on to something, while the pushes of his digits alone almost make me slide forwards. Trying to fuck myself back onto him, my hips buck of their own volition.

“Please, I need more.”, I beg, and he grumbles, pulling his finger out of me and trying to grab his wallet to get a condom.

“That’s not more.”, I comment, meekly, teasing him, the little smirk on my face hidden, but he knows anyway. One of his hands slaps my ass again, harder this time, and I whine and giggle, wriggling underneath him.

He opens the foil packet with his teeth while his other hand fumbles with his belt. Hurried, rushed movements. I hear the snap of the rubber and then he pushes into me. The sudden stretch makes me scream, my back arching.

“Is that what you wanted, Kleine?”, he almost growls, as he starts to fuck me hard, the whole car shaking from his onslaught. “For me to take you right here on the backseat, hm?”

The “yes, yes, yes” from my mouth is more moans than actual words.

“Fuck you like you deserve to be fucked.”, he grunts, the inflection in his voice getting more and more unhinged while he pounds into me. “Like a good little slut.” The light degradation washes over me, stoking my arousal. My fingers clasp over my mouth, moaning into my hand, while I struggle to hold on with the other one-

“Oh no no no, I need to hear you.”, he grunts, pulling them away from my lips, letting his hand rest on my shoulder then, using his hold on me as leverage to pound me even harder. The sounds that drop from my throat are almost obscene, drowning out the music.

With him fucking me from behind like that – he is so deep inside me, I feel his tip nudging against my cervix every single time, the intense feeling making me shake. The soft pillow of my asscheeks is softening every blow, but the slap against my skin reminds me that he spanked my butt before.

He spits, the dollop of saliva running down my crack. I can feel his thumb dragging the spit over my puckered hole, until he pushes into it, and the sensation makes my arms weak. The side of my face is getting pushed into the leather seat, my ass high up, his dick driving into my pussy, while he slowly pushes his thumb into my other hole, using the very same hand to pull my hips against his lap.

“Oh fuck.”, drops from my lips as he starts to also fuck me with his thumb, not at the same pace, slower, but the added pressure is driving me crazy. I won’t make it long like this.

I can feel how my thighs start to shake, the one leg almost dropping from the backseat, my pussy is squeezing him, the sensations of his finger in my ass- it’s all too much.

My toes are curling inside my boots that press against the nice leather of the seat, dirtying it up. His lap collides with my behind again, his length bottoming me out, while the digit inside of me presses down, just slightly, and I can feel the tension snap like a rubberband, the zap of pleasure getting flung through my body.

With a loud incoherent curse, I cum around him, pulsing on his dick and thumb, the convulsions shaking me hard. He’s still fucking me through the orgasm, the continued stimulation taking my breath away until I feel tears prick in the corners of my eyes, and I slump down into the cushioned seat, when he pushes into me one last time and cums too, his fingers digging into my ass, almost bruising the plump skin.

The next few moments are filled with our panting breaths and some song playing that I can’t recognize while my brain is still hazy with pleasure.

“Are you okay?” The first question he asks.

“Yes, I’m fucking perfect.”, I mumble I’m not even exaggerating. This was everything I needed.

I straighten myself up and he pulls back, almost hitting his head on the roof of the interior, and I have to clasp my fingers over my lips to hold back the giggle. He shoots me a look nonetheless and quickly gets rid of the condom, pulling it from his softening dick and putting both away, while I more or less put my clothes in place again, which is more difficult with arms made of putty.

“I’m sorry, I feel like I got carried away.”, he breathes, his chest rising with every breath, his hands reaching for me, pulling me onto his lap. His eyes are searching mine again, the same as last time.

My hand shoots up, cupping his cheek. “Don’t you dare fucking apologize, that was great.”, I tell him. The look on his face is painted in surprise.

“Mein Gott, I don’t know what I did to...”, he mumbles, hiding his face in the crook of my neck, the rest of the sentence getting swallowed up.

We stay like that a little longer, my fingers scratching over his scalp, caressing him softly, as he snuggles into me, his arm thrown around me like a weighted blankie. Music is still coming from the speakers in the car, ‘Love You to Death’ is currently playing which makes me chuckle to myself. I could have stayed here for hours, in his car, the scent of leather and himself engulfing me. The soft vibrations of the bass shaking the seats. Sitting on his lap, cuddled into his arms. The warmth of his body almost lulling me to sleep. The way he presses kisses to my cheeks and temples every so often. Little small touches, soft and tender.

“I’ll bring you home, okay?”, he says after a while and I nod. I pull my panties and pants up properly and climb into the front seat again.

I turn the music up louder, and ‘Sulfur’ from Slipknot is shaking the speakers while he gets in the driver’s seat again. I hum along to the song, sitting in my seat, looking up at him like nothing had happened. The way he’s looking at me, serious on the outside, but I can see the bubble of mischief in his eyes, and it makes a grin form on my lips, while I sing “like breathing in sulfur.” That pulls a laugh from his chest, and that hearty full-of-life sound makes butterflies flutter in my stomach.

“What?”, I ask him, grinning up at König.

He shakes his head, his grin at least as wide as mine. “Nothing. Everything’s fine.” He starts the car and mutters something, that I can’t quite hear with the music so loud. “It’s great, even.”

next part: sending him a naughty pic

~ More Stuff in the Masterlist ~

#metalhead!könig #she likes the dark #könig #könig cod #könig mw2 #konig #konig cod #konig mw2 #könig fanfiction #cod mw2 smut #könig smut #konig smut #cod smut #könig x reader #tw: age gap

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sweaterweatherever · 1 year

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hello how are you?, we hear a lot about how much the reader loves xavier's hands, his fingers, his hair down to his full lips (yes he is perfect ) but could you write how much the reader wants to mark that mesmerizing adam's apple that went up and down every time he swallowed his saliva or spoke to you.

Kindness (Xavier Thorpe x reader)

Pairing: Xavier Thorpe x AFAB reader.

Warnings: Vaginal unprotected sex. Possessiveness. Kind of insecure Xavier. AGED UP CHARACTERS

Requested: Yes. I have no clue what I just wrote, but I hope you like it, anon. I tried my best. Sorry it's short. I could have posted it later but I couldn't resist.

A/N: I mean….. I get it. Even I look at this man’s neck and feel the urge to kiss it, and I am not one for hickies.

You noticed for the first time when you ended up stuck volunteering at the Weathervane. Xavier and Tyler spend the entire morning glaring at each other, which you get from Xavier, but find it a bit rude from Tyler, considering he assaulted the boy, and now acts like nothing happened.

You had never looked much at Xavier, anyway. You were classmates and friendly enough, but he was Bianca’s and everyone knew it. He might be pretty, but it wasn’t worth the hassle. You weren’t touching that with a ten-foot pole if you could help it.

Life had a way of teaching you lessons, and it was never the easy way. That was what you had learned during your short stay at Nevermore. One act of kindness and you were fucked. You had just wanted to cheer Xavier up because he was moping around the Weathervane with a face that was more appropriate for a funeral. You were unable to stand it, this moping puppy routine. When it was your turn to man the machines, you slid him an espresso cup filled with leftover hot chocolate from an order, being careful, so Tyler didn’t catch on.

“Drink it fast.” You smiled at him. “Before the boss man over there catches us slacking.”

“Thank you.” Xavier looked at you, a hint of a smile starting to form on his lips. He had a sweet tooth, it appeared, and it didn't take a lot to make him happy if this was how he was reacting. You smiled even more brightly.

Xavier took the cup like a shot, throwing his head back, and you watched bewitched as his throat moved when he swallowed, adam’s apple bobbing up and down with the motion, that pale neck almost glistening under the harsh light.

You dropped your gaze, feeling like a perv for fixating so much on it, and took the cup back from him without allowing him to thank you. In a perfect life, in the one you are not awkward or socially anxious, you say something witty and he laughs. But this is not it, and so, you fled towards the coffee machine once more.

Xavier seems captivated by that one gesture of kindness. Maybe he was never shown much of it. You think it must be hard to live like that, not knowing what kindness feels like, grasping desperately to any scraps of it, until you can almost piece together what the real thing feels like, but never quite getting it. You have heard the rumors, of course. How he is after Wednesday Addams, how he would do anything to get her to smile at him. The same he was with Bianca, the same how he might end up being with every girl who shows him a modicum of human decency.

He turns yours not too long after that. All it takes is some cleverly placed smiles and kindness, the real one. And maybe Xavier notices the way your eyes linger on his neck every time he drinks from a bottle, every time he swallows a little, throat dry because he gets to have you, in any way he wants to. It’s his every wish come true because he might be willing to do anything for your smile, but you are willing to give him anything just so he can tell someone has.

It goes something like this. Your first times are all awkward. The first kiss, a bumping of noses that happens too fast because Xavier gets nervous he is making you uncomfortable and pulls away. First date? Xavier gets arrested. The first make out session? Gets interrupted by a teacher because don’t you see we need to do headcounts after the battle? The time you finally get to kiss his beautiful neck? You get interrupted by your roommate. Not this one, though.

Xavier bottoms out, holding still, pubic bone pressing against your clit. You have your eyes firmly focused on his neck, feeling the urge to bite it when he swallows, eyes firmly closed and focusing on his breathing just to let you adjust to the intrusion.

“Have you done this before?” Xavier asks, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. You look at him like a deer trapped in the headlights. You don’t dare move, too devastated by the way he is cradling you in his arms gently. If you could, you would stay in this moment forever. Even if you can't, you know it's already imprinted in your brain along with your favorite memories.

“Yeah.” You breathe out, slowly. “You can move, you know? I won’t break.”

That’s all Xavier needed. He slipped out and slammed back in, making you shout. You never took him for someone this passionate, this rough.

“Did he fuck you like this?” He asked, eyes closed in the sweetest form of torture. Another thrust, deeper this time. Your legs tightened around his waist, hands coming to grab his hair and pull him for a kiss. You moaned and felt him smile into the kiss. “I want to be yours. To be the only one.” Xavier whined, without pulling away from your lips, so the words came out all jumbled and messy. You could tell what he meant, even if Xavier was too afraid to voice it. He wanted to be yours, yes, but he also wanted to call you his.

“Oh, baby…” You nuzzled his jaw, feeling his breath hitch. “You already are. And I’m yours…” A particularly hard thrust at that, making your breath falter, making you gasp and grab eagerly at his biceps. “Yours in every way that matters. You are the only one that matters.”

“Show it to me.” Desperate, pleading. Prove it to me, that’s what he meant, but Xavier would never say that. He wouldn’t dare speak it aloud, afraid of scaring you.

“Come here.” You said to him, pulling him down until you were flat on your back and Xavier was bracing on his forearms on top of you. That perfect neck, there for you to mark him. You pressed a kiss to his jaw, slowly going down. Xavier kept thrusting into you, balls slapping against your skin with a sound that was obscene to hear, sweaty chest sliding against yours, sloppy, messy, like he wanted to fuck you senseless, watch his seed drip down your legs, erase the touch of whoever was there before. Erase whatever trace, whatever doubt, that could remain.

You get bolder, too. Every thrust was hitting the right spot, coarse pubic hair rubbing against your clit in delicious friction. You are close, you can feel it. But you can’t let go without reassuring Xavier and giving yourself a little treat too. Your kisses turn open-mouthed, sucking at the skin on his throat. It has to be painful, you know hickies are. But Xavier doesn’t pull away, he just offers more of his neck to you. Your heart beats so loud on your chest, you worry he can hear it over the harsh thump of your pulse in your ears. He needs this, and so do you. You had wanted to ruin that perfect neck since the first time you talked to him, and ruin it is what you will do.

You keep sucking at his throat, his neck, his nape, his shoulders. Any place you can reach, you mark. And by the time he thrusts, almost rabbit fast, one, two, four times, you bite down the side of his neck, hard. Hard enough to leave marks, hard enough to leave an imprint of teeth blossoming in a chiaroscuro of blues, purples, and ivory. Xavier comes, and you close your eyes, allowing yourself finally to chase the pleasure for pleasure's sake.

It doesn't take long after that. His hand goes down, rubbing againt your clit. He must be overstimulated, being squeezed between your walls the way he is. Once again, he doesn't pull away. Instead, Xavier muffles your cries with a kiss, and when you pull apart, he looks ruined. But that’s okay. Because sometimes, ruining someone can be a kindness in itself.

#my writing #xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe x reader #wednesday 2022 #wednesday netflix #xavier thorpe x fem!reader #xavier thorpe smut #xavier x y/n #xavier thrope imagine #cant stop thinking about the spelling anon #xavier smut #xavier x you #xavier thorpe x y/n

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heartfullofleeches · 4 months

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Remy I miss you I love you also. Titus. I love him and miss him. And also Nightlight reader. Babies. Beloved.

[I had am old blurbo with Nightlight and Titus I scrapped. Here's one for him and Remmy too]

Remmy finding Nightlight Reader at a thrift store while looking for more dolls to add to his collection of antiques. They're the most beautiful "doll" he's never seen- (anything that has a humanoid form and is made of plastic, wood, cotton is a doll to Remmy- even androids). He takes the android home - planning to clean them up and give them a comfortable spot in his room. When Remmy touches the heart on their chest-

"Powering on.......backup battery at 12% percent....Accessing memory...No memories found... error...error...err-"

"Ah!.. That was scary. Hm, where did I end up now? Oh! Hello, tiny person - are you my new owner?"

Remmy instantly falls in love seeing this robot pick up on the dolls on his bed and speaking to it as a normal person. "Um, actually..I think that's me."

"Whoa! Where did you come from? My apologies, owner - what should I call you?

Remmy falls more in love with Nightlight by the second. They're so caring, and warm, and they love to play with his dolls as much as he does. They would follow his every command as part of their programming, but Remmy hardly feels the need to order them around because he knows they'll never leave him and for that he'd do anything from them. Stays awake all night until nightlight carries him to bed making new clothes for them. Buys all the books he needs to repair any minor damages they might have - and completely erase any trace of their memories of the past.

All Remmy needs is Nightlight. All Nightlight needs is Remmy.

Titus is given Nightlight Reader as a present from his guards after finding the android in a landfill on earth and repairing them to working order- The emperor has been more irritable than usual- if he dislikes this bot, his guards pray that smashing them to bits will be enough to quell his anger at least for a time. The guards present the android to their king and wait-

"What have you brought to bore me with now?'

"We believe it is an earth made machine designed to relieve stress for humans-"

The emperor chuckles. "Is that so?~ I have been rather pent up recently, and it isn't a complete eyesore, but you are aware of our difference in size, yes? Are you certain it won't break on first use?"

"Er, not in that exact way, your highness. You see, they-"

Titus huffs. "Then what good is it?"

"Just....allow me to turn them on. Please place your finger on their heart, your highness."

"This is ridiculous...."

The emperor does as instructed

"Powering on....Battery at 100%...System rebooting."

"Mm....Huh? What a strange place... Are you my new own..er? Oh, owner- your stress levels are dangerously high - they're increasing by the second! Why won't I sing you a lullaby while you relax with your favorite drink? I know lots, but I can always make up new ones - maybe one about your pretty eyes."

"That..... actually sounds wonderful. I haven't had a decent night of rest in ages. It's humorous to me how you were able to figure that out in seconds when these fools have been with me for centuries. I think I'm going to enjoy your company more than I thought."

Titus cannot go or sleep anywhere which his little nightlight. Feeling their heated, smaller form is all thats needed to knock him out like a light. Nightlight Reader is restricted from joining Titus in meetings for that sole reason. This whole ass tyrant sits in his chair pouting like a child until he can reunite with his little love. Decorates them like the doll they are with jewelry and adorable outfits. Whenever Titus is in one of his rages, guards quickly run off to retrieve nightlight from wherever they're exploring in the palace

#yandere #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere x reader #yandere blurb #yandere insert #yandere x you #yandere scenarios #yandere oc #male yandere #Remmy my oc #Titus my oc #Yan

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brnesblogposts · 2 months

Text

wired autocomplete interview!

(repost)

pairing: pedro pascal x fem!reader

a/n: this is my first like irl au, i kinda rushed it just ‘cause I’ve had this idea in my head for so long and I couldn’t relax until I got it out. Also I haven’t written in AGES and it feels so good to do it! I hope you like it! I definitely plan on doing more Pedro x reader irl au’s ‘cause there definitely aren’t enough!

reblog if you enjoy it, thank you :))

—————————-

“Hey everyone, i’m Pedro Pascal” Pedro said enthusiastically. “And i’m Y/N Y/L/N” you stated with a smile. To be quite frank, you were a nervous wreck. This was, after all, your first interview of many, considering this movie was your first big role.

“We’re here to do the Wired Autocomplete Interview!” Both you and Pedro gave your best attempt at talking in unison, you were trying your best to keep your nerves at bay, trying the tip your best friend gave you and imagining everyone in the studio in their underwear. It wasn’t working. You scrapped that idea. On with the interview!

Pedro received the first board of questions, tearing away a strip of paper, “How old is Pedro Pascal?” he looked straight into the camera and deadpanned. “Pedro Pascal is ageless” you blurted out before he could cook up a response himself. He turned to you and laughed, “She’s right. I am ageless!” You both smiled at each other as he moved onto the next question.

“How did Pedro Pascal get into acting?” You listened attentively as he started to explain how his career got started. “(…) Yeah so that’s my story, there are definitely actors out there with more interesting origin stories than me” You slapped his arm lightly “Don’t sell yourself short” you sneered at him, he probably doesn’t know how much you look up to him and have since you were a teenager.

After a few more questions Pedro was done with the board, now it was your turn. You started peeling back the slip of paper, “Who is Y/N Y/L/N’s role model?” Pedro started staring at you, looking around the room and putting his finger on his chin as if he was deep in thought, you started laughing at his comedic act. “Definitely this guy called Pedro Pascal, don’t know if you’ve heard of him” you declared, “Aww, isn’t she sweet!” Pedro put his hands to his heart and pouted, “I love my fans” He said as he wiped a fake tear, you wacked him with the board.

“Who is Y/N Y/L/N dating?” Was the next question on the board, rather intrusive you thought, that’s nobodies business except your own. You struggled to find words to answer this one and it was causing your anxiety to flare up. “It’s none of your business!” Your head turned to see Pedro staring into the camera, he answered on your behalf and you appreciated it, he turned to you and smiled, reassuring you. You whispered a thank you under your breath and he nodded.

The third board was Pedro’s again, and he started peeling the slip of paper away, “Where is Pedro Pascal from?” It said. “CHILEE!!!!” He screamed “I’m from Chile.” He stated matter of factly, “As you can see he’s very proud” you responded to his antics. “I should take you to visit, you’d love it!” His offer caught you off guard but you kept your cool. “I might just take you up on that offer” and you swear you could see a smirk.

“Where did Pedro Pascal meet Y/N Y/L/N?” You had to think on this one, where did you meet Pe- “The first time we met was at an after party for a movie premier of a friend of mine, she’d just got into the industry and my friend told me he’d heard Y/N had auditioned for the movie I was gonna be in. I approached her and she freaked out” You punched him, he started laughing, “Yeah she was like obsessed with me or somethi- OW?!” You had pinched him in an attempt for him to shut up, this is not the kind of information you need to be ridiculed by for rest of your career. “Okay, okay..” he reprimanded “Yeah, so- after our initial meeting we started talking and got one really well, now she always calls me an old man so I don’t really think it was worth it” he joked. You both insulted each other, but it was in a best friend sort of way. Yes he was considerably older than you but he was a child at heart and so were you. When you were together it was dangerous.

Finally, after a few more questions you got to the last one. “Are Pedro Pascal and Y/N Y/L/N dating?” Why are people so nosy? You thought. Pedro answered professionally as not to misinform and start a whole internet drama, “We are not, we’re just best friends. Although, if anyone IS planning on dating her then you should know I’ve been going to the gym. Break her and i break you.” He said in a serious tone, in his defence he had been working out. The best he could, anyway.. bad back and all. “Yeah what he said! Except that last part- I didn’t tell him to do that, don’t let him scare you! And I’m not looking for anything right now, just focusing on my career!” You aren’t lying, you are focusing on your blossoming career, but you also couldn’t possibly date anyone considering you had a massive crush on the man sitting next to you. But that secret was for another day.

The interview ended and you took a deep breathe you’d been holding in. “You did so good!” Pedro exclaimed and hugged you, “I’m so proud of you” He knew you were dreading this interview, but you made it through it and now you could go back to your hotel room, order room service and watch Narcos with Pedro, (against his will but who cares!).

#pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal angst #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedrohub #pedro pascal fandom #pedro x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal au

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robertreich · 10 months

Video

youtube

How the Super Rich Are Killing Social Security

Here’s the real reason Social Security is in danger that nobody’s talking about.

It's not just because too many boomers like me are retiring. It's because of inequality.

Now, I don’t want to alarm you. Social Security is still helping us oldies enjoy our golden years — but only for so long.

Social Security is one of the most popular and successful government programs ever created, not only helping retirees — but it’s also keeping 26 million people out of poverty. Yet here is the problem:

It’s going run out of money before you can ever receive it if the rich don’t start paying their fair share.

The trustees of Social Security — of which yours truly was once a member back when I had thicker hair — say the program will only be able to pay full benefits until 2033. After that, Social Security will only be able to dole out roughly 77 percent of benefits.

Why? It’s not the reason that many seem to think.

Boomer retirees like me might be soaking up some sun, but we’re not soaking up all of the program’s funds.

The Social Security trustees anticipated the boom in boomer retirements. This is why Social Security was amended back in 1983, to gradually increase the age for collecting full retirement benefits from age 65 to 67. That change is helping finance the boomers’ retirement.

What did the trustees fail to anticipate? How much income would be going to the top.

A big part of the American working population today is earning less than the Social Security trustees anticipated years ago — reducing revenue flowing into the program.

At the same time, a much larger chunk of the nation’s total income is now going to the top compared to decades ago.

But income subject to the Social Security payroll tax is capped. No dollar of earnings above the cap is taxed. The cap in 2023 is $160,200.

So, as the rich have become far richer, more and more of the nation’s total income has escaped the Social Security payroll tax.

For example, a CEO earning $20 million a year pays Social Security taxes on roughly 1% of their income, while a worker earning under the cap pays Social Security taxes on 100% of their income. But they both end up paying the same amount of money into the program.

The rise in the amount of income above the cap due to inequality has cost the Social Security Trust Fund reserve an estimated $1.4 trillion since 1983.

The solution is obvious: it’s time to scrap the cap, and make the rich pay more in Social Security taxes.

One plan introduced in Congress would eliminate the cap on earnings over $250,000 and also subject investment income to Social Security taxes. It’s estimated that this would extend the solvency of Social Security for the next 75 years without raising taxes on 93% of American households.

This is where you come in. Share this video and help spread the word about the real threat to Social Security. If we want to ensure Social Security’s long term future, and that working people can retire with dignity, we must make the wealthy pay their fair share.

#youtube #Social Security #Video #Videos #Economics #Pollitics #Money

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lovesodakid · 1 month

Text

sworn to secrecy

chris sturniolo x fem!reader

2 3 4 5 6

summary: chris and y/n have known each other, pretty much their whole lives. y/n has always had a crush on chris. chris always viewed y/n as ‘nate’s little sister’ until one day, he realized, she wasn’t so little anymore…which nate sees..in which. he does not approve whatsoever. (“brothers best friend trope”)

warnings: slight mention of toxic household. shouldn’t be any more than that, if there is, lmk !!

____________________________________________

i groaned as i opened my eyes, fluttering them multiple times so i could adjust to the sunlight hitting my face through my window, lighting up my room and painting a beautiful orange-like color onto my walls from the early morning sunrise. i extend my arm out from under the warm comforter, to turn off my blaring alarm. i move to my side to look over at the alarm as it reads, 6:04am.

i sit up, stretching and yawning as i grumble a few breathless words as i place my feet on the cold hardwood flooring of my bedroom.

i quickly shuffle my way to my closet to grab some clothes to change into. considering it’s the middle of august in boston, it’ll most likely be warm today, so i grab a short sleeve plain white t-shirt and light washed baggy denim jeans. also, of course socks, bra, underwear, the good stuff.

today is the first day of my junior year. which means, it’s the first day of senior year for my annoying brother, nathan doe, and the triplets, whom i’ve known since i was at least 5 years old. i’ve grown up with them. i’ve seen them pick their nose, pee in the pool, and scream that girls have cooties into my face. i’ve witnessed them going on dates for the first time and their first sip of alcohol. i’ve seen it all.

nick is my best friend in the whole wide world. hes the one person who knows every single detail about me. when mine and nate’s parents used to get into fights when we were younger, nick was the first one to distract me from it. i’d bring my barbie’s to the triplets house and play with him, while nate played x-box with matt and chris. speaking of those two, im very close with matt. he and i bonded in my freshman year, when i was discovering what having anxiety meant, so was he. we kind of helped each other along the way, ive always viewed him as a second brother. chris on the other hand? not as a brother.

christopher sturniolo. the guy i’ve had the fattest crush on since the age of 10. below that age, i also thought boys had ‘cooties’. until one day, when i was playing tag with chris on the playground in elementary school.

flashback

i was chasing chris down the sidewalk that separated the playground from the grassy area at recess, when i tumbled over and landed on my hands and knees. which caused my knees and palms to be scrapped up. as i stood up, my knees were slightly bleeding, along with my palm. i guess chris heard that i stopped, he hurried over to where i was.

“are you okay?” chris softly asked.

“n-no.” i softly cried.

he gently picks my right hand up, planting a microscopic kiss on the back of it.“here, i’ll take you to a teacher. okay?” he says, slightly holding onto my elbow.

“okay.” i sniffled.

from that moment. i knew. i liked him.

end of flashback

i sigh at the memory as i finish getting dressed.

once im done, i put on a pair of air force 1’s, and make my way to my vanity. i opt on just putting on some mascara and lip gloss, deciding that i dont want to do a full face of makeup today.

i pick up my hairbrush, slowly brushing out any kinks or knots in it. once im done, i walk towards my bathroom, and brush my teeth.

“hey! are you ready? the triplets are on their way!” nate yells from down the hall.

“yeah! almost! give me 3 more minutes!” i yell with a mouth full of mint toothpaste.

once im done in the bathroom, i make my way into my bedroom, picking up my backpack off the floor, and grabbing my phone off the nightstand. almost as soon as i head toward my bedroom door to open it, i hear a faint honking coming from outside.

“are you ready? they’re here.” nate says to me as i walk down the rigid, old stairs of my house.

“yes.” i say as i walk past him, to outside.

i make my way to the minivan in my driveway, as i walk around to open the door behind the passenger seat. as nate and i get into our usual spots. matts always driving of course. chris in the passenger seat, nick in the middle backseat, me sitting behind chris, and nate sitting behind matt. it’s the ‘unspoken seat chart’ we randomly came up with.

“you guys ready for senior year!” chris yells loudly.

“yes. my last year in this hell hole!” nate exclaims.

nick and matt just say ‘yes’ in unison.

“what about you, kid? you ready for junior year?” chris turns around in his seat to ask me.

“kid” how i hate that nickname.

“uh yeah, sure.” i mumble.

“junior year really isn’t that bad. don’t stress to much over it.” nick whispers to me

after 15 minutes of chris’s loud rap songs giving me a blasting headache, we finally arrive at the school. once we walk in, we all split our ways to head to our first period classrooms. this year, i have english, so i make my way there.

once i get into the room, i head to the seat furthest in the back. as soon as i sit down, the bell rings, signaling it’s time for first period to begin.

“good morning everyone. my name is mrs. steven’s, ill be your english teacher for this year. now let’s go over…” mrs. steven’s speaks to the room full of teenagers.

i allow her words to trail off as my brain blocks her voice out. i hate school. how long until summer break again?

____________________________________________

a/n: okayy sooooo. i know this part is actually so boring and kind of short. idk if this is actually good or not so lmk if you want me to continue. in this story, the triplets and nathan are the same age and y/n is a year younger. ngl, i kinda gave up at the end lowkey, i just wanted to get this part out to see if it’ll be worth writing a whole story over, which i do have a lot a plans for actually. but it’s also 1:30 in the morning so im tired as fuck so.

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic

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yougottalovebuckybarnes · 2 months

Note

Hi, I’m so sorry that you have been having a hard time and that you can’t graduate when you wanted to I know that must be hard but you’re taking the time to look after yourself and that’s the most import thing!!!!

If and when you’re up to it I’d love to see a part 3 of forgive me, also maybe with a bit of Sam included? I’m a strong believer that Sam would 100% be on Bucky and Y/n side

Forgive Me, Pt. 3 (Bucky x Reader)

A/N: This request for a third part was from AGES ago, so I apologize for the long delay lol. On the plus side, I’ve finally graduated from college so that is no longer a worry! :) Anyway, this series will definitely be getting a Part 4. I couldn’t stop writing and coming up with more ideas lol. I hope you all enjoy!

==========

“Hate” had always been such a harsh word to me. Of all the feelings that existed, that was the one that I never could seem to grasp fully. Perhaps my heart was too soft or my nature too forgiving, but I had yet to find a person that I truly hated.

I could not even find it in me to hate Steve Rogers, despite all that had happened. Forgiveness was still a work in progress, but perhaps one day I would forgive him completely.

It had been three months since Bucky had found me in our bathroom with an open medication bottle in my hand, and it had been equally as long since he had spoken to the rest of the team. While I found it impossible to hate any of them, Bucky could not stand to even look at them. We had moved out of the compound within twenty four hours of his confrontation with Steve and hadn’t been back since.

Our little apartment in the city was comfortable, but it was not home. I knew that Bucky felt the same, but he refused to admit it out loud. Several attempts to urge him to reach out to Steve had not gone well, and my heart ached as I witnessed his anger consume him. Bucky had reassured me that I was all he needed now, but I knew deep down that he needed his friends, especially Steve. This anger would destroy him if not confronted properly.

And that was why I reached out first.

I found myself in a quiet little cafe in the city on a early Tuesday morning, sipping on an iced late as I watched people make their way down the street to work. The chair across from me scrapped on the ground, and I looked up to find Steve Rogers taking a seat. His face was solemn, almost shameful as his eyes made contact with mine. It was a version of him that I was unfamiliar with. The weeks of sneering and secret glares had melted away into shame and regret.

Part of me thought I should be content, seeing him humbled in this way. But I could not find it in me to rejoice in this. Steve Rogers was doing just as bad as Bucky was, losing his best friend the way that he had. There had to be a way to remedy this.

“Good morning, Steve.” I spoke softly, watching him evenly.

“Good morning.” Steve nodded in response, looking a little uneasy. “Look, Y/N-“

“You know why I asked to meet with you.” I prompted, pushing past the need for small talk to get into what really mattered. I was also quite honestly not ready to accept his apology either, if that was what he trying to do.

“Yeah.” He sighed, looking away briefly. “I don’t know what else I can do. Bucky won’t respond to any of my messages and I wouldn’t dare show up uninvited to your apartment.”

“That would not have gone well.” I agreed, sipping again on my beverage. “But we need to fix this, Steve. I’ve never seen him like this before. He needs you.”

“No, he needs you.” Steve replied, his voice remaining even. “And I realize that now. I didn’t know how much he cared for you until that night. Hell, I’m surprised he didn’t tell me that you two got married.”

“That really surprised you?” I asked with a slight scoff. “After how you all treated me?”

“I’m not looking for a fight.” He held up his hands slightly. “I’m just wanting to fix things.”

It was silent for a moment, and I let out a small sigh as I nodded in agreement. We were both in agreement for at least this one thing. While I did care for Steve and the others like family before this mess, all I cared about now was making sure Bucky was cared for and supported. In order to do so, we had to work together.

“Is Sam in town?”

“He is.” Steve nodded. “I’m thinking he might be able to help best since he was nutural in this whole thing. Just talk things over with him. If it doesn’t work, we can figure something else out.”

“I agree.” I glanced at my phone, seeing a text from Bucky asking where I was. I began to rise from my place at the small table. “I have to go now. Let me know when Sam can come over to see him.”

“Wait.” Steve’s voice caused me to stop and I looked over at him. “I…I never gave you a chance to explain your side of things, and for that, I’m sorry. I should not have treated you the way that I did.”

I looked at him evenly, my heart aching in my chest at the memories of the day prior to my attempt and Bucky’s hospitalization. After a few moments of silence, I gave him a sad smile. “If you want to know what happened, look at the Tony’s camera feeds from that day. The journalist stopped me at the front entrance to the building so you should have clear audio. It’ll tell you all you need to know.”

And without another word, I grabbed my purse and made my way back towards my apartment.

===========

Bucky’s POV

It had been odd waking up without Y/N by my side. That had been all but established as part of our routine, early mornings spent together in bed. But for some reason that had been broken on a random Tuesday, and part of me wanted to investigate why.

But her return only an hour later had washed all my worries away and our regular life routines resumed as normal for the next week. Part way through the week, Y/N had left the apartment to run a few errands so I was left on my own on the couch watching reruns of ‘The Office’. But a sharp knock on my door interrupted my plans of relaxation.

I approached the door, assuming that Y/N had forgotten her key inside after I had locked it behind her. But the familiar face of Sam Wilson surprised me as I found him on the other side. “Sam?”

“How’ve you been, man? “ Sam smiled.

“How do you know where I live?” I returned a smile hesitantly, wondering if the others had sent him as one last resort to connect.

“I saw Y/N on the street.” He replied casually, and my shoulders relaxed slightly. “She thought it would be a good idea for me to visit!”

“Of course. Come on in.” I stepped aside, letting him into our apartment and shutting the door gently. “I haven’t heard from you in months. Where have you been?”

“Long term mission abroad.” Sam sighed, sitting down on the couch. “It was quite an interesting experience. But not as interesting as finding out you moved out of the compound. What happened?”

I froze slightly at his words. “Did Steve send you?”

“Can’t I just be concerned about my friend?” Sam replied, scoffing slightly.

“I’m not saying you can’t.” I snorted, sitting down on the opposite end of the couch. “But this feels like an interrogation. I have had enough of those to last a life time.”

“I did speak to Steve, but he only gave me a few details. But I also don’t want to hear just one side. I want to hear from you.” Sam replied, glancing at me. “You two are incredibly close and now you live far apart from each other. What happened?”

All that had happened began to play again through my mind. The article published, the attitude shifts from the others, the gunshot to my shoulder, finding Y/N with the medicine bottle in hand. It was almost too hard to handle. But I willed myself to speak, telling my friend all that had happened.

“How can I forgive him for this?” I asked, my voice cracking slightly. “How can I forgive all of them for this? They did not give her a chance to explain herself, and made her feel like she was worthless. I could’ve lost her forever.”

“How does Y/N feel about this?” Sam prompted gently.

“She wants me to reach out to Steve.” I sighed, sinking back into the couch. “I don’t know how she can forgive him so easily, after all that has happened.”

“Y/N talked to me too, Bucky.” My eyes flickered over to Sam, surprised by his words. “She is worried about you, deeply. “

“I’m doing just fine.” I scoffed, but slightly concerned by his words. How had I not known she was worried about me?

“So you say.” Sam replied, almost skeptically. “Don’t you miss everyone? Steve at least?”

“Of course I have!” I bristle slightly, my metal fist clenching slightly. “But how do I move on from this?”

“I know you can’t immediately forgive the others for this, and that is understandable.” Sam spoke firmly. “But you can’t stay this angry forever. It will destroy you.”

“I can be as angry as I damn well please!” I snapped, glaring at him. “They almost caused her to end her life!”

“Bucky-“

“No!” I rose from the couch, a wave of rage flowing over me. “You don’t get it, and why would you? It wasn’t your wife!”

“No, but she is my friend!” Sam did not move, keeping his gaze steady with mine. “And she is scared that she is losing you, Bucky!”

“I need you to leave.” I shake my head, walking to the door and pulling it open. “Now.”

Sam clenched his jaw slightly but did not respond as he rose from the couch before walking to the door. Just as he was about to step through into the hall, Y/N appeared with a handful of grocery bags in hand. Her smile of greeting faded as she sensed the tension in the room. “What’s-“

“Please leave, Sam.” I repeated firmly, watching him leave before shutting the door behind him. “Why did you invite him here?”

“Maybe because he’s one of your friends and you could use a visit from one?” Y/N walked into the kitchen, placing the groceries on the counter before turning to me. “Why did you throw him out of our apartment?”

“Because everyone is insisting that I must forgive Steve!” I snapped, my jaw clenched. “I can’t even fathom how you can stand the thought of him!”

“Bucky, I still haven’t forgive him yet! It’s too hard!” I shake my head as I watched him through pained eyes. “But I’m not as angry anymore. You can’t let this anger consume you!”

“I heard the exact same thing from Sam.” I let out a bitter laugh. “I can be as angry as I want!”

“Bucky…”

“Did you coordinate this with Sam? Steve too?” I scoffed, not even hiding my anger anymore. “Why are you working with the people who want you dead?”

Y/N’s face went blank for a moment before her eyes filled with hurt. Deep hurt. I had never regret speaking as I quickly as I did in that moment.

“Alright.” Her voice was quiet, trembling slightly as she picked up her purse from the counter. “Dinner’s on the counter. I’m going to go stay somewhere else for the night.”

“Y/N…” My voice cracked as I reached out to grab her hand, but she slipped away from my touch and out the door, slamming it hard behind her.

I walked over to the couch, sitting back down quietly before the first tears began to fall. I could not remember when they stopped, if ever. Perhaps the anger had already destroyed me. And perhaps I had already lost the love of my life because of it.

=====

TAGLIST (from the last part! If you wanted to be added or removed, just let me know lol)

@missvelvetsstuff

@erinallene

@ladyalexandranna

@angelwatson

@buckyalpine

@ada728

@bwhitewolfbarnes

@kjah97

@ineverybreathofyou

@sarbear94

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky imagine #buckybarnes #buckyxreader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes angst #buckybarnesimagine

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cumikering · 2 days

Text

Neighbour Ghost x reader 7

2.3k | angst, drinking irresponsibly If Simon could do it all again (part 1)

“You don’t look good, sir.” The sergeant stood at attention, looking straight into his lieutenant’s eyes.

Simon had to commend the balls of Kevlar required to walk right up to him to point the fact out unprompted, but that was why he liked Sgt. Eric Jefferies the most. You had no time to waste when you raced with death on the regular - he would tell anyone they didn’t look good.

He knew he didn’t - it was the same bland face he had the pleasure to look at in the mirror each day. Annoyed, but not surprised by the darkening circles under his eyes, stark against his pale complexion. It didn’t help that he nicked himself in the jaw shaving that morning.

“Dining hall, sergeant,” he grunted.

“You’re barely eating, Riley,” Lt. Ramsay said, the same bloke who’d catch him sneaking back to his room. “You know you’re contributing to the food waste when you don’t ask for seconds, yeah?”

It was true, and the table chuckled, but Simon continued to shove whatever was on his plate into his mouth. It was enough to not starve.

“He never leaves his room anymore, not even on the weekends,” another lieutenant quipped, but was promptly elbowed by the officer next to him.

That, too, was true.

Simon had nowhere else to be, like how it always was before his mum came to Hereford. These days his flat was too empty and cold with the hole in his chest. He never came back after that night.

It wasn’t like he was thriving in his quarters either, but it was still a little better – at least it was untouched by you. Though his nights were dreamless at first, he kept waking, and waking until the dreams started.

It was a glitch in the universe, wasn’t it? That the memory that played in his mind to insanity was the last time he saw you, about crawling back to your door with limbs that didn’t feel like his, vision swaying with the lights, coming on and off, his heartbeat ringing in his head.

It’s not supposed to end this way… I want to try…

He sighed at another disturbed night. Tea would slow his mind. Instead, he found the box of Darjeeling you gifted him to take back to base. ‘So we can have the same tea over the phone,’ you’d said.

Was there a way to escape you, make you stop haunting? He needed an exorcism.

He put it back in his drawer. One day, it wouldn’t have to hurt anymore.

And the nightmares came back. It was once, then twice, and thrice a week of waking up in cold sweat in the dark.

Simon’s performance slipped. There was a reason sleep deprivation was a popular torture method. He requested sleeping medications - his career was the last thing he had and he wasn’t about to let it go. Any unrestful sleep interrupted by the vivid images his sickly mind conjured up was still better than no sleep at all.

Quitting you was impossible when the thoughts still followed. If pushing you away didn’t work, maybe basking in the memories would, even if it hurt more. Aching for your warmth, the scraps of it, he’d go anywhere you’d been to see your ghost. The pain was better than the void.

“You lads are volunteering at the soup kitchen this Saturday,” he announced to Sgt. Jefferies after hours.

“Saturday, sir?”

“It’s good for you. Reminds you why you’re doing all this.”

“Can’t tell me what to do,” he teased. “You’re not my L.T. on the weekends.”

Simon’s stare didn’t waver and the other bloke’s smile dropped.

“Copy, sir. I’ll tell the others.”

When the four burly SAS soldiers entered the kitchen, chatter and clanks stalled as all eyes turned to them.

“May… May I help you young lads?” one of the middle-aged ladies said.

Simon recognised her from his last visit, but he quickly realised this was a silly idea. He was out of place, knowing no one there.

He flashed half a smile. “Just wanted to give a hand. Got any lifting to do?”

The lieutenant and his sergeants hauled the food items to the kitchen, including the bread which he taught his sergeants to half and butter. They were offered to peel potatoes, but Simon decided it was wise to leave it to the pros instead.

People still avoided his gaze while his boys exchanged pleasantries with the other volunteers; Eric even got called handsome by the group of older ladies he impressed with his strength as he hefted the sack of potatoes. While the night was as pleasant, it wasn’t the same if you weren’t there to hold his hand and laugh at his jokes.

When the boys invited Simon to the pub at the end of the night, he said no. He thought he was ready, but even after weeks, coming back to his flat was just as sickening.

The silence pierced. Despite all the lights flicked on, the place made his skin crawl, the space too vast and empty. But he didn’t become a lieutenant from succumbing to his emotions.

As he lay in bed, he recalled that you too slept there once. That the mattress once dipped with the gentle weight of you, but unlike the bed that bounced back, you’d left a lasting imprint that disfigured his soul.

Simon wondered what you were up to, if you knew he was there drowning, miserable in his cold room. He couldn’t decide if he preferred your door to be closer or further: closer so he could catch a glimpse of you without meaning to, or further so he wouldn’t be so tempted to go over and get on his knees.

You said begging only reduced you to nothing, but for you, he’d beg and beg. There wasn’t much to lose when he wasn’t much to begin with. He was a stray for a reason.

He tossed and turned, and was granted a wink of sleep before the same bloody dream flashed in his mind.

I don’t care how hard it gets…

He sat up, feet thudding on the floor as he rubbed his face with a heavy sigh. It was always that one moment, like a broken record. Why couldn’t it be you on a night out, or kissing you on the kitchen counter, or simply, you smiling? It was a curse. If only the heart could follow where one’s feet went.

With no plans on coming here, his sleeping pills lay on his desk at base. He looked through the cabinets to distract himself, finding various bottles of dusty, unopened spirits he was gifted. They weren’t his cup of tea.

So he packed, to get his mind off you, from spiralling and digging a deeper grave for itself.

It was time for a change. With the accommodation he was provided, he never needed to rent, but he did anyway in case his mum ever needed the place. It was a good call he did, but with the divorce on the way, keeping it was pointless. He’d rather spend the extra money on his mum and nephew.

Yes, he came to remember- not to forget, but you wouldn’t leave, would you? In the dead of night, when he pulled the hoodie he’d forgotten about out of his wardrobe, he decided he’d had enough of his bloody flat and drove back to base.

He still had another weekend to before his next deployment, a two-month mission. He’d finish packing then.

“You’re right, sir, it feels good volunteering.” Eric grinned at his lieutenant. “We’re going again tomorrow. Also one of the ladies is introducing her daughter to Sam. See you there then?”

Never again. “Dining hall, sergeant.”

Simon was a fool for not finishing his lunch sooner and bolting, instead lingering for the announcement. With how atrocious he did on his tests, he must have been beyond high to still hope for a miracle, that despite everything, he still had a chance at a promotion.

He didn’t make to the top 3.

Amidst the wishes from the table, Lt. Ramsay’s turned to him. His grateful smile faltered.

Simon’s fists clenched. It was supposed to be him, his. But who was he to be mad. It was the fruit of his incompetence. He knew this was coming. Things were going to shit. The unforgiving truth was staring right at him mercilessly: he had nothing else.

He left for his office.

“Sir, sir!” Sgt. Jefferies called. “We’re heading to the pub tonight. Come with us.”

He gritted his teeth. Word travelled too fast.

“Let’s get out of the base for a bit,” he continued when he caught up to his long strides. “It’s the last weekend before we ship out.”

Simon eyed the display of vibrant bottles behind the bar as he listened to his sergeants’ orders, the names foreign to him. Above, the telly showed a rugby match rerun no one paid attention to.

“Jefferies, how much you reckon it takes me to get pissed?”

He chuckled. “You, sir? At least 10,” he said before taking a swig of his beer.

“Nah, 15 sounds more like it.” Richie, the designated driver for the evening piped up.

Sam downed his first two shots, hissing as he slammed the glasses on the bar. “Agreed. Do you know how much he lifts?” He nodded at Simon’s biceps, bulging under his loose black shirt.

It was a genuine question. Simon didn’t want to get pissed, he only wanted to forget. He didn’t mean to go over his limit he had no idea was at seven.

Drunk Simon was a weeping, blabbering mess. It didn’t help that he was massive, because his sergeants had trouble getting him to the car before Richie drove him to the address of his flat he barely managed to gurgle out before passing out.

“Sir, you’re paying for the bloody cleaning if you get sick in my car!”

Why did he think this was a good idea? He was never a drinker, barely even touched alcohol socially. It was the poison that turned his dad into a demon, and it too became his downfall. The only thing he thought he would always have – his resolve, let him down too. He’d lost you, his mum whom he was supposed to protect, his future, and now his dignity.

Desperation was a lethal sentiment.

And that dream came again, that he stumbled to your door. Legs wobbly, his vision in and out as the world spun in slow motion.

“Luv… Luv, it’s not supposed to end like this,” he slurred, the same line he always opened with.

A marionette, a prisoner in his own head, it was a loop he couldn’t escape. The awful show had to commence to end the same way each time.

“I’m sick of losing and I wouldn’t know what to do when you leave, after how much you’ve given. Instead, I left when you needed me. I should have been there for you, gone through all this with you, no matter how hard it got.

“If you would give me a chance, I’ll quit the SAS. I’d start all over again. I’ll butcher the carrots and apples with the bloody peeler, I’ll let the steakhouse mess up our reservation and eat a dozen soapy tacos… If you ever show up at my door with your pie again, I swear I’d kiss you, not scare you. And I’ll never let go. If it has to hurt, I want it to be you.”

The door clicked open, and like how it always went, it meant the dream was coming to an end.

“You make it worth it,” he muttered as his vision faded.

…

Simon gasped for air, this time staring up at blinding lights. He shielded his wet eyes, chuckling to himself.

“Bloody hell, I think I’m sick on the inside.”

“Only your past, but you are not your past.” Your voice echoed in the distance.

His body was too heavy to move. “Could you forgive me, for all of this?”

“Could you? You need to forgive more than you need to be forgiven.”

He laughed as another tear slipped.

Simon woke on his couch, still in his clothes from the night before. Dreaming of you always drained him, leaving him hollow and out of touch with his body.

He sat up with a groan, rubbing his face as the dizziness settled. He didn’t remember much after getting dragged to Richie’s car. Judging by the gnarly bruise on his arm, he probably fell last night, but he was glad he found his way back to his flat in one piece.

Stumbling to the shower, he hissed when his toe stubbed one of the boxes on the floor. It was a horrendous decision to drink so much, still having to pack the rest of his stuff. He leaned over the sink, staring at his bloodshot eyes.

His sergeant was right. He didn’t look good. He never did. What the fuck are you doing to yourself, Riley?

With his hair damp, he made his way to the kitchen. As he realised he’d packed all his tea stash in one of the bloody boxes, a series of knocks echoed in his flat.

He grumbled. It better be important for someone to disturb his peace, especially with the pounding of his head. He couldn’t be bothered putting a shirt on before he swung the door open.

It was you, a pie in hand like the first time he met you all those months ago.

“Hi, is Simon in?”

His heart lurched as he crushed you in a hug.

“Thought you said you were going to kiss me.”

@tiredmetalenthusiast @shadofireshinobi @keegansshark @two-gh0sts @eve-lie @lyenera @luvecarson @jaguarthecat @knight4xmas @unwrittenletter @mxtokko @reaperxxxxzz @footyandformula @opalesquegirl @audisive @sparrowgalaxy @fanficreblogs @strawberrystargal @damalseer @onlineoutcast @alright-i-guesss @maresoleil @mehjustalasshere @rrtxcmt

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baby-jaguar · 6 months

Text

CoD Western AU and Mail Order Spouse Trope

Howdy!

Welcome to my version of a Wild West AU & Mail-Order Spouse Trope. Introduction of the reader scenario will be down below and a little digital art will be added in to show our lovely options of spouses. This is Gender Neutral.

This was my first Au and trope project I’ve worked on. While I learn and decide how I want to upload this, I hope everyone enjoys or just gets a kick out of this!

Introduction & Backstory

Your life wasn’t awful, per se, but sometimes you wonder if you say that to yourself to cope with what you’ve been through. Simply put, you were your family's breadwinner, caretaker, and damage controller. You were poor-ish, where you had to use scraps of fabrics to make your clothes, but yet your father could always afford a bottle to be in his hand, and your mother out on the porch smoking whatever she needed that day to cope and try to be a mom and wife.

Coat of many colors indeed.

You worked, and you have worked from a young age to continuously support your family as you didn't have a choice if you wanted to keep the roof over your head. Although, you were thankful that your mother was adamant you went to the schoolhouse and got at least a good amount of education.

After attending school for a few years until puberty, you were in the working class; your job as a domestic servant included the taste of farmhand, tailoring, and working to cann fruits that were grown on the farm. After a long shift on the warm and humid spring day, you walked back home to hear your father yelling as usual but stopped when you heard your name being spoken.

“As soon as we sell that damn nuisance, we’ll be rolling in dough. I can’t believe that damn bastard politician wants our kin. Said once he’s back from his campaign up north he’ll come meet ‘em.” He laughs before taking another swig of his drink, your mother laughing along with him as she has a lit pipe in the house for the first time in a long time.

Now, you to truly understand the depravity of this; the seriousness of her celebrating with a lit drug inside the house.

Your stomach drops, nausea rolling over you at the thought of them selling you off to the old and decrepit wealthy politician for marriage to get money. Money that they’ll blow through, having never learned to control their vices turned addictions.

A cold sweat breaks out on you as you swallow down the urge to expel the minimal amount of food in your worn-out body, and promptly turn around and walk back into town.

Walking the dark streets, you navigate quietly and hide behind the shadows of the night with only a few dimly lit light posts flickering their oil flame light. While walking the edge of the closed shops, you see a dirty newspaper thrown on the ground and almost step over it until a small headline catches your eye.

“FRONTIER MEN, LOOKING FOR CAPABLE SPOUSE”

Your eyes scan quickly over the matrimony company advertising for men located in the frontier lands, each searching for promising spouses and wanting to marry soon. You read over the information, seeing that the listed men below are located in newly booming towns out west, a few even located in mining towns or having their own company.

Your body zings with a chill of adrenaline at the thought of diving head first into chance and change, but you knew something much better could be awaiting you…

Should you do it?

looking around, the humid and small town looks back at you as you enter a hardened state of mind; What would become if you stayed here? The disgusting politician's new toy just to break? Your parents are already planning on how to drain their funds dry within a month of letting their addictions take over? You don't have friends, your boss is the closest thing to one just because you spend hours each and every day working.

Yeah.

You're gonna fucking do it.

Taking a seat, your eyes quickly scan down the page of advertisements, looking over the small blurbs of descriptions offered. The correspondence cost would be 10 cents, meaning you have one chance to get his attention and get the new life you need.

Simon Riley Biography, Meeting Simon,

John Price Biography, Meeting John

Kyle Garrick Biography, Meeting Kyle

John MacTavish Biography, Meeting Johnny

Phillip Graves Biography, Meeting Phillip

Alejandro Vargas Biography, Meeting Alejandro

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shih-coulda-had-it · 8 months

Text

totally reasonable development to the American Dream plan, don't even sweat it

(and the 24+ sentences i owe to the pollers)

Toshinori bounces on his heels, feeling lighter than air with the anticipation of tonight’s activities buzzing along his nerves. He’s dressed in a dark hooded sweatshirt, denim jeans, and the sneakers Gran Torino had bought specifically for their high-quality rubber soles.

And speaking of, Gran Torino should be up on the roofs somewhere…

The front door to the Midoriya apartment opens, and Izuku slips out after a hasty farewell to his mother, which is paired with a lackluster promise to stay safe. Toshinori manages a single jaunty wave before Izuku shuts it, and then his attention is turned to give Izuku’s outfit a critical once-over.

“You don’t have any other shoes?” Toshinori asks, contemplating the red hue of his successor’s sneakers. The rest of the clothes are appropriately sturdy and dark in palette.

“No? Sorry…”

“Eh, it should be fine. There shouldn’t be a lot of traffic up top anyway. Come on, let’s move!”

They make their way to the stairs, but to Izuku’s obvious confusion, Toshinori leads them further up.

“Yagi-san, you said that this was going to be a special Basic Physical Fitness Training session,” the kid says. “Can I ask… who thought of it? You, or Gran Torino?”

“Oh, this is totally my idea,” says Toshinori breezily. “I know the beach clean-up is the ultimate goal, and it’ll stay as your focus before high school, but I realized today that there are some experiences that you just can’t replicate as a holder of One for All! Experiences that even our Quirkless bodies can manage!”

They head higher. Izuku gets more nervous, but gamely follows Toshinori up the fire safety ladder.

On the roof, Gran Torino greets them with a curt, “Boys. This is the stupidest thing I can imagine for you two to do, in the stupidest place possible.” He’s sitting on the ledge, and as Toshinori requested, two lengths of steel pipes are leaned up next to him.

“Musutafu’s perfectly safe,” Toshinori counters. “And with you here, Gran Torino, there’s minimal risk of, well...”

“Falling to your deaths?”

Izuku squeaks. He quivers beside Toshinori, and when Toshinori glances down, Izuku is staring at the pipes, aghast. “What are we doing, Yagi-san?”

“We,” Toshinori says with great dignity, “are training in the great art of parkour. The pipes are insurance for safety, supposing we see real trouble that a pro-hero won’t get to in time.”

“Legally speaking, vigilantism,” Gran Torino interrupts.

“But we’re not going to get caught.”

“Which makes you juvenile delinquents.”

“Gran Torino,” Toshinori complains, feeling delightfully young and unburdened now that he’s gotten accustomed to Torino’s incredible, mellowed-out approach to training Izuku. What trauma? What spars? Toshinori at fifteen didn’t know anything about that, and Gran Torino at his current age looked nothing like the pro-hero who haunted the end of his high school career!

“I’m enabling you, aren’t I?” the old man shoots back. “Don’t I get to express my own opinions?”

“Is it really safe, though?” Izuku asks.

“Of course!” Toshinori picks up a pipe, hefts it, and tosses it over to Izuku, who catches it while wearing a thoroughly beleaguered expression. Then he grabs the other. “Listen, Midoriya-kun. If it’s really going to be a year until you get One for All, then the American Dream plan can afford to be a little flexible! You want to be a U.A. student, right?!”

“R-right!”

“Then we can’t just train your body!” he cries, lifting the pipe like a torch. “We’ve gotta train your willingness to get into a scrap!”

A little more wobbly, Izuku repeats, “R-right!” And because his successor is more polite, Izuku turns to Gran Torino and executes a little bow, adding, “Thank you for letting us do this, Gran Torino! And for keeping an eye on us!”

Torino sighs.

#bnha #yagi toshinori #all might #midoriya izuku #deku #deaged at dagobah au #now that pipe wielding young toshi has been canonized #i GOTTA have them running around town. pipsqueak (nominally in toshinori's case) vigilantes #and their long suffering chaperone gran torino #gran torino: no officer i don't believe i saw any dumb kids taking down this burglar #and he's glaring DAGGERS at a dumpster where toshinori and izuku are hiding #anyways update to the au i'm trying to map out like four chapters #before i post the first #shih.txt #shih’s art

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songbirdtales · 7 months

Text

Keepsakes (AstarionxTav)

Author's note:

The more I'm writing the more this is turning into the slowest of burns. IDKY I'm eating up Astarion and Gale rivalry but its fueling me lol. Enjoy!

Tav sat by the fire with a ragged stuffed bear. The tattered toy had tears in several limbs and had been partially decapitated. Tav has some rags and a needle set aside as they examine the damage, mentally calculating their supplies.

“You’ll kill your eyes like that.” Gale stood over their shoulder, his arms crossed behind his back as he surveyed the scene.

“Good thing I’ve darkvision, yeah?” They offered him a fanged smile, the levity of conversation welcomed.

“Still, if you’ve need of, you’re welcome to use my tent. I keep it well lit for late night reading.” He was doing it again, this dance they’d been at the last few days. This dance of over generosity met with deflection when Tav would probe at his intentions. Sure, perhaps it was simply friendly companionship, but the dissonance in his words and actions made Tav feel there was something Gale wasn’t telling them.

“I wouldn’t want to keep you awake, we need you fresh tomorrow.”

Gale held his hands up as if he’d been caught in a crime. “No need to worry, I’ll be sleeping by the fire tonight. It’ll be empty regardless of me.” An arm opened to gesture back towards his tent. “You’re welcome to it as you please.”

And again they went. “Thank you, Gale. I’ll keep it in mind.” He couldn’t say much to that. Tav looked to their rags, then back up to the wizard. “Gale, could you help me with something actually?”

“Of course!” He was so eager. “How can I help?” Tav almost found themself pitying him. He wanted them so bad, and although Tav couldn’t deny there was a physical attraction, they didn’t want him like that, and they respected him too much to play with his heart.

“Do you have any scrap cloth?” Tav held up the moth worn rags, some had holes in the center with very little usable fabric, it made for a rather limited stock.”I’m trying to mend this toy I found in the village we passed through.”

“The goblin infested one? I hadn’t even noticed.” That’s what he was growing to like about Tav. They were thoughtful, even if they weren’t exactly a hero. They were a chaotic neutral soul from everything he’d seen. He didn’t mind that, but he found it unfortunate how they seemed to attract the worst kinds of characters, himself included. “I think I have a few pieces I can spare.” He nodded towards his tent. “I didn’t know you liked dolls.”

“I’m not sure I do, but mending things like this is familiar, and I could use something familiar right now.” Their eyes had turned back to the toy in their hands. They grabbed their supplies and stood, ready to follow him back to his tent, which is exactly what they hadn’t wanted to do. Still, they could keep this from escalating in a direction they didn’t want. Everything was still fine.

“I understand. I’ve been grabbing every book we pass. It’s the most I’ve read in ages. It’s comforting.” Gale said as they walked side by side to his tent. His strides were longer and quicker than Tav’s, Gale actively having to alter his pace and path to keep at their side. His body language betrayed his excitement, and Tav felt nothing at the sight but anxiety. Tav paused beside his sitting cushion as Gale stepped forward, kneeling into the tent and gathering some slashed clothes. “There you are,” Gale beamed as he handed the cloth to Tav.

The cloth was good quality, heavy and strong, but it had been brutally cut up in battle to the point it wasn’t much worth repairing. The blood had been mostly washed out but the reminisce of stains lingered. All in all, there was more than enough good fabric for their bear.

“You really took a beating the other day…” Tav mused as they looked over the torn robe. They’d not really thought much about how brutal the Gnoll on the road had been.

“You should have seen the other guy.” He joked back, laughing a little until he noticed Tav wasn’t laughing back. He quickly tamped the laughter down to awkward silence.

Tav offered Gale a soft smile. “I’m glad you’re ok Gale. You’re a valued part of this party, and I don’t know how we’d fare without you. So, do try to be more careful, yeah?”

“Of course.” He said with a nod, his eyes struggling to keep contact with Tav’s demonic glow. His gaze only turned up when Tav spoke again.

“Well, I better get started if I want to get some sleep tonight.” Tav said as they switched spots with Gale, his body naturally following their movement as if they were both being pushed by opposite currents. Tav got down and crawled in, sitting in the pile of cushions Gale had amassed and formed into a reclined seat. They curled their legs up, propping their supplies on their thighs as they began to tear the gifted cloth into smaller segments.

Gale didn’t leave, sitting down on the cushion outside. He grabbed something nearby to seem as though he had a task himself, but it was truly just an excuse to watch Tav work. Tav didn’t mind, even if they saw his act for what it was. Eventually he actually did become fixated on his task, the two working silently, fueled by the other’s presence. It was peaceful, familiar, like working in a library. Gale had no idea how long they had been at this, but as he pulled himself from his work to speak to Tav, he paused.

Inside the tent Tav was passed out in his pillows. The bear had been noticeably mended in parts, but it was not yet done. Gale got up from his seat and kneeled into the tent. His hand reached for the blanket, pulling it across the tent to gently drape it over Tav. A warm smile bloomed on his lips as he let them sleep. Only then would Gale leave, heading back to the fire.

“There you are,” The annoyance in Astarion’s voice was palpable as he approached Gale at the fire. “Where have you been off to?”

Gale knew the smell of jealousy well, and Astarion was worse than he’d like at hiding it. “Just doing a little late night carving.” Gale reached in his pocket and produced a small wooden figurine. It was crudely carved, but even Astarion had to admit it vaguely resembled a cat in a cat’s most basic shape.

Astarion stared at the deformed wooden cat for a moment before looking up at Gale with the least amusement Gale had ever seen from him. “Do you know where Tav is?”

Gale had to actively resist smiling but the faintest glimmer of a triumphant grin couldn’t help but pull at his lips. He’d cross his arms over his chest. “I do.” He said simply and curt as if he had no intention of elaborating. Anger twitch to Astarion’s face, and just as he was just about to speak, Gale spoke again, cutting him off. “They’re already asleep for the night. Poor thing, utterly exhausted. I’d let them be.”

Astarion’s face had more warmth to it than Gale had ever seen, the heat of his anger barely contained. “I asked you a question. Do not make me repeat myself.” That normally beautiful face was twisted and sharp as Astarion glared daggers into the human wizard.

The grin grew broader across Gales lips at Astarion’s posturing and he’d nod back over his shoulder. “I thought it best to leave them be.” He was so smug about it, as if he’d won some unspoken competition.

Astarion glanced over in the direction Gale had gestured quickly at first before realizing Gale had nodded to his tent. His gaze came back to Gale as a glare. “No need to make things weird, Gale. We’re all adults here.” If his tongue wasn’t so sharp, Gale might have noticed the projection in Astarion’s words, but both men were preoccupied with their egos. The condescension in his voice was cutting, leaving Gale speechless long enough for Astarion to turn sharply away and saunter off.

Gale sighed as the Elf departed, a wave of relief washed over him that his jugular was still intact. “Dramatic.” He finally scoffed.

Astarion was at Gale’s tent in a matter of strides. Still fuming, he knelt beside the opening of the tent and pulled the flap aside with his arm. The sight of Tav, fully clothed, dead asleep, with a partly repaired stuffed toy was not what Astarion had been expecting. Instantly the wind was knocked out of his anger and the fire of it died, leaving Astarion frozen. Any action he’d thought to take was now wildly dramatic if not inappropriate… for a moment he was almost aware of his jealousy, until Tav stirred.

A soft, sleepy sound came from Tav as one eye struggled to pull itself half open. Their arms were just about to start pushing themself up when Astarion reached out a hand. He didn’t touch them, but his hand hovered just overtop their back. They didn’t push up into the hand, they didn’t have the strength. They were exhausted from the near daily feeding.

“Hush, go back to sleep.” He urged in a sweet whisper as his eyes turned about the tent. Gale had this packed with all sorts of magic nonsense, but his eyes fell back to the stuffed bear. He was fascinated instantly, not because of the toy, but because of the magic radiating from it. They had pulled apart Gale’s bloodstained shirt for thread and stitched it in a way he’d seen before from the witches of Baldur's Gate, a way of hiding protections and curses in the stitch and weave of clothing. Though in this instance it was very rudimentary, Astarion couldn’t help but wonder how a tiefling bard knew such magic.

“Are you hungry?” Even half asleep, Tav’s mind was preoccupied with the camp, making sure everyone was safe. He almost admired that about them, if only for the wrong reasons. He was impressed that someone could have the willpower to keep all of this together.

“Not tonight darling.” His hand reached for their hair, gently shifting some loose strands from their face. He’d lean over to their ear and whisper, “Sweet dreams,” as Tav’s eye fell shut once more.

He lingered, hesitating, his eyes shifting back to the bear before deciding it was best to leave what questions it gave him till the morning. Astarion would wait until he’d gotten a few steps from the tent before letting his real thoughts catch up to him. He was hungry, but a boar would have to suffice. It would look bad on him to drink Tav’s blood while they’re passed out in another person’s tent, and he needed to keep appearances up if his very simple plan was to succeed.

The next morning Tav woke up early. Gale had aligned some objects in his tent to take the first light of dawn and amplify it and wake him, Gods did it work, Tav almost wished it hadn’t. They were groggy, vision fading in and out of focus as they crawled out into the sunlight. They sat on their knees and stared at the horizon in silent reverence for a time. Their thoughts swam with everything that had happened leading up to the blighted village; the abandoned temple, the grove. It all came back like recalling a vivid dream, surreal and fragmented, yet so clear.

They let their eyes close as the still cool air washed over them. Tav’s breath fogged in the morning chill as they let out a deep, tired yawn. Their fangs snapped as they closed their mouth and rubbed the sleep from their eyes. As they crawled back in the tent to retrieve their craft, they noticed something shine in the morning light. A single white hair. Tav cocked a brow but gathered it with the rest of the fabric and the bear.

Everyone was still asleep as Tav ted lightly towards and past the fire. Even Astarion was still in his trance from what it seemed so Tav went towards the river. As soon as their back was turned, a sanguine eye popped open. Astarion was silent as he followed Tav towards the water. He watched as Tav washed their hands and face in the running water before settling on a rock and pulling their bear back out.

“Good morning, Darling.” He watched them closely, the breaking of the silence practically made Tav jump but they didn’t hide their work. They’d been threading their needle and paused, tucking the needle into the bear so as to not stab themself with it on accident.

“Good morning,” Tav sighed in relief, a soft smile pulling across their face before their hand twirled in a flourish towards him. “You dropped something in Gale’s tent.” They held out the single silver hair between two fingers, offering it back to him. “You should be more careful with a wizard.”

Astarion scoffed and looked between Tav and the hair. “How do you know that’s mine?” The two stared silently at each other for a long moment, Astarion set in his flimsy denial as Tav’s hair was much longer, much more yellow, and much less curly than the strand in question. He’d groan a little. “Fine, yes, it’s mine.” A hint of irritation simmered in his tone before shifting into that arrogant sarcasm. “I’m surprised you’re giving it back instead of using it in your little curse doll, make me fall in love with you.”

Tav choked on laughter, doubling over as their cheeks puffed before their lips burst open. Their hand clapped over their mouth to muffle the sound so as to not wake the others. “I don’t need magic to steal a heart.”

They turned their hand down, ready to flick the hair away towards him but Astarion reached out to snatch it before they could. He didn’t keep it, brushing it off his hand on his trousers. Tav looked back down to the bear and held it up a little.

“Besides, these are for protection. It’s something my mother taught me to do. When I saw this in the rubble, I thought I might give myself something familiar to do. This one’s for Gale, since it’s got his blood and all on the thread.” Those blue eyes turned up to Astarion curiously. “I can make one for you next time I find a stuffed animal.”

“Don’t expect me to give you my bloody drawers.” Astarion huffed.

“No need for that.” Tav was still chortling as they picked up their needle to resume work. “I'll be honest the blood was dramatic of him, but I’m thinking of making one for everyone. Give my hands something to do while we travel.”

“Really?” His tone shifted as he leaned just a little closer, that perfect, sly smile on his lips. Tav knew a performance when they saw one, and this was well rehearsed. “Nothing else to busy your hands with?”

Tav knew this game, bored flirtation. It was one of their favorites, and considering there was nothing else to do besides fixate on the imminent fear of death, why not play along? Their hair swayed as they tilted their head, strands still caught in their horns and loose down their back. Their hair was long, past their shoulders and with a hint of a wave. “Yet.” They hummed in response, a curious look on their face, studying his reaction.

Astarion recoiling as a very confused “What?” come from him before he’d clear his throat. He wasn’t used to someone flirting back, normally they were too intimidated. “I mean, What about your uh, violin? Or is it a Lute?”

Tav backed off, their smile growing wider at his stumbling words. “I’m fine playing classics by the fire, but I’m a bit reluctant to work on my own stuff around the fire with strangers. Besides, most of them want to sleep as soon as we get back to camp. I'm not gonna keep them up.”

“Oh come now,” He’d put the charm back on, gesturing to the camp. “I’m sure Gale would be thrilled.”

Tav’s face soured, their nose scrunching a little as their lips thinned. “Yeah…” They didn’t seem excited by the idea. “You… never heard me play in Baldur’s Gate, did you?”

Astarion laughed and found himself a seat on a nearby stone. “Darling, I have no idea who you are beyond our time together with the rest of our companions.” Tav squinted as they caught sight of a glimmer of honesty. When he didn’t care about something, he had no filter, and in that they could see just a hint of what hid behind the mask.

An easy smile grew across Tav’s lips. “What kind of music do you think I make?” They asked with pure amusement.

Astarion stared blankly at Tav for a moment, blinking a few times as the gears in his head turned. “What other kind of music do bards make besides adventure ballads?”

Tav instinctively covered their mouth as they laughed again, truly amused by his ignorance. It drew Astarion’s eye instantly. “I mostly sing about grief and death, heartbreak and vengeance. It’s not exactly the mood I want to bring to camp.”

“It can’t be that bad.” He said as he crossed his arms. “Come, let me hear some of this emotional music. It can’t be that much of a downer.”

Tav rose a brow, his challenge wordlessly accepted. They reached into their back for a small book where they worked out their lyrics. “Here’s something I’m still working on.” They cleared their throat and began reading the lines like poetry. It was an eloquent verse, and very clearly described having dreams of murdering their own father.

Astarion was thrown off in a completely new way. The longer they read for, the more his expression contorted as Astarion tried to mask his concern. They only got two lines in before Astarion held one hand out and averted his gaze. “Th-that’s enough. I get it.”

“Yeah,” Tav was holding back laughter. “I don’t need to be playing songs like that at a time like this. I’ll get my musical fix by playing their favorites by the fire, but I figure it’s better to save the heavy stuff.” Their eyes turned to the sky, the sun was just about to peek over the trees, the morning star fading as the sky lost its pastel hues. “Never gets old.” They sighed, as the sun came up and the warmth of its light washed over them both.

Astarion flinched instinctively before letting out a deep sigh of relief. “No, it does not.”

They sat in the silence of the sunrise for a moment before Tav’s voice gently broke it. “I know everythings scary right now, but I truly believe that if we stick together, we can survive this. And if not, at least we’re free, for what it’s worth.”

“I think freedom’s worth everything.” His eyes were fixed on the water, watching the river glisten as it ran. The flashes reflected in his eyes, making them sparkle like rubies.

Tav let themself stare for longer than they should have, taking in the contours of his features, the shapes of his shadows, the lines in his skin. They didn’t care if he caught them, though he seemed too fixated on the water to notice. “So do I.” Tav’s voice melted into the sound of the river, so soft Astarion barely registered they’d said anything at all.

By the time he’d looked back to them, Tav was standing, holding the now fully mended bear in their hands. They tilted their head as they gazed at the bear, checking their work. They bit their lower lip in thought, as if trying to remember a forgotten step. Finally, they went to the river crouched beside the edge. With one finger, Tav reached to wet their nail, holding the drop in the carved point of their nail before bringing it to the forehead of the bear. The toy looked a little cleaner, Astarion could even feel the magic of it was more pure. The protection charm was complete.

“I’ll try to find you a different animal. Maybe a goose?” They said with a joking smile.

Astarion clicked his tongue, squeezing his still folded arms as he pouted. “Take your time.” He had no desire for a hagcraft charm.

Tav shook their head as they left Astarion at the riverbank. The elf glanced back towards the fire to see Tav giving the now well awake Gale the bear. He seemed more fascinated with the magic than the bear itself and began to info dump about thread based magic.

Astarion’s face felt relatively hot as anger gathered in him. He covered his face with a hand as his mind still raced from that one word. He didn’t like this, whatever feeling this was. He didn’t recognize the feeling as it gathered in his core, this twisting in his guts, as if he’d eaten something rotten, yet still starved. Was it really hunger? He’d fed that night and this felt different. He’d already made them his mark, so why was he starting to panic?

It was then that a new thought came to Astarion, what if Tav can see through his game? How well could he really wrap them around his finger if they knew it was fake? And what did that mean for the security of his simple plan?

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daydreamalley · 2 months

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The fact that there’s only one time in Chuuya’s life that Corruption was activated (outside of the lab) where Dazai wasn’t there in the aftermath and that was when Chuuya was just 7 years old and left in the crater of the explosion he created, in so much pain and with gravity probably still fluctuating around him. Nothing but complete destruction, hell on earth, and suffering for a seven-year-old child.

Chuuya is never in good shape after he uses Corruption, and I imagine he wasn’t in good shape after he used the full force of Arahabaki (and by used I mean when it was forced out of him due to Rimbaud). And like, we’ve seen Chuuya close Verlaine’s gate when he defeated the Beast of Guivre, and it left Verlaine close to death (though I also imagine that’s in part due to the fact Verlaine isn’t really human), and we also saw earlier on in Storm Bringer when Verlaine opened Corruption for only a second and then closed the gate that Chuuya was in agony, left to suffer in the hell of what was left of the street he’d been on.

That scene of Chuuya lying on the ground in what used to be an alleyway in excruciating pain is already hard to read, and he’s 16 then (still so young) but at least Dazai still comes (even though he doesn’t technically have to) and nullifies the aftershocks of Chuuya’s ability that are causing him so much pain. Causing him to suffer.

But imagine Chuuya at 7 years old, imagine how small that is, probably in nothing more than a hospital gown, lying in the rubble of the giant crater that will one day become Suribachi city, experiencing all that suffering and probably more. He’s completely alone in the hell of his own ability’s destruction, in unimaginable pain. His frail body that’s been in a lab for so long probably spasming with the pain as he feels the sun for the first time in who knows how long. And there was no one to hold him or catch him or for him to fall into. No one’s lap to rest his head on. No one to hoist him onto their shoulders and carry him away from the carnage. No one to nullify the pain he was in. No one to comfort him or remind him who he was.

What did he probably have to do when he woke up? Wait until he had enough strength to sit up, wait until the dizziness abated enough for him to stand, and through the disorientation walk on his own two feet despite the pain. He’d been through plenty of it after all, even if he couldn’t remember why, his body remembered.

He’d have to piece together any scraps of memory he had. His name probably came first. Then the horrific feeling of the power inside him and that he was probably responsible for the hellscape he was trying to navigate, cutting and scraping his bare feet in the crater of what was.

Find the corpse of some military personnel that’d been killed in the explosion Arahabaki had caused, far enough away he hadn’t been completely obliterated, and at least steal some of his uniform to wear, though it was much too big for his skinny 7-year-old frame. And the shoes wouldn’t do him any good, they’d just fall off, the jacket already kept slipping off his shoulder.

And then, in that moment, he was perhaps the loneliest person in the world. Not later, when he was 16 and had someone to catch him and someone had just attempted to sacrifice himself for Chuuya. No, then he had a semblance of a family. But when he was 7, that was when he was just alone, and in pain, with no one to reassure him that everything was alright, that nothing was his fault. That his destructive power didn’t make him less human. If anything, he was probably lucky no one with bad intentions found him.

And then who knows how long later, he’d wandered far enough away from the wreckage, under a bridge where a couple of other kids around his age found him. Still without shoes and in a military uniform far too large for him. Filthy and starving, but having the strength, having the courage to ask a kid “what’s that square thing?” “Tell me what that square thing is in your hand. Right now.” Last ditch effort of demanding, because somehow he still had a strong will. And the kid was just holding a slice of bread. Chuuya just wanted to know if he could eat it.

Like, can we just talk about the tragedy of that? How truly sad it is that when Chuuya asked “what’s that square thing” and the answer was just bread. Shirase just explaining“I was holding a slice of bread,” and then having to show him that it was edible. Like, my god. And then Chuuya just… faints, on the spot “like he was out of batteries,” as Shirase describes. Finally all his energy and willpower to survive depleted in this moment of hopeful safety. Shirase also says Chuuya looked half dead he was so skinny.

But at least Chuuya had finally found some people who’d given him some food and water. At least Shirase decided to take him to some shelter, even if it was in the sewers. He finally had people, even if they weren’t well off, they had something. Finally he wasn’t alone. And when he learned he had something to offer them in return in the form of his ability? Well, of course he was going to use it to help them.

Also, just, his first memory was of being alone and in pain. Where he is now may not be perfect, but thank god he’s come such a long way and has people and a home and food and luxuries. But like, he just has to live with that every day.

Oh, and mind you, all this was happening to Chuuya close to the end/in the aftermath of the war, which was already a bad time for people, as Murase talks about. He says “But it was the end of the war, and there were supply shortages everywhere you went. Some kids from the Settlement appeared out of nowhere and tried to sneak inside to steal some food.” So on top of Chuuya’s personal struggles, there were shortages of supplies everywhere, bad enough that kids were trying to sneak into military facilities for food.

So, yeah, this actually massively got away from me, into the territory of hcs and back out again. But like, every time we see Chuuya use Corruption Dazai is around, because he really has to be. And I love that. But just thinking about the one time where Dazai wasn’t around after the full effects of Chuuya’s ability and how that was probably the worst time and Chuuya was only 7 and alone and woke up in the middle of essentially hell on earth with like no memories. It makes me want to scream, and that’s why I wrote this. And then I reread the part in SB where Shirase explains how he met Chuuya and just got even sadder. Fun times fun times.

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amywritesthings · 3 months

Text

SILVER UNDERGROUND / deleted scene 04.

levi's pov #2. :: a deleted scene from flashback two. this is levi's pov of recruiting james to the gang.

happy silver underground friday! thank you for your patience as i write up ch20. i know many of you requested more levi pov content, so i give to you the initial recruitment (levi's version). this is unedited. 3.5k words / mentions of violence, angst, language, pining. :: please remember: this is additional deleted content, not tied to the current canon of the story.

Three years pass and she still won’t leave his goddamn brain.

The girl with the stale bread.

The girl with the kindness that’ll get her killed down here.

Maybe you're not even that kind — he’s seen how ferociously you take down kids double your size when he’s passing by with Furlan, keeping tabs that you’re still breathing week to week.

Not long after the one and only fight he’s had with you, Kenny disappeared. The son of bitch gave some shitty excuse — something about teaching him all he could — leaving Levi Ackerman in a deathly quiet room for the second time in his life.

Just happened to be alone this time, that’s all.

He almost came to you then, but thought better of it. Getting mixed up in that bitch’s affairs, the one you call Mother, wouldn’t do him any favors.

Maybe she’d up and ditch you the way Kenny ditched him.

Maybe fate would have it—

No.

Dreaming’s a waste of time.

He should keep his distance.

He should never try to speak to you—

“Hello?”

Furlan waves a hand in front of his face, waking Levi from a dissociative state. His steel gray eyes flicker up to the other boy, expressionless.

“I’m listening,” he curtly replies.

“No you weren’t,” Furlan mumbles, before flopping down into a rickety wooden chair.

This house isn’t much, but it’s home. Better than living on the streets, that’s for damn sure. Somehow him and this kid made enough money to get by and then some — but that’s probably because they’ve found the literal Underground City jackpot.

Two idiot MPs from the surface.

Two sets of Omni-directional Mobility Gear.

(The steal would be much easier than others think. Making the story sound impossible meant other thugs in the area wouldn’t ever try their hand at it.)

Crime’s a hell of a lot easier when you can fly.

Only problem now is that the jobs — and subsequently the money — are harder to come by. Furlan’s insistent on expanding. Levi has no interest in banking on trust beyond Furlan.

Until that idea hit him like a static shock—

All when he realized you were still fighting.

Still, after all these years.

“If you’re still trying to convince me,” Levi boredly starts, “then I might have a name to throw in the ring.”

Furlan perks in his chair, scooting closer. “Well, damn, you coulda said it earlier.”

“I just think you won’t like who I suggest.”

“Huh? Why? One of our guys—”

“No,” Levi cuts off. “Not one of the shitheads we split scraps with. I’m talking about a third.”

“A third… in command?” Furlan slowly inquires. Levi nods once. “So who is it?”

“A girl I knew once,” the dark-haired boy suggests, arms crossed over her chest. When Furlan squints, he continues. “She’s in the fighting rings. Goes by James.”

“She’s a kid?”

“No. Knew her when she was, but now she’s in the adult circuits.”

“So how old is she?”

“Maybe fifteen? Fourteen?” Levi supplies. “Our age.”

“Huh.” Furlan pauses. “And you… think she’d be good? Like how good?’

“Probably the best option we have.”

“Levi Ackerman talking highly about someone else… now that doesn’t happen every day.”

Levi squints in annoyance.

“Are you cool with me asking her, or not?”

Furlan makes a face. “Well— here’s the thing. If we just add her, chances are the guys we kinda fumble the numbers with will get jealous. We’d probably need to initiate her.”

Levi doesn’t mean to, but he glares right back. Furlan must realize right away that his partner is a fan of the idea — a reaction he’s never offered.

“Five people aren’t jumping her, Furlan,” Levi insists in a bite.

“I— three?”

Three.

He’s seen you take down people double your size and weight. He’s watched you put popular contenders on their backs in seconds. The kids they hire are just that — kids.

As much as he doesn’t want to agree to it, there has to be a compromise.

You can handle five.

You can certainly handle three.

“Fine,” Levi murmurs. “Three. She has a fight tomorrow.”

“Damn, you’ve been scouting this one?”

Something like that.

And just as he suspected, you knock them square on their asses.

Truth be told, it’s an unfair fight.

Levi stakes his claim at the corner, in the shadows, and watches the beat down in real time. All goons looking to show off like they know what the hell they’re up against.

They don’t.

Levi does.

When you scramble down the alleyway to get to safety, he takes off into a casual stroll. Taps an unconscious moron or two in the head to make sure they’re seriously out.

(They’re out, alright. Like a snuffed light.)

And when Levi finally catches up to you, you’re swallowed whole by shadow. Your hands are assessing each part of your torso — smart — while your breath exits in a controlled wheeze.

He’s sorry.

He really is, for once.

“You look like shit,” he comments, watching you rip your gaze from your scratched hands towards his voice.

Like a feral, scared animal you watch him.

Blinking once.

Blinking twice, three times, as if you’re trying to figure out who the hell he is.

Levi knows it’s not from the injuries. You were smart and protected your head as much as possible. He was banking on quick precision from your technique.

“Mind your fucking business,” you snap back at him, and he has to bite his tongue to keep from smiling ear to ear.

(So that’s what you sound like.)

“How bad did they get you?” he casually asks, stepping forward with a boot.

You blink several times once again.

Yeah, you recognize him.

Just like he recognizes you.

“Why do you care?” you hiss, pushing away from the brick wall.

Levi stops moving to give you space. “I don’t.”

(But, fuck, he does. He really does.)

Breathe through the pain all you want, he catches the way you wrap your arm around your abdomen as if he’s going to try and take you on at your weakest.

Maybe those bastards did get a good hit or two in.

“I guess the answer is bad enough.”

“Fuck off.”

“Sure.”

Except he doesn’t want to.

If you let him, then he’ll stay.

“You can leave, you know,” you tell him, and he draws in a slow inhale. “I’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, you’ll be fine so long as those shitheads don’t get up.”

Your head whips behind you to see the alley as if Levi’s spotted anyone.

No, they’re not actually coming.

In fact, you knocked them out so thoroughly that it’s a little bit funny.

Then you turn, and his stomach clenches. “I can’t believe you’re still alive.”

“I get that a—”

“Whoa.”

His heart seizes when you stumble. Immediately he shoots to the other end of the wall, ignoring the hand that shoots out to stop him.

“Hold on. What the hell are you doing?” Your nostrils flare. “I said I’m fine.”

Damn it, James. Don’t be proud right now.

“Yeah, and I”m six-foot fucking three.”

And he steps closer.

Closer.

Until the expanse of his chest hovers right at your palm.

Well — you aren’t trying to beat the shit out of him. That’s a plus.

You really do remember me, that sad sack of shit you were nice to.

“Roxy’s is close,” Levi slowly states, hoping you’ll connect what he’s thinking about. That you’ll get to where he’s trying to go with this before he has to spell it out.

“I know.”

“They have back rooms with supplies.”

“I know.”

“So why not go?” he grunts, very much over the bravado he’s very much guilty of himself. “C’mon, dumbass.”

You squeak, but it’s too late — Levi breaks that illusion of distance with a smack of your outstretched hand so he can get to the part he’s been agonizing over all day.

Helping you.

Because he sure as hell isn’t going to let you go through this alone.

(Not when he’s practiced this pitch for a week straight.)

You don’t push him away when he touches you. Hell, you just stare — Levi’s worried he has something in his goddamn teeth.

Then you ask. “Why?”

Surely you know.

Surely by now, you must know the why of this.

Because I owe you.

Because you have left my fucking brain since the day you asked my name.

Levi answers. “Because.”

Cautious with every step, Levi lets you call the pace. You’re surprisingly mobile all things considered, and he just acts as your anchor as you make your way through the winding rounds of the Underground City.

“You have a key?”

He has to force himself not to snort. “No.”

The staff at Roxy’s will forgive him.

Or not — he doesn’t give a shit.

Gingerly placing you against the wall, he musters up the energy to use the strength of his short but mighty legs. Levi kicks the wooden door with gusto, waiting a moment for the noise to dissipate, before grabbing you again to continue on.

Eventually he places you on a nearby chair and brushes off his hands, coated with sweat.

What the hell, Ackerman? Get your shit together. Now’s not the time to get nervous.

Especially over you.

God, not when he’s almost got you.

You’re too busy staring at the disjointed door to notice his expression soften when he’s staring at your face.

It’s so… pretty.

Why is it—

Wait.

“Oi.”

He snaps, and you blink and turn your chin back to him. All the air whooshes clear from his lungs.

You’re worried. He can tell.

“Eyes on me. They aren’t coming.”

“What makes you so sure?”

(God, he’s such an asshole.)

Choosing to ignore the question, Levi keeps himself busy by searching the cabinets in the room for the med packs he knows they keep here. Way too many wayward souls pass through. They always got some—

Ah.

There.

Turning on a heel, he eagerly brings the med kit and unfurls it, holding it to you.

You stare back, not moving.

(You don’t have a concussion, do you?!)

“What do you want me to—”

“Hold it, idiot,” he snips in his own minor panic. “I can’t do everything.”

Please let me fix my own mistakes, James.

Your hands uncurl like a clam, waiting for the med kit. Levi carefully places it in your hands and takes what he needs.

“I don’t understand,” you murmur. “Why are you doing this?”

Taking a cloth, he douses it with antiseptic and presses it ever so gently on your skin.

You don’t even flinch.

“Levi.”

Time freezes.

His gray eyes meet yours, and suddenly he forgets to breathe.

You remember.

He never told you, but —

He’s pretty sure Kenny may have said it back at this godforsaken fucking bar.

Should he tell you he remembers you, too?

(You never told him your name. He’ll show all of his cards in one fell swoop.)

“Does it matter?” he gruffly responds, pressing the cloth to your cheek.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s harder to help than to ignore.”

“Kind of like giving bread to a strange kid, right?”

Shit.

Levi blurts before he can take it back.

This wasn’t how he thought this would go.

Banter here and there, maybe, but—

“I don’t know,” you finally answer. “I’m not a saint for giving you food.”

Of course you’re not.

Saint James, the patron deity that hasn’t left his mind since.

Levi’s nostrils flare as he dips lower, too afraid to touch your torso. “I could have killed you — broken?”

“Bruised,” you reply. “I’ve felt broken before.”

“Positive?”

“Yes. And I was trying to kill you back then, too. It wasn’t our fault.”

Were you?

Trying to kill him?

Makes sense, with how hard you went at him. It was the only match he felt nervous in.

“I wasn’t trying to,” Levi woefully answers.

“But you could have.”

His fingers pause for a fraction of a second. “Yeah,” he laments. “I could have.”

Just like tonight.

And just like every night after this, if you tell him yes to his bullshit plans.

“I thought maybe something happened to you,” you begin. “I never saw you on the circuit again, so I thought—”

“That was the first and only time I fought in that nasty shit.”

He pushes back his own fears and tips your chin upward. You easily obey.

“...so you weren't sold into it?”

Shit, was she? Too preoccupied by the feeling of how soft your skin is, Levi shakes his head.

“I was your only fight?”

“Technically,” he says.

“So then why were you—”

“Practice, in case I ever met someone who needed to kill me for quick cash.”

“That's a morbid reason. You were just a kid.”

“So were you, but for some reason you’re still in it.”

Gritting his teeth, he knows his temper is getting the best of him. It’s better to stay neutral in these types of talks but you… you’re so nonchalant about something so dire.

You could die.

Hell, he’s spent week after week hoping to hear your name so he’d hear you’re still alive.

Choosing to let that go, he drops his hands away from your face and flexes his fingers.

“Good news: you look like shit, but you’re not in deep shit. I can’t do anything about your ribs, but your face should be fine. You have a bad habit of leaning into your hits.”

It’s true. It’s like she likes getting hurt, as if it fuels her own rage.

A strategy, sure, but a shit one at that.

“Excuse me?” you growl. “What do you mean, I have a bad habit?”

Levi can’t help but give you a look. “Did those shitheads make you hard of hearing, too?”

“No, shithead," you mock right back and it’s actually… impressive. You keep up. It does something weird and unenjoyable to his stomach. “I don't lean into them."

“Yes, you do.”

“What, so you’ve watched my fights?”

Ah, shit.

Found out, yet again.

(Great job, Ackerman.)

“I watch fights. Not just yours,” Levi quickly retorts. “You're not special, so get your head out of your ass.”

“Oh fuck you, man.”

Damn, you really do speak his language.

Don’t smile, don’t smile, don’t—

And you don’t give up, either. “Leaning into them makes an opponent feel like they have the upper hand. Let them hit, then you strike.”

“It’s a shit strategy.”

“I’m smaller than a lot of my opponents.”

“So?"

“So? Coming out to a fight like you own the place puts a target on your back.”

Right.

Self-preservation, a tactic often used by the pimps who bring these poor kids to the rings. It’s a loophole to make sure your fighters don’t know their own worth so they can’t wail on you.

Kenny told him that.

Levi wishes he could have told her, too.

“Did your Mom teach you that?” he flatly responds.

Your nostrils flare. “Maybe she did, but your Dad sure as hell forgot to teach you manners.”

He snaps faster than he means to. “He wasn’t my father.”

A beat passes, and his shoulders slump.

“And you’re a better fighter than that,” he softens, exasperated. “Making yourself look weak is a shitty strategy for someone who can't land a punch, let alone someone who can. You take the punches because you damn well know you're better than every opponent they match you with. If you didn’t play the theatrics, then those idiots would all be dead in minutes.”

When you don’t spit in his face, he gently takes a step forward. Then another.

“I met you three years ago. I thought by now you would've found a way out."

But you need help.

This is his return payment. This is all he can offer in this shitstain of a city.

“Do you want out?” Your eyes widen, like he’s told you he’s secretly the king of the Walls. His tongue gently darts between his dried lips. “...if I had a way to get you out, would you take it?”

“...I don’t have a way out.”

“You do.”

“I don’t,” you croak, and it breaks his heart. “I’ve tried. You know people in the circuits—”

“You have a way out."

“Levi—”

“James.”

In defeat, he calls to you — your name, that name everyone else calls you.

All of his cards are on the table.

He can’t take this back.

“This isn’t a charity hand out. We need a fighter.”

“Who the hell is we?”

“Furlan Church and myself.”

“Furlan fucking Church? That’s where you ended up after all this time, with that idiot?”

Levi blinks.

(Wait, what’s wrong with Furlan?)

Nevermind — he’ll ask later. He has a mission here.

“If you stay in the circuits, then you will die,” Levi finally states. “That bitch has been trying to put you in the ground for years. Do you really want her to win?”

Please say no.

Please listen to me.

Except you stagger backwards, and he’s terrified that somehow he’s botched this pitch. That somehow you wouldn’t be interested in a team—

“Wait — did you send those guys after me?”

Oh.

Shit.

“The three in the alleyway,” you continue. “They attacked me after the fight. It was really convenient of you to find me in the nick of time. So was that one of his initiation stunts?”

He wants to swear he was going to tell you, but that would sound like a cheap lie.

He wants to promise this wasn’t what he wanted, but that would sound like a patronizing lie.

“Dirty trick,” you growl and turn away, and worries seizes his heart.

“We need muscle for our next heist,” he quickly states, firming up his voice. “You would get a cut. You would have a permanent place to sleep. You would have routine meals, day and night."

You don’t turn to him. “I’d be selling myself for one contract to another.”

Levi shakes his head wildly, but you don’t see it. “You're free to leave whenever you want. If this doesn't work out in a week? Fine, then you can go. But if you do this, then you would never have to see that woman’s face again.”

“She’d find me.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” he swears.

No, he wants to say. I’ll burn this city to the ground if she so much as tries it. I owe you.

“You would be protected with me.”

But it isn’t just him.

You had a visceral reaction about Furlan. He has to be honest.

"With us."

Finally you turn back to him, and he’s woefully hopeful once more.

“Levi…”

The way you say his name…

Shit, he could hear you say his name like that every hour of every goddamn day if you’d just say yes to this deal he’s offering.

"You'll be paid,” he adds.

"I don't give a shit about pay,” you retort. “I have no money to my name as it is. Your... proposition just sounds too good to be true, that's all."

He needs more incentive.

He needs you to say yes.

"What do you need to be convinced?” he pleads, but it comes out monotone. “We sent our three best brawn and you cleared them in minutes. You can see why we'd want you."

"And if I say no?"

Fear seizes every cell of his body. You stare at him like he’s the enemy.

“Are you two going to keep sending people after me?”

(Would he finally stop searching for you?)

Swallowing, Levi knows he cannot keep you.

He barely knows you.

He just has a feeling he needs to.

“No,” he promises. “I'd let you live your life. This isn't an intimidation tactic. You would never hear from me again.”

And he means it.

He’ll give you anything for nothing.

It’s some kind of sickness he hasn’t quite recovered from since he was small.

Something about you has just infected his veins faster than the plague.

You turn your gaze to the door, and his face falls.

What can he do?

How can he convince you?

Your name exits his mouth in a fractured plea. “James—”

“I’m in.”

Wait.

Did he hear that right?

You turn back to him with determination, chin lifted and shoulders squared.

He can’t help but stare at you with a mixture of relief and admiration.

Levi wonders if you notice. If you know, just how much you’ve been on his mind.

“I’m in,” you repeat. “I’ll go where you go.”

(And we'll never look back.)

#levi ackerman x reader #levi x you #levi x reader #levi ackerman x you #aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction #fic: silver underground #amys deleted scenes.

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