Liv ☾༶˚۰* | late-20s (derogatory) | she/her
multifandom: aot + hq + jjk + bnha + more (there will be SPOILERS)
MINORS + AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT FOLLOW/INTERACT, PLEASE PUT AGE IN BIO OR PINNED POST. DO NOT RECOMMEND MY WORK ON TIKTOK.
minors/ageless blogs will be blocked, please read my rules before you follow.
my writing tag is #writing, and my masterlists are a year (approx. 200 fics) out of date—if you're looking for something in particular, you'll most likely find it there, or under the #(character) x reader tag!
rules
masterlist
playlists
ko-fi
ao3
love always, liv - please do not quote, repost, or translate any of my work.
BAD HABIT - YAKUZA!SUNA x ESCORT!READER - MASTERLIST
18+ NSFW - MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT
tags: drabble series, suna rintarou/f!reader, tw sex work, organized crime!au, explicit content related to prev tags will be present, please read the tags on each part.
bad habit - 1k - you criticize suna for his bad habit, but you're not really in any position to judge.
a room with a view - 2.7k - a change in schedule is met with a change in scenery, too. home is where the heart is, etc.
who? - 2.9k - PREQUEL - a very important guest is paying an unexpected visit to the club, but you're determined not to make that your problem.
her - 2.3k - PREQUEL P.2 - it's your problem.
two-faced - 2.3k - set in the morning after part 2 - a wake up call you aren't anywhere close to being appropriately dressed for.
go - 2k - atsumu starts a fight with suna, but kita is the one who ends it.
odd that you’d mention percolate rn bc like 2 hours ago i was in the break room at working debating which ao3 fic to reread and i settled on percolate. there’s something in the air methinks
i can't explain the science behind it but listening to sombr is a rly similar experience to hooking up with an ex because i don't feel good about it and i refuse to tell anyone i care about that it's happening again
There's an arm tight around your waist when you wake. It's heavy and familiar. It pulls you a little closer as your return to consciousness becomes known.
"G'morning," you mumble, rubbing at your eyes with the point of your knuckle. You blink, once and then twice, as the waking world comes back into focus and takes the shape of a new day.
"Morning."
Levi's voice is always so raspy in the morning. So low and rough. You shiver a little at the sound, but hide it in a stretch–your movement stunted by the hold he has you in, pulled to his bare chest.
"What did you dream about?" you ask him sleepily, rolling over so you're facing his way. He lets you move freely, but keeps his arm over you, and you prop your chin in your hand once you're laying on your tummy. You watch him as he watches you.
"Dunno," he says indifferently. "You know I don't ever really remember stuff like that."
You scrunch up your nose, having expected the answer but being no less disappointed by it.
"What did you dream about?" he turns your question back to you.
"Got a boob job."
Levi's eyes widen in surprise and his lip curls in distaste.
"Why the hell would you dream about that?" he grunts derisively, almost sulking.
"Who knows," you shrug as much as you can given your position. "You loved 'em though."
Levi takes your face in his hand and squishes your cheeks together until your lips purse. His expression is surprisingly severe as he looks you in the eyes. "Don't even joke about that. I like them exactly as they are."
He leans forward and presses a kiss to your forehead, your lips still puckered thanks to his grip. He lets your face go after a moment, and then pushes himself up to slip out of bed, shuffling off towards the bathroom down the hall.
You lay back in Levi's bed for a moment, flopping down with your face pressed in the pillows. They smell like him: like his soap, and his beloved laundry detergent whose brand he's so loyal to he buys it in bulk and keeps stacked at the back of his closet.
Down the hall, you hear the tap running as he washes his face, just like he does first thing every morning. The next thing you hear is the medicine cabinet open as he retrieves his blue toothbrush, kept in a little storage holder next to the yellow toothbrush he'd bought for you a few weeks ago to replace the pink one he'd bought you before that.
You lay there, peacefully listening to the motions of his morning routine step-by-step, until eventually he comes shuffling out again in his slippers and heads towards the little kitchen on the other side of his bachelor apartment.
Next is the kettle, filled with enough water for him to have tea and you to have coffee, then onto the electric base to boil.
"Get up, lazy."
You smile into his pillow as he calls to you.
"Don't wanna," you say, rolling over onto your back so he can hear you clearly.
"You have work," he reminds you, though he really doesn't need to–you're as aware of the fact as he is. You groan defeatedly, pushing yourself upright.
Levi looks over at you from the kitchen where he's preparing two mugs–one with looseleaf tea in a steeper, the other with a single-cup percolator resting overtop, waiting to be filled. He watches as you stretch your arms up over your head, the hem of the long-sleeved shirt he'd loaned to you the night before lifting from the motion. Your muscles ache a little, not in an unpleasant way, and you're still a little stiff from sleep.
You roll yourself out of bed and into the kitchen after him.
"What are you gonna have for breakfast?" he asks, the kettle shutting off automatically as it comes to temperature. Levi has one of those kettles where you can choose the automatic shut off temperature because–in his own words–he'd rather drink nothing than drink badly made tea.
"I want that pie from last night," you say, reaching for the door of the refridgerator to retrieve the very pastry you speak of. The two of you had stopped at a diner for dinner after a long day, and you'd lost your motivation to eat dessert but brought a slice of apple pie home with you for later. Levi stops you with a strong arm hooked around your waist.
"You can't eat pie for breakfast."
You pout. "Why not?"
Levi huffs indignantly through his nose, like it pains him to even dignify your question with an answer.
"You need to eat something with some nutritional value to start the day."
"There's fruit in it!" you argue uselessly.
"No."
You fight weakly against his hold, reaching out towards the appliance he works to keep you from. "But I want pie."
Levi finally lets you go with a long, world-weary sigh, knowing that his water is going cold.
"I bought you jam," he grumbles, pouring the kettle delicately over the mug waiting for him at the counter. "If you insist on starting the day with sugar at least have it on some toast."
You open the door to the refridgerator and sure enough on the door beside his usual condiments there's a little bottle of jam waiting for you. The same brand you always keep in your own fridge for yourself. You smile, plucking it out, eying the takeout container with your apple pie a little wistfully before letting the door swing shut behind you.
You creep up next to Levi at the counter, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he pours the hot water over the coffee filter waiting over your favourite mug.
"Thanks for the jam," you murmur into the soft, warm skin of his cheek.
"Yeah, yeah," he says dismissively, nudging the loaf of multigrain bread in front of him towards you with his free hand. It's the really seedy, healthy kind your mom is always telling you to buy because it's high in plant sterols and good for your heart. You expected nothing less. "Just make your toast."
You know he wouldn't have stopped you even if you ate the pie.
You know he still would have made you your coffee and driven you to work and kissed you goodbye when he told you to have a nice day.
The same as always. Never changing. Because he likes you exactly as you are.
But you just laugh and do as you're told, and make his life a little bit easier–if only just for once.
nothing does it for me like the ‘surprise! this character that you thought was a beta or maybe even an omega is actually an alpha and they’re really really into you. good luck!’ omegaverse trope
kakashi tries to mark you. he really does. he yearns to give you the thing you want so badly. every time you beg him in the throes of heat, he's powerless to refuse you. but it's not in the way he should be. it's not his instinct that tells him to bare his teeth and break the skin—not a primitive, biological drive—it's his heart. and for a few days the two of you stay tangled up together in soft sheets and a blissful, fleeting peace. but the bite mark fades. and you both pretend you weren't hoping that this time it would last.
