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imaginepirates · 9 months

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Beck and Call

The reader is an employee of Beckett's, working as an entertainer to gather information at social events. While getting a little too close to clientele for Beckett's taste, you're pulled off to an unoccupied room so he can remind you exactly who's in charge. Of course, things get frisky from there.

Please note that the reader is fem. Also know that the fic features a heated makeout session and strip-tease, but no full nsfw content.

@emdrabbles @tesserphantom @viper-official @hellspawn-brownies @groovy-lady @ghoulishbehaviour

~3300 words

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What first caught your eye was the rather loud waistcoat. Even from across the room, the amount of embroidery looked egregious. It was somewhat made up for by the tasteful choices in color, which managed not to clash with each other on the bright fabric. If the Lowell family were known for anything, it was their flamboyance. And annoyingly good hair, you thought to yourself, touching your own lightly to ensure the pins were staying in place.

The wearer of said offending waistcoat was the youngest of the Lowell boys, quite eager to prove himself to high society. He was a handsome sort, with a sharp jaw and a ready smile, all blonde curls and shining eyes. Open to speaking about anything, too, which was exactly why you were there.

The boy’s father had just come into a position in the House of Lords, and would be yet another influencing factor on trade. Your job was to make him talk, to see how open his father might be to working with your own employer, a certain Cutler Beckett. Beckett was always looking for political sway, so you were always dragged to social events to eavesdrop. Spying was too harsh a word, he told you, though you knew he’d let you call it whatever you liked as long as the job got done.

Thankfully, all socials needed entertainers, and entertaining made you just interesting enough to speak to. You could, of course, pose as some highborn lady, but for the Lowell boy, nothing less than the most dazzling performer would do.

You struck a captivating figure, even you had to admit. Beckett had near outdone himself—he wasn’t one to be afraid of dressing you immodestly, but your dangerously low neckline was nothing short of scandalous. Your dress, a dark turquoise mantua the color of stormy seas, was accented by embellishments of white and gold. Tiny satin roses sat along a creme stomacher, and lace spilled out from the elbows of your sleeves and along your collar. False ringlets hung at the sides of your face, giving the illusion you had more hair than a head could hold. Your jewelry, too, had its own extravagance. A pearl necklace lay at your throat in three lengths, and your earrings featured one dangling pearl apiece.

Truth be told, you felt a little like a trussed up doll, but you supposed that was all you were for the evening anyway.

You took your place amongst the musicians, keeping an eye on the boy as you went. You made sure to pass by close enough that he had no choice but to notice you, and you blushed prettily as his gaze trailed after you. Eye contact. If you’d learned anything, meeting a man’s eye for a brief moment was more daring, more alluring, than any dress you could ever wear.

Working for Beckett required a wide range of abilities from you—singing, dancing, pianoforte, social skills—and you were always expected to put them to use. There were the other necessities, sometimes, like good aim, which you preferred to leave to Mercer, but you learned all the same. Tonight, thankfully, all that was required of you was your voice

So you sang. Backed by a small ensemble, you provided the music for partygoers to dance to, raking your eyes over the crowd all the while, taking in the social scene. You stood at the perfect spot for observing who talked to who, and which groups avoided each other, and if anyone’s dress was out of season, and whether or not the Lowell boy accepted drinks from waiters.

Oh, and Beckett’s piercing gaze.

Nobody else noticed—nobody else could—as Beckett watched you from the corner of his eye. His stare raked across you, making gooseflesh rise on your arms and a shiver run down the back of your neck. He watched, of course, to make sure you were doing your job, and that his eyes weren’t the only pair drawn to you. But you had been under his employment a long time, and you knew his many looks, and the darkness in this particular look was one he reserved for precious few people. In fact, you weren’t sure you’d ever seen him direct this look to anyone but yourself, which gave you a little too much satisfaction.

This look was one of desire, and you’d be damned if you didn’t capitalize on it. Beckett wasn’t the only one who could toy with people.

The performance over, you mingled with the crowd, graciously accepting compliments and putting on a dazzling smile. It didn’t take long for the boy to be drawn over; his eyes carding over you with clear interest, and you knew it wasn’t just your voice drawing his attention.

“That was positively breathtaking.” He had a pretty smile, you conceded to yourself, but was full of foppish energy you’d have to brace yourself against.

“Thank you.” You pretended to be flattered.

“You’re breathtaking, as well. Wherever did you get that dress?”

The problem, you found, was that he was really and truly interested. All his excitement was genuine, and as much as you hated to use it against him, it was your job. “The silk is from China,” you lied. China sounded much more interesting than Bristol, and he wouldn’t know the difference.

Soon, he was talking about his father, and you listened to every word. When the topic of spices and textiles arose, you slipped Beckett’s name into the mix, mentioning him as the gifter of your dress. To the Lowell boy, it was nothing more than an offhand comment, but you knew Beckett’s name was in his brain now, and as sure as he was to mention you to his father, he would be mentioning Beckett as well.

It was when you let him inspect the pearls at your throat that you noticed Beckett’s glare from across the room, hot and fixated on the spot where the boy’s fingers made contact with your skin. You had the sudden feeling you’d done something wrong. Oh, the show you were making of yourself wasn’t truly vital, no, but surely Beckett couldn’t be upset about it.

Surely he couldn’t be jealous.

Mercer appeared by your shoulder in short order, seemingly out of nowhere. “I’m afraid the songbird is needed elsewhere,” he drawled. “I’m sure she’ll be back in not too long.”

“Oh, of course.” The boy smiled, bidding you farewell. “For you, I can wait.”

You rather hoped he didn’t.

You let Mercer drag you away from the crowd, though his iron grip on your arm wasn’t wholly necessary. You had no doubt who the order had come from—you were at the man’s beck and call. A thrill ran through you; you couldn’t help but feel a little excited. After all, you’d succeeded in making the famously well-restrained Cutler Beckett snap under the weight of jealousy. But you were apprehensive, too. There was no telling just how he would react, and though you weren’t afraid, necessarily, you were aware he could cause you discomfort without doing harm.

Mercer pulled you into a library, oak shelves making a maze of the room. At the back, Beckett sat in a comfortable looking chair, rising unhurriedly to greet you. He gave you a casual once-over before turning away to inspect a row of exotic artifacts, affecting disinterest.

“You’ve taken quite the shining to the Lowell boy.”

“Well,” you started, taking on the same air, “shining is the word to describe me tonight. You’ve made sure of that.”

He turned back to you then, regarding you darkly. He wouldn’t fall for any of your charm; at least, he’d be aware of your acting. You couldn’t fool him.

But you didn’t need to. Despite trying to make it look otherwise, he’d already given away his attraction to you, and it only felt right to give him what he made you give others. You couldn’t get shy on him now—that wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted your acting, even if he knew that’s what it was. You were a performer, and he liked a show.

“Your…enthusiasm…in tonight’s assignment was unparalleled. I’ve never seen you take such an interest in any of our potential clients before.” Beckett looked up at you through dark lashes. “Though,” he paused, brows knitting together ever so slightly, “I do wonder why that boy in particular caught your attention.”

You fingered one of the small roses adorning your dress, trying very hard to seem like you weren’t thinking critically about your answer. “Oh,” you sighed, letting your chest rise and fall a little more than natural, “you know how it is. He’s young and pretty and has so many stories and so much energy. One can’t help but get pulled into his halo of excitement.”

Beckett snorted. “Please. You’re too smart to find any substance in that sort of personality.”

“It’s not his personality I need to find substance in.”

Beckett’s eyes flashed with an intensity you’d never seen, dangerous. You were in deep waters now, you realized, and there was no backing out.

“Of course,” you continued, “we would need an empty room and locking doors. I’m sure you could procure something of the sort, given our current atmosphere.” You waved a hand, vaguely gesturing at the library. Then, you stilled, looking back at Beckett with your brows raised as if a thought had only just now occurred to you. “You weren’t hoping for something similar, dragging me in here, were you?”

Lighting quick, Beckett had one of your wrists in his hand, pulling you closer, his breath ghosting across the shell of your ear. “I know what you’re doing. I wouldn’t test me, if I were you.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and the nerves in your wrist crackled with some electric impulse triggered by Beckett’s touch. It took everything in you not to gasp. You hadn’t expected his hold to be so tight, but he kept you in a vice grip, and you knew then and there you couldn’t pull away even if you wanted to.

You steeled your nerves. This was a game, and you had to make your next move, risky as it felt.

“Or what?” You whispered low in his ear. Your free hand made its way to the joint between his shoulder and chest as if to steady yourself on him, a teasing touch. He breathed deeply against it, and the light press of your fingertips became the flat of your palm.

“Or I’ll show you just what can be done in an empty library.”

He pulled away abruptly, a tidal wave of relief cascading over you. The onslaught wasn’t over, of course, but he was giving you a respite, and though you weren’t admitting defeat quite yet, you’d take it.

Beckett sat back in the chair, relaxing, a smirk resting on his face. “Go on then. Show me how you would seduce this boy.”

You nearly balked at the suggestion. Whatever you’d been expecting, it wasn’t this—this forwardness, so casually put, not a trace of hesitancy to be seen. You only wondered for a brief moment whether he was serious; the confidence in his deepening smirk told you all you needed to know.

You straightened. Beckett wasn’t going to back down, and his words weren’t a suggestion. They were an order. That thought alone made you weak at the knees.

Always start slow. This was a seduction, and a seduction called for a certain amount of teasing. Anticipation was the true key; keep your voyeur waiting until they simply couldn’t wait any longer, until they became too enthralled to turn away. You began with the pins at the back of your dress, letting the pleats and folds in the back fall with each steel fastening removed. Heavy fabric settled on the floor, the back of the dress now more of a train.

Beckett was still perfectly composed, but the effect of your efforts was clear. His eyes followed your every movement keenly. You took advantage of it, having nowhere to set the pins but the small desk beside him. You bent down, allowing him a good look at your décolletage, and you were gratified to see him draw in a breath.

Next to go was the stomacher, also pinned in place. Here, the true divestment began. Once the stomacher was off, the front of your stays would be on full display. You’d known Beckett a long time, and he’d seen you in plenty of compromising positions, but never like this.

Eye contact, you reminded yourself. More alluring than any dress. More alluring than any undress.

Beckett settled back in his chair as the stomacher came undone, staring openly at the space it previously occupied. You wondered how often he’d had the chance to see women’s undergarments so personally, but waved that though away, bringing your hands up to the ruffled sides of your bodice and slowly, ever so slowly, peeled it off your shoulders and let it drop to the ground.

Beckett readjusted in his seat. You could hear his breathing, now, and his lips sat slightly parted, as if he could taste you on the air. Your arms, now bare, felt the chill of the library acutely. If you shivered, it wasn’t from the cool alone—Beckett’s eyes raked over you with undisguised lust, making it hard for you to keep from blushing. You were all petticoats, well beyond the definition of improper.

You untied your silk skirt, a matching turquoise to the bodice, never taking your eyes off Beckett’s own, even as his wandered. You had to slip it off over your head, but you managed it smoothly. That too you dropped on the floor, letting it slide right out of your fingers.

Beckett’s eyes met yours again, though you could tell he was getting impatient. You loosed the panniers from your sides where they hung to give your skirt its volume, dangling them from your fingers. You walked towards him, setting the small hoops down atop the pins you’d put next to him. Precious little covered you; your modesty was saved by your chemise, though you didn’t expect it to last.

For a long moment, you and Beckett stared at each other. You were close enough to touch, but he refrained from reaching out, clearly interested in what you would do next.

“May I use the chair?” You didn’t wait for a response, raising one foot to the seat just next to Beckett’s thigh. Your stockings had to go, and you began untying the garter fastened just above your knee, your chemise now hiked up to reveal a sliver of skin. One of Beckett’s hands moved, seemingly involuntary, and you smiled, shaking your head.

“Look, don’t touch.”

Beckett’s eyes snapped up to yours. It was your turn to give orders, and you weren’t about to play fair. You unlaced your garter, dropping it in Beckett’s lap. Then, inch by inch, you rolled down your stocking, only divesting yourself of it when you were sure Beckett felt tortured by it. He exhaled, resting his head against the back of the seat. But he smiled—a genuine smile—and you knew you were doing the right thing.

“Dear god,” he breathed, still watching as you undid your other stocking. “You’re lucky I’m a patient man. Otherwise I’d already have you bent over a desk somewhere.”

The way he’d grabbed you earlier, you didn’t doubt it. “And have everything over with so quickly?” you teased. “That’s no fun.”

“You have a point. Though, if you keep me waiting much longer, I might not be able to help myself.” His eyes flicked up to meet yours, and you blushed a little in spite of yourself.

The moment your other stocking hit the floor, Beckett was out of his seat, spinning you around to press you against the wall. You gasped but didn’t resist, relishing a little in the way his hands explored you, running down your sides and pulling you closer by the hips. His lips brushed your neck, and you tilted your head to give him better access.

The first kiss seared your skin. You found purchase in the back of his waistcoat, digging your fingers into the fabric to steady yourself. He continued his administrations down to your shoulder, where his teeth drew your attention to the soft bite he left above your collarbone. You couldn’t help the quiet moan that escaped you. If he wasn’t careful, you’d have marks littering your skin come morning, and they’d be on display for everyone to see. You considered that this very thing might be his intent, but his lips at the tops of your breasts distracted you entirely.

You felt his smirk more than saw it, and you knew he was taking great satisfaction in all the little noises you kept making. His touch became hampered by your stays, but he hardly seemed bothered.

“Be good for me and turn around, yes?” He murmured.

You complied immediately, shocked by how quickly he made work of the lacings. You couldn’t help but wonder whether he ever meant to kiss you properly. A hint of disappointment wormed its way into your brain; you liked what Beckett was doing to you, that couldn’t be denied, but you didn’t want it to be all he did. You didn’t want to be a fling. If you were being honest with yourself, you longed for him to care about you, and you longed for him to show it.

You turned back to him appraising you, eyes raking over your form. The only thing covering you was your chemise, though you felt naked under his gaze.

“Kiss me.” You disguised your plea with as much confidence as you could muster. For a moment, you feared he wouldn’t understand, or that he would reject you outright, but all worry was wiped away as his lips crushed against yours, stealing the breath from your lungs with its intensity.

You were both panting when you parted, though Beckett looked like he could kiss you until he suffocated. The idea both thrilled and concerned you. You reached out, cupping his face in your hands, watching the surprise on his face turn to mild desperation as he leaned into your touch. You pulled him in again for a gentler, more tender kiss, and he sighed against your lips.

You’d never seen such softness in him before, and you were almost afraid of breaking him. His pupils, blown wide, remained fixed on you in a sort of daze, and to your great astonishment, a blush had crept up his cheeks.

He hadn’t anticipated this, either, you thought. This tenderness is more intimate to him than any power-play could ever be. You could explore him like this forever, you realized. Gentleness was something foreign to him, but he lost himself in it, needed it terribly.

Before you could get any further, a knock at the door had you pulling away from each other, gasping for breath and trying to shake off the little world you’d gotten so lost in.

Mercer slipped in, paying you and your state of undress no mind. He didn’t seem surprised in the slightest to see you both unkempt. “Lord Lowell has an interest in speaking with you, Sir. It seems the youngest Lowell boy has been talking with his father about you.”

“Ah.” Beckett recovered his composure with impressive speed. “I’m glad to hear our little bird sung so sweetly as to sway him.” He looked at you teasingly. Mercer stepped out, affording you some privacy and Beckett a moment to get himself back together. “An unfortunate interruption. Though I do hope you won’t mind resuming later?” You were pleased to see a glint of hope in his eye—he wasn’t as unaffected as he liked to pretend.

“Oh,” you leaned in, whispering in his ear, “I’m counting on it. I’m still not sure you’ve shown me quite everything one can do in an empty library.”

I've never put dividers in my fics before, so please tell me if you liked them!

#potc #pirates of the carribean #cutler beckett #cutler beckett x reader #lord beckett #potc fanfiction #fem!reader #x reader #beckett x reader

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valeriefauxnom · 3 months

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A Holy Hell: The Ilian Church's Very Concerning State

A little while ago, I made mention that the Church in Dragalia was not messing around. Consider this an enlightening of that comment. As always, very long post ahead because there is a lot of rather scary stuff going on.

First, the Church, both North and South, has impressive sway over the lands.

From the North, Grams' clergy, headed by Origa, is more powerful than the king, and Grams itself is a very powerful city-state able to control many of the smaller norther nations. Grams is so powerful that Origa feels confident and comfortable risking open war with New Alberia, Alberia (which was reestablished under Leonidas' kingship in Valkaheim) and quite possibly Dyrenell if Emile was grumpy someone is denying his 'sibling rights', when she orders Graht+Templars to apprehend Euden in Grams for no cause.

But no matter how hardcore the Northern church is established to be with the Holy Hunger Games for prospective Auspexes and the blatant corruption from top to bottom, the South isn't deadweight either. They're deeply enough entrenched in Alberia's statehood that Roc's story kicks off after the royal fam "secured permission" from the church to excommunicate her favorite human.

So yeah, even the Alberian royal family, as far as we know, needs permission to excommunicate and then persecute one of their own. That makes me wonder if there's a sort of protection clause in being a part of the Church, like, 'thou shalt not quarry thine own in faith' or something, necessitating this prince to be excommunicated before he was a 'valid target' in the world.

That aside, what we can see of the modern day Southern church isn't all too soft either. They're on a cusp of civil war between the Perditionists and the Conservationists already, but even just their day-to-day operations doesn't paint a very good light on them.

The Ilian church, for instance, has the capacity to punish 'heretics' for violating its principles. They not only have the power to arrest...

But Tobias' story also lays clear that they do indeed punish 'heretics', and quite severely. For commoners, most misdeeds will be dealt with in fines and maybe some prison time, which is already concerning (how long? in what conditions?) but Paladyns instead get burned alive for the same offense.

Now, in a certain sense, this could be construed as...admirable? Punishing the ones whose job it is to uphold the faith and be a representation of it, a trusted figure in society, harsher, does make some sense. But really...burning alive? Ouch.

Curran's entire job is also literally seeking people 'violating' the state-imposed faith, or at the very least, 'a state whose rules are those of the Church's, so no matter what you believe in you better follow those rules', to imprison and punish them.

Now, even if Curran here describes punishments for the 'laymen' as supposed to be softer than those of their military arm in the Paladyns, that doesn't mean laymen are treated all that well or fairly in their reality. Tobias' third story opens up with this narration:

...And within, at least a certain amount of templars and paladyns seem to hold these kinds of views regarding their role in the world and that of others:

So laypeople can find themselves killed for rebelling against the church, as the church views killing these heretics as doing them a favor to stop their souls from being sullied. That's some scary rhetoric. But why were they rebelling?

They're even willing to imprison a young child for heresy, for being upset the Church killed his father, as well as his mother, speaking the truth of a bishop manipulating a town first with forced tithing and then human sacrifices. His and his mother's fate is unknown, but with paladyns like this running the show, I'm guessing the inquisitors aren't going to be all that more merciful.

Even Curran comments that inquisitors are largely very much a 'guilty until proven innocent' kind of investigator. Curran also comments THIS, despite being a much more forward-thinking inquisitor without these preconceived notions of guilt:

He's also pretty quick to start delivering threats like these:

And with a brief mentioning to 'putting the screws' to someone in Nevin's story, I might be willing to bet that both sides of the church are willing to bust out the good old thumbscrews and other torture devices in pursuit of the truth or finding 'heretics' to then potentially put to death, not helped by the one killed priest in the Accursed Archives story describing an inquisitor's questioning as 'quite severe' at times.

Curran additionally seems to have the authority to decide if a perceived heretic or criminal dies right then and there, no trial required:

This is a lot about Curran, but he's one of our best sources at getting into the nitty-gritty darker side of church structure and powers as an inquisitor. And if Curran, resident funny man who trips over his own words 24/7 when trying to sound cool and a 'progressive' inquisitor, will engage in acts like that, that doesn't give me hope for the rest of the country with more 'traditionalist' inquisitors.

We also get other little glimpses into admittedly individual NPCs' psyche, but these glimpses can overall portray some of the attitudes that are acceptable in the church.

This is concerning again, in that even Ilia's creed, you know, the one they're all theoretically operating under, has wiggle room if the person they're supposed to be bringing happiness to is 'stained with darkness'. Very classic and very easy maneuver to declare anyone who does anything you dislike as 'impure' and thus can disregard your own rules to them.

Several in Tobias' story also express the good ole 'Ilia's will' as justification for whatever happens. Here, they're willing to leave a girl to wander in a fiend infested forest and just say whether she makes it back or not is Ilia's will, all because of their own creed that stepping onto a dragon's territory unbidden is forbidden.

Much like the northern church, the southern church is also steeped in corruption. Elisanne's appointment as Grand Paladyn was nothing more than a rigged notion, as the Archbishop actually wanted her dead to use as a Key of Perdition. Both factions are hopelessly corrupted: we see anything from perditionists bombing to conservationists attempting to arrest and kill Nino because they disbelieve the claim she's apart of the Goddess' bloodline and thus heretical (there's also at least one who wants her dead as a human sacrifice a la Elisanne for a, you guessed it, Key of Perdition).

We also have sterling examples like Father Nikolai, whose entire modus operandi is exploiting vulnerable children with no other options to groom as church assassins, as seen in Alex's backstory. At least one other priest agreed with him.

Thankfully, the one thing that keeps Alberia from being an all-out theocracy is that this generation of royal family seems rather distant from the church (well, save Zethia, who more comes across as a sort of 'holy figurine' in the church, an idol to worship despite not being particularly involved in the actual operations of the church, 'staying pure' from worldy affairs).

Nobody is particularly faithful. Phares is surprisingly among the most likely to use words like 'pray' when willing things to happen (ex, "I pray that we shall not meet as foes") but that's not exactly indicative of any deep faith.

Even Euden has a sort of vague faith in Ilia and the good that the church proscribes in its teachings, but is actually rather sheltered regarding their operations. He barely has enough of a clue to piece together that inquisitors are bad news, but not exactly why. He has some knowledge of some of the church's symbols like birds, but again, he's not particularly devout. One of his biggest expressions of faith is permitting Cibella to create a chapel in the Halidom and then hire Hope to...clean the altar in the Halidom.

Honestly, to me, it almost comes across as a sort of sheltering on both Aurelius' part as well as the royal family perhaps being a bit more immune to accusations of heresy and the darker side of the church. I could see Aurelius, who also seems skeptical of the northern church at least, trying to keep their piety to a more reasonable fervor if he knows what the north and/or south is up to.

But still, is it any wonder why Leonidas or Ciella finds no shortage of critique for the Ilian church, despite how there still are plenty who are more 'purely' clinging to the faith and aiding the young and downtrodden?

There's even something of a separate justice system, a separate one enough Elisanne is emboldened to challenge Leonidas when he tries to arrest Father Marko for maliciously spreading slander that Euden is possessed by the Other to fulfill this principle.

Of course, Leonidas goes a step or three too far in his initial persecution of any follower and his special hatred for dragons, -as he has adopted that 'dragons are the true masterminds' heretical view Heinwald was repeating to Curran in that earlier image, but he's plenty of cause to be distrustful. It's not just him, either, as Chelle is also very wary of the Church.

This is all over the place, but I hope I've made my overall point clear: the Ilian church, north or south, is not quite the benevolent savior it claims itself to be. It is rife with corruption, is in active persecution of any who it deems heretical, is its own judge jury and executioner (and some are lucky to even see a rigged trial in the first place), and is involved in any number of deep scandals and feuds.

Honestly, it's a miracle so many of its adherents are still true enough to the faith to still engage in the more pretty parts of scripture like feeding orphans and all that.

Extra: Also, can we talk about how the upper echelons of the Northern Church already seems to have at least some deets regarding Euden's true origin or the like? Not just Origa, who comments at one point that Euden is 'a man with lacking soul and manifold pacts', but even Nevin has at least a decent idea as to what's up:

Where did they learn this? How? Was part of the reason they went to Euden specifically for Agents of the Goddess a means to investigate what kind of dude he was and determine if he was a threat with his origins? I mean, come on, even the southern church is willing to immediately execute anyone who claims the Goddess' bloodline without even a full investigation whether there's a grain of truth in there, so I can't imagine either side of the church taking all to well to a person made of demon-flesh. (Wait it might actually be interesting if the Perditionists got ahold of that fact with their attitude to the Other...)

This is way way way too long so I'll cut it off here, but yeah. The Ilian church is not quite as soft as they present themselves.

#dragalia lost #dragalia #dragalia analysis #It really is a tangled mass of issues top to bottom. There's no easy fix nor does it get fixed by the end.#Too bad Ilia never got the full scoop as to what's up with 'her' own church even if it's technically Meene's.#That would have been interesting.

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googleitlol · 9 months

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Now I wanna share more so here’s another blurb from my jttw x reader, thinking of calling it Little Dove but that’s just a placeholder rn

I’ve never rlly written a dynamic that begins so… aggressively before, so it’s been rlly fun writing the beginning bits where Reader straight up despises Sun Wukong. I’ll probably do another post for this fic explaining why Reader (or Dove) hates him so much, so if anyone wants to know more, lmk!

(This takes place just after SWK has been freed)

Dove Masterlist:

This river would be perfect for finding the right materials. Once you can see a suitable clump of reeds by the river, you turn back to begin your harvest. Alone at last, you're finally able to feel a semblance of peace. The moon reflecting over the great body of water, a soft breeze carrying through the air, tonight might prove to be the first calm night in weeks of travel.

The family that let you and your traveling companions stay the night truly seem to be kind people, they were quite considerate when realizing your group are strictly vegetarian. It also felt amazing when you were able to properly bathe yourself again. Not that you aren't used to spending days in the wilderness, but it was certainly a welcome change of pace to have proper shelter for the night.

You start snapping the reeds out of the ground, checking the first one to see if it was the right width for an arrow before continuing your harvest. You carried no extra arrowheads, but you were certain you could worry about that later. For now, these reeds would work as good arrow shafts.

Normally, you would collect your own arrows after a fight. But that just wasn't possible in the midst of the chaos of that demon attack. There were too many of them to kill them all, and with Tripitaka's horse taking off with the monk, all you could do was leave the arrows behind. Luckily, you still have a few left over, but it isn't enough.

After taking a sizeable amount of reeds, you follow the river downstream for some time. It didn't take long for you to find a rock large enough to sit on while you work. Setting the reeds by your feet, you take out your bow to help measure how long to make the arrows. Taking a seat, you take one of the reeds in your hold, drawing the soon-to-be-shaft and taking mental note of the length.

"Do you ever sleep?"

The voice from behind makes you jump out of your skin, though the following snicker quickly helps to ground you.

Turning back, you see Sun Wukong leaning against one of the trees lining the shore of the river. "I mean, you've made it very clear that you're mortal. Rest is important for those of you that can die, right?" One might think his words came from actual concern if not for the smirk on his face stretching from ear to ear. "I wouldn't know, seeing as I'm immortal. But you knew that already, didn't you?"

He has no idea how infuriating he is.

You swiftly turn back to face the river after seeing who's with you. "Done showing off your new garments to your master?"

"Can’t I accompany you? You’re not the only one who can become a bird." His reply was casual, as though he didn't sense your blatant hostility. You know he does, but he acts oblivious to it. Maybe that's the point, a method to aggravate you further. So much for that peaceful alone time.

Now with more annoyance than before, you begin snapping the reeds to the length needed. Silence falls over the two of you as you work, which you might almost be grateful for… if not for the monkey's overbearing presence that had moved to be just over your shoulder.

Taking out your knife, you begin notching the arrows shafts, doing your best to ignore the occasional brush of a tail over your arm. It was easy at first to call them accidental little grazes as his tail never seemed to stop swaying. However, it was starting to grow harder when it kept happening. Tapping your nose was the final straw.

"Can I help you?!" Your head swivels back to face the monkey, the same shit-eating grin resting on his face.

Despite the clear aggression in your tone, a laugh is his first response. "What are you doing?"

The question makes you roll your eyes. His tone is condescending, his smile doing nothing to hide the mock in his voice. "I need arrows, what does it look like I'm doing?" Part of you can’t help but wonder, would his teeth get replaced if you knocked them out? If he's immortal, would they come back or would he remain teeth-less? One could only wish for the latter.

The Monkey King strolls over to face you now, his hands behind his back. "Oh, I know. What I meant to say is, why? Didn’t you hear what I told Master? Don’t you know how powerful I am?” He gestures to himself, getting much too close as he continues to blabber. “You don’t have to worry your pretty little head anymore. Just curse me out from the safety of Master’s shoulder. Your insults will keep me entertained.”

“You pompous—!” You stop yourself before you can go any further, the iron grip on you knife tightening as it points towards the ape. The smug look on his face tells you all you need to know. He wants you to get riled up, like he said. He has to be bored out of his mind, being ‘converted’ and forced to help Tripitaka. So instead of plundering villages or whatever it is that he did before his punishment under the mountain, he’s playing with you.

Closing you eyes, you let out a deep sigh. If that’s how he wants to play it, then so be it. “Why are you here, Sun Wukong?” You ask, your expression returning to its neutral state from before.

The demon raises a playful brow, finally stepping back to allow for some of your personal space back as he hummed in faux thought. “Master seems to like you— I don’t really see why— but when you left, I thought what a shame it’d be if you were snatched or eaten in the middle of the night.” He shrugs absentmindedly before his eyes narrow. “Then again, who knows? It might be fun to watch.”

You let out a dry chuckle at that, inspecting your handiwork as he turns to look out over the water. “Trust me, simian, I am plenty capable of caring for myself.”

“Is that how you ended up under me that day in the Jade Palace?” He snickers, and it takes everything not to snap at the comment.

“You mean how I distracted you long enough for the thunder deities to arrive, and eventually the Buddha himself?” Collecting your arrow shafts, you rise to your feet. “It was never my goal to beat you. I’ve been taught to know the difference between fights I can and cannot win. Your power is the only reason I can stomach you being here.”

Laughter ripples from his chest, the monkey turning to approach you once more. “Aww, what a good little student you are. Is that why you’re so uptight all the time? You’re a teacher’s pet?” Despite his demeanour and mocking tone, you stand tall as he circles to your other side, his back now facing the woods that line the river.

With an uncaring expression, you study the monkey’s face. Brow raised cockily, smile accompanied with teeth that are bared. His body language, arms crossed and posture tall. “You may be immortal, Sun Wukong, but everything is temporary.”

He lets out another huff of amusement. “Is that a threat, Dove?”

“A lesson I’ve been taught again and again.” You raise your brows with an uncaring smile. “You might have eternal life, monkey, but you won’t last on this journey.” You lean closer, voice just a whisper. “So I’ll be there to watch the moment you mess up.”

With a little hmmph, you move past the Monkey King. “And I’ll enjoy it.”

With your final words, you take your materials to work elsewhere, leaving the Monkey King by the water to digest your words. He turns to watch you stalk off into the woods, frowning with a smile. One could only know it was forced if they noticed the twitch at the corner of his mouth.

“…Bitch.”

#uuuggghhhh i love them so much #they both cut each other with their words #but cut deeper than they realize #don’t worry it gets better :D #journey to the west #jttw #journey to the west x reader #jttw x reader #journey to the west sun wukong #journey to the west monkey king #jttw sun wukong #jttw monkey king

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mamamittens · 1 year

Text

How to (try to) escape a yandere in One Piece

Okay, so an old ask keeps popping up in my head so I might as well address it semi formally and out loud, yeah?

The problem with One Piece characters as yanderes is that the world is so batshit nearly every character could canonically be yandere as it stands. And you'd be fucked several times over a majority of the time.

Safest yanderes to escape from?

Your average civilians with little to no 'bigger' friends. I'm talking folks like Makino. Maybe they know someone that would be willing to help but the distance and relative difficulty getting a hold of them gives you an amazing headstart and without a lot of evidence you can safely assume you're getting away baring terrible luck. Average fishmen and mermaids, as well as minks or any other more exotic species counts here too with the added benefit that they can't afford to travel in certain areas without being sold as slaves (as terrible as it is).

Tricky but maybe not impossible?

Average marine and pirate. Your small fry background characters not imbued with special abilities or strong devil fruit powers. They could get a leg up by allying themselves with a stronger marine/pirate just sadistic/amused enough to entertain their crush to track you down but it's unlikely they'll put all their resources into it. Marines could put a bounty on your head, Which makes things more difficult, but unless they can get enough sway they're basically just getting you arrested and locked away out of their reach. Which if you ran away you probably won't see too much of a problem with. More well connected members of other species are also here as long as they're small fry that can't quite overpower more... Greedy interests.

Yikes my guy, I think you might be screwed here.

Smaller pirate crews/captains with a good amount of heft to their name but not really warlord or yonko status. As well as Marines under more unhinged superior officers that like them or can be convinced how important it is you're 'rescued'. Like, Coby or the Hearts pirates before they allied with Luffy and co. There are still options, they're probably busy with more pressing matters than the apple of one of their member's eyes (though the captain is another question) so you can probably get a good distance away. With enough dedication you might even succeed at disguising yourself forever. World's a big place but... If they spot you once it's unlikely you'll get the chance to run away again. So uh... Make it count yeah?

RIP to you, the clock is ticking and I hope brief freedom was worth it.

Uh, about any of the big pirate crews and I'd say warlords, admirals and up, as well as yonkos go here. This includes the Strawhats but double cause they're tenacious and very willing to help each other out with a lot of friends to help do it. While not... Strictly impossible to get away or even necessarily impossible to stay 'gone' you're going to need some big strings to pull it off. I'm talking fade away to obscurity on a random island in bum-fuck-nowhere-(insert random blue here) kinda gone. And travel in OP in a right bitch so you better be quick and determined. Or at least faster than your yanderes' fastest friend. Certainly don't run to known friends, unknown allies, or any family no matter how removed.

Possible escape routes? Deep and secretly with rival crews/organizations and hope they don't learn about it cause they won't give a shit about wrecking hell to get to you then. Amazon Lily if you're a woman and hope it doesn't get out cause unless Boa Hancock is also yandere for you, she likely won't risk her whole island your one person. And I wouldn't recommend it if your yandere is Luffy cause then you're either dead or just going right back to his side. If you're running from a marine, world noble, or celestial dragon the Revolutionary Army is a pretty good bet. Just hope tricky politics doesn't mean you get cut loose too (or an RA member gets a little too fond of you as well). Reverse if your yandere is part of the RA and hope they don't manage to track you down with their information network.

Are you sure you actually got away or is this just a game of cat and mouse for them?

If the yandere is strong and capable of independent travel under their own power they probably go here. Jinbe, Marco, Ace, (a few others with powers or devil fruits that make traversing the seas alone not only possible but a breeze) and probably highest ranking Marines. Even without using allies and friends your odds are getting dicey. How you escaped is a miracle and unlikely to happen twice. I'm not even sure you actually got away unnoticed to start with. This might be a 'game' to teach you how impossible it is to leave the yandere in question. The moment you're in danger (possibly just after it if they're sadistic) or exhausted and pathetic they'll sweep in and carry you back 'home'.

With an incredible amount of luck you could get away. But if they got this far in OP they're probably hella stubborn and determined. So even as the years go by, they won't forget you. But they'll sure as hell remember what you did. One wrong move... One bad stroke of luck... And that's it. If even a friend of a friend sees you and opens their mouth, you're liable to come back home to see them chilling in your living room scowling at the lackluster accommodations. They probably won't understand why you ran away.

But they'll certainly put in the work to make you understand why you never should have left.

The 'X' factor that may make it better or worse when you try and leave.

Naturally, depending on their temperament, they may take your leaving.... Better? A little? Delusional will convince themselves you were just so scared! You didn't understand! This of course adds a bit of desperation to their actions and may lead to more severe restrictions until you get it through your silly head that you're safer with them. It does mean that they won't check the more 'dangerous' escape routes first because there's no way you really know what you're doing... This train of thought won't last long though. More sadistic yanderes will relish the excuse for punishment--arguably its more important than ever that you disappear really well because retrieval won't be a gentle process. Level headed yanderes will likely think through your actions. Might even understand... But except for very rare circumstances, you're not likely to just be let go. They need you... Just like you need them (and you'll understand eventually that they're right).

One Piece is just the definition of 'the world feels a hell of a lot smaller when it counts'. The only real barriers are politics and the sea. So if they can bypass one or both your escape routes dwindle quickly. Lack of communication between islands only goes so far when there's a lot of movement between them. And a clever enough pirate can abuse the system to locate you faster than you think.

By all means you should strive for freedom but... It's better to be mindful about how far you'll need to go once you realize the situation you're in before acting recklessly. If you were caught once you can be caught again.

And if uh... You 'left' with something you better hope they didn't know about it beforehand. I don't see that going over well. Just... Add a little timer to your escape plan cause they probably had more eyes on you than you think.

#one piece discussion #yandere #yandere discussion #one piece yandere

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dragonsarecats · 4 months

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I definitely agree that the sway of Byleth as a lot of weight for SS! But I don't think it's the only important factor? Because to me if it was the case, Claude and Dimitri would have their own SS: the fact that it's specific to Edelgard do seems means something about the Eagles loyalty toward her.

Edelgard don't feel betrayed in Silver Snow nor did she trusted the other Eagles? Can you give specific dialog? To me Silver Snow, at least regarding Byleth and other student is kinda just what she expected to happen?

I do think the Hubert point has to be nuanced: Hubert is only one person in Edelgard huge lack of positive relationship, and more widely Edelgard truly awful situation. Edelgard is constantly watched by her abuser, she has to constantly worry that people she met could very much be TWSITD agent, ... Yes, she has someone to rely on but comparatively she has countless ennemies on her track ( unlike Claude who has mostly potential enemy, or indirect ennemies that have in no way the same weight as TWSITD or Aegir for example ). So yeah, while Claude and Edelgard trust issue are different in certain ways, I don't think Claude trust issue can be a point as to why found family is a fundamental trope of VW and not of CF?

For the inherent respect as a leader I'm sorry to have missed what you meant! But while you're right that Claude as the thoughest situation, the other lord don't take the respect as granted? The role of Emperor is now a puppet leader and the Prime Minister is supposed to hold the true power, Edelgard certainly does have to work for the respect and the amount of power she has in CF: she has to rely on TWSITD and make alliance with Caspar and Linhardt father for example. Even Dimitri who clearly has the best position of the three when it comes to natural respect has the whole Rufus affair!

For Ferdinand a the reason behind him being rival who don't litteraly seek to take her power, it's because he already has power over her so I don't think it's necessarily a strong point? Because of the insurrection, she's the puppet leader, he's the one with the actual power. And Edelgard noble connection are small and actually very unimpactful. Especially compared to Dimitri who has his actual group of childhood friend and adoptive fathers

How is Edelgard not inherently untrusting compared to Claude and Hubert? I mean, they made a choice to give one lord the line about being so untrusful they can't even trust themselves, they made SB about the hardship of trusting unlike GW where Claude surprisingly trust Shez to some extent quickly? I genuinely don't see how she has less trust issue, or at least less deep, and to me it kinda wouldn't make sense with her backstory ( especially on the Hubert comparison )?

I'm sorry for all the misunderstanding too, I hope I'm not too rude- And really if my ask bother you or take too much time to respond I really won't mind if you don't respond ^^" Thanks you for taking your time in any case

First of all anon, let's clear something up! I ADORE your asks! You're not rude at all, I really, genuinely enjoy disagreeing with you, if that makes sense? You're clearly super passionate about Three Houses and talking about this game with someone who is super passionate is really fun for me! And don't worry about how long it takes me to respond to you lol--which is very ironic considering this response took nearly twenty days when I normally reply within eight hours (finals hit hard D:) --because I love doing it! You're genuinely a bright spot in my day!

Now, to the rest of your ask!

So for me, the reason why Claude and Dimitri don't have a "Silver Snow", as you put it, is because thematically they don't really "need" one. The type of conflict dealt with by Claude and Dimitri both personally and politically doesn't require an additional route to explore, and also, Silver Snow is much more the Church route then it is the oppositional-Edelgard route. I think Silver Snow branches from Edelgard's route because that's the most interesting place to put it. As personally as Dimitri's route gets with Edelgard, he isn't her true opposition; Rhea is.

And thus for me, the Silver Snow route says much more about Rhea, Edelgard, Seteth, and Byleth, then it does the Eagles. I definitely think it says something about the Eagles-- that they don't appreciate Edelgard's methodology and could be convinced to opposed her (and have mixed feelings about them) puts them in a very similar boat to Claude, who is most frequently compared with Edelgard. However, when removed from the context of SS/CF (and thus, recruitment ignored, away from Byleth's influence), all of them do show up at Edelgard's side, and are willing to die for her. I think, similarly to the other routes, their relationships are different and more strained, but ultimately without the influence of Byleth they are loyal to Edelgard (and the Empire) in a way that can't be ignored.

"Edelgard don't feel betrayed in Silver Snow nor did she trusted the other Eagles? Can you give specific dialog? To me Silver Snow, at least regarding Byleth and other student is kinda just what she expected to happen?"

No, you're absolutely correct here, I definitely misspoke. If I were to try and correct what I said...I don't think Edelgard felt betrayed by the other Eagles, but perhaps, disappointed? It's a conclusion I come to from seeing her in CF more than anything else, frankly, because (and I'll elaborate on this a few paragraphs down), I see Edelgard as a very desperate person. She is desperate to trust even as she views everyone with suspicion, two traits that seem more diametrically opposed then they really are.

Go back into trust issues (and the leadership points), I think there is no "better" or "worse" when comparing Edelgard and Claude's trust issues, just "different." Edelgard's trust issues cause her to put on a front of suspicion, but it's not a strong one. This is the result of two things: her trauma, and Hubert. Edelgard has a peer she can trust anything and everything with (and this is a good thing for her), and that includes vetting people. Even with the Professor, Edelgard grows fond of her quickly, and begins to trust her (implied by game mechanics to really, really start at C+ but also scene in other routes the fondness really does carry), but Hubert holds off on Byleth until she makes that critical choice to go against the church. This to me symbolizes a sort of "safety" net that Edelgard has with Hubert? Further on her relationship with Byleth, Edelgard's trauma does result in her putting on a front of suspicion (which makes it no less apart of her, but rather something she deliberately does to protect herself), but I think Edelgard is just desperate for someone to reach out to her.

I haven't talked about this before, but I think one of the things that highlights the differences between Edelgard and Claude and also their trust level, is the concept of "adults." This affects Dimitri as well, but as a "rule" in three houses if something majorly affects two house leaders it affects the third in less dramatic/major ways. That is to say, that while Edelgard has never had an adult/authority figure she could rely on, Claude has. And while Claude has never had the ability to rely on a peer, she has. Edelgard removes the old guard almost completely when she rises to power, only compromising, as you said, with Lindhardt and Caspar's parents. She replaces everyone she can't rely one with people she can rely on, because she's learned the hard way through what happened to her and her family. Claude, on the other hand, had his parents. They raised him to be self sufficient and to survive in a world that hated him. Later, Claude had his grandfather, and now has Judith and Nader (who trained him in childhood). He had no peers and no friends until he arrives at the Academy. As a result, Claude simply...lives with the discomfort. He deals with the reverse of what Edelgard went through; instead of living with people who have harmed you, he experienced harm from other people and now is forced to be around people who think the same way and thus could harm him in the future. Whereas Edelgard clears out the rot and only compromises where she has to, Claude is a being of compromise. It's not just that he distrusts others, it's that others fundamentally distrust him.

Edelgard's place as the next Emperor is never in doubt. It just isn't. What really shows this off to me, is the silver snow cutscene in which the flame emperor is blatantly backtalking to the Agarthans! Talking about how she doesn't approve of what they've doing and how they're going to pay--to me it was really effective at showing off how well they were at manipulating her because there is a reason Edelgard goes after the Church first and not the people responsible for her own personal tragedy. It's never in doubt in the Crimson Flower route that Edelgard will be Emperor. She never doubts it. To better compare her and Dimitri to Claude--he's basically a bastard to the Alliance. Sure, Edelgard is at risk of being undermined and turned into a puppet leader, but the fact that she will be that leader is objectively not up for debate. Edelgard is not afraid of the people in the Empire (non-Agarthan) who caused the coup, and she's relatively easily able to steamroll over them. Edelgard has stability in her place in the world--her place has been custom made, after all, as the only survivor of her siblings. In a way, it's also what makes her such a tragic figure--she has a lot less agency in her route then it feels because she's trying to make the best out of a bad situation.

Claude, on the other hand, is implied to be in a very precarious position. He can't pull off the stuff Edelgard does because Edelgard is an absolute monarch in a similar way to Dimitri. She is the Emperor and Dimitri is the King. Claude is the head of the von Reigan house, but the constant pressure and presence of Lorenz combined with Holtz's looming (if pleasant) figure in the background shows to the player that Claude is objectively replaceable. It's why his ultimate strategy during the time skip is to stall, to take advantage of the lack of unification in the Alliance (the lack of unification under him), in order to keep the Empire's eyes off of his people for the longest period possible.

So I think their trust issues are fundamentally different despite how similar Claude and Edelgard are!

Before I go to that, though, I'd like to address Ferdinand. That man has absolutely no power over Edelgard lol. Their support chain honestly makes me feel a little bad for him? The other two rivals--Lorenz and Felix--get deeper, more meaningful resolutions with their Lords but to me, personally, it feels like Ferdinand just accepts that Edelgard is better than him and becomes humble in a way that feels almost self-depreciating (esp. in their line progression if you have them pull weeds together the whole run, like me and my friend lol). Ferdinand has no idea about the coup, and he's a rather oblivious character--he believes it's his job to keep Edelgard in check, and he is only allowed to be Prime Minister because when she ousted his father, she chose to keep him there. Edelgard has so much power over Ferdinand it's crazy--both personal and political--and I don't necessarily think they have a "bad" relationship or anything I just think that Ferdinand has self esteem issues, lol, and weighs his own worth against hers which she isn't responsible for. I think you're underestimating Edelgard here--while Dimitri does have a lot of personal and political connections, so does she! There's a reason she's able to almost instantly obliterate the old guard, and that's because she has replacements like Ladislava and Randolph waiting in the wings. She's also able to keep on nobles like Lindhardt and Caspar's father's. Edelgard is a very powerful character, I think it just feels otherwise sometimes because she's so deeply affected by what happened to her as a child (as she should be) and unlike Dimitri it doesn't make her large and imposing if that makes sense.

Edelgard is jaded in a way Claude is not. I did not mean to make it seem like she was trusting because she absolutely tries not to be. Her trust issues are bone deep, and comparing her and Claude as "more" or "less" was not something I intended to do, it's just that they manifest differently. What they each want from people they could potentially trust is different: Edelgard is desperate to have someone reach out their hand to her, and Claude is desperate for someone not to slap his away when he does. Edelgard is drowning in the same way Dimitri is, emotionally. The Hubert thing was less of a comparison and more of an example of why Edelgard wants to trust someone so bad and appears to "slip" more than Claude does with her mask even though hers is a lot more obvious partially because she has Hubert. She does not have to do all her vetting herself, and I think that's very good for her.

I think the reason for me, why found family seems to be a much bigger theme in Verdant Wind then Crimson Flower, is again, partially because of the power structure less inherent in the Golden Deer house. Lorenz is visibly worn down over time through conversation with Leonie (our queen!) about commoners, and despite everything about Claude being inherently political, the Golden Deer manage to be peers in a way no one else is, because let's be real, Claude is an equal to the other nobles the way Edelgard and Dimitri can't be. It doesn't make him closer to the others--Hubert calls Edelgard only ever by respectful titles and I think if they were any closer they'd merge into a single soul lmao--but it puts him on a more level playing field. Mr. Leader Man is treated with a lot more humor than grandiosity, and characters like Leonie and Raphael really do result in the Golden Deer all feeling like they're equals even if you're conscious that they aren't. This, for me, makes it feel a lot more explicit when you get your found family forming, because in a big big way, it's forming completely from scratch. There's almost no real positive relationship between any of the Deer when the game starts! And I'm including Raph and Ignatz in it because of Ignatz's massive guilt! It makes that development very tangible, because it almost doesn't feel like a natural progression. For me, the theme is so prominent because it's about the formation of found family, although I think you could definitely argue that other routes have other aspects of found family more prominent.

I'm so sorry this took me so long anon!! Know I've been slowly working on this and thinking of you, lol!

#twila talks #twila answers #fire emblem three houses #fe3h #claude von riegan #edelgard von hresvelg #fe3h meta #never fear anon i adore you and your asks!!!

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god1ngs · 3 years

Text

━‎ end of the world

synopsis; a forbidden love told for generations

contains; human reader, major character death, swearing, mentions of war, spoilers

god c!technoblade / reader, 3.4k wc

note; the title doesn't make much sense but whatever lol ,, this is for @mayasimagines 's 600 event! congratulations and i hope you like this :)

throughout the fall of countries, the crumbling of empires, there stood a man. he gazed upon the vast land, the grass stained red. buildings had crashed down, debris staining the area around them. they layed in heaps of piles, taller than most. the fallen down buildings had been a sign of the empire's loss.

there was no one alive to commemorate the loss however.

screaming rung inside of his head, shouting and yelling, with some other tones mixed in. displeased and ecstatic and mocking tones blended together, sounds of chaos lingering in the mind of the man. he only sighed, walking away from the destroyed country.

he's seen this happen too many times before, the repetitive cycle of watching a country build itself only to come crashing down years later. they never lasted long. always the one for chaos, he sometimes participated in the destruction of the countries, though most times he didn't need to.

humans were savage, brutal creatures who only cared about themselves. by studying their nature, the way they go about certain scenarios, he had figured out that much. selfish, twisted beings who would betray each other in a heartbeat. all it took was more wealth or a promise of better gear.

how easily swayed they were. technoblade sneered, his red cape dragging beneath him as he stalked the hallways. pillars of quartz, chipped at the edges from years of standing, lined the hallway. they reached the ceiling, some even going higher. the magnificent red carpet he stalked down had ended at a throne.

a throne made of gold, the shiniest material he could get his servants to find. emeralds and diamonds and rubies lined the top of it, the same jewels lining the gold of his crown. at last, he sat down, the voices calming down at the familiar seating area. they always got loud whenever there was destruction.

technoblade, the blood god. also known as the god of war and chaos to many, he wasn't very popular among the peaceful people. people often worshipped him for protection, to which he rarely granted. protection from him, a god of war, was seldom. often he didn't care about the hunans enough to waste his protection on them.

yet, one mortal, had caught his eye. they were nothing too special, middle class and usually someone technoblade wouldn't even spare a glance at. they were different though. they outshined any ray of sun, their smile proving to be the brighter of the two. he found them, despite all odds, very interesting.

later, after wine and more sparring, the man had caught wind of philza coming over. philza, the angel of death, had been one of technoblade's good allies, even so far as to consider the blond a friend. he brought saints to their knees in their final moments, allowing them either an eternity in hell or a peaceful life above.

he wanted to meet them, and technoblade always gets what he wants.

even before technoblade had become the god he is now, forever cursed to watch humanity rip itself apart, he knew philza. the two fought wars together, never straying from their path of loyalty. the blond perched himself on the windowsill, his striking white wings folding on his back, as he smiled at the other. "hello technoblade." he greeted, ever the polite man.

technoblade only scoffed, shaking his head with an amused grin. "please, phil," he drawled, looking from his red wine to the angel of death. "no need for the formalities. just call me techno." the blond threw his head back with a laugh, wide smile painting his features as the other chuckled. "of course, mate."

silence washed over the pair for a moment, a comforting silence that allowed them to bask in the moment od seeing each other. they didn't get to visit often, one thing they mutually hated about being in the sky palace, usually swamped with other duties. philza with guiding people to the afterlife, and technoblade with causing conflict.

"i actually wanted to talk about somethin' with ya, mate." phil broke the silence, hopping off of the marble windowsill to come lean against one of the pillars. the pink haired man, ever so interested, hummed questionably. "and what did you want to speak to me about? come on, spit it out." the man said, looking down at philza.

he sighed, glancing up at technoblade. "you've been acting off, mate. less wars are starting, and that's weird for you. i know you also started protecting that one mortal. fuck, what was their name?" he murmured, brows furrowed. technoblade sighed in annoyance, not wanting to be pestered with questions.

"[name]." he answered phil quietly, not bothering to look back at the blond man. the clouds danced with each other in the sky, entertwining and morphing with each other freely. sometimes he wishes he could be as free as the clouds. "you know," phil said, a mischievous glint shining in his eyes. the blood god could only dread what he was going to say. "rumor has it that gods only protect mortals they're interested in."

the teasing, despite only being light hearted, had a quizzical undertone. while technoblade had been acting strange, protecting somebody was something phil had never expected. either something was special about that mortal and their family, or someone had begun fantasizing. he could only hope it wasn't the latter.

with more conversation, technoblade denying any feelings blooming for a human, phil left to go do his job. he was alone with his thoughts, the voices making him tug at his own hair to keep them quiet. they craved the mortal, despite how much he willed himself to stay in his throne room, the man had to go see them.

it was a normal day for you. nothing was different, much less weird. it was only normal, a basket of bread in your hands as you walked home. you hummed as you stepped on the path, enjoying the peaceful walk back to your house. you were content with your life, having a few people and more deaths than you could count.

and see them he would.

you partially blamed philza, the angel of death, for the passing of your loved ones, but you also knew he wasn't the one to kill them. he simply took them to the afterlife, guiding them to where they would spend the rest of their days. the deaths in your family had piled up, mostly from war and some of falling ill.

you spent your days worshipping gods now. you were always the lonely type, choosing to stay by yourself rather than interact with others. you never minded the comforting embrace of being alone, the silence enveloping you at every given moment. it provided you with a sense of comfort you couldn't get anywhere else.

while you did worship other gods, you mostly worshipped technoblade. he was the primary god, you giving up all your offerings to him ─ ranging from bread to trinkets to gold galore. the tales of the blood god, always grand stories with daring adventures that had you on the edge of your seat, had always intrigued you.

your favorite, the one you read the most to the slim amount of people you did contact, was the tale of the butcher army. when he was human, a detail that many didn't know whether to believe or not, he blew up many countries. it hinted at the start of him being the god of war many years later. for punishment, the butcher army hunted him down.

they lied to the man, once they had captured him, in which they had prepared for his execution. some say he died that day, only to be revived due to the gods holy whim; others say he had never died, and broke out of the iron bars to kill the men who had hunted him down. learning about the magnificent god, a god you admired, had faced an army of four and won, allowed you to admire him even further.

once you got home, setting down your basket of bread, you had sighed. you always liked coming home, your safe space filling you with a joy like no other. the everlasting comfort of your home, a familiar place you longed to be at constantly, helped you feel safe. the comforting feeling of being home at last filled you at peace.

until it wasn't so peaceful anymore.

from your kitchen came a clanging noise. there were a few grunts followed afterwards, your eyes wide. fear flooded your system, nervousness coursing through your veins. you stayed silent, hoping you'd either been dreaming or had been imagining sounds. however, once a voice spoke, you knew that was not the case.

from your kitchen came, with his red cape dragging behind him, technoblade. you stammered, confusion replacing your previous nervousness. your grip came loose on the item you were holding, not being able to process what you were seeing. "well this is awkward." the god stated, putting your kitchen utensils he had just knocked down back on your counter.

if anything, this was awkward. very awkward. who expected a god to come through their kitchen window? "uh, do you," you stuttered, voice measily yet you still tried to fight it out. "do you mind telling me why you're here?" it was more than odd to see a god in your kitchen, the sight one hard to believe for even yourself.

technoblade had sighed, draping himself over your couch cushions as if he lived there. his arms, unlike your bare ones, spread across the back of your couch, the sight making you nearly sigh. "well, mortal, i had taken intrest in you." he answered bluntly, your mind still reeling from the fact that he was even here, but taking interest in you? no, this had to be some kind of joke.

the visible confusion highlighting your features made the god chuckle. it was amusing, seeing the looks on mortals' faces whenever something odd or unexplainable happened. "what's so confusing? i took interest in you, and so i came down here to see you." the blood god explained, shrugging his shoulders. the confusion you felt only worsened.

why was the question. why was a god in your house? why had he taken interest in you? you shook your head, suddenly feeling lightheaded. "sorry, i need to sit down." you muttered, trying to regain your footing. you sat down, going slowly as to not pass out in front of him. "so," you spoke up as soon as you had calmed down. "why have you taken interest in me?"

a cloud of silence loomed over the two of you, technoblade falling into his thoughts. why had he taken interest in you? there was no particular shining traits in you, even if he studied you as if you had carved out the world with your own hands; he watched you as if you had brung down a fantastic reign upon everybody.

"who knows?" he wondered aloud, a hum of amusement following his words. technoblade didn't know the reason for it, and despite itching with curiosity, he didn't bother trying to find out. he only let it be, coming to terms with the fact that you, a mortal, had piqued his interest. you kept him entertained, and that's all that mattered.

after the two of you talking more, you still trying to get over the shock that the blood god was in your home, you had to say that he was fairly a nice guy. maybe he was kinder than all of the other ones, however you've never crossed paths with a god either, so you couldn't tell. when technoblade had stood up, braided hair falling against your couch, you knew it was time for him to go.

he turned to look down on you, his towering figure highly intimidating. there was a reason he was feared across nations. he stared at you for a second, maybe deciding on what to say, though you couldn't tell with his blank expression. the man only sighed, wishing you a good day, and then turned to leave.

"you've got me interested, technoblade."

you only spoke to the god more after the first encounter. seconds turned into minutes and then minutes turned to hours. he was an interesting guy, choosing which emotion to show and when to show it. perhaps it came with being a god. as he came by more, each visit surprising you, you only talked to him more.

"as you've got me, [name]."

soon he started telling you stories. the butcher army, the l'manberg war, how he met philza. he told you great things of philza, the angel of death, so much so you nearly stopped disliking philza. you were always interested in his stories though, no matter how long or how action packed. each further lured you in to his grasp.

technoblade, however, had stopped visiting so often. with more conflict arising everyday, he didn't have as much time to visit you anymore ─ philza was starting to catch on as well. how he wasn't home as often or how he lied to philza each time he asked him where he was. he was getting suspicious, and wanted answers quickly.

philza confronted technoblade on this issue a while later. his wings puffed up confidently, he was so sure something was going on with his eldest friends, the edges torn at the seams. "technoblade." he addressed politely, standing in front of his throne once again, as he did not so long ago. he would get answers out of him.

technoblade only sighed, his cheek pressed against his closed fists as he stared at philza. "yes, philza?" he asked, voice heavy with exhaustion. the recent wars, as much as he loved the excitement and panic that came with it, have been too tiring for him. he also couldn't visit you that morning, only pissing him off more.

"have you been seeing the mortal you told me you had interest in?"

silence crashed over the room, violent in its malicious intent. phil's questioned nipped at the blood god, desperately pleading for an answer. philza sighed, one of disappointment and perhaps even anger. the silence was enough of an answer. "mate, are you kidding me?"

technoblade merely sighed, eyes narrowing at the blond. "you have no say on who i take interest in, phil. that is none of your concern." he dismissed the blond, turning back to look at the window. philza had no say in what technoblade done with his life, no matter how long the two have been friends.

"none of my concern? mate, they're a mortal and you're a god! hell, the blood god! for fucks sake, mate, you can't be seeing mortals!" philza snapped, brows furrowed and cheeks red from anger. the trouble a god could get in from seeing a mortal was irredeemable.

if technoblade got caught with the mortal, he would lose not only his titles, but his life. he would be executed.

technoblade merely scoffed however, rolling his eyes. "as if i'll get caught, philza. those laws are stupid anyways. what, are you going to tell on me?" he arched his brows at the angel of death, sneering at him. how dare he barge into his temple and then go off at him; a beloved friend of his.

however, the mortal was too intresting to not keep seeing. he may of even caught feelings. how laughable ─ the blood god, feared across empires, falling for a mere mortal. philza only sighed, rubbing his temples. he weighed his options: technoblade could continue seeing the mortal, get caught, and then both of them get in trouble.

or philza could tell the council. tell them of his affairs, tell them why he hasn't been here as often. once more, a vicious silence swept over them. only for a moment, for philza had declared:

"if you don't stop seeing this mortal, i'll have no choice but to stop it. don't make me do it, mate."

his evening visit was late that night. you had already prepared dinner, setting it up for when he was to arrive. from what he's told you, he hasn't had human food in a long time. he told you that gods didn't need to eat nor sleep. you had decided to make him food for when he comes, wanting him to have food even if he doesn't need it.

the gust of wind from deceiving angel wings swept across his face. messy hair cascaded over his face, and for once, the blood god had found a problem he didn't know he could solve.

ten minutes. twenty minutes. thirty minutes. you sighed at the mocking tick of the clock, each passing second being another sign that he wasn't going to come. perhaps he had better things to do. frowning, you began to gather the food up, knowing you wouldn't eat it all, before the familiar two knocks came at your door.

rushing over, once you had opened it, you were surprised to see something different than you were used to.

technoblade was there, but he looked different. more angry, perhaps even upset.

worried, you frowned at the god. "are you okay?" you asked, hoping the man was alright. the god only nodded, staring at the ground. he came back to you after a moment of silence, sighing. "yes, just got caught up in some things. nothing for you to be concerned of." he said, brushing you off before you could even speak.

when technoblade had gone back to his temple, rubbing his temples with a sigh, something unexpected had greeted him. there was philza, perched on the window with a firm look of coldness. "visiting the mortal again, were you, mate?" he asked once he had came into view. technoblade had half a mind to tell him to fuck off.

that night provided a great distraction from what would come the following days.

no words were spoken from technoblade afterwards. the betrayal of another friend, a promise to do something about his meetings, had wounded him. he didn't want to lose philza, but also had begun to realise something ─ he had caught feelings for the mortal.

for you, who had been the sunshine on his darkest days. call it a cliche, but technoblade truly didn't know happiness if you weren't by his side. having watched countless deaths and falls of kingdoms over the many, many years of being alive, the man had never found as great of a comfort than by your side. you were the sun to his moon, a forever shining force to his immortal darkness.

though the moon and sun are destined to never touch.

that night, philza had technoblade bring him to your house under promise of telling the council. they had shown up to your house late at night, when the world was asleep. it had been abrupt, the two males coming into your home. you were shaking, scared as to what this meant. the angel of death and the blood god inside your home could mean nothing good.

and you were right. that night, that forsaken night, technoblade had been cursed in front of your eyes. the wide eyed look on his face, the shock of what a former friend could do. you tried to reach out for him, but were stopped by philza. he permitted you to stay still, or else your blood would be on your walls.

"technoblade, the blood god and the god of war, i hereby sentence you to an eternity of reincarnation. as long as you are alive, your lover, [name] [last name], will be killed and reincarnated. only ever letting you get close enough to hardly touch them."

your words were caught in your throat, the cruel punishment knocking the wind out of you. philza's eyes shone, bright in an unholy way, rising up with his wings behind him. technoblade had felt the burning sensation of a marking, a forever sign of the curse, on the side of his neck. a flower had been burnt into the side of his neck, your favorite flower.

"i'm sorry, technoblade." were the last words you heard before a sword made of light had stabbed through your stomach.

the blood god had frantically scooped up your body in his arms, panicking for the first time since you've seen him. he tried to get you to say anything, although the words were too hard to say, no matter how hard you tried to get them out. he reassured you would be okay, despite knowing the inevitable would happen.

"you should've listened to him ... heh, you're a dumbass, you know that?"

you took your last breath seconds later.

#dream smp x reader #dream smp x you #dream smp x y/n #mcyt x reader #mcyts x reader #technoblade x you #technoblade imagines #technoblade x reader #dream smp techno #technoblade x y/n #angst #c!technoblade x reader #( ♡ ) + bones writes #( ♡ ) + oneshots

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ilikemesometaetaes · 3 years

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Set Me Free (M)

Min Yoongi Oneshot

•••> Author: @ilikemesometaetaes

•••> Summary: You are just an ordinary woman with a strange aura about you that Yoongi can’t seem to resist- even past the compulsion of his mentor. The question is: why?

•••> Pairing(s): Yoongi/Reader

•••> Requested by @itsgottabeyoo-ngs : “Hi daddy, One shot request with vampire Yoongi x brat reader. Bonus points for adding in choking or spitting idk make it filthy k thanks love you byeeeee xoxoxoxox”

•••> Word Count: 10.95k

•••> Rating: 18+

•••> Warnings: smut, oral (female receiving), unprotected sex, murder, attempted murder, slight choking/strangulation, dirty talk, biting, blood drinking, spitting, violence, horror, vampire/human relationship, cursing, mental attachment, thirsty Yoongi, Yoongi thinks he’s scary, but he’s totally not

Thank you for the request, babe! This one is a bit to unpack, as you can see. I hope you enjoy :)

~#~

Yoongi never claimed to have his thirst under complete control.

He stands before his brothers once every week for the feed, snarling as he consumes his share of blood, while the others bear witness so as to provide him ceremonial protection- a vampire is very vulnerable while he consumes blood. The polydipsia made one lose all form of reason and sense of mind, driven to the brink of animalistic insanity when it was in the process of mildly quenching the eternal hunger.

Polydipsia, used to describe his level of thirst, was the word made just for him in his own little world.

It wasn’t normal thirst, like a human, but the savage-like impulse to drink and drown until he could swim in a river of blood and take deep lungfuls of the crimson fluid. The impossible desire to consume and be completely consumed by blood until he became it himself always loomed over his mind in his early days as a Deadblood- a vampire youngling- causing him to search for a word that could completely describe his affliction.

Then the Greeks begun transforming their language, perfecting the word that he could use to chronicle his need. He had mulled over the thought throughout the few centuries that the word came into existence, truly connecting with it on a level that was deprived of him when his soul was taken from his body.

But the word was not only used to describe normal thirst; it described the abnormal desire to drink as a symptom of disease- and a disease is what Min Yoongi had.

From the days he explored the lands of Goryeo as a young teenage boy, he knew that disease racked every inch of the world. Street beggars, riddled with sicknesses and incurable illnesses, asked him for coin, food, clothing, and any necessities that could potentially carry them through the night into another sunrise. But the one thing that they begged for the most was water.

Liquid life. Yoongi thinks back on the ironic turn of events and how, even as a privileged boy of nobles, he understood just how desperate a person got when they were deprived of the one, singular fluid that supported life as he knew it.

As Yoongi approached adulthood, he was promoted and bestowed larger honors in the name of the Min clan, allowing him to provide more for the beggars and lower-class individuals that he came across on the streets every day- not that his father would find out.

Until he did.

Yoongi recalls the moment he knew that his father figured out that his son was spoiling the family riches on the lower class. They weren’t sitting down for dinner and having a conversation nor taking a stroll along the river like the two of them normally would- it was quite surprising, really. Yoongi had to applaud his father for the creativity of the circumstance.

He knew that his father figured out his whereabouts when he found himself bleeding out in the middle of the woods with three arrows, adorned with the Min clan crest carved into the wood, sticking out of his chest. He was sent to look for his supposedly lost little sister under the direction that she was probably at a watering hole- which Yoongi had never heard about- about forty-five minutes from the edge of Goryeo’s walls.

Many people ventured outside of the city to fend for food and necessities, or to find civilization elsewhere, so it wasn’t surprising to him that his curious baby sister wanted to see for herself what life was like outside of the city’s limits.

As Yoongi lay dying on the soil of the earth, staring up at the greenery of the trees above while they lightly swayed in the breeze, he realized that everyone, regardless of social-class or physical health, was fighting the same, universal disease: death. No one could escape it and no one was safe. At least, that’s the epiphany he had in an effort to comfort himself while he felt his heart painfully struggle to beat with an arrowhead lodged into it. Copious amounts of blood spurt out with each pulse of his damaged organ.

And then the universe decided to set him free from death with a cure worse than the disease itself.

Yoongi doesn’t remember who his creator was. He doesn’t remember how long he spent on the forest floor with the arrows still in his chest. He doesn’t remember waking up.

His memory of his new life started from the moment his consciousness returned, in the exact second that he found a set of vocal cords clutched in the palm of his hand, dripping with crimson, after apparently ripping them out of a young boy who was actively collapsing in front of him. The boy, who Yoongi immediately recognized from the streets of Goryeo, was choking on his own gore as he clutched at his now nonexistent throat, staring up at his killer with a jumbled expression that silently begged for help yet withdrew from terror.

It took Yoongi five years of trekking everywhere and no where while attempting to control his thirst before he found new meaning. He mostly had a hold on the scorch in his throat by staying away from the city and surrounding villages before he met another and figured out what he became.

The woman- no, girl?- appeared young yet spoke as if she had seen countless winters, the wisdom of a million middays glowing behind her carmine eyes. She was the first person he had met who did not end up dead within the first two minutes of scenting them on the wind.

“You are a vampire. You survive purely on the life essence of others. You are still a young Deadblood. Judging by your age, you should become a Redblood soon.” She sat with her back to him, overlooking the valley below the then-unnamed Odaesan mountain that they sat perched upon. “Do you know who created you?”

“Created me?” He asked. “What do you mean? My parents?”

She turned, her vibrant red eyes continuing to shock him. Did his own orbs look like this?

“I mean, who turned you?” She seemed to look at him incredulously, shocked by his lack of knowledge. “Who gave you their venom- their shi?”

“I…” Yoongi tried very hard to remember anything before the burning sensation that scraped like rocks against the insides of his bones and flesh, but all he could see and feel was fire and agony- and then blood. He couldn’t help but think with a grain of salt, disbelieving of the method in which he was born into his new life. “I don’t know. I just remember from my first kill.”

“Strange.” The other vampire muttered, returning her gaze to the valley. “Strange, indeed.”

Yoongi was always the silent type, only interacting when he needed to as a habit formed to avoid the questioning glare of his father when he returned home late on certain occasions.

But he couldn’t help the burning desire of curiosity within him, a welcome distraction from the need to feed within him. He had so many questions.

“You may ask your questions, Min Yoongi.” The woman sighed, not even bothering to spare him a glance whilst she spoke. The man was shocked to find that she knew his name without him telling her.

“How do you know my name?” The new revelation took precedent in his mind, hoping that she was not an enemy of his clan.

“A valid question.” She mused. “Anticipated, but valid. I suppose I’ll answer your question to the best of my ability.”

Yoongi shifted his position in preparation, a new habit that he formed in his new life. He learned from the first time he moved to stretch that his body did not need to be stretched as it usually did. He never ached, never cramped, never tired, and never lost energy. Despite the lack of his emotions in their usual form, he knew that it should have been unsettling to find such a new change within him, so he did the sensible thing of pretending that he needed to.

He pretended he needed to breathe- after two hours at the bottom of a lake he stumbled upon in his aimless journey, he was amazed to find that he required no oxygen to continue existing- and that he didn’t need to sleep nor use the bathroom. He would practice taking breaths, trying to inhale and exhale evenly without becoming allured to the pungent yet undeniably attractive scent of animal blood so that he could finally smell the forest again. He pretended to go to sleep and wake up with the urge to relieve himself of the noneixstent pressure in his bladder despite not having any of the instincts he once had.

The woman spoke, answering his first question.

“I can hear your thoughts. They’re not necessarily specific, but I can hear when you are wistful- like you are now- or when you are curious or sad or angry. I can hear the causes of these emotions.” She paused. “It comes with the gift of my second life. A form of protection, if you will.”

“Why would I need protection when I am invincible? I’ve seen the things I can do and what my body can endure.” He briefly recalled repeatedly jumping from a cliff, automatically landing on his feet no matter how hard he tried not to. Before, he had a will to survive with a choice of dying, but now? There was no comprehensible choice. “There is nothing that can hurt me.”

Yoongi couldn’t help cocking his head to the side like a confused dog when the woman let out a breathless laugh.

“Because, young one,” She looked at him with her eyes again, a look of mock endearment filling them. “You are not invincible.”

For a moment, Yoongi did not believe her. He believed that the liquid running through his veins was pure ichor, an essence of the gods, but when he returned her look of sincere truth, he understood that dying was still very much possible.

Thanking the gods, Yoongi looked to the ground and began toying with his fingers at his revelation. He could stop murdering people, willing to die in order to do so.

The woman shook her head. “No, Min Yoongi. You do not have to die to stop killing humans. In fact, it is the reason I have not killed you yet. You are unaware of the possibilities.”

His head perked up at the comment, suddenly eager to learn.

“How? How can I live without killing?” All he could see was the young boy that he had murdered in cold blood; the boy’s warm brown eyes staring up at him as he watched the life drain from them burned into his memory- he didn’t even know the boy’s name. The boy could not have been older than his own sister.

“I never told you that you could continue to live without killing. Of course, you have to kill. But you do not have to kill people.” The woman nodded her head down the mount. “Do you smell that? Do you smell the life that lives throughout this mountain?”

Yoongi attempted to focus on his senses but could only feel the thirst once again tormenting his throat. As soon as the woman shifted his attention back to the aroma of life, he salivated. Of course, he smelled the animal’s scents, but he could also detect traces of human life upwind that completely took away his desire for anything but humans.

“Push the thirst aside to open your senses. Embrace them. Embrace your power and your abilities. Focus on those.”

Again, he tried to push the scorch in his throat to the side, only to find that it was an impossible feat seeing as he had not fed in several months. He wanted human blood so badly.

“Poor child. I did not realize how weak you were.” She let a grimace morph her features, the first true expression of genuine emotion that Yoongi had seen on her. “Come sit in front of me. I will help you.”

For a moment, Yoongi hesitated. Was she going to kill him? He was not sure, but after a few more thoughts to himself, he realized that he had nothing to lose. Following her direction obediently, he moved to sit with his legs crossed in front of the woman.

“Now, close your eyes and listen to my voice.” She raised her hands to his head, placing her fingertips on his temples, and began whispering while he let his eyes flutter closed.

He felt as if he was mentally hit by a charging bear.

The woman’s words echoed in his mind, seating themselves amongst every corner and crevice that they could touch before Yoongi could understand what was happening. Shocked by the feeling of being intruded upon, he tried to push back against the mind-numbing force of her words, uncomfortable and feeling violated by the sensation. Instead of stopping them, her voice just broke down his amateur attempt at a mental barrier and pushed its way further into his brain. He was helpless to her superior mental awareness and gift.

“You will not focus on the thirst. You will focus on your abilities. Focus on the blood of animals and the blood of those already dead.”

And Min Yoongi had no option but to obey for he was forced into a dieted life.

But as he stands, thousands of years later, in the middle of your kitchen whilst watching you silently with the inferno of the blazing sun in his esophagus, he couldn’t help the need that overcame him. He could not obey his mentor; miraculously and horrifyingly, the gift of his mentor did not work with you.

He was impelled by his mentor’s gift, effectively removing most of the bloodlust he had for humans. In his lifetime, after the unavoidable command was bestowed upon him, he had only killed a handful of humans when he was consumed by the thirst after living in self-induced exile for so long. But standing before you, he may have needed to add a finger to that handful depending on what you did next.

Yoongi first clocked you on his radar the moment you walked into the small coffee shop he was occupying for the later part of the morning.

Building a friendship with you was quite easy.

You were bright and warm and everything wonderful upon meeting him. Your smile was just shy of naive, yet he couldn’t help the alien tugs on his heart when watching you giggle.

“How old are you, Yoongi?” You asked while circling the straw in your caramel macchiato.

“Old enough.” He chuckled, looking down with what you perceived as shyness.

“Oh?” You laughed with him. “And how old is enough for you?”

“I could ask you the same question. How old do you think I am?” He met your eyes, once again shocking you with their beautifully vibrant shade of brown.

“Well…” You trailed off, studying his facial features closely- the hint of a permanent smile line, fresh haircut, and no wrinkles alluded that he couldn’t be over thirty. “I’m gonna say… twenty-five?”

The man across from you smiled. “Very close. I’m twenty-seven.”

So he wasn’t that much older than you. You could totally do him.

Yoongi noticed the flash of lust that ghosted through your pupils for a split second, recognizing the dilation of them as you glanced at him. He watched you stick your chest out a bit more, begin fiddling with your hair more often, and part your lips while you let the thoughts of sexual satisfaction run across your mind.

“Twenty-seven, huh? That’s not bad at all.” You smiled, letting your tongue lightly swipe along your bottom lip unconsciously.

Yoongi zeroed in on the action with a piercing gaze, watching as the muscle seemed to move in slow motion tauntingly, daring him to dig his fangs into it savagely before tearing it from your mouth to feel the blood pouring from your lips onto his face.

His body reacted sensibly, blood rushing like fake adrenaline to awaken his better instincts- rushing everywhere- and making his jeans become uncomfortably tight as they restrained his filling manhood.

Blood drinking was as exciting as it was satisfying for a vampire. An extremely personal and holy moment, consuming lifeblood was the most raw and sexual moment to experience. A vampire could not experience real sexual desire without it.

He dug his fingers into the faux leather of his side of the booth until they broke through the material to restrain himself from attempting to attack you in the middle of the day.

Quickly, gaining his sense of mind once again, he tore more holes into the leather to round out the punctures so that it could appear as if the holes were from wear and tear.

The scent of your blood transpierced by the hormones and adrenaline beginning to flow through your veins made it just that much more implausibly alluring. Yoongi admitted that you were a beautiful and kind woman from the conversation throughout the morning. He also knew that you had a deviant side due to the surprisingly quick appearance of your lust-filled gaze.

Yet he couldn’t help the urge to murder you on the spot.

He knew that he couldn’t touch you. The supernatural safety of the sun that shone on your body prevented him from laying a finger on your skin without his own lighting aflame. He learned the protection of sun rays on humans the hard way.

His fifth human victim, a monk who travelled the heights of Mount Odaesan- Yoongi’s sanctuary and home- for a religious trial, travelled early in the morning as the sun was rising. Yoongi smelt the sweat dripping from the man’s skin instantly. In the small cove he called home, he tried to resist the urge to kill the man for he hadn’t smelt human blood in several years.

His mentor’s words were ever present. ‘Focus on the blood of animals and the blood of those already dead.’

Despite having those words affecting his instincts, Yoongi had managed to convince himself that the monk was a dead man standing once he smelled remnants of a virus tainting his scent, effectively bypassing the impulsion of the woman’s mind control.

Yoongi found himself rushing at the man without a second thought, fangs bared and fingers curled in preparation to tear the man’s limbs from his body. However, before he could get within two feet of the vulnerable monk, he was thrown back by an invisible and boiling hot force that left him screaming in agony and flying through the air.

The monk quickly ran back down the mountain in terror, yet Yoongi could pay no mind as he lay on the forest floor, ready to die once again as his skin singed and fell from his flesh like swamp sludge.

As his throat tore itself raw from his wails of misery, his body writhed in and out on itself in complete and utter anguish. The smell of burnt flesh overwhelmed his nostrils, pungent and nauseating in every possible way. How he was able to focus on something other than the pain was beyond him.

Despite the burning, Yoongi could feel his aflame skin beginning to heal itself. Clawing through the dirt, he felt the blood stored in his stomach rushing through his veins to the broken and severed ones, rebuilding them and recreating the network of arteries necessary to begin restoring his expanse of skin.

Before long, the pain subsided and Yoongi was no longer screaming. The entire ordeal lasted approximately twenty minutes- long enough that Yoongi no longer heard the footsteps of the monk and long enough for him to process the events that had just happened.

He was thankful that he became a Redblood with the ability to use consumed blood throughout his body, unsure of what would have happened to him if he had been a Deadblood at the time. Deadbloods burned through consumed blood quicker than a spark from a flint could ignite kindling into a flame.

He definitely needed to ask the woman, Zizi, about it. And he definitely needed to track that monk until sundown so that he could get rid of any loose ends.

Yoongi grimaced slightly, remembering the occurrence like it was yesterday, as he sat across from you.

You were still looking down at your cup in blissful unawareness of his inner turmoil and life that he’s lived thus far. You definitely were not dense enough to not notice his gaze on your skin, but you were definitely ignorant of the fact that he was thinking about what would happen if he could just get you to move a few feet to the right to gain cover from the direct line of the sun. He just needed to get you into the shadows.

“Y/N,” He called your name. You instantly looked up in response. “How old are you?”

“Old enough.” You teased him back with his own words. He let a small smile thin his lips before he looked down to hide it. When you followed his gaze and noticed that he didn’t have a drink, you jumped to the opportunity.

“Can I buy you a drink, Min Yoongi?” You asked him.

“Oh, I’m not particularly craving coffee at the moment.” He paused and held his breath, as if trying to find the words to say. “I just like to sit here sometimes and enjoy watching the street.”

“Well,” Ask him! Ask him out! Yes! Do it! Your head screamed at you to be confident. You knew he was the shy type; you would be waiting all day for him to make a move and you just didn’t have the time nor patience for that. “Let me get you a drink at my bar?”

The man looked mildly impressed for a moment. “You own a bar?”

“A small one.” You swiftly added. “It’s not a big popular one or anything but I didn’t want a place too big. I like the smaller things.”

Yoongi couldn’t help but smile. You were a kind and beautiful woman living a simple life. He dreaded the moment that he was going to have to kill you.

“I take it you’re pretty well off then?” He asks. “And please don’t take this as me digging around. I’m just curious.”

“Don’t worry about it. Yeah, actually.” You laughed and sat back in your chair, looking out the window onto the street as people and cars passed by. “I’ve always been pretty lucky for some reason. The gods always seem to be in my favor and give me what I want.”

Yoongi smirked for a moment. If she wants me, she can have me. Then, I’ll have her.

When Yoongi found himself in the prime position to attack you in your kitchen, several weeks later, he knew. He finally had you where he wanted you.

A handful of dates that he found quite pleasant were all it took.

You turned out to be just what he thought- a strangely attractive and alluring woman, the scent of your blood aside. You exhumed an odd magnetism about you that Yoongi had never felt from a human. He regretted the decision of waiting so long to kill you seeing as he was considering letting you live. But he knew that he couldn’t do that.

With your back turned to him, busying yourself with dinner, he could easily snap your neck so that you wouldn’t scream and struggle- and you would be dead almost instantly. A quick and nearly painless death was what you deserved. He didn’t want you to suffer at all.

However, just as he crouched in preparation to lunge at you, you spoke.

“Are you ready for dinner, babe?” You asked him.

He smiled devilishly, venom filling his mouth as he salivated. “Yes, I am. I’m starving.”

You chuckled. “Okay.”

“Go and sit down at the table.”

It was the most simple of commands. Telling Yoongi to sit down wasn’t an order. You weren’t demanding him to do it. You never demanded anything of him. It was a mere suggestion in your eyes.

Yet Yoongi felt his body moving to the dinner table without a second thought, unable to resist obeying your words.

What in the everliving fuck.

He sat quickly, impotent to move from his spot while he waited for you to bring the food from the counter. His thirst obliterated his throat, causing it to seize up and restrict any air that he could previously breathe, but he sat in wonder as you seemed to hold power over him that he had never felt before.

You turned with both of your dinner plates in hand and he quickly smothered the panic on his face, wondering what in the world had just happened.

“I’m not at all a chef, but you better eat everything.” Yoongi tested your words, seeing if the inclination to finish your food was present, only to find a slight mental nudge- as he expected. You didn’t tell him to do anything; you merely made an ‘or else’ statement.

No longer desperate to kill you for the time being, Yoongi sat still and waited for your next words. Once you sat the plate in front of him, you uttered a joke.

“Dig in.”

And dig in Yoongi did. He picked up his fork and scooped into the pasta you made without any willingness to deny you.

The pasta wasn’t fantastic in any sort of the word- It was plain, although it could be due to the fact that it wasn’t at all what he truly craved and needed. It was like eating a piece of stale bread while he was offered a perfectly cooked and outright juicy steak on a silver platter. The food that he ate wouldn’t be consumed by his body and used for nutrients; the shi in his stomach would burn it to nothingness within the next few hours.

Uncontrollably, Yoongi shoved mouthful after mouthful into his mouth- he couldn’t stop. Once he finished chewing one bite, his hand was immediately bringing him another, and then another. Despite lacking the need to breathe, Yoongi felt himself suffocating with each bite as the realization that he could do nothing except eat his food settled in his mind.

“I see you were hungry.” You laughed, unaware of his predicament. Yoongi’s eyes shot up to yours and silently hoped you would give him another command so that he could stop the foolishness.

You, however, just sat there feeling sort of proud of yourself- not only for making an edible meal, but for making one Yoongi seemed to enjoy. Even though it was slightly shocking to see him out of his usually cool character, acting like a man suffering from hunger, you couldn’t help but find it undeniably cute.

Eating slowly while watching him, you let your feelings for him come to the surface.

Yoongi was utterly beautiful. His black hair that fell over his face while he was cleaning up the last bits of his plate was just long enough to cover his eyes, yet as he looked at you without reservation, you felt he had a clear line of sight straight into your soul.

His skin was nearly flawless save for the light and narrow scar that cut into his right eye. Others found the scar intimidating and ugly, but you found it rather attractive. Yoongi, with his uncanny physical allure, was undeniably the most beautiful man you had ever seen.

Your body was alight with joy and content. In the few weeks that you got to know him, liking him was incredibly easy and having him in your home, in a domestic setting, lit your heart on fire with the possibility of falling in love with him.

He was incredibly easy to love, you discovered. Everything about him begged you to fall for him. As if the universe created him just for you, Min Yoongi was the epitome of perfection- in your eyes, anyway.

Briefly, you had shown a photo of him to your mother. She became unsettled instantly by his appearance.

“He’s so pale. And a little scary-looking.” She squinted at the photo you took of him when he wasn’t looking. You never brought him up again to your mother, disliking the fact that she didn’t like your potential boyfriend and found him scary.

The picture just happened to be your favorite- being because he didn’t like pictures and it was the only one you had of him.

He kindly asked you to not take photos of him. When you prompted him as to why during one of your more intimate moments at your bar, he only answered playfully as he held you close to him, lips begging for you to kiss them.

“Because I don’t want to leave evidence.” He whispered, breath tickling your nose. His body was warm and sturdy, muscles rippling under your touch as you clung to his shoulders.

“Evidence from what?” You asked breathily. The heat in your panties had increased tenfold over the last few minutes as his eyes grew hungrier with want. Yoongi’s fingers dug into your waist painfully, pulling you so close that you barely had room to expand your lungs to breathe, yet you couldn’t help the edgy feeling of how rough he could be with you.

“From when I eat you up.”

Thinking back on the memory, you shivered involuntarily, hoping that tonight might be the night you actually get to have him. He’d made you wait for a little over a month and you had no idea why. You definitely felt him straining through his pants a few times. But no kisses or anything further than the pressing of your bodies was accomplished.

Yoongi finished his plate and sat upright briskly, pulling you from your wishful thinking with a jump.

“Y/N,” He nearly growled, shocking you. “What else do you want me to do?”

The fork you were holding clattered to your plate instantly. Wow. He’s sizzling hot.

“I-“ You stuttered a bit. “I- uh.”

“Spit it out.” He hissed. You jumped again, trying to find the words to say with the heat growing in your panties.

Quickly, you answered him. “I want you to take me to my bedroom.”

“Thank god.” He groaned, getting up slowly with a smirk on his face. “Is that just a request? Because I can walk out now if you don’t actually want this.”

“Take me to my bedroom, Yoongi.” You stood slowly, carefully, as if you were afraid to trigger him.

Yoongi pushed in his chair and moved towards you at a speed that was almost inhuman. You yelped in astonishment as Yoongi attempted to control himself- he couldn’t bring you to your bedroom at his natural speed or else he would have a very motion-sick human to worry about. Instead, he trembled with the effort to resist your command at full force, knowing that the only way it was possible was due to the fact that he was still, in fact, taking you to your bedroom.

Picking you up was easier than breathing. You weighed absolutely nothing in his arms because of his advanced strength, so when he felt you trying to assist him in carrying you by holding your body stiffly, he huffed out a laugh whilst he walked.

“Relax, woman. You are as light as a feather.”

You blushed under his words, leaning into his chest to hide your cheeks.

“Stop that.” He growled, entering your bedroom. You looked up at him and he couldn’t tear his eyes from the blood that rushed to your cheeks. “I can’t resist if you do that.”

“Then don’t.” You whispered. Your heart pounded in your chest, begging him to hear it. “Don’t resist.”

His fangs came forth immediately, for he could not resist your command while he flew to your bed to throw you down. Despite your unknowing of what you were telling him to do, he fostered no opposition to what he was about to do.

The roughness of his throw startled you for a moment as you looked up at his vastly approaching figure, only to grow terrified when you caught sight of his face.

The veins protruding out of his temples and cheeks pumped blood straight into the whites of his eyes, turning them completely bloodshot, as they framed the now-crimson irises. Long incisors protruded from his mouth as he opened it with a hiss, revealing the way his human teeth shifted apart to allow his inhuman ones to break through the gums. Instantly, you parted your lips to scream.

Yoongi was upon you instantly, hand covering your mouth and silencing your cry while he snarled menacingly, yet he couldn’t help but feel remorse for killing you.

“I’m sorry.” He whimpered through his animalistic demeanor. “I can’t stop.”

You were screaming below his hand and, instantaneously, he had an idea.

He was leaning forward slowly, able to slow himself in the process of not resisting you. “Y/N,” He strained, changing the frequency of his talent, and waited for you to silence yourself in order to listen to him. He took his hand off of your mouth slowly after he heard your heart calm itself past your weeping. “Tell me to stop.”

“Stop!” You sobbed whilst clawing at his chest and kicking at his legs. “Don’t kill me!”

Not a second passed before Yoongi flew off of you, throwing his back to your wall with a loud thud while he cursed lowly.

You scrambled to the headboard of your bed, pressing your back against it in an attempt to gain some distance between the two of you. Your eyes were wide, chest heaving with your breath short, as you looked at the man in front of you.

“I-“ Yoongi stuttered for the first time in decades. “I’m sorry.”

“Your eyes!” Your burst out. You were unable to contain your fear and shock, so you displaced it into your curiosity. “Y-your- Your face! Your teeth!”

Yoongi stood against the wall, breathing just as hard as you, with his eyes cast to the floor in the process of trying to control his facial features. He could no longer kill you. The thought revolted him- every time he considered drinking your blood, the idea was banished from his mind with a sense of nausea following. Good god. She is unaware of her ability yet I am completely at her mercy.

“I apologize. I couldn’t help myself.” He breathed. What Yoongi forgot to take into account was the fact that he began implementing the gift of his second life on you the moment he stepped foot through your threshold, so your mind was completely scrambled by this point.

It was nighttime now; he could not leave your house no matter how hard he tried. He knew of the fallacy that vampires needed to be invited in and he found himself giggling from time to time at how close humans got to the actual lore of his kind.

He could enter your house, uninvited, during the day. He could lurk every corner of your abode without a bother, yet when night fell and the sun finally set, he would be stuck inside until morning. He knew he would be staying the night in your house the moment he agreed to have dinner with you. If he attempted to enter through your door during the night, however, he would have no luck- the night’s protection would convince his brain to walk away from your home without any further reconsideration until he was a good distance from it.

He was in the first position now.

He wished that he could leave you and disappear from your life without a trace so that you could live a peaceful and happy life without him, but he was afraid that it was impossible now with sundown a mere two hours prior. Your powers were no match for the natural protection of the earth. The both of you had a long night ahead of yourselves.

So he used his ability. Yoongi gave you control- rational thought, rather. His gift allowed him to grant organization of the mind and precise focus to others, but he could also take it away.

Upon entering your home, he began the process of slowly but surely ebbing away your barriers and logical thought- he couldn’t do it too fast or else you would panic like you were now. With a presently impossible-to-kill human whose heart was beating out of her chest and a command to not kill you forcing him into submission, he was obligated to prevent you from having a heart attack that was caused by him.

With laser-like focus, he channeled his gift straight into your open mind. Yoongi rebuilt the walls he had previously broken down over the past few hours, restocked your jumbled thoughts into their proper spaces, and flowed his energy through each corridor of judicious conception so that you could continue to develop your focus into that of supernatural proportion. He hoped that you, with a new mind, would tell him to get away from you and to kill himself. Dying by the hands of such a robust ability wouldn’t be too bad of a way to go.

You, however, never had such a decisive mind. Your mind was never clearer and you had never felt such clarity in your thoughts before. It allowed you to feel the magnetism that he radiated.

You knew he was a vampire. You don’t remember how you knew or how you recognized it, but you knew that he was not the first of his kind you had come across. Maybe it was the obvious fangs that gave it away.

“Yoongi,” You whispered. “You’re a vampire.”

His eyes, now back to their normal gorgeously coffee-bean shade, flicked up to yours in surprise.

“You know what I am?” He spluttered, flabbergasted. “You don’t think I’m a demon? Or the devil?”

“I’m not stupid. I know a vampire when I see one.” Your tone did not waver nor shake despite being a potential victim to a vampire. Was it the adrenaline?

“Then you know that I am a danger to you.” He said lowly, shock still evident on his face, while he began gravitating towards your bedroom door to leave.

“No. Stay.” You found yourself pining for his presence while he froze up in his spot. You eyed the action analytically. “If you were a danger to me, I wouldn’t be alive right now. You had plenty opportunity to kill me.”

“That’s the thing,” His hands pressed to the wall and scratched into it with the effort to move further from you. “I don’t have much of a choice anymore.”

“And why is that?” You relaxed your body and slowly slid your way across the bed towards him.

“Because I can’t.” Yoongi actually gasped for air as you stood from your bed to slowly approach him. “Y/N. Don’t come near me.”

“Why don’t you have a choice?” You ignored his warning, fully aware of the risk you were taking yet uncaring of the consequences. You were too focused on the fact that you actually wanted him.

Yoongi could not move from his spot, a side effect of your command to stay, but he refused to meet your eyes. The irresistible scent of your blood clashing with the order to not kill you fucked with his mind in ways he never experienced, creating an excruciatingly splitting headache between his temples. He wanted to drink from you so bad yet he could not move a single muscle.

“You can tell me to do anything. You can tell me to stay away from you. You can tell me to leave you alone. Hell, you can tell me to kill myself and I’d do it.” He ground out, attempting to press his back further into the wall as he felt your body heat against his skin. You came too close. He could smell your hormones lacing through your blood, triggering a wash of his shi over his dry tongue and a yearning to tear you apart overriding his senses.

He wanted to sink his fangs into your flesh so badly that he was beginning to scare himself. Allowing his venom to seep into your system would undoubtedly send you into ecstasy; you would only feel a pinch of pain as his saliva instantly burned through your nerves and set them alight. He could kill you while you were in pleasure; you wouldn’t feel anything but bliss as he drained the life from you.

“And why do you, a powerful creature such as yourself, allow me to have this power over you?” You asked. Was he in love with you? You definitely could love the man with how much you felt drawn to him but, for crying out loud, it had only been a few weeks.

“I don’t allow it. You are a gifted human. You possess this power over me.” Although Yoongi enjoyed having a calm conversation with you, he couldn’t help but feel bad that he used his gift on you. It was almost an unfair playing card- a “get-out-of-jail” card.

Because you should be running, terrified and screaming, even with his ability active in your mind. Maybe he had used it too much? Yoongi recalled the one time he went overboard with his gift, driving a man to suicide as he focused too much on the meaning of life and the regretful things he had done. Immediately concerned, Yoongi reached out a mental tether- a rare talent amongst his kind- to gauge your stability.

What he found, instead, was a dark and curling line attaching to his, pulling it in as quickly as Yoongi offered it. Before he could reel back away from it, it was fully intertwined and pulling his line to attach to you, only to rear back and completely obliterate his senses when it entered his head.

No. No no no. It’s impossible.

Yoongi was moving forward and caging you against the bed at full speed before he could stop himself, nestling his body between your eagerly opening legs as a hiss escaped his lips. Immediately, he realized that he broke through your command unwavered. The thirst came back at full force when you moaned from the friction on your heat.

“You’re-“ He tested the sensation of true, sexual arousal with a slow grind of himself into you, gasping with a jerk of his dick when his action squeezed his member between his body and yours. “You’re my-“

You moaned again, sitting up slightly to try and capture his lips with your own, unable to control the desire that surmounted in your heart. When he resumed his look of shock, backing away from your advance so that he could look at where your bodies touched, you spoke through the heady emotion. “I’m your what?”

“It can’t be.” He whispered. After a single beat, he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours with a crushing pressure that split your lip instantly.

The pain seared across your bottom lip and distracted you for a moment, emitting a groan deep in your throat that he matched when the taste of your blood exploded onto his tastebuds. Instead of swallowing it like he wanted to, he brought a hand to your chin and opened your lips to spit your blood, along with his venom, back into your mouth so that it would take your pain away.

For a moment, you held the mix of liquids on your tongue, unsure of what to do as no one had ever spit in your mouth before. You looked up to him with confusion extremely evident in your arched brows.

“Swallow it.” He growled.

The taste of iron and an almost sugary sweet tang of saliva was too strong for you to keep sitting on your tongue, so you did as he told you to before he kissed you again to repeat the same action. Slowly, you got into the rhythm of swallowing what he gave you.

Before long, he simply gave you his tongue, allowing you to suck the saliva from his mouth greedily. You didn’t understand why, but the taste was addicting and adding to the pulsing feeling that radiated between your legs. Were you getting lightheaded? No. This sensation was much more blissful and exciting.

He pulled away after sucking on your wounded lip once more, spitting the mixture into your awaiting mouth for a final time before sitting up to look down at your body.

His venom was already taking effect. He could smell it on your skin as it flowed through your veins and filled your system just like a virus would. It would be simple to turn you at this point. You would be his for eternity, bonded to him in ways only the Fated One of a vampire would. Yoongi shook the thought from his head as he wasn’t even sure that you were, indeed, his.

“What am I to you?” You asked genuinely, swollen lip slightly obstructing your speech.

“Don’t worry about that right now, Y/N. Right now, I am going to fuck you, okay?” He met your gaze with his dark eyes filled with confidence, knowing that you would be unable to deny him if his belief was true.

“Yes. Yes, please Yoongi.” You breathed, begging him almost drunkenly. “Please. I’m yours.”

His mind was nudged forward by a different force this time, warranting unknown instincts to play into action.

He felt his center of gravity shift. His skin grew tight and uncomfortable around his body from the emotion that wished to burst through the surface. He breathed with you. Perfectly aligned were your rhythms; his heart soared alongside your own galloping one, desperate to match you in every aspect. The sensations in his body were difficult to ignore as he felt the ancient and sacred pull of a bond lacing itself through his limbs.

Instead of pondering over the reality of it any further, he slid his hand from your chin to your shirt and pinched the fabric between his fingers. You nodded in reassurance.

Your clothes tore form your body like paper. Wrapping his fingers around your arm to keep your body in place, Yoongi ripped your thin blouse from you easily. Your breasts, made plump by the bra you wore, caught his attention the moment they were revealed. Perfect.

Instead of looking like a moron seeing exquisite breasts for the first time, he moved his hand to your dress pants so that he could rid your body of them. In under ten seconds, Yoongi had you almost bare below him. Perfect.

Not even realizing it until you brought your thumb to his lips to swipe his shi from the corner of his mouth, Yoongi shook his head at the fact that the sight of you wriggling and bare-skinned beneath him made him literally drool, but his instincts went haywire when he watched you place your thumb in your mouth to suck his venom off yourself with a low moan of appreciation at the taste.

Yoongi’s hands couldn’t move faster as he tore the clothes from his body, stripping himself bare to reveal himself to you. He wanted to give you everything. To open his mind and spread everything out for you to see- he hoped you could handle it.

You, on the other hand, were laying below him with the desperate need to have him inside you.

You wanted him everywhere. You wanted him to sink himself into you- it seemed to be the only fathomable option. You wanted him to hold you and kiss you and surround you with everything him.

As you stared up at him with a needy look in your eyes, you couldn’t help but want him in every facet possible.

You saw yourself making love to him, holding him, kissing him- loving him. The new sensation brought on you by the psychic connection- that was all you could call it when you felt the mental attachment- brung passionate emotions through your body in an onslaught that you could barely handle. It was too much to deal with without him inside you to be with you through it yet you didn’t know if you could handle what would follow.

Yoongi could smell you through your panties; a delicious scent of the most raw tease he had ever allowed himself to indulge in. Unable to help himself, he moved down your body quickly, throwing your legs open- rather roughly- to give himself room to press his nose straight into your heat. Your aroma filled his nose as he expanded his lungs, triggering his natural instincts to push out his fangs and load his vision with blood to enhance it despite his eyes being closed. Fuck, he wanted to consume you.

You keened at the contact, closing your thighs around his head to trap him there. You felt his groan vibrate on you, driving you closer to the brink of insanity.

Without any further time wasted, he grabbed onto your panties and ripped them from you to expose your pulsating pussy to his mouth without moving his nose away from your intoxicating scent. Not a beat passed before he dug his tongue into you to scoop up your DNA-laced juices. Fuck.

Yoongi lost himself in you immediately. You whined out a small cry, unable to keep yourself from grabbing onto his hair and yanking when all you felt were his lips and tongue laving over your opening relentlessly. There was no skill nor technique in his movements; he was simply devouring you without a mind to pay attention to your bundle, yet you couldn’t stop the sensitivity from boggling your mind and driving you to an instant orgasm.

His hands squeezed your thighs around his head and, for a brief moment, he opened his eyes to look at you. The color of his eyes staring back at you was unexpected- a solid, snow white color filled his orbs and contrasted starkly with the red hue of his engorged veins and bloodshot scleras.

“Yoongi,” You whimpered from another swipe of his tongue and suck from his lips. “Y-Your eyes.”

He pulled away from you instantly at the comment, eyes widening and wet mouth hanging agape, while you let out a groan of relief- or sadness- at the lack of attention to your incredibly sensitive core.

“What color are they?” He asked.

“White.” You struggled to speak, voice cracking under the post-orgasm glow.

He took a moment to look down at your heaving body and messy pussy, jerking forward slightly at the sight of your delicious juice smeared all over your thighs. Once he had a handle on his thirst again, Yoongi met your eyes as the white faded from his irises. “Then you are her.”

“I’m who?” You reached for him, needing to hold him anywhere you could get your hands on. Yoongi caught this action immediately, the same desire to grasp you evident in his hand rushing to meet yours. It was natural to intertwine your fingers while he leaned over you to press his lips to yours in a short, uncharacteristically loving kiss.

“You are my Fated One- my mate. You hold my soul in the palm of your hand, as I do yours.” He murmured, feathering his lips over yours as he spoke.

Under normal circumstances, you don’t think you’d be able to comprehend his words with your current position with him. You were exposed to him and he was exposed to you, making you feel vulnerable and turned on beyond belief. Yoongi was reaching behind you to unclasp your bra while you took in what he had said. His thumb was brushing over your bare nipple before your bra even hit the floor.

“So-” You had to clear your throat again. “So you’re mine? Like, completely?”

He chuckled warmly at your question and you couldn’t stop yourself from reciprocating the smile.

“Yes, Y/N, I am yours.” He brought his hand down to grip your thigh and move it to the side. “I belong to you.”

Yoongi placed his dick against your folds and you watched him so do. You felt his tip capture onto your clit several times as he lathered it with your arousal languidly, preparing himself so that he could slide into you easier. “However,”

“However?” You looked up at him with a questioning look accentuated by your eyebrows.

“You are also mine.” Yoongi stopped his movement so that the head of his cock finally caught onto your opening, kickstarting your heart into a pace that you were afraid would kill you. “Do you understand that?”

He didn’t wait for you to answer.

Torturously, he began to push inside you. You widened your legs to accompany his approaching hips. As you warbled out a cry when he decided to drop his control and fill you completely in the next second, Yoongi began speaking again.

“Do you understand that everything about you,” He reared back and pushed inside you again, forcing your legs open to take him while he did so. “-is mine?”

You couldn’t respond. Your emotions were running rampant with your mind overflowing from too much stimuli while he fucked you. He spoke again without your reply and you could only pull him closer to you and take the feeling of his cock caressing your insides.

“Your lips,” Thrust. “your eyes,” Thrust. “your hair, your hands, your skin;” He punctuated each part of your body with a ram of his dick into you. “Everything, Y/N.”

Yoongi took a moment to look down at your joining bodies, smirking softly at the sight of how easily he slid inside. “-Especially this greedy little cunt of yours.”

You watched his smirk drop while he bit his lip and ground himself into you, lips parting again with a low moan whilst keeping his gaze transfixed on the sinful sight. You watched him in awe as his cock plunged so deep that it felt like it was in your throat.

He snapped his eyes to yours quickly, repeating his prior question. “Do you understand?”

Expecting to be interrupted by a thrust, you sucked your bottom lip in your mouth and braced yourself, only to be grabbed by the neck while he leaned down to bring you face-to-face. You could no longer breathe as he pulled his lips back to reveal his fangs. “I asked you if you understood, Y/N.”

With your airway restricted, you could only nod with your lip still stuck between your teeth. Did you taste blood? Promptly, you remembered that Yoongi busted your lip, yet you were confused as to why you hadn’t felt the pain of it since he first kissed you.

“And are you okay with that?” Yoongi began to nose his way down your neck once he turned your head to the side and slowed the rhythm of his hips. Right before you could answer, he released your neck to look at your face, allowing a large rush of air to enter your lungs just as you were attempting to give him an answer.

“Yes!” You released your lip to scream out at the welcome sensation of oxygen and the feel of his dick pushing it right back out of you. “I’m yours! Everything is yours!”

“Good, my love. Good.” He whispered, smiling down at you. His smile was wiped clean off his face in a heartbeat, his thrusts into you completely ceased, as he zeroed in on your lips. You licked them subconsciously, immediately tasting blood and internally cringing at the flavor of iron coating your tongue.

Yoongi attached his lips around your bottom one quickly and you felt him suck it into his mouth. Your walls squeezed tightly around his at the sensation of his tongue swiping over the spli in your engorged lip again and again. You knew that your lip would be swollen yet you couldn’t find yourself to care because it, surprisingly, didn’t hurt at all. The small bits of Yoongi’s saliva that slipped into your mouth were enough to keep you on edge, tasting like raw sugar at that point.

He began moving inside you again, starting a slow and steady pace. You whimpered into his mouth as he began taking his fill of your blood and you mirrored his thirst with the need to taste his mouth again. Your lips pressed closer to his in order to, hopefully, get a bit more of his spit.

You felt your orgasm building laggardly. It was creeping in at a speed that you were able to prepare yourself for your ascent towards ecstasy. You tightened your legs around his waist and dug your heels into the globes of his ass, pulling him in.

It wasn’t until you were bordering on your climax that Yoongi pulled away from your lip with your pop and sat up to focus on fucking you, his peace of mind obviously waning.

You saw it in his face; you saw the way he couldn’t control his veins from darkening his face; you saw the way his eyes burned white and the way he was attempting to hold himself back from attacking you.

So you did him a favor.

“Yoongi.” You mumbled past your swollen lip. “Bite me.”

Min Yoongi had no option but to obey your command.

He surged forward, pressing himself against your clit deliciously and bottoming out as he lunged for your neck with his fangs fully protruded and a warbled hiss scratching its way out of his throat. With barely enough time to prepare, you bared your neck to him once more and clutched onto his arms for dear life, hoping it wouldn’t hurt too bad.

What you weren’t expecting was for it to feel unreservedly good.

The sensation took you by surprise, warranting a loud moan to escape from your lips before you could stop it. Why did his fangs feel so good in your flesh? It should definitely be hurting. But all you could do was moan and whine like a madwoman as you felt his lips close over the puncture wounds and begin to drink your blood straight from your flesh. His tongue continuously swiped over the teeth marks in your neck, keeping them clear from your body’s natural ability to scar itself and begin blocking the escaping blood. Every lick he delivered sent a pulse straight to your clit and an automatic instinct to tighten yourself around him.

Your pussy quivered around him uncontrollably. You were so close to cumming that you could practically taste the release on your tongue. In the few moments that Yoongi took his sips from your body, his slow propulsions forward into you had become more rough and insistent- as if he was trying to split you in two. Even as you felt your life essence leave your body, you were being filled time and time again by his cock at a deep and passionate rhythm.

At the first sign of getting lightheaded from blood loss, you came- hard.

Your juices squirted around him every time he reared himself back and your eyes rolled to the back of your head while you craned your neck back into your very-bloody pillow. With no where to go, unable to still him with his supernatural strength, you were only able scream out his name.

His speed increased through your orgasm and your sweet exclamations of pure bliss drove Yoongi into a lunatic, freeing himself of control and using his uncanny speed to fuck into you. Your extremely drenched pussy, still convulsing around him was battered and raw, yet he could not find it in himself to care as he desperately surged into you over and over again so that he could fill you with the cum of several centuries. Picturing the image of your cunt spewing his release from it had him closing his jaws and pulling on your wounds harder to get more blood from you.

He knew that he couldn’t drain you. Hearing the pulse of your heart weaken slightly was enough to make him detach his teeth and lick over your wound so that his shi could assist it in healing- it would be completely sealed and unblemished in the next few hours. Instead of worrying too much about your neck, he reared back to look down at you again while he grabbed onto your hips with fervor.

You saw the drops of blood running down from Yoongi’s mouth and chin drip onto your breasts and stomach, creating an erotic and utterly unwholesome image of carnage and horror on your body, but you were unable to help yourself in feeling unsettlingly drawn to the wicked image. With a new flash of desire exploding through your body and reawakening your lust, you reached up and grabbed his neck, pulling him back down to trap him in your embrace.

The oversensitivity of your last orgasm was enough to send you hurtling to the edge of another orgasm- You just needed his fangs in you one more time. Silently begging for it, you kept your grip on his nape and softly nudged him back in the direction of your neck.

Yoongi was close. You could tell. But even past his stupor, he spoke.

“Y/N. I can’t. I took too much.” He almost whined with need, struggling to form words past his fangs.

“Just-“ Your body jolted wildly as he desperately tried to cum. “Just do it!”

Yoongi was able to deny your command, which he figured was due to not being a specific one, yet he couldn’t bring himself to leave it unanswered as his body built in preparation to release.

“I fucking can’t!” He was close to roaring at this point, gums aching to meet your flesh as he pressed his fangs into you and filled you with his essence. He wanted to so badly.

“Drink from me, dammit!” Your eyes were welling with tears of frustration, needing that small push from him to make you orgasm again- his dick hammering your cervix was too much to handle without that small bit of pain to ground you. And without hesitation nor the choice to deny you, he did.

Your orgasms were perfectly in sync as he placed his fangs back into your wounds, delicious blood spilling across his tongue once again. Liquid life. It was the perfect few words for how you tasted.

Your pussy ached with the force of how tight you squeezed around him and Yoongi groaned lowly against your neck as he pressed himself so tightly to you that you knew his hands would be leaving bruises on your hips and ass.

“Yoongi.” You sobbed as his cum filled you, pulsing spurt after warm spurt of the hot liquid onto your abused cervix. The thought of him taking your blood while he gave you his cum was too sinful for you to bear, an outburst of emotion causing you to chant his name over and over again. Never before in your life had you felt so complete and free.

You could feel your blood levels draining as you slowly came down from your climax, knowing that you would not be awake for much longer if he kept drinking.

“That’s enough.” You whispered tiredly, head becoming truly lightheaded. Yoongi, unable to rescind his teeth from your neck, kept drinking from you as the thirst and aggression of the first mating actuated his movements. “Yoongi.”

He tried to pull away- he really did- but the feeling of your blood coating his tastebuds was like finding a quarry in the middle of the Sahara Desert. He lacked the true thirst for humans for thousands of years- and now he was suffering the polydipsia for blood all over again.

“Yoongi, stop.” You commanded, testing your supposed ‘power.’

Yoongi ceased to drink from you yet his fangs were still embedded in your skin, vibrating with pleasure and need. As he stopped, he couldn’t help but whine and then growl savagely with want. The vibration of of his throaty sound in your flesh did things to your body. Unable to resist the temptation, your body clenched involuntarily around his softening cock.

Yoongi groaned again, retracting his fangs and face from your neck, and sat up once more to look at your body. With a slow hand, he stuck out his index and middle finger to smear the droplets of blood on your stomach in small circles aimlessly, picturing you as a canvas made just for him to ruin. “You’re quite the minx, aren’t you?”

“What do you mean?” You giggled deliriously, needing sleep as soon as possible.

“I mean,” Yoongi reached down to smear a droplet of blood across your hip before digging his thumb and fingers into the bone and the flesh of your ass harshly. “Your cunt is playing games with me right now.”

“How so?” You tilted your head to the side in mock confusion.

The vampire pressed his lips into a thin line and sighed almost disdainfully. You gasped as you felt his dick jerk within you, filling to stiffness once more and awakening a new cloud of lust despite the exhaustion you felt. “Well, if you want to play clueless, you can play clueless. We have eternity to teach you how to not play games with me, my mate.”

For eternity? You kind of liked the sound of that.

~#~

If you’d like to read more of my work, feel free to check out my Series Masterlist! If you’d like to read my first fic, check out the DHYB Masterlist!

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mxpseudonym · 3 years

Text

Pairing: Tommy x Fem!Reader

Summary: Polly Shelby wants you, a shy, single, slightly anxious churchgoer, to meet her nephew, the dangerous gangster Tommy Shelby. He’s more than gentlemanly at first glance, which only adds to his attractive charm. After weeks of being on edge and going no farther than heavy petting, you finally decide to push for having Tommy devour you. However, entering the bedroom with Tommy Shelby means you’ll have to follow his saucy rules. Agreeing requires a verbal, enthusiastic, “Yes, Sir” and leaving your shame at the door.

Length: 2738 words (allegedly)

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, lite Dom/sub, Consensual as all hell

A/N: Sorry I’m late, but honestly that’s very me so. Anyway, hope you’re ready because I am y/n, you are y/n, we are all y/n this time round. 😏

"Need some help?"

You looked up from where you were kneeling on the floor to see none other than Polly Shelby. You'd pulled your rosary too tight again, and the thread snapped from the tension. Now, before you could stop her, Polly was kneeling and helping you pick them up.

Polly was always kind to you. When needed, she shared her hymn book and complimented your church hats that matched your dresses particularly well. Even though you never had much to say, she was always casually chatting with you.

"You're not seeing anyone, are you?" Polly asked, catching you off guard. Was this why she was so lovely? Two women in an empty church, and one of them confesses to the other. What would God say?

"I'm not."

"You should meet my nephew, Thomas. I think you'd make quite the pair."

You smiled at the invitation. It wasn't out of flattery, per se, but more because you knew it must have been difficult for Polly to be an aunt taking on her duty as a familial matchmaker when her nephews ran the most dangerous gang in Small Health. Polly didn't seem like the type to let anything happen to you if things didn't work out on a simple date, and you felt indebted to her for being such a good friend to you. So you nodded.

"Well, if he asked me to dinner, I'm sure I wouldn't say no."

You didn't think much of it, quite frankly. In the year that you'd been in Small Heath, you'd turned down enough dinner invitations to be thought of as a godly woman and a prude. Not that you minded. You were single and childless in the newly bustling city of Birmingham, and living alone for the first time in your life was a luxury you didn't want to give up. You had your mother's pistol tucked in your bag and a vague idea of how to shoot it, so you were safe enough, but the added rumor that you were unapproachable was helpful.

If anything, what surprised you most was Thomas Shelby actually showing up to church that Sunday. Even leaning against the stone wall outside with a cigarette in hand was enough to cause a stir as the congregation poured out of the church.

He was a handsome man, and his cool, certain eyes seemed to see right through you. Even with your heart thumping in your chest, gravitating towards him was only natural. He was waiting for you, after all.

"Y/n L/n?" He asked, his voice deep and telling of his : upbringing. It fit him well, you thought as you looked at him from under your sun hat.

"Mr. Shelby," you said with a nod.

"My aunt seemingly won't rest until I ask you to dinner," he said, dipping a hand into his pocket to reach for more cigarettes.

"Oh? Is this you doing it?"

Tommy's head tilted at you as he took in your smile and looked you over. You were already a bit bold for someone who was meeting a hoodlum. A smirk crept onto his face. He wasn't complaining.

"Ms. l/n, would you have dinner with me?" He asked. You paused, causing him to sigh and pull out his cigarettes. "My aunt promised I wouldn't get rejected by a beautiful woman if I got the courage to ask. Now I'm embarrassed."

"I'm sure you're not," you said, laughing to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. "But I will go to dinner with you, Mr. Shelby. I did promise Miss Shelby." Tommy looked you over again before nodding.

"I look forward to it."

.:.

When Tuesday evening rolled around, Tommy was at your doorstep in a fine suit. If you had any doubt about your long, beaded dress being nice enough, Tommy pushed the thoughts away in an instant.

"You look stunning, Miss l/n," he praised you while holding out his arm.

"Thank you, Tommy. You look very handsome tonight as well."

There was an air of authority about him, yet his gaze was soft when he met your eyes and smiled. The car ride was comfortable enough and did nothing to prepare you for the exquisite venue. The ceilings were high, and the decor was elegant.

"It's my job to find a venue a quarter as lovely as the woman accompanying me, isn't it," Tommy said when you mentioned that it was possibly too fancy for you.

"Oh please," you murmured, waving away the compliment.

At some point throughout the night, you wondered if you'd been on a better date. Tommy took care of everything, from directing the butlers in their penguin suits to ordering things he seemed to know you'd like. ON your own, you'd have spent half an hour choosing a meal, and god only knew how long getting a server's attention. But tonight, you were left to focus on his witty storytelling that left you laughing behind your napkin. Tommy raised a hand and grasped yours. It was a small amount of contact but, perhaps the wine or the man himself made you want more of his warmth. All too soon, he gently pulled your hand down and into your lap.

"Don't hide. I want to hear more from you," Tommy said. Your cheeks flashed hot as your mind took a naughty detour for a moment.

"Okay, Tommy."

It was after dinner that truly hooked you to the man. He wrapped you in his jacket before helping you into his car and driving you home. His hand rested on your knee on the way back. Yet, when he stood in front of your door, you were greeted with a hug. You didn't realize it until you leaned into his embrace that you were a bit anxious about a goodnight kiss or even Tommy pushing his way into your apartment. Gangster or not, he was a strong man with a domineering personality. He could have anything he wanted. You hadn't guessed that meant a simple hug and a request for a second date. Still, it left you smiling as you watched his car drive away from the entrance of your apartment.

.:.

"Ah, this is favorite."

"Really?"

"Winston Churchill himself recommended it."

You turned to Tommy with a skeptical eye.

"Liar."

"How could I find the strength to lie to you, y/n?"

You rolled your eyes but turned back to the new gramophone in front of you. You had several dates with Tommy, and his gentlemanly behavior only continued. He never tried anything scandalous or forward, even as he managed to charm you to high heaven. There were times you wondered if, and perhaps even secretly hoped for, Tommy would move his hand up your thigh or kiss your neck. But it seemed that every date was an opportunity for him to learn more about you. He was more perceptive than you knew. He understood what you wanted and even made you feel like he could read your mind sometimes.

You'd had partners before, even an adulterous ex-fiance, but with them, it felt like they were trying to learn your secrets to use against you. With Tommy, it seemed like he used that information to make you happy. Your eyes lit up when he brought you your favorite kind of pastry and a new scarf in your favorite color.

His latest gift was the record player, and you shamelessly used the gift of music as an excuse to finally invite Tommy inside after a month of dating when it was clear he wouldn't do it himself.

"You're quite the gentleman, Mr. Shelby," you mused as you slow danced in your living room. Tommy's hand flattened over your spine and pulled you closer.

"I'd say you're bringing out the best in me yet, Ms. y/l/n."

He leaned forward and pressed his lips gently against yours. You moaned softly against his lips as your swaying left the rhythm of the song to match you and Tommy. There was a hunger in his kiss that made you wonder just how much he was holding back. He could have any woman he wanted, you thought, but he was patiently kissing you to your liking and no more. His hand moved to thumb the buttons on your dress, and you pulled away gently. A guiding hand on your lower back or a calloused hand helping you out of the Bentley made your heart flutter, yet you still hesitated to take things further.

"Wait, Tommy."

"Hm?"

"Not yet," you said shyly, not able to look him in the eyes. Tommy smirked at you. Little did you know, this confirmed several things he knew about you.

"Good girl."

Your eyes shot up to his in shock. What was this? His choice of words, his praise, the feeling of your insides warming all filled you with a sense of wonder. There was something in his eyes that looked satisfied and almost like an invitation. Would you accept? Accept what exactly?

Not knowing the question or your answer, you kissed him again.

.:.

Good girl.

Those two words were planted in your mind like seeds meant to sprout a specific restlessness.

You thought about it passively for a while. At first, you wondered if you should be upset. Was Tommy treating you like a child? But nothing he did ever made it feel that way. If anything, Tommy was the one person who treated you most like a woman. After a few weeks, you began to think of it too often. On your lunches with Tommy or when he took you to the horse races, you wondered if he'd repeat it. You were eager to hear him say it.

When you thought about it alone in the bath, you realized you couldn't hold it together much longer. Your eyes fluttered closed as you remembered that night. But memories turned to fantasy, and you could feel his breath against your ear.

"Good girl. You're a good girl, y/n."

Your hands moved before you could think much about it. It had been a while since you'd done this, sliding a delicate finger between your legs.

"Good girl," you whispered, your voice echoing off the walls and sending the praise back to you. You swirled your clit and repeated it again. Thinking of all the ways Tommy had touched you, even innocently, remembering the feeling and that casual smirk he wore. "Tommy, fuck, yes, I'm a good girl- ah!"

Your thighs squeezed your hand as your hips jerked with a strong release. Your eyes opened, and you stared at the ceiling.

"This is getting ridiculous."

.:.

Tommy was just a little too good at listening to you, you decided. Anything you told him not to do was met with praise, and he'd never do it again. You'd expected, based on past experiences with men, that Tommy would try to push you until you were just where he wanted you. Instead, you were the one spacing out during dinner while admiring how good he looked in his suit. Would you prefer it on or off if he were devouring you?

Tommy asked if you felt alright, which made you ashamed to even think the way you were. When did you get so lewd? It was in your apartment that Tommy let you know he knew exactly what you were thinking. You sat next to him on your couch, handing him a nightcap of brandy.

"Y/n, you know that I care about you, don't you?"

"Yes, of course." You nodded quickly. Was this actually the end of things? You hoped not.

"I care about you more than I thought I could. And one of those reasons is because you know what you want," said Tommy as he sat his glass down.

Your brows furrowed at the words. You thought you were indecisive and unable to speak up. If only Tommy knew how you'd been suffering. He continued after reading the confusion on your face.

"Whenever we come back here, you know how far you want to go, and you know when to make a man like me stop."

"Oh,"

"I won't push you, love. I'm as patient as ever, so if you want more or less, that's up to you. It's whatever you'd like."

Tommy leaned over and placed a hand on your knee reassuringly, though it only helped your heart beat harder. You shifted in your seat, uneasy with the amount of power you realized you had.

"I see."

"If we do go further, I'd like to implement a few rules. How does that sound?"

"Rules?" You tilted your head. You liked rules and systems. Even as a coat check girl, you were known for your orderly approach to things.

"Yes, if you decide that's something you want to explore, we'll talk then. But no need to worry about it until you're ready."

"I actually wanted to talk to you about doing more," you said bashfully, though it was a lie. You'd planned to simply move Tommy's hand under your skirt and have him put you out of your misery.

"Come here, y/n."

Tommy brought you to sit on his lap. His hand caressed your thigh, and the other was around your waist. Your arms wrapped around him as your reveled in the feeling of safety.

"Alright, Mr. Shelby, what are they?"

"I'm going to tell you them, and you need to remember the order, alright?" He asked, and you nodded, only to have him tsk you. "Ah, love, when I ask you a question, I want to hear your voice. I want to make sure you're sure. That's rule number one: everything we do requires a verbal agreement. Try it now."

"Oh, then, yes. I'll remember the order, Tommy."

"Good girl," he praised, making you smile softly. "Rule number two is that you can't cum until I tell you, alright sweetheart?"

"Tommy!" You jolted in surprise. You didn't know what you thought he was going to say, but that was not it. He chuckled at your reaction and squeezed your waist. He would have stopped if you asked, but for now, he was well aware that you were already starting to squirm in his lap. His sweetheart liked being a little flustered, didn't you?

"Rule number three is that I am in charge of your body. I have full access to it, and you, love," Tommy reached up and tilted your chin so he could give you a saccharine kiss, "you may not touch yourself unless I say."

The mix of salacious words and tender caresses sent waves of desire straight to the apex of your thighs. Could Tommy tell that you'd been doing just that?

"Rule four is that you have to tell me when you don't like something. You do that so well already, and I'm proud of you for that."

"T-thank you," you murmured. You couldn't help but bite your lip. Such simple words of praise were sending you into a mild frenzy.

"When you want me to stop, just say 'no more, I'm satisfied.' Can you do that?" He asked you, and you nodded. This time, however, you quickly remembered what Tommy told you before.

"Yes. No more. I'm satisfied," you repeated the phrase while wondering when you'd use it.

"You can say that for anything at all. If you're uncomfortable, or even just a little too tired."

"Okay."

You nodded in agreement, though you couldn't help be feel nervous. After weeks of nothing more than a mild groping hand, Tommy was proving to be this person? But maybe it was the way that you couldn't stop yourself from squirming, trying to press your legs together for some type of friction that made you equally excited. Tommy kissed you again and held your chin.

"Sweetheart, I promise that I'll use these to make you feel really good. I hope you can trust me, and I trust you to use that voice of yours and tell me when you don't like something, yes?"

"Yes."

"Do you agree then? Do those rules sound good to you?" He asked you directly.

"Yes," you nodded, then softly adjusted. Something in you made you want to add, "Yes, Sir."

Tommy squeezed your thigh, and you looked to his eyes to see a burning fierceness in them. He really enjoyed that. It was nice knowing he wasn't embarrassing you. You were in this together.

"Good girl."

#As You Please Series #Tommy Shelby #tommy shelby x reader #Tommy Shelby Smut #Dom!Tommy #Tommy Shelby Imagine #spicy writing

423 notes · View notes

thatphatoven · 3 years

Text

At the Beginning

Diluc x Fem! Reader; Anastasia inspired Au

The lost Princess of Fontaine, with vague memories, journeys back to her homeland with the darknight hero trying to discover her past.

Chapter one

AN; This series will set place when Diluc leaves the dawn winery after his dad's death. I apologize if the information is inaccurate or the characters are out of their personality. Also, I used google for translation for some French, so if anyone wants to correct me, feel free.

Word Count; 2,488

Unedited

Like a mystery, the night held infinite uncertainty. The blanket of stars provided the comfort of light to bystanders bustling in the streets. Boisterous waves of laughter mingled with the notes of the viola, while at the same time, the patter of feet dances amongst the cobbled pavement as constant jeers chant words of ambition.

A short and stout plump man clambers on the wooden bar table, raising his pint of beer. "Vive la Fontaine!" He bawls. The swarm of drunkards mimics his gesture, laughably heaving their beers. Everyone adores the late-night festivities of celebrations. Conspicuously for a certain Princesse. All classes of the hierarchy were divulging on her 10th birthday. The common folk paraded in the streets, as the aristocrats partake in the Château. One devotee perched away from the horde, gripping his pint considerably tight. Resentment filled this man to the brim. His eyebrows creased at the carefree atmosphere while his teeth clenched vigorously. His unsettlingly deep brown eyes leered at the ripples of his beer. The Tavener in duty glanced at him, wary of his movements. "Are you not enjoying the night, Monsieur?" he questioned. The cloaked man remained mute, desire to be alone with his brooding. Having enough of the repulsive atmosphere, he pushed the tankard towards the barkeep while fishing out a couple of mora before slamming it against the hard surface.

The barkeep raised a brow at the mug, filled to the brim untouched. "What a waste," he thought, his pupils trailed on that particular individual crashing into other patrons, not until he reached the knob of the entry, but only to slam it vigorously. Not one person wavered at his little act but happily drank more to feeding their drunken state. Outside the Tavern, least people loiter around the city streets. Only the occasional hidden couple is kissing in a dim alleyway as some hasten their journey back to their cozy homes.

Fog swarm the night while the chilly air nipped his skin. In a straight line, rows of oil lamps lit up the murky mist. He begins his stride of pace out of the precinct, and after turning and turning, this section of the city became less active. Only sealed up windows and abandon property lived here. He was passing an unkempt park, with rust and weed growing on the deteriorating swing set. There assigned next to it was where the citizens worship their God. A once tall, beautiful structure is now a decaying building with the statues nation archon, sat in the middle of the courtyard as vines grew on the idol. The wind whistled loudly, fabricating a frightening aura to his personality. Trudging up the cathedral's steps, he swiftly entered the church, in the process of ramming the heavy entree.

Crash.

Shards of a porcelain marble bowl were scattered on the flooring. The heel of his leather shoe crunched against the broken pieces as he stationed himself in front of the altar. Pope Marquis Puissant. A once righteous man was loyal to Fontaine's God, now castaway for betraying the regality and abandonment of faith. A wicked man, they call him. Instead of the common holy word of the Archon, he was preaching of Ursa the Drake. A draconic creature that wasn't a God. That dragon, though it held an intense amount of power, enrapturing his attention. The local faithful became weary of his sudden turn on his faith which his reputation took a turn. Fewer attended the mass and begged the crown to disown him as a Pope. It was a late Sunday morning when the priesthood strips his power as a Vicar. In a rage, he stormed the Palace ground. "You're all nothing but halfwits blinded by power!" pointing at each, and of them, he cursed words of unpleasantries. "You wait, like this poor country excuse of a God, justice will be served."

Ever since then, he took shelter in a deserted church. Where there in the middle of the stone tablet laid a delusion. The Tsaritsa must have pitted the vengeful man, even if he's not part of the fatui. He will gladly serve two Gods. Now on the night of the beloved nation princess, Marquis will commence his revenge scheme, starting on the birthday girl.

"Higher Papa!" a giggle of chortle escape the young girl's lips. The man twirling her oblige, raising her higher in the air to the beat of the ensemble's melody. The puffy maroon gown fitted around her petite body, while the style of her long white hair swayed with every movement. The (e/c) pierced her fathers, carrying mirth of cheekiness. Sitting on the throne mirrored with the same features of the Princess sat a kind queen, with soft eyes smiling at the ridiculous scene of her daughter's ambitions. "Look at my beautiful Granddaughter." grey-haired, tied in a tight bun with a crown, sat snugly on her head. The Grand-mère watched the ballroom flock in high spirit. However, it was the girl that danced with her Father that held all that energy. "Have the Ragnvindr's arrive yet?" she questioned, looking at her daughter. "Not that I'm aware of Mother, but you should stop inquiring for rare alcohol from Master Crepus." "It's not my fault that the family makes splendid wine" The elderly woman hid her smile behind her gloved hand. "Besides, it's the offspring I'm after," they watched (y/n) grinned at her son-in-law, ruffling the girl's hair. "A charming man, with a charming boy. Don't you agree?" The queen let out a sigh at her Mother's antics.

"Grand-mère!" a small cheer escape (y/n). Pulling the layers of cloth, she began to hurry to the pair leaving her Father on the dance floor. Spreading her arms, the elderly accepted her hug and began smothering with small kisses on her round cheeks; her granddaughter laughed. "Look at you, my little lumière. All grown up," she squished her cheeks together, holding tenderness behind her blue eyes. "Now that I'm ten, you're going to teach me how to play poker! Right?" Tiptoeing closer to her, she held the throne seat, giddy of the thought. Her Mother stared at the child and Grandmother in disbelief. Chuckling nervously, she patted her hair. "Maybe wait until you're coming of age." (Y/N) pouted at her answer, leaving her explanation unreasonable. "But I do have a little gift for you instead." Grabbing the tiny Princess's palm, placing a red leather ring box. In a rush, the child swiftly opened the present. A gasp emitted from her. "Oh, Grand-mère! It's beautiful!" (Y/N) cried. A simple golden chain sat in the cushion, with the same colored ore boldly gleaming in the middle. "Together in Fontaine," reading out loud as she deciphers the cursive writing. The two grinned at each other as her Grandmother help put the necklace together around her. "When you wear this, think of an old woman who loves you very, very much." (Y/N) nodded at her words, directing her attention to the lockets words—hugging her once more.

"Your majesty," a rich and velvety tone interrupts the tranquility. "Master Crepus," the aging regal announced. A tall, aristocratic gentleman with charm greeted the family. His attire consisted of a simple charcoal black two-piece suit, and the tie he was sporting matched his fiery red hair. A handsome man he was. "Finally declaring your arrival, it seems." she teased. (Y/N) gape at the lord, intimidated by his scarlet hooded eyes. "Apologies, I was struggling to convince my son to attend the party." Crepus sighed. "Is this the boy you took in? Kaeya was it?" The ensemble's melody began a new tune as she glanced at her associate.

“attentive as ever, your majesty." The older woman smirk at his reply, "when you reached a certain age, you recall every little detail." He let out a deep laugh only after he shakes his head. "Diluc was the one who managed to drag him." "Ah, the little Crepus did it?" "Indeed, he promised that he wouldn't abandon him during the party." Their eyes trailed over to a smaller version of the man, who was currently dragging a bashful blue-haired boy across the room. "That little ball of light does have his ways."

(Y/N) fidget on her spot, feeling increasingly uninterested in the adult's discussions. Aware of her actions, Crepus near the girl and kneeled. "Happy Birthday, your highness." Only to pass his present for her. She lightened up at the gift and hugged it."Thank you, my lord." she smiled at his action while showing a missing tooth in the middle of her teeth. "You must be bored just listening to us old people talk," he spoke. Standing straight, he called to the pair of boys. The bubbly red-haired boy was the first to respond, pulling his brother behind him. The Grand-mère scanned Crepus prized possessions; the boy replenish with enthusiasm did take after his Father. The same color hair, all down to his features. While his adopted brother next to him possessed blue hair and sapphire eyes. Though it was the eyepatch that caught her attention, she raised a brow but didn't question. It was like comparing them to the sun and moon.

"Your highness," The boy greeted as his brother mimic his actions muttering the same sentence. "This is Diluc and Kaeya" Crepus put both of his hands on both children's shoulders. (Y/N) looked at them with awe; she has never come across with blazing hot and cold calm hair. She ponders wanting those colors rather than her dull white hair. "It is an honor to be in your presence," Diluc address. "My, what a sophisticated son you raised." The women applaud. "That's Diluc for you." The group laughs at the small tease. The bold child reached the girl and stared. Uneasy, she dug her hands into the gown, afraid to look at Diluc. "You have pretty eyes," he said, still gazing. (Y/N) blushed at his compliment. "I like you and your brother's hair!" she returned—Kaeya observes behind his adoptive Father's legs, envious of his brother's daring personality. As the two new friends converse, he felt the older man nudge him towards the pair. "Don't be shy now, Kaeya."

As Kaeya approach the Princess and his brother, the girl let out a gasp. "Your eyes have stars!" she inspected closer, now flusters with her bold move. She kept rambling on waves of compliments towards Kaeya. Diluc giggled at the discomposed Kaeya and band in with more teasing. The child lifts his dark hands in defense, trying to calm them. Maybe it was better to stay back at the lodge.

"What's under your eyepatch?"

Kaeya stiffens at her direct question. All of a sudden, the air thickens, and the ambiance of unsettlement quickly replaces the mood. "(Y/N)," her grandmother warns. At once, she felt guilty at her grandmother's tone and the dismal Kaeya. "It's nothing," he whispers. The reflection of his face that the marble flooring held became more interesting. "I'm sorry." tears gathered at the corner of her eyes. She feverishly struggles to hold back the tears, surprising the two boys. "Ah, Princess, don't cry," Diluc reassures, hastily stop her tears with his tie. "But I made him sad! What PrincessPrincess does that to her people!!" Shutting her vision, and her gloves gripped tightly, feeling the harsh material. Diluc looked at both disheartened children; at that moment, he suddenly felt restless. "It's alright, Kaeya doesn't mind that question, right?" looking at his brother for support, he nodded at his words. Then softly smiling at her.

"Don't worry," he whispered.

The girl gape at him then mirrored his smile. Childish laughter once again replaces their sadness. "Princess, even though we live in another nation, the Ragnvindr's will always aid you," Crepus informed. "Yes! Kaeya and I will be your royal knights when you visit Mondstadt." Diluc hooked his arm under Kaeya while puffing his chest proudly. (Y/N) clapped her hands at his proclamation, "But Diluc were not knights yet." his older brother stiffen. "Maybe wait in five years."

The night crowd with freedom. Not one complained or did the fun died down. The triplex of kids, hanging around each other, and befit on being close friends. This night was the most fun the little Princess had as she watches Diluc tease Kaeya again. However, the night holds infinite uncertainty.

An instant gasp and the shatter of a wine glass caused a halt in the ballroom. The music ceased as a gust of wind expelled the chandelier candles. The cloaked man sauntered his way past the frightened crowd, clapping his hand in slow motion. He let out a deep laugh, approaching the family that strips away his power. "How dare you return to the palace!" The king spoke brashly, pushing his daughter behind. (Y/N) shook in fear, watching the mad man plastered a demented smile at her. "But I'm your confidant," he exclaimed. "Confidant? Ha! You are a traitor to Fontaine!" "Get out!"

"You think you can banish me? Pope Marquis Puissant!" he steps closer to him, hiding his delusion in his cloak. As (Y/n) was watching, she felt a slight tug pulling away from them. Diluc stood in front of her, furrowing his small brow. "By the holy power given by the Tsaritsa and Ursa, I'll banish you and your family with a curse!" The chamber gasp at his comment. "Mark my word I will not rest until I see the end of the Rousseau!" Bring out his power; he directed his attack toward the king. A shriek was let out from the queen as he shut his eye tightly, anticipating the attack.

"(Y/N)!"

The Grand-mère cried, flinging herself out of her throne. All eyes direct their attention towards Diluc; he didn't feel the girl's hand. Turning around, she was gone. "What did you do to my daughter!" Her Father roared. Marquis laughed and grinned, not saying a word. "Guards, get him!" he ordered to the once holy man. Laughing again, more mist gathered quickly in the ballroom; as the guard's closed onto him, fire circled his figure, preventing them from entering. The blaze grew quicker; Crepus felt Kaeya stiffen in his arm, watching the delusion in Marquis's hand. The windows exploded in one motion, making the room more in a frenzy while the wind blew harsher. Diluc, in rage, ran towards him. "Diluc, no!" Crepus warned, however, as he passed the flames and mist, he was gone.

The only ashes and embers replace his spot. Marquis was far gone, along with the Princess. "Quickly close all the borders! I don't want anyone leaving Fontaine!" The distraught Father ordered. " I want every house to be searched, every church, alleyway and caves checked!" "Whatever you do, find the Princess and Marquis!". Tears of despair escape the Mother and Grandmother crying for the kidnapped daughter. Diluc silently stood there watching the embers die down.

The once festive night took a turn into a nightmare.

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wizkiddx · 3 years

Text

worst case scenario part 5

finally!! so sorry its been an age to anyone still here but lives been interesting atm so.... also this really feels a bit rambley and the ending is deff underdeveloped but I just kind of wanted this done tbh x

[previous part] [part 1]

warnings: hospitals - ICU, ventilation that sort of stuff, just a lot of ANGST post a difficult birth - please don't read if this could be upsetting for you, and my inbox is always open if u wanna chat :)

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In a complete 360 degree flip from earlier that day, after leaving the hospital Tom had become obsessively attached to Aurora. They’d got back to his parents place in Tom’s car; Aurora in the carseat Y/n and Tom had ready in their car door for her arrival. Clearly his parents had already pre-warned his brothers, who had thankfully already gone over to Tom and Y/n’s - collecting the Moses basket amongst other items Harry had been listed off from his mother.

Apart from explaining a little behind her name to his parents on the journey back, Tom had spoken very little, choosing to keep himself to himself - physically stationing himself beside the Moses basket the whole time. Of course, there had been a bit of light conversation and almost procedural passing round of Aurora between all her uncles and grandparents, which Tom had kept a wether eye on - but ultimately not engaged.

He also knew that physically his body was failing him. Although eating a little of the lasagne Sam had made for everyone, he could only stomach a minuscule amount, which did little to boost his energy levels. It felt as though sleeping was the enemy, because he was neither ready to leap into the car if the phone went; or to hear the smallest sound from the wicker basket, suggesting something was wrong. So as much as he tried to fight it, before even nine o’clock he began to dose off on the familiar couch of his parents sitting room - occasionally jerking himself awake before loosing the fight once again.

Nikki had tried to gently push him to take a break in the spare bedroom, which had been Tom’s before he’d moved out, but was unsuccessful - every time he retaliated with a stern shake of his head, while checking his phone just in case he’d missed a notification. Eventually Nikki relented, later in the evening both her and Dom retiring to bed; once Sam had agreed to stick around downstairs till a bit later - as a chef he worked till late in the nights, so even on his days off like today, his sleep schedule was just a little fucked.

Left alone with his new little niece and now pretty firmly asleep brother, Sam draped a blanket over the latter just in time for Aurora to start fussing in the need of a bottle. His mum had explained how to do everything, how to mix the formula and heat it up, so after scooping up the little wriggling girl in the hope his brother wouldn’t get disturbed, Sam dealt with her. To be honest no matter how clueless and useless he felt, Aurora was just so cute - if a little wrinkly and alien looking, but in a good way. This was the first baby any of them had had, so the first time Sam experienced this instant connection and love for the little being that was his niece or nephew. It was terrifying, lifting the bottle against her lips for the first time, but then it just sort of seemed to work. She was incredibly smart for less than 24 hours old, instantly latching on, like she had done for Haz at the hospital.

That gave Sam a little confidence in his ability as an uncle, giving himself a satisfied nod while swaying from the kitchen to move back into the living room. It was just a preference to be within reach of Tom… just in case. His poor brother still hadn’t moved, slumped against the corner of the sofa, leaning toward the now empty Moses basket. Normally, Sam seeing his supposed heart throb of a brother looking as rough as he did now - double chin, mouth hanging slightly open, deep sunken eyes - he would’ve taken a photo to blackmail him with. Now though, it was just desperately sad, seeing his brother like this, hand still clutching his phone tightly above the blanket.

Rather hoping the calm would last for a while, Sam successfully finished off feeding Aurora; winded and then put her down to sleep again just in time. Because, perhaps expectedly, Tom’s phone began to blare off the default iPhone ringtone making Tom jump and throw the device across the room as he awoke with a start. Sam ran to grab it off the floor, mainly with the hope of turning it off before Aurora was awoken too - knowing that it was best tonight to tackle one thing at a time.

And so he immediately swiped to answer the call, not even registering who the call was from, much rather just wanting the noise to stop.

“Hello?”

“Sam? It’s Harrison” Tom had jumped up from his seat hovering beside Sam with petrified look. It took barely seconds for Tom to snatch the phone back, launching questions down the receiver.

“Slow down would you? Y/n is fine I was just phoning to check in.”

“Oh er yeh… um sorry I just… just thought…”

“It’s the other way mate. Nurse says she’s starting to get there cos first she moved her arm a bit when we pinched her shoulder and then I just called because she started to like gag and now the ventilator thing is gone.”

“W-what?”

“I think she’s breathing by herself? Like she’s got an oxygen mask instead of the tubes down her throat.” Clearly Harrison was not, by any means, a medical expert.

“They said she would have the ventilator for a few days at least.”

“I guess Y/n got bored? To be fair she couldn’t ever sit still.”

“I’m coming to you.”

“Tom it’s nearly midnight, I was supposed to be kicked out at 10. Just come back in the morning, they won’t let you in I’m pretty certain.”

“What if she wakes up!”

“Then they’ll call you! She’s getting better Tom you should be try and relax for like a second.”

“FUCK OFF HAZ! If she wakes up all alone and terrified then-“

“I’m not going to having a screaming match on the phone with you. I think we both know you wanting to come is more for you than for Y/n, because Y/n would want you to be looking after Aurora.”

Again guilt tripping using the newborn. Harsh but effective. Stopping Tom’s anger dead in it’s tracks.

“Look I can put the nurse on for her to tell you they won’t let you in and they’ll call if anything happens - but you already know that.”

“Yeh sorry fine … I know don’t bother.”

“Okay… I’m was gonna head back to my place and I know you’ve probably got your mum begging to fuss over Aurora but if-“

“Can you come?”

“Didn’t need to ask mate.”

And that’s how the night went. Until Harrison arrived at the Holland family home, Tom had spent the time pacing back and forth, blatantly ignoring the pleas of Sam just to sit down. Once he arrived though, going through all the updates in a lot more detail Tom seemed, for the first time, optimistic. By no means could you call him relaxed or happy - but compared to the rollercoaster that had been the last 24 hours, Harrison thought that was more than enough. Aurora had started fussing again at 1 but by the time it had turned into a full blown scream at Tom, Sam already had the bottle ready. It took a little bit of encouragement and promise that Tom would be able to feed her but actually, she instantly latched on, settled in her Dad’s hold while guzzling down the contents of the bottle.

After a bit of winding she ended up falling asleep on her dads chest, only when he felt himself start to flag did Tom place her back in the basket. Harrison and him ended up crashing on the sofas, Sam retiring to his own room. Phone still tightly clutched in Tom’s grip.

////////////////////

The first thing Y/n became properly aware of was this intense heaviness all over her body. It felt as though her limbs were all composed completely of lead, meaning as much as she was just craving rolling over, it was as though her own body was holding her down. A very alien feeling that unsettled her slightly, trying to shake of the misty feeling in her head to work it all out. It took a while to drag herself out of the depths of sleep, to the point where background noise slowly faded in - an alien beeping as well as distant shuffling making her heart thump with unease. Finally, perhaps most distressingly , her eyes felt glued shut. Not because they were heavy, in the way someone extremely sleep deprived cant keep their eyes open; rather stiff like they hadn’t been used in so long they’d rusted over or something.

The feeling was quite horrific and isolating- as though she were locked into her body without an escape in sight. Whilst trying to calm her racing thoughts, Y/n chose to focus completely on the one thing she could do. She could listen. She listened to the beeps, focusing on the type of sound, the way it chimed so regularly; and it’s form. It was familiar, for that she was sure but for now at least she couldn’t place it.

It felt like an investigation, trying with all her might to try and workout what the fuck was going on. To put it mildly.

The most useful clue though, a breakthrough if you will, is when a voice sounded - clear and familiar.

“Excuse me nurse?” It was Nikki. For sure. It was a clue, but didnt seem to make a hell of a lot of sense. Y/n was so focused on why the hell Nikki was apparently watching her sleep unconscious, she completely missed the reference to the nurse. As in hospital. As in Y/n was in hospital. “… I’m just going to swap out for my sons friend.”

“Harrison?” That voice seemed new and unfamiliar.

“Yes, he won’t be a second I’m sure.”

What was Harrison doing here too?

It was all very confusing and hurt Y/n’s brain to try and unpick. Gradually then, everything sort of melted away, diving back into the darkness.

The next time Y/n woke up things were different. This time she woke up like she would at any time of day. She woke up and her eyes followed suit. Not particularly easily, since as soon as they cracked open she was almost blinded by brilliant white lights, it taking a build up of willpower before she tried it again - bracing for the pain.

By now she knew something was wrong. She remembered all these patchy and hazy periods. All full of confusion and disorientation but with different voices keeping her at least semi calm. Familiar voices, all too often laced with such emotion. Especially Tom’s. She couldn’t remember what he had said, nor had she probably been able to understand it at the time - what stuck was the tone. The sadness, the hopelessness , the emptiness.

It was scary. But it made her want to help. Made her want to open her eyes.

After wincing at the dazzling white surroundings, Y/n blinked her eyes quickly, in an attempt to get them to adjust quicker. She saw an unfamiliar ceiling, one that was tiled in a similar way to her old school canteen. There was a weird pressure round her mouth, eyes quickly darting down to see edges of a clear mask pressed up against the bridge of her nose. That wasn’t it though, the further she looked the more her eyes panned down this pale blue blanket, following the outline of her legs to the bottom raised edge of the bed. The hospital bed.

Her hospital bed.

As much as she wanted to jump up in panic; physically right now that was an impossibility. So instead, Y/n focused on trying to gleam as much information from the situation. It took a hell of a lot of effort, her muscles literally stiff and ridgid with disuse but with a small groan her neck eventually agreed to follow orders. Just a small tilt to the left and suddenly Y/n felt so much more less panicked. Everything was that bit less scary because there was Tom.

Admittedly he didn’t look amazing, or even not bad. Tom was sat with his back pressed against the side of chair, so his body faced her. Had he not looked so ruined, Y/n would’ve laughed at the side of his face squashed into the back of the seat. But he did look horrific, for lack of a better word. His brown eyes were locked shut, but also looked puffy and red, while dark at the same time - as though he’d been attempting to gouge his own eyes out prior. He looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks, hence why he had appeared to have collapsed in the arm chair. At least though , he wasn’t in a hospital bed himself.

That was Y/n’s pleasure.

Her next job was to get her neck muscles to pull her head to the other side. It was a slow wincing gesture, yet she was so aware of another presence that needed to be addressed too. But actually it was 3 people.

Right at the back, a nurse sat on a little spinny chair, scribbling something down in a file of papers but to be quite honest that wasn’t were Y/n’s focus zeroed in on. Instead on Harrison who was sat in chair mirroring Tom, except instead of being passed out asleep he was cradling a baby. Her baby.

Y/n literally felt her heart in her throat at that point, eye widening almost comically. That was her baby - it must be? The monitors all started to loose their regularity as Y/n threw an uncoordinated limb to that side of the bed- already having realised her throat was way too scratchy to try to say anything comprehensible.

Immediately that got the attention of both the nurse, who immediately leapt up and called for support, as well as Harrison - who looked like he was seeing a ghost.

“Oh my-Y/n-?” Luckily he kept the baby safe in his arms rather than dropping her in shock, whilst Y/n kept her eyes locked onto the bundle in his arms. Nodding down, she tried to remove the mask (actually just very slightly knocking it to one side) and attempted to ask of the baby. Her throat, being inhumanly dry and scratchy, didn’t really work but Haz still got the message, scoffing in amazement.

“Aurora… here’s your mummy.” Harrisons voice was quiet and wavering as he delicately held Aurora against Y/n’s collar bone, the babies little tuft of har tickingling her chin. Now Y/n was crying with happiness, looking up at Haz’s icy blue eyes and questioning her name. Harrison confirmed with another disbelieving whisper, whilst the arm that wasn’t still holding Aurora clasped Y/n’s hand with a death grip. “Tom’s choice.”

The mention of him had both of them shift their gaze across the room to Tom’s chair. Even with all the developments, Tom still seemed completely unaware, fast asleep with the side of his face squished against the back of the chair making his lips slightly askew. Y/n were acutely aware of the small congregation of doctors that had accumulated in the corner of the bay but they seemed to be respectfully waiting before they would prod and poke. Haz went to call Tom’s name, before he could though, Y/n squeezed his arm and minutely shook her head. That wasn’t what the blue eyes boy had been expecting, causing Haz to unfold and bring Aurora back up to his chest as he quirked his eyebrows at her.

She didnt need to be filled in on the situation to know exactly what was happening. She had no idea why she was in the hospital bed; how long it had been since she’d given birth - but she knew all she needed to. From Harrisons unbelievably shocked face; and from the state of Tom - it hadn’t been good. Her fiancé looked almost ghostly, it seemed evident that he needed her. First then, she gestured to Haz for some water, which after a panicked look to the nurse; then from the nurse to various doctors; she was eventually given permission.

After somewhat alleviating the sandpaper feeling in her throat, Y/n then croakily asked for a bit of privacy. Right now the doctors all were gawking, Harrison assumed it to be because they’d all led him and Tom to believe she wouldn’t wake up for a while- and even then she was supposed to barely be awake, not able to talk and drink or anything of the sort. With an ecstatic nod Harrison, shuffled out - while doing so prompting the medical people to draw the curtains completely shut round the bay.

Already Y/n had tears welling up in her eyes, purely because she hated seeing him like this. He just looked so broken and shattered which honestly felt worlds worse than the labour she’d gone through. Her whole body still hurt, stiff and achy for reasons yet to be explained to Y/n. None of that mattered though, as she strained her arm out to the side in order to gently reach his knee that was folded up and sticking out awkwardly at an angle. After swallowing one again, Y/n squeezed round the joint and tried to shake it slightly. Instantly the man jumped up in his seat, heavy eyes blinking quickly and repeatedly as he tried to adjust to the room.

Being so sleep deprived and stressed out, Tom’s brain was not working normally, instead with a delayed haze as he apparently skipped over Y/n in the bed, rather surveying the the closed curtains and Harrison’s now empty chair. As he was lifting himself to sit more normally up, uncurling from the armchair, was when he noticed the hand on his knee. Breath caught in his chest, Tom instinctively bit his lip as his eyes gradually traced up the hand, to the forearm, up to the shoulder. It felt like a fever dream, as though all it would take is for him to move and she’d slip away again. But there were her green eyes, gleaming in a way that literally lifted a weight from his shoulders. Her smile was tired and a little confused, but so her - after spending days of just seeing all her features lax, Tom swore that it was the most beautiful thing in the world.

Only when Y/n finally croaked out a small ‘hi’ did Tom gain awareness of his body, or rather control of it, enough to leap up and leave over the bed - cradling her face in both his palms. Like a psycho he stared intently, swapping his focus from her left to her right eye like a madman.

“Your-I-I” He was trying to speak, trying to communicate all the thoughts and regrets of things he wished he’d said to her all at once. Weakly she reached up to fully remove the oxygen mask, dragging It down to below her chin, before squeezing his wrists in comfort. Only then did Tom notice the small puddle that had collected on her cheek, which made him realise he was absolutely bawling.

“You ‘kay?” Her voice was like sandpaper but everything about her was so completely Y/n and it was just giving Tom this unreal wave of euphoria. Physically incapable of replying, the brunette just scoffed, leaning over the bed even more so he could press his forehead on hers. He was laughing too, the fact she was asking him that seemed so preposterous, given all the tubes and wires attached to her at the moment. It took Y/n squeezing his wrist harder again to make him lean back a little, searching her eyes with his. She seemed so worried; seemed so full of concern - only then did Tom consider quite how much he’d ‘let himself go’ the past couple of days.

It had been two days since Aurora was born, only 48 hours. But the transformation was mad, none more so than mentally. 48 hours had quite literally changed everything for Tom; changed life forever and himself too. It was showing in his unshaven face, with unwashed greasy hair, everything just looking ‘tired’.

“‘m just really glad your awake.” It was so honest and sincere it did have Y/n wondering what had happened and for how long. What had she put her fiancé through?

“How long?”

“The worst two and a half days of my life… I got you now though, yeh?” Tom whispered wetly, while stroking the side of her cheek - wiping both his and her tears away.

“Always.”

The doctors and nurses then came in, podding and poking Y/n like no tomorrow while Harrison and Tom stood back a little - excitedly grinning at each other and the sleepy girl Haz was cradling, before Tom stole her off him. There was a momentary sick-to-his-stomach feeling after some of the professionals had cleared, seeing her eyes shut again felt like everything was crashing around him. Thankfully though, one of doctors noticed the look of despair on his face, explaining to the two men that she was just asleep normally. That although sh’ed spent along time unconscious, waking from a medical coma is in itself exhausting.

After the initial excitement of Y/n waking the next couple of days were pretty samey. She’d been moved down to a normal ward, no longer needed all the incessant bleeping machines but still had to stay in hospital. Tom found it tricky too, he just always felt he needed to be by her side ‘just in case’. In fact, it had been a source of a bit of tension between him and his fiancé - she could see how exhausted he was from looking after Aurora, plus the stress of being in the hospital for hours a day with her. As Y/n got better and more switched on to the state of him, she realised it was inevitable he’d crash at some point.

But after a week and a half in hospital - comprising of a baby, emergency surgery, 3 days on intensive care, followed by 8 on the ward - Y/n was discharged. Nikki and Dom moved in to Y/n and Tom’s place, to provide care support both for Aurora; and Y/n for the rest of her recovery; and secretly Tom for everything he’d been through.

She was still order on bed rest due to her surgical scars, so Tom and Nikki helped to set her up in the master bedroom as soon as they got in. Of course, everyone was aware of Toms odd mood that day. Until then the only thing he wanted was to get his fiancé back at home with him but now she was over the threshold his excitement and joy appeared to have been zapped out of him. In fact, he’d barely uttered more than a couple sentences. So once Y/n was properly comfortable and Dom had brought Aurora and the cot into the room, Tom’s parents quickly made themselves scarce.

Tom hadn’t stopped, finding some reason to rummage around in the chest of drawers m while Y/n chewed at her bottom lip, watching him.

“Tom?” All she got in response was a light hum. “Tom please will you come and sit down for a minute?”

“I just need to-“

“Tom!” Her exclamation finally properly got Tom to listen, jumping round to face her. “Please... please will you just stop for a second?” Y/n’s eyes felt as though they were boring holes in his skull. Really, Tom knew he’d be forced into this at some point because he couldn’t avoid Y/n. She had some power of mind reading over him. So with a defeated nod and sagging shoulders Tom rounded the bed, weaving between his side and Auroras cot - where she was sleeping soundly.

A silence overcame the room as he heavily planted himself on his side of the bed, mirroring Y/n’s posture leant against the headboard.

“I think we need to have an honest conversation T.”

“If you want.” Nothing about his reply was the picture of enthusiasm, causing Y/n to hesitate a little.

“Look I am so beyond grateful for everything you’ve done while I was in hospital... and it doesn’t take a genius to tell you’ve worked yourself half to death-“

“I’m fine-“

“Don’t lie to me. I know you’re trying to protect me but please... will you just talk to me? Honestly?”

His reply this time wasn’t completely unforeseeable but it still shocked Y/n quite how quickly it happened, especially almost unprovoked. Because that’s all it took for Tom to break, for the past 2 weeks to get their vengance, for all the repressed emotion to escape.

He was crying- well more accurately sobbing- into his hands, his back quaking. Naturally Y/n reached out to pull him into her side, suppressing the groan of pain as she moved a little too much for her abdomen to handle. “I’m here T. I got you and I’m not going anywhere m‘kay?”

And that’s how they stayed, for at least 10 minutes, with Tom crying into her shoulder as Y/n rubbed up and down his back. Eventually though, everything did calm down and Tom repositioned himself to lean his head on her shoulder just facing forward and focusing on playing with her fingers, lacing them fingers with his.

In all the time since she’d woken up, Y/n was yet to broach the subject of their babies name yet. She sensed it was a sensitive topic to say the least, so had thought it best to wait till they were properly alone - not in a ward of 6 strangers where the only privacy came in flimsy blue curtains.

“So…. Aurora huh? Thought it was too airy-fairy, head-in-the-clouds for you?” Smiling lightly, both of them were transported back to the pregnancy when they spent hours and hours bickering over names. Aurora had always been Y/n’s favourite but to Tom thought it was more a name for a hippy kid who went around clad in tie dye and bandanas.

“Still is a bit...but I needed a bit of a miracle and Iceland was in my head. Plus I sort of accidentally word vomited while shouting at Haz, for being nice to me.” Iceland as in when Tom had proposed under the aurora borealis in the freezing sky - when Y/n had agreed, promised even, to be with him forever.

“But you like it?”

“Of course... mother always knows best after all.”

“I think it suits her too. One of your best choices to date, listening to me.” Y/n mused, earning herself a very delicate but still playful elbow in the side before the room drifted back to a much more comfortable silence.

“We’re gonna get through this you know? Me, you and her, we’re together in this... I’m sorry I wasn’t in the beginning and I’m sorry I hurt you but now? I promise you got me and I’m not going anywhere…” Y/n needed to say it and needed Tom to properly listen. “ ...literally, I still cant walk properly.” Tom chuckled wetly at that, which made Y/n feel a lot better too.

To be completely honest, Tom was still hurt and he knew it’d take some mending to move past everything. By no means did he blame Y/n in anyway but just the fact he was left alone and abandoned - well, it was the worst time in his life. The way Y/n understood that and had apologised to him - if completely unnecessarily- meant everything. Meant she would help him to heal... whilst he helped her too.

“Can we just go to sleep? I need to wake up beside you in our bed not at tiny hospital one.” It was only 3 in the afternoon but because of Y/n’s medicine she was constantly drowsy and Tom? Tom was still in this permanent state of exhaustion. So it wasn’t so much of a weird request as it was on the face of it. With a nod, Y/n shuffled down on the bed a bit more resting her head against the top of Tom’s. It was exactly what they both needed, just a bit of peace with each other.

That lasted all of 5 minutes before Aurora woke and started to scream.

Life had most definitely changed. Especially for Tom. Because even though he was he was mentally and physically exhausted, he only appreciated his daughters screams whole heartedly... because Y/n was there groaning with a tired smile too. They were in this together.

~~~~

I really hope the ending didnt disappoint too much, im aware its rushed as hell, but thank you for getting this far! And I hope maybe this series has done a teeny tiny bit to normalise not everything in pregnancy and child birth being perfect - that there is morbidity and mortality associated. Obviously this is all fictional (esp the amazingly quick recovery and lack of neurological/other impairments) and not medically accurate in the slightest !!

my inbox is always open :) t x

Tagging : @whitewolf51

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #dad!tom #Tom Holland angst

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your-wings-of-freedom · 4 years

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Nightmares (Levi x Reader)

Authors Note: Here we go sweetness. I’m awfully sorry it took so long! I had actually planned to do a Levi x Nightmare fic so when it became my first request, you bet I fangirled harder than ever before! I hope you don’t mind that I added my small original idea to yours. If you don’t like, I can always write up a slightly different scenario ^^” First Levi x Reader fic. Yikes.

Word Count: 5,542 (Sorry!)

Summary: You scream out into the middle of the night from a nightmare, nearly waking the whole squad. As your captain and being someone he cares about, he does his best to calm you down.

You watched as Levi swung gracefully through the air despite being covered in titan blood, only for the wires of his ODM gear to be yanked by greedy hands, rendering helpless. You were too far to reach him. Your ziplined through the trees, screaming for his name. No matter how fast you flew, you weren’t fast enough. Multiple sets of hands fought over Levi, tear him limb from limb. His cries were mixed with yours as you screamed for him. Having reached him just as his eyes made contact with yours before the rest of his body became titan food. “NOOO! LEVI!” Your blood curdling scream echoed throughout the forest, and the chill of the room where your nightmare took place. Everyone, particularly in the Survey Corps have seen horrors to the extreme, and because of that, each cadet suffers with nightmares where it has them screaming out into the night. There’s no judgement or annoyance from those who share a room. It’s probably best that they did since it allows them to have someone there to comfort them. Despite taking up quarters in a building that had more than enough rooms to spare, some cadets still preferred to bunk with each other. You preferred to have a room to yourself if it was available. A lot of it had to do with the fact that you and Levi had grown closer and late-night visits became a thing. Particularly after a brutal mission that, not only left you a complete mess, but would have some sort of impact on Levi where his usual coping method of secluding himself to his room didn’t work.

Your room was never too far from where his office is. The man barely slept and would often spend the majority of his night catching up on paperwork, or making himself a cup of tea. Any small amount of sleep he did get, it was mostly just him nodding off in his chair, having not realized that sleep had overcome him.

Despite how late it was, it was still early in the night for Levi. His night went as per normal. Always staying up until the last member of his squad retired for the night. He may look like a ruthless asshole to nearly everybody else, but he’s not so bad once you get to know him. He’s strict, and firm, with certain things. But he’ll always join his comrades for meals, he’ll always sit and have a cup of tea with them, talk to them. He’s really not that bad.

He made another cup of tea and took it up to his office where a small pile of paperwork was waiting for him. Tch. He wasn’t a huge fan of paperwork. Particularly the reports that had to be completed from unsuccessful commissions; the field report that required details of what happened, what went wrong. There was the death reports of all the soldiers that had died and Levi had to sign off on it before sending letters to the families. He’d much prefer Erwin do this part of the job since he’s the Commander, but Levi doesn’t quite trust the man to do it with the weight of the burden he ought to rightfully carry. For Levi, he felt it’s the least he could do for those who gave their lives to save humanity.

Luckily tonight wasn’t one of those nights where it was a haunting and grim reminder of what would have occurred only hours before. Rather, the paperwork was dull and boring. Of course, he’d much rather that than the alternative.

Cup and saucer gently placed on his desk, he sat down and glared at the pile of paperwork before deciding to procrastinate just a little bit more by taking his first sip of his tea, choosing to relish in the liquid for just another moment longer. An hour or so went by and he had finally signed off on the last piece of paper. How the hell he got through reading Hanji’s report without the need to stab himself in the eyes with his pen is beyond him. Slamming the piece of paper down on the top of the small pile of papers, he stood up from his chair and pulled the pile to him, tapping them into a neat pile before placing them in a manila file, ready to be sent back to Erwin in the morning.

It’s probably past midnight by now… the moon shone brightly, helping to illuminate the dimly lit room further. The night sky littered with stars … and not a cloud in sight, Levi’s come to notice as his footsteps took him to stand by the window and gaze out. It was a summer’s evening but there seemed to be a slight breeze in the air as the silhouette of the tree leaves could be seen swaying slightly.

This small moment of peace was interrupted by the sound of his name being screamed in a terrifying manner not far from his office. His head sharply whipped around, bangs to sway harshly with his sudden movement.

Quick strides had him yanking his door open to already seeing a few members of his squad wearily stepping out of their rooms and into the hall as they made their way in the same direction that Levi was heading. He heard his name being called in half greeting, half question but he didn’t have time to tell them that he’s got in under control, not when you’re still screaming at the top of your lungs for him.

As soon as he opened the door, he saw your body writhing beneath the blankets and he didn’t waste a second by stepping into your room and immediately sitting on the edge of the bed. He didn’t miss your features being contorted into a face full of pure terror and pain. He didn’t want to know what the hell was playing out in your head, whatever it was, it must be worse than their own reality. Because even amongst the horrors and deaths they’ve faced, he’s never seen you look so scared before.

It reminds him of the moment he lost Isabel and Furlan… but this seems far worse. Hands were placed on your shoulders and his voice sharp with authority tried to be heard over your screams, “Y/N! Wake up! Y/N! C’mon, I need you to wake up…” You weren’t known to be a heavy sleeper. At least, not this heavy. It took a while for Levi to wake you up, even him raising his voice to be heard over your relentless screams. Not that it was a competition, but you definitely won ‘Nightmare of the Year’, even Levi hasn’t seen a reaction this intense, not from him, and as far as he knows, not from the rest of the members of his squad either. You heard Levi call out to you, which was impossible because you just saw the last of him disappear into the titan’s mouth. Your traumatized mind must be playing such cruel tricks on your mind. All you could do was watch the titan finish devouring the man you’ve come to care about, the man you’ve come to…well… love. You can hear his voice calling your name again, as the titan’s bloodstained grin stared at you, taunting you in a way. You felt your face contort into something terrifying as you screamed with the heartache of losing the one you loved. That scream carried over when you woke up, not realizing it was you who was screaming into the dark room. It only turned into a scream of panic as you felt a pair of hands gripping your shoulders, and that’s when you fought against the constriction of the sheets that held your body day, panicking like a tortured animal. Your mind hadn’t quite caught up to reality just yet. The scream died from your lips and panicked, frightened whimpers filled the room instead. To be honest, Levi hadn’t expected such a violent reaction upon waking you up. His hands were knocked from your shoulders in your sudden state of panic as you desperately tried to crawl away from him but the writhing in your sleep had caused you to become too tangled up in your sheets. “Hey. Hey! Take it easy. Just a nightmare.” His voice deep and firm, hoping to ground you back to reality at least. His hand hovered in midair as though he was trying to calm down a frightened animal. Finally you were brought back down to reality and you stopped moving, frightened gaze settled on the face you just saw being eaten. You tried to swallow down the whimper that was caught in your throat but failed to do so and you could only close your eyes momentarily in embarrassment. Though you immediately regret doing so, because the moment you did, you were flooded with the same scenes again and your eyes flung open as another state of panic gripped you. “N-No. No. No. I can’t… I can’t get out… I can’t…” your breathing coming out in shaky breaths, the panic had risen to borderlining a panic attack as your chest tightened in fear and your lungs refusing to work properly. Your hands clawed at the sheets, trying to get yourself free from the grips that reminded you too much of seeing Levi gripped in a Titan’s hold. Levi sprung into action as he moved off the bed, gripping the sheets and tugged them back and forth to loosen their bind on you. Once there was an opportunity, you immediately sprung free and made a beeline for the other side of your room. You could finally breathe.

You inhaled deeply but another whimper-like gasp (something that sounds like a ‘nngh’ from the back of your throat) sounded as you took a deep breath. Your hands rested on your thighs as you hunched over, catching your breath.

Levi watched you spring out of bed and try to compose yourself. He understood how nightmares worked. On the odd occasion that he had them, some had left him springing up from his chair. So he understood this moment was pivotal in the need to have some space. He watched as you crouched down with a long, but still shaky, exhale, muttering a ‘shit’ as you braced yourself with your elbows on your thighs, fingers clasping together, thumbs crisscrossing too, and forehead pressing against the base of your thumb where it curves into the palm. It took everything in him not to walk over to you and physically help you through it. He couldn’t even place a hand on your shoulder. Not with everyone ogling at the door. It was probably already suspicious enough that he was the one in this room with you – but, he’s your Captain and the way you had screamed out into the night was not something that he could ignore. It’s no different to when he and Eren stole a couple of moments of privacy to talk one-on-one, right? Grey eyes snapped back to the few members of his squad that had gathered at the door in concern for their terror-stricken comrade. “Alright, show’s over. Back to bed.” The order was given before grey eyes snapped to Eren and bore into his green eyes that widened as soon as Levi barked his name, “Eren go downstairs and make some tea. Don’t fuck it up.” “Sir!”

He waited for everyone to disperse before he took a few steps over to where you were. “Must’ve been a fucked-up nightmare.” You heard his footsteps stop a little bit before you, but you didn’t lift your head. Not just yet. You needed to calm your nerves down, because right now, it felt like it was more than just your heart beating wildly. It felt like every part of your body was throbbing. Including your eardrum, which you’re surprised you could even Levi’s voice over the sound of whatever the pressuring sound in your ears was. “Yeah.” “Want to talk about it?” “No.”

Levi hummed lowly as he closed the rest of the gap between you both, you still didn’t lift your head. He could hear you taking long, careful, steady breaths, immediately recognizing it as a grounding technique. He remained quiet, not wanting to interrupt whatever progress you made with yourself, so he opted to quietly place a hand on your back in a form of some physical reassurance. That’s when he noticed how damp your pyjama’s were. Tch. Eyes snapped over to the mess of your bed in the dim light of the room and he knew immediately what he had to do; change the sheets. It might seem trivial, but even if he didn’t realise it himself, it was far more beneficial to do so in a situation like this. Imagine waking from a nightmare, and then reentering the same messy, sweat-soaked bed again? It’s practically an invitation for another nightmare. While Levi’s reasons lied with the fact it was disgusting to be sleeping on sweat-soaked sheets, the other benefits was a fresh set of sheets, freshly made bed, which should help equal a fresh reset of the mind for the remainder of the night.

“I’ll be back.” Levi murmured as he stood up and fingers trailed off your back. You immediately missed the warmth of his reassuring touch; you missed the calm demeanor he held despite not being the type of guy to mollycoddle you in moments of likes these. You almost whined when he left… no, not whined, begged. You almost begged him to not leave you alone. Luckily that pathetic noise caught in your throat before it could make itself known. You already looked pathetic enough, you didn’t need to sound pathetic on top of it. It’s just adding salt to the wounds. You heard Levi enter back in your room just as quickly as he left it. You heard him place something down; it sounded soft but firm, but you couldn’t make out what it could be. And then you heard the distinct sound of sheets being yanked off the bed. What on earth…?

When you felt like you could lift your head from the heaviness of the fog that shrouded your mind, your eyes opened to Levi changing the sheets on your bed. “Uh, Levi? Y-you don’t have to…” He didn’t even turn around, not even when you stammered slightly. “Tch. Just change into some new nightwear.” You bit your lip, contemplating whether or not there’s any actual need for you to change your nightwear. They’ll dry. It’s not like your drenched in sweat. Suppose to Levi’s cleaning standards, you probably already are. Hearing no movement from you behind him, he added “I won’t look, brat. Just get changed into something clean.” and there was the confirmation that this came down to Levi’s strict hygiene. It could have been worse. He could have ordered you to take a shower or bath as well. You stood up, shakily so to the point where you stumbled a little on your footing before you began to walk over to your drawers and retrieved a new set of nightwear out. You entire being trembled. You weren’t physically shaking on the outside, but you were definitely shaking on the inside. If that made sense? Your hands were the only thing that physically trembled as you changed as quick as you could while Levi had his backed turned. You didn’t even think about your bedroom door being left open and other members (or eren with the tea) could easily have walked in! Though at this point you were too mentally exhausted to deal with the embarrassment of all that. “Uhm..” You awkwardly stood there, completely changed into new attire (it felt much more comfortable, admittedly, now that your damp clothes weren’t sticking to your back), holding your damp clothes in a semi-neat bundle in your hands. Levi stood from straightening the blanket out, pulling back the blankets neatly in the corner, leaving it there as an invitation for you to get back in bed with crisp, dry sheets. He cautiously glanced over his shoulder before he turned to face you, making sure you were decent. He bundled the sheets in his hands and grabbed your nightwear from you as well. His fingers brushing against yours, causing you to meet his steely gaze. You were surprised to see a firmness to them, as though he were silently relaying something to you. You didn’t know what, but it made you feel like you should take a deep breath and trust in him. It was one of those knowing looks.

And with that, Levi left the room with your damp clothes and sheets. Suddenly your room felt colder, you felt colder. Your hands came up and hugged your arms as you glanced around the empty room before your orbs landed on the window. You couldn’t see much outside. Just the stars and the silhouette of the trees. In the daylight, it was an open field of just greenery. Grass for miles, trees, blue sky, flowers blooming. Things that one could take pleasure in but also have that trampled and slipped through your fingers in seconds, just like Levi did with those titans that plagued your dreams. In that moment, you were thrusted back into that vision; the darkness that had you screaming out for Levi. The colours of your world tainted in blood and flesh. His own screams matching yours. You hadn’t realized how rapidly the panic arose within you until you were struggling to breathe and you felt a pair of hands clasp over your wrists, which were resting on your forehead, your fingers curled in the air slightly. At some point you had pressed yourself back against the wall and slid down back into a crouching position again. Slender finger curled around your wrists and tugged them down, “Y/N!” Levi wasn’t even gone a full two minutes as he walked from one end of the building to the other, to dispose of your damp sheets and nightwear. He didn’t think you could get any worse than when you were slightly unresponsive from earlier, so he didn’t think it would be a problem to leave you on your own for a moment or so. It was when he walked down the hallway, back to your room, that he heard those struggling whimpers. The type of sound where you struggle to breathe in between trying to force down the uprising hysteria. (In your case, panic). “Hey.” His low, firm voice called out, losing the iciness that was usually toned in his speech. He got no response from you except to watch you bump yourself against the wall and slide down on legs that couldn’t seem to support your weight. “Y/N.” Footsteps brought Levi over to you but you still didn’t seem to acknowledge him. It wasn’t until he crouched down in front of you and pulled your wrists away from your face, that you finally acknowledged him. Your E/C orbs glanced at his stormy grey ones, his head ducked to be in your line of view, nothing but concern showing through those orbs of his despite the stoic expression he wore. You were on the verge of tears for various reasons. Mostly because you felt so helpless with your feelings, thoughts and emotions. It was overwhelming. You’ve never had a nightmare that affected you so. Levi said nothing. He continued to hold your wrists firmly, gaze locked on yours. What could he say to make it better for you? Nothing, really, except to validate your feelings and even then, it feels useless to do so. Instead, he just quietly held your gaze, quietly grounding you again. You held his gaze back, latching on to it as though it were a lifeline to you. Perhaps he could see that, hence why he hadn’t let go of your wrists nor moved away from you. He intended to stay until he knew for certain that you were going to be alright. The lack of verbal reassurance didn’t bother you overly. You knew he was a man of action rather than words – as the saying goes ‘actions speak louder than words’ and how fitting that seemed to describe him. He didn’t even pull away when Eren came by with the tea. “Uh Captain Levi, sir? I got the teas you wanted.” Levi gave you a slight nod, hopefully successfully relaying that he’s going to break eye contact but he’s still here. His grey eyes left yours to look over his shoulder at Eren who carried a small tray with two teas. “Put it on the table.” Levi gave the simple order. Eren nodded in response and carefully walked the tray over, placing it down on the bedside table. “Anything else, sir?” “That’s all. Go back to bed. You lot have an early start tomorrow.” Another nod from Eren, “Goodnight sir. Goodnight Y/N.” his green eyes cast over your slightly distraught form, breathing back under control again. “Goodnight. Sorry I woke you.” You murmured barely above a whisper. But you heard Eren hum in response, had you looked up you would have seen your friend’s face full of concern, but you kept your eyes downcast.

Eren seemed hesitant to leave you but you were in the hands of Levi, and even though he might not be the most emotionally supportive person, or appear to be, he’s still the safest person to leave you with. Footsteps quietly retreated as Eren headed back to bed. He might still be naïve in his young age, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew there was something there between you and Levi. While you both weren’t publicly lovey-dovey, nor were you behind close doors, there still seemed to be the silent connection between the two of you. Kind of like how Petra, Oluo and the rest of the ‘Levi Squad’ had the silent understanding of they worked together.

Levi watched Eren leave the room before he turned his attention to you, expecting to meet your gaze but your head was ducked out of his view. His fingers uncurled their grip from your wrist but didn’t let go entirely. They trailed over your skin until he gripped your hands in his, fingers curling over your palm instead. Your own fingers curled lightly against his. At least it was some sort of acknowledgement, he was content to settle with that. Bare minimums, it was better than nothing. “Your tea’s going cold and that shit’s expensive. Come on.” He gave a small tug to your hands, hinting for you to stand up and move to the bed. He didn’t mind you were in a sulky mood, but he’d rather you sulk in bed rather than on the dirty floor. Standing up, he felt you move slightly, and with his help, you were standing upright. You could still feel your body trembling violently internally. If given any food, you likely would have thrown it up. You stumbled in your footing and Levi’s quick reflexes had his hands reaching out to balance you. “Easy.” He murmured in a gentle warning, this time he kept his grip on you as he guided you to bed. Grey eyes bore into your frame, taking in your features, your current state. He wondered if something else was going on with you other than the nightmare. Feeling ill, perhaps? You looked far more paler than when he left you to change your sheets. He pushed the blankets back just a little further so you could climb in bed without needing to squish yourself up in order to get beneath the blankets. You certainly hadn’t expected Levi to ‘tuck’ you in either. Though, his version of ‘tucking you in’ was to flick the blankets back up and leave it at that. Still. The small gesture touched your heart and you felt a little of the whatever-it-is-your-feeling ebb away. You leant back against the frame of the bed, hands resting your lap until a cup of tea was brought into view, and your hands welcomed the warmth of the cup. The bed dipped slightly as Levi sat on the edge, facing you, taking in your pale, exhausted features. You suddenly looked so small to Levi. Sitting in bed, slightly curled in on yourself despite your current position. You still looked bothered. Upset. He didn’t know what, but it unsettled him. You had a haunted look in your eyes; it was something Levi couldn’t just up and leave you be. Not that he was planning to just yet. But afterwards… he had a feeling that, even then, he didn’t want to leave you. He’d probably be content to pull up a chair and just watch over you for the rest of the night. But you still looked shaken up.

“What the hell happened in your nightmare?” he finally broke the silence since you were avoiding eye contact as you slowly sipped away at the tea. “Nothing… just the usual.” You quietly respond, though you were annoyed at yourself the way your voice wavered to a quiet tone afterwards. “You’re a shitty liar.” Typical Levi, calling bullshit the minute he sees it. “It’s clearly more than the titans to have you like this.” There was a long stretch of silence on your end and Levi waited patiently for you to answer. He could see you trying to collect your thoughts as your E/C orbs danced back and forth, and your brow gently furrowing. The last part Levi would have found cute had it been under a less distraught situation. Eventually you found your voice, even though it was a lot quieter than you thought you were being, “No, it was that. But…It’s just… you were there. And then you weren’t. They had you. They had you and I couldn’t get to you in time. And it was my fault. It was my fault. I tried, Levi, I tried so hard. I ran as fast I could.” The more you spoke, talked about what relayed in your head, the more the hysteria was building up in your voice until it caught in your throat on a threatened sob, which Levi immediately picked up on. He was quick to remove your half-drunk cup of tea from your hands and place it on the tray by the bed.

Finally the sob tore through, “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!”

It was clear that you had thrusted yourself back in the dream as you relayed it to Levi, losing your place in reality for a moment.

Levi finally reached for you, in the sense of physical reassurance. His right hand reached for your upper arm, tugging you forward. He pulled himself forward too, so he could position you against him. His left hand came around and looped around the nape of your neck, pulling you into his chest. His right hand left your arm and immediately came around your back. “Calm down Y/N. It was just a nightmare.” Probably not the best words to be comforting someone with, brushing aside the valid response to a nightmare. But Levi wasn’t one to verbally comfort someone without soft reassurances. He says it how he sees it. Stating the facts. But it was the calmness in his voice that people can find safety and reassurance with. Almost like he was trying take your burden and carry it so you don’t have to. Humanity’s Strongest. Your hands shot out from resting in your lap to gripping his shirt on either side of his hips. He could feel his shirt tugged down slightly as the material scrunching into creases, but it didn’t seem to bother him. If it did, he didn’t show any signs. Despite the fear of wanting to close your eyes again, your eyes immediately squeezed shut when your ear was pressed to his chest, the sound of his heart beating in perfect rhythm blocking out the screams from your nightmare that still echoed in your head.

Your exposed ear was resting in the crevice of this thumb and forefinger, long slender fingers threaded through your locks as he gently cradled your head to his chest. This had been the most comforting thing you needed, to be engulfed in his scent, his warmth. Despite being the cold, distant, stoic man he is, even when comforting someone to this degree, he still had warmth and compassion within him, it’s just hidden behind that exterior he wears. If you’re smart enough, understand him enough, you’ll be able to see through the cracks and realise it’s the things he does that offer comfort.

Your body shook with the sobs that you were trying to hold in but failing miserably at doing so. Your teeth had hold of your bottom lip to force the sounds from pouring out but if you bit down any harder, you’d cause yourself to bleed. So you surrendered the fight and let it all out. Your body trembling violently beneath his grip as your entire being was struggling to let out all that you held in.

You felt Levi’s grip on you tighten just a little bit, obviously not enough to hurt where his fingers were cradling your head. “It’s alright… It’s just a nightmare. You’re safe.” He couldn’t promise that the nightmare wouldn’t become a reality, because there’s always a chance that it could. And he didn’t see the need to make empty promises. But he couldn’t just silently let you cry it out like this. Not when your sobs were wails of pain. It’s likely you might have woken some more of your colleagues up, especially with your bedroom door still open, but Levi didn’t give a shit about it right now. And he certainly wasn’t going to let go just to shut the door. If someone came in to investigate, he’d have no issue telling them to scram. It really must’ve been a fucked-up nightmare for you. He could only imagine just how graphically the nightmare played out for you. He wouldn’t be all that surprised if you chose to stay awake for the remainder of the night. He’d rather you not because you all have an early start in the morning with training, but he’d also understand. As long as you’re still right to train, he didn’t care if you didn’t fall back asleep.

Levi’s heartrate didn’t change, it kept beating in perfect rhythm, matching the calm tone of his voice and demeanor. You were grateful for this because it helped ground you once more as your cries quietened down. But you didn’t move away from him, nor did he make any movement to pull away from you. He continued to hold you to his chest, his other hand giving your back a small rub here or there. He patiently and quietly waited until you were ready to decide what to do next.

But you never did. You stayed like that for a good long while, Levi never questioned it, never moved. He continued to hold you as long as you needed. Oddly enough, your eyes begun to flutter close. The emotions draining you completely with exhaustion. It wasn’t until Levi felt his shirt relax from your grip that he craned his head to take a glance at your features. Your nose was red from crying, your eyes were slightly puffy, lashes still wet from the tears. It was at this point that Levi finally made the first movement as he stirred you from dozing off to sleep so you could lay down properly. And you did so without little grumble. Too exhausted to fight it off. Levi stayed. He got up to close the door, but he pulled up a chair and stayed. It was only a couple of hours until the sun rose above the hills. If you could get a couple hours worth of sleep in, he’d be content with that. The room was already lighting up with the darkened morning beginning to fade as the sun made its way around to their side of the earth.

Arms and legs crossed, his gaze rested on your peaceful features, contemplating how badly this nightmare had shaken you up. He knows you’ve seen horrors, had a few close calls with death – they all have. But he’s never seen anything to have brought you down like this. Though, there’s always something that makes a person break. Even him. You always amazed him how strong you were. You carried the team the same way he did. Putting aside your emotions and feelings in order to push the squad forward and focus on the mission. You were their sounding board, their grounding point. Especially when they needed someone to talk on a personal level where Levi couldn’t offer them that. If it weren’t for your softness, you would’ve made a great Vice Captain.

He cares for you. More than you’ll ever know. More than he’ll ever let on, or admit to. It’s why he chose to stay rather than retreat back to his office. He didn’t feel comfortable leaving you after witnessing you break the way you did over something so trivial as a nightmare. Even though you were asleep and there was nothing more Levi could do.

He stayed.

#Levi x Reader #Captain Levi x Reader #Levi Ackerman x Reader #AoT x reader #Attack on Titan x Reader #SnK x Reader #Shingeki no Kyoujin x Reader #Levi Hurt Comfort #Levi Nightmare #your-wings-of-freedom

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imagine-it-to-be-true · 3 years

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Fix You - Caius Volturi x FemOC Three Shot: Part 2

Hey guys! So, originally, this story was supposed to be a One-shot. But because of the overwhelming amount of requests I’ve received (thank you so much sweeties, by the way), I’ve decided to make it into a three parter. This is part 2, and the first part can be found on my blog. I’m not sure when I get around to writing part 3 as uni starts back up today, but I’ll try my best not to keep you in suspense for too long. This part is more centred around chaos than romance. Nothing belongs to me (including the GIF) Also, warnings: violence, blood, death.

Andromeda’s POV

The sensations were weird. First, I had been in a lot of pain around my stomach region. I could hardly breathe, let alone express my pain to the handsome-yet-creepy, blonde stranger taking care of me. Though I’m sure he knew. I mean, even I knew I was dying, and he was helpless to save me, so I didn’t bother speaking. I could see the concern in his eyes and hear his sweet whisperings as he stroked my cheeks and wiped away my tears. But these little comforts were not enough to stop the hurt. Then, when I saw him holding a huge syringe, it sent me into panic mode. I never liked needles, not to mention ones which were about to inject unfamiliar liquids into me. But he reassured me it would help, which calmed me down. Not like I could defend myself in that moment anyways. I guess it couldn’t hurt me more. It turned out he was right. After a few minutes, I noticed the pain slowly going away. Maybe it wasn’t the liquid, but the fast-approaching release of death, I wasn’t sure. My cries began to slow, and I could feel more pleasant sensations, such as the pale man stroking my hand with his thumb, gently massaging circles into it. Then, he asked,

“What is your name, omorfiá mou?”

Gasping for air, I attempted to speak,

“Andromeda,” came my whispered reply. With my half-opened eyes, I was able to see his perfect lips draw up in a smile. Focusing on his features, I didn’t even realize that my pain was entirely gone, and I was feeling rather loopy. I watched the man bend down closer to me, brushing my hair back and running his ice-cold knuckles down the side of my neck. Suddenly I felt a sense of vulnerability. I felt his cool breath hitting my ear as he whispered,

“Do not be afraid. You will live forever. You are mine now, and I will never let anything hurt you again.” I was confused and fear began to resurface. I had gotten away from one creep, only to be taken by another. This man scared me to my core. But before I could dwell on my thoughts, I saw him quickly lean down towards my neck, as if he was about to kiss me. That was not what happened.

Indeed, I momentarily felt his cool lips touch the sensitive skin of my neck. But then a sharp pain erupted. Whatever it was that he injected into me was definitely helping. I was aching again, though differently this time. It was a dull, electrifying, fiery sensation, which immediately spread from my neck to my brain, and all the way down to the tips of my toes. My body was on fire, but it was not as intense. If one were to be scratched over and over and over again, pain would increase. This was what I was going through. It was continuous and that was making it worse. An hour had passed, then two, then I lost count. I couldn’t see anything anymore, my vision clouded. Yet I could still hear him. He never seemed to leave. Others would come and go. Time would pass and I would feel needles in my arms. I assume he kept injecting me with whatever it was, which managed my pain; probably morphine. I learned his name was Caius from others who had come in and spoken to him. Caius. What an unusual name. But it fit him.

He had injected so much morphine into me that the dull burning sensation eventually stopped. That, or perhaps I adjusted to it. I could not tell how much time had passed, but by now, it had been a while, for sure. I had given up. If it were not for his constant voice, and feeling of his icy hands touching my own, I would have believed I passed on. But eventually, my vision slowly began to return. I hadn’t felt injections in hours, and no pain returned, which was strange.

The entire time I lay there, presumably dying, I thought of my life. Who would miss me? I had no parents. Both died in a car crash when I was 12. I was in the back seat and miraculously survived. Given no time to adjust to the tragedy, I was immediately placed in a foster home in New Haven, where I experienced endless amounts of bullying. But as with all foster children, my stay was temporary. For the next five years, I bounced from one home to the next. This made me reserved, quiet, and untrusting. I was socially awkward and had very few friends. My main comforts came from the company of animals. Truthfully, I got used to this solitary existence, finding that I expressed myself better through storytelling than the spoken word. In fact, my unfortunate childhood did not impact my standing at school. I was always a good student, and this landed me a fully paid scholarship to NYU where I completed a double degree in journalism and history. The lack of family and friends allowed me to dedicate all my time to my studies and work, which was conducting research for my professor. Then, after graduating, I decided to make a drastic change and start fresh with a move to Europe. For the last two years, I had spent my time travelling several countries and writing articles on historical artifacts, buildings, and churches. I sold my stories to networks as a freelance historical journalist, living alone and moving often from place to place. In fact, Volterra was my last stop in Europe before I planned to relocate to Egypt and focus on Pharaonic history there. Not many of Volterra’s tourists knew about the building I had been photographing, which was off the main street and down an alleyway. It was not glamorous, but historic, which drove me to it. That is where I was and what I was doing when I was suddenly grabbed and dragged into a dark alleyway.

My life had been flashing before my eyes over and over again. I wanted to live. To do better. To be better. I was sick of being alone. So, when my vision began returning, I was filled with motivation to live. Really live. Finally, I could focus my eyes. I stared up at what appeared to be a bed canopy. It was velvet, and dark red in color. To my right, I could sense the smell of burning candles. It was so prominent that it made my nose burn. My hands were balled into fists, grasping the cotton sheets and I could see that I ripped holes in them. How much pain was I in that I ripped a bedsheet with my bare hands? I then noticed something strange. I was not breathing. Since when was I not breathing? This frightened me immensely, and I bolted into an upright sitting position. As I did, the bed violently shook. The canopy swayed as if it would collapse at any second. Did I do this? I’m a weak little girl who couldn’t even fight off a drunk man in an alleyway, how was I doing all this? I heard a sound to my left and immediately snapped my head towards the source. It was a young woman – girl more like it – that I did not recognize. She had strange red eyes, much like my rescuer. But she frightened me more than him. There was a certain evil surrounding her, I could sense it. How, I did not know. All I knew was that she did not wish me well.

“Hello, Andromeda.” She spoke coolly.

I looked at her, suspicion and confusion painted over my face.

“H-how do you know my name?”

“Master Caius told me.”

‘Master?’ that sounded strange. Not something a girl would call a man. What was this, a sex trafficking operation? Before I could speak, she continued.

“He has been by your side. He will return any minute now. He went out hunting for you.” She spoke like an information-giving robot: just spewing facts, unmoving, her expression unchanging.

I closed my eyes and shook my head. “Hunting… that’s not necessary. I- I don’t eat meat.” Her expression finally changed. Her smirk transformed into a creepy smile, and she let out a laugh.

“Believe me, dear girl. It is not exactly meat he will be returning with.” She turned on her heels and stormed out of the room. Two guards opened the bedroom door for her and shut it as she left. So, they have my room guarded. I guess they aren’t going to let me leave.

I was not in a hurry; I needed to see Caius. Thank him. And ask him how he was able to fix me. Was I remembering correctly that he bit me?! What a strange thing to do. I looked down on my stomach, which was completely injury-free. Then, I reached my hand to the back of my neck, trying to feel any bitemarks there. Nothing. What the hell? I did not understand. I had a lot of questions and needed answers, the most pressing of which was why my throat was on fire. I would have asked the girl, but something in me yelled to keep my distance from her; that she was dangerous. Slowly, I stood up from the bed, noticing that the white dress I had on when I was shot was no longer on me. Instead, I wore a soft, white nightgown, with lace on the collar. It seemed like a typical garment from Tudor England, or something. It was unlike anything I had seen in any mall or shop. Come to think of it, the entire room had a historic, gothic feel to it. The décor resembled a royal palace.

My feet hit the marble floor and I began walking around the room, making my way to the bookshelf. There, a massive assortment of books awaited. However, they were not the typical books one would find in a normal home. These were all historic and ancient. I picked up a copy of the Iliad. Looking at the bindings, I could tell the book was old. More interestingly, it was still written in Homeric Greek – not a language many would be able to read. Whoever this belongs to was most definitely smart.

Suddenly, I felt the burning in my throat worsen. The sensation intensified to the point where I was nearly panicking. Ready to run for the doors and ask the guards for help, I heard footsteps approaching.

The door swung open, and the man… Caius walked in. No longer dying, I could properly admire his features. He looked perfect, truly. Not a single flaw on his face or skin. His nearly white, blonde hair carefully combed back behind his ears. He moved towards where I was sat in an armchair and knelt in front of me. Immediately, I was filled with a calmness. It was like I was home. I cannot describe it completely, but it was as if all problems were erased, and I was safe. This was the second time I managed to judge a person based on feelings, all within the last few minutes. First with the young woman from earlier, and now Caius. Before he could speak, the feeling was gone, and replaced once again with unease and danger, as I watched the young woman reappear, dragging a man by his wrist. Behind her, the guards entered the room and stood on either side of the man. I could feel that he was not dangerous, as the fear was practically radiating off him. The woman stepped behind him and gave him a push towards me.

“Dinner,” she stated coldly. I looked from her to the frightened man, to Caius. I could see annoyance on his face, as he turned to her and spoke.

“Must you, Jane? Do you not know of patience?”

“Forgive me, Master Caius. You were not one to show patience often, and I do learn from you.” She stated simply.

When Caius turned to me, I was grasping my throat, which was burning almost unbearably. “What is happening?!” I choked out.

“I know this will not make sense to you right now, and I will explain everything, I promise. But the only thing that will stop the ache is if you drink blood. You need to drink this man’s blood.” Caius whispered to me, out of earshot of the poor man.

I froze and looked at him with wide eyes, face in complete and utter shock.

“WHAT?! What did you just say?!” I exclaimed, not believing what I heard.

He sighed and leaned in once again, whispering. “In order to save your life from your injuries, I was forced to turn you into a vampire. You need blood, and you need it now. Trust me.” He tried again.

“I WILL NOT! ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?!” Hastily standing, I pushed him away. My intention was to give him a normal, hard push so that he gets the message. But nothing prepared me for what happened. When I pushed him, he went flying across the room and hitting a marble column, which shattered on impact. Immediately, the room was filled with noise and dust as the column went crashing down around him. I pushed myself into the corner of the room and watched in terror. That impact would have killed an elephant. Yet Caius, simply rose, brushing dust off his blazer and pants. The evil woman – Jane as he called her – appeared emotionless as she turned her attention from Caius to me.

“Fine. More for us then,” she said. What followed, was simply too much for me to handle.

First, I heard Caius yelling, “Jane, NO!” In one swift motion, she tore the frightened man’s throat with her teeth. Blood gushed out from the wound, spilling all over the white marble floor. I screamed in terror. But what was even more terrifying than the poor man’s death, was the smell of his blood. It was driving me crazy. It was like nothing I had ever experienced it. I craved it. Needed it. And was so close to taking it all for myself. But with any remaining strength I had left, I stopped myself. This was not me. I was a vegetarian because I cared for the well-being of animals. There was not a thing in the world which would force me to do anything to harm another living soul. So, I curled up in a ball in my corner and rocked back and forth, trying to focus my senses on anything other than the delicious smell of blood.

“I will deal with you later. Take him and leave, now!” I heard Caius’ voice. “You are not to come here again; you are not to see her! Now go!”

“Yes, Master Caius.” I heard her disgusting, venomous voice once again as she left. The doors closed and the room was filled with silence.

I momentarily thought Caius left too, but then I felt the sensation of safety return to me.

“How did I do that?” I ask with a shaking voice.

“You are a new vampire. For the first few weeks, you will be stronger than the rest of us. This will pass, and you will adjust.” He said gently.

I continued hugging my knees and rocking. Caius continued.

“This is not how a newborn should experience the first moments. But Andromeda…” he hesitated, “You need to feed. If you do not, it will only get worse. Your awareness will seize to function, and you will eventually kill more than you would have otherwise.”

With no response from me, Caius reached for my hands, placing his own over them. This woke a rage inside of me. I grasped his wrists and pushed him backwards. His back hit the wall, not as hard this time. I began speaking.

“You did this to me. You made me this… this… monster. This is on you. You should have let me die. Now, because of your selfish need for heroism, I will murder countless others.”

We both rose to our feet. He gently approached me again, saying my name, but I held my hand up to block him. “Get out. I don’t ever want to see you again. I hate you.”

With that, I pushed him towards the direction of the door. He paused,

“Andromeda-”

“GET OUT!” I picked up a glass vase and threw it in his direction, and he finally left. I sat down on the cold marble tiles, pressing my back against the wall, and screamed in agony.

#caius volturi #caius #twilight #new moon #eclipse #breaking dawn #volturi #volturi imagine #oneshot requests #oneshots #vampire #love #romance #hurt comfort #jane volturi

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marjansmarwani · 3 years

Text

fading under dying light

3.9k || ao3

After a rough shift TK comes home to an empty condo and decides to go for a run to clear his head, to avoid being alone with his thoughts. But when he runs into trouble on his run it’s Carlos who comes home to find him, to save him. He just hopes he was fast enough, that he wasn’t too late to save the person that matters most. ------ Day 7 of Angst Week: Free Choice + “grabbed by the hair” for @badthingshappenbingo

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He hadn’t been able to save them.

Two brothers, 16 and 19, trapped in a car that had gone off an embankment and he hadn’t been able to save them. It didn’t matter that he had been able to go down to the vehicle without a problem, it didn’t matter that he and the fire crew had done everything they could. In the end, they were still gone. Two young lives ended far before their time; two fearful gazes that had held his own until the very end. He had seen the moment it had ended, he had been there still fighting against fate when their time ran out. He had been there for the moment that would shape a family’s new reality and he couldn’t get it out of his head.

So, when he had arrived home to an empty condo and Carlos still had another 2 hours left in his shift, he had decided to go for a run. It was better than sitting alone with his thoughts — anything was better than that.

So he found himself in the nearby park; the sound of his feet pounding against the pavement echoing through the cool night air was almost enough to drown out his thoughts. It was late and the park was nearly empty, which suited TK just fine. Being around people right now seemed unbearable. His crew - both fire and medical - had extended invitations, had offered to stay with him; to prevent him from being alone. But being alone is what he needed right now. He needed this time to process, to sort through the thoughts swirling through his head.

He had done everything he possibly could have to save those boys, he knew that. He knew that he wasn’t at fault, that he was in no way to blame for what had happened. No one was. It had been an accident; a tragic, awful accident. But maybe that was the problem. Maybe it wasn’t so much that he hadn’t been able to save them as it was the grief and guilt in the older brother’s eyes as he told TK in a low voice that it was all his fault. That he had taken his eyes off the road for one second, and that single second had made all the difference. Maybe it was that though TK had tried to reassure him that mistakes happened and that it didn’t make him a bad person he was almost certain that the older boy — Danny — hadn’t believed him. That he had died thinking that it was his fault, that he had killed his brother.

Maybe it was the fact that TK had made so many mistakes of his own — mistakes far, far worse than looking away from the road — but he was still here and Danny and Ryan weren’t anymore. He had been given so many chances and they hadn’t even gotten one, and he couldn’t reconcile that idea in his mind.

He had been trying since it happened. He had even said as much to Paul and Marjan when they had checked in on him, when they had caught him in a vulnerable moment. But no amount of logic or reassurance could make this better, nothing could make it make sense. That wouldn’t stop him from trying, though.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he did not see the skateboard in his way until it was too late. His foot caught the edge of it and sent him crashing to the ground where he lay as pain blossomed from throughout his body. He groaned and was about to push himself up to assess the damage when he heard footsteps. He froze for a moment, trying to get a sense of how many there were when a fresh pain ripped through him as a hand reached into his hair and hauled him up. He hissed in pain as the hand tightened in his hair, pulling him up to his knees so he could see the figures surrounding him.

There were three of them and, as best TK could tell through his watering eyes, they looked young. No older than Danny.

“Hand over your wallet and no one needs to get hurt,” the one in front of him instructed and TK shook his head.

“I don’t have it on me,” he explained, “I don’t carry it when I run.”

“Why don’t I believe you?” the figure asked and TK shrugged the best he could.

“I don’t know, but it’s the truth.”

“Maybe we should just check to see,” the figure said to the companion standing beside him he nodded and lunged forward and TK felt a blinding flash of white-hot pain.

“I don’t have anything,” he gasped again, “all I have is my phone and airpods. You can take them, but that’s all I have.”

There were hands on him then and though TK tried to follow the movements it was hard when his head was a cloud of pain. It seemed like an eternity before a new voice spoke.

“It looks like he’s telling the truth, all I’ve got is his phone and airpods, like he said.”

The first figure shrugged and looked down at TK, “Then I guess that’s what we take. Let him go and let’s get out of here.”

The hand gripping his hair disappeared and TK sagged forward without it to hold him upright. He crumpled to the ground, instinctively curling in on himself to protect his wound and prevent any further pain. But the sound of retreating footsteps told him that there was no need, the danger was gone and he was on his own. He pulled himself off the ground and looked down, trying to locate the source of the white-hot pain burning through his abdomen.

He located a red spot, steadily consuming the gray of his shirt. He pulled up his shirt, hissing in pain as the material clung to his skin, to get a better look at the wound. It was a puncture wound, likely from some sort of blade, but it didn’t look too deep. He was only a few blocks from the condo, he could make it home and get a better look at it. Besides, they had taken his phone. He had no way to call for help. He was on his own.

He pulled himself off of the ground gingerly, swaying for a moment on his feet before he found his balance. He took a deep breath and headed in the direction of his home, keeping a hand carefully pressed against the wound all the while. It wasn’t a far walk but he was moving more slowly than usual and though he had no way of knowing how long it had been, he was certain it was longer than the usual 8 minutes it took to walk to the park.

He let himself in; thankful they hadn’t thought to take his keys, at least, before heading up the stairs towards the bathroom. He had to pause in the middle, gripping the railing tightly as a wave of dizziness washed over him, nearly toppling him on the stairs. He waited for it to pass before pulling himself up the last few stairs and entering the bathroom. He flipped on the light and was taken aback by the sight of his own reflection in the mirror.

He was far paler than he should be and the bloodstain had grown to show beyond the hand covering the wound. He lifted his hand to see that the blood was now dripping at an alarming rate. Maybe it was deeper than he thought after all.

He stepped closer to the counter, reaching for the medicine cabinet. If he could at least get it bandaged, if he could put some better pressure on it he should be able to buy himself some more time. He just needed enough time to figure out how to call for help without his phone. Or for Carlos to get home. TK had no idea how long had passed since he had set out for his run but he was sure that it had been nearly two hours; Carlos should be home soon. It would be okay. He just needed to handle it until then.

He managed to pry open the medicine cabinet and fumble through it, hand landing on the first aid kit they stored there. He tried to tighten his grip on it, to pull it out, but his body wasn’t responding to him. Hypovolemic shock his mind provided, far too late to do anything about it. He had lost too much blood; his body was starting to shut down to preserve itself. He tried to grab the first aid kit again, but he knew it wouldn’t do any good. There was nothing in there that could help him now.

He got one last look at his reflection in the mirror — skin pale and face shining with sweat despite the fact that he could feel shivers racing through his body — before darkness began to encroach on his vision. He tried to tighten his grip on the wound, to put as much pressure on it as possible but he knew it was a lost cause.

He had one fleeting thought as the darkness took over and he could feel himself sinking to the ground: though he hated the thought of Carlos having to find him like this he hoped desperately that he came home soon.

He hoped that he got here before it was too late.

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

Carlos sighed wearily as he stepped up to his front door, pulling out his keys as he reached the threshold. It was late and his shift had been long, he was just happy to have gotten out on time. For a while, it seemed like it would never end.

But it had and now he was home and all he wanted to do was convince TK to order some takeout and curl up on the couch with his boyfriend and possibly fall asleep in his arms. He didn’t think that was too much to ask.

He barely looked around as he stepped inside, calling out to TK as he shut the door behind him, “Hey babe! I’m thinking takeout tonight, unless you had other plans.”

There was no response and Carlos frowned as he pulled off his shoes. He glanced at the table beside the door to see that TK’s keys were there.

“TK?” he tried again. “You here?”

He didn’t get a response but a glance up the stairs showed him that the bathroom lights were on. Carlos grinned and headed in that direction only to freeze when his foot made contact with something wet and sticky. He looked down and felt his heart jump into his throat.

It was blood, and there was a trail of it leading all the way up the stairs. Carlos stood and stared for a moment, rooted to the spot by horror before his mind caught up and put all the pieces together: TK was hurt.

Carlos raced up the stairs the moment the shock faded; heart thudding in his chest. He barely took a moment to dwell on the growing horror at the sight of a larger puddle almost at the top. It was too much blood. Whatever had happened it was bad and he needed to find TK now.

He reached the bathroom a moment later and careened through the open doorway only to freeze at the sight that met him: TK, sprawled on the ground in a small pool of blood. He wasn’t moving.

Carlos crashed to his knees beside his still form, reaching out a shaking hand to feel for his pulse. For several moments he felt nothing and Carlos couldn’t breathe, the weight of dread and despair pressing on him from every angle. Then, by some miracle, he felt it. A slight beat under his fingers. It was weak and slow but it was there and in that moment it was the best thing Carlos had ever felt.

He blinked to clear his eyes of the tears that had gathered as he reached into his pocket for his phone, dialing before tossing it next to him on speaker. He leaned forward to examine TK as the call connected and the familiar cadence of dispatch answered: 911, what is your emergency?

Carlos swallowed before speaking: “I just came home to find my boyfriend unconscious and bleeding. I think he’s been stabbed.”

Because know that he was looking he saw it: a wound at the center of all the blood. It was angry and red and nothing he had ever wanted to see on the body of the man he loved but a sight he was all too familiar with nonetheless. He answered the rest of the questions on autopilot, providing his name and address and other relevant details but the majority of his focus was on TK. He had been next to him, touching him and moving him and he hadn’t stirred. Carlos was no medic but even he was well aware that was a bad sign.

He desperately wanted to know what had happened. TK had sent him a text two hours ago to tell him he had made it home. He had been fine, but now he was bleeding in their bathroom wearing his running clothes and Carlos had no idea why. The only thing he knew for sure was that he needed TK to wake up. Nothing else mattered.

Soon there was commotion as a paramedic team showed up as well as some uniformed officers. Carlos told his colleagues what he knew, answered all the questions the best he could but his eyes never left TK. Through all the prodding and commotion he hadn’t stirred once and that more than anything else reignited the cold fear in Carlos’s chest.

The paramedics worked quickly and efficiently and in no time they had him on a gurney, ready to head to the hospital. Carlos stepped away from the officer he had been speaking to without a word, silently following them down the stairs and to the ambulance. He paused at the door, eyes seeking the paramedic Captain who met his eyes and nodded, gesturing for him to climb in.

He did without a second thought and watched with a heavy heart as they continued to work on TK, giving him fluids and starting a transfusion.

“Is he going to be okay?” he asked quietly, desperately. His voice was thick and when the other paramedic — Megan from the 132, Carlos had worked with her on several scenes — looked up at him, her gaze was grim.

“He’s going to give it the best he has,” she said eventually, “and from what I hear he’s pretty stubborn, but I’m sure you know that.”

Carlos nodded. TK was stubborn, more so than anyone else he had ever met. But there had also been so much blood on the stairs and the floor and god knows where else and he knew what that meant. He knew how precarious this situation was, he knew exactly how much danger TK was in.

He closed his eyes as they raced towards the hospital, squeezing TK’s hand that he had been holding since he had entered the ambulance. Megan was right, TK was stubborn, but so was he. And if anyone thought that they were taking TK away from him, they’d have to go through him first.

He wasn’t about to let him go without a fight.

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

When TK woke up, he wasn’t fully sure he was awake.

Actually, when he wakes up, he’s not too sure of anything.

He opened his eyes to see the dim light of dawn peeking through the window. Soft pinks and oranges paint the room and distantly TK wonders how he forgot to shut the curtains. He always made sure to shut the curtains after Carlos has a late shift. His boyfriend is naturally an early riser but blocking out the morning sun helped to make sure that he got an adequate amount of sleep after a late shift. TK went to roll over to make sure Carlos was still sleeping when he realized that he wasn’t in their bed.

From there the pieces fell into place and the realization dawned on him: he was in the hospital. He frowned to himself trying to remember how and why. He didn’t think he had gotten hurt on shift and he was pretty sure it hadn’t been one of his usual kitchen accidents but he couldn’t figure out what it was, his mind was too hazy.

He looked around the room and smiled fondly as he saw Carlos, asleep in the chair next to his bed, his head rested on folded arms next to his hip. He reached out a gentle hand to brush a curl off of his forehead, nearly jumping himself when his light touch caused Carlos to sit bolt upright, eyes frantically looking around the room. They seemed unfocused when they found TK looking at him, for a moment. Then he blinked and they cleared as relief flooded his expression. “TK,” he breathed, reaching out to place a hand on his cheek.

TK leaned into the warmth of the touch and smiled at him until he saw the tears pooling in the corners of his eyes.

“Carlos?” he asked, voice weaker than he expected, “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” Carlos repeated incredulously, “what’s wrong? TK, you almost died. I almost lost you.”

“What?” he asked, his heart rate picking up at the distress in Carlos’s voice, “What do you mean? What happened?”

“I was hoping you could tell me,” Carlos said more softly. “I came home and found you passed out and bleeding in the bathroom. You had been stabbed, and it was pretty deep.TK, what happened?”

His voice was desperate and TK frowned as he thought. His mind was still fuzzy, but bits and pieces were starting to come back to fill in the blanks left by Carlos’s words.

“We had a rough call during my shift,” he remembered, feeling the pang of guilt and grief hit him all over again, “and I didn’t want to dwell on it so I went for a run. I was running in the park and I think a group of kids robbed me. They were just kids, Carlos, they couldn’t have been more than 19.”

“But they stabbed you,” Carlos said darkly. “I think that graduates them from ‘just kids’, TK.”

“They asked for my wallet but when I told them I didn’t have it…” he trailed off but judging by Carlos’s grimace he could fill in the blanks. “They’re just kids Carlos,” he told him again, “they have their whole lives ahead of them.”

“But thanks to them, you almost didn’t.” Carlos pointed out, his firm tone shifting as choked out the last words, “you almost died, TK. I almost lost you. That goes well beyond kid stuff.”

TK knew Carlos was right but the thoughts he had been running away from were back. He couldn’t stand to think that these boys, no older than Danny had been, were out of chances. He couldn’t stand the thought of their lives as they knew them ending over a stupid mistake.

Carlos was studying him now. He knew that he was an open book to the other man, he had always been. Carlos reached for his hand and wound their fingers together, “Why don’t you tell me what is really going on,” he asked gently. “It has to do with the rough shift, doesn’t it?”

TK swallowed and looked down. “There were two brothers,” he whispered, just loud enough that Carlos could hear, “16 and 19. The older brother was driving. He kept saying that he had just looked away from the road for a moment, that it was all his fault. He made a mistake Carlos — a simple, stupid mistake — and now he and his little brother are both dead. They didn’t get a second chance.”

There were tears running down his face now, but he didn’t bother wiping them away.

“They didn’t get a second chance,” he repeated, “and I’ve had so many. It just doesn’t seem fair.”

He felt a hand on his face as Carlos wiped away the tears running down his face. “You’ve used those chances Ty,” he reminded him tenderly, “you’ve used them to become a better person, to help people. They brought you here and made you who you are. They weren’t wasted and they weren’t a mistake; I think they were fate.”

“But why me?” he asked, voice thick with tears as he met Carlos’s warm brown eyes, “Why did I deserve it? Why didn’t they?”

“I can’t answer that Ty,” Carlos responded sadly, “no one can. We don’t get a say in who gets a second chance. That goes for you, the brothers, and those kids that did this to you.”

TK knew he was right. He knew that it was out of his hands and that regardless of what he said or did, the boys who had robbed him in the park would either be caught and punished out they wouldn’t. It was out of his hands. Carlos was watching him and TK was sure that he knew what he was thinking.

“If that’s not enough,” Carlos said after a few moments, “think about the fact that they could do this again, and that the next person might not be so lucky. The next time it could be a loved one planning a funeral instead of sitting in the ER, because that’s almost where this ended, TK. You can’t protect them.”

TK wasn’t sure “protect” was the right word. He just didn’t want to see three young lives altered over one mistake. He wanted to see them move past this, to grow from it, but he knew he had no say in the matter. He shifted his focus instead to Carlos who was here and who he could help.

“How are you doing?” he asked him, shaking his head at Carlos’s objection. “Don’t give me that,” he insisted. “You have been waiting and worrying all night. You found me and saved me. While I am beyond grateful, I know if it had been me and it had been you, I would be a mess so don’t lie to me, Carlos.”

He held his boyfriend’s gaze, watching as it wilted and as Carlos took a deep, shaky breath.

“It was the scariest thing I have ever faced,” he admitted. “I was a wreck the whole time you were in surgery. If it hadn’t been for your dad and your team, I don’t know what I would have done. But I knew you would be okay because any other possibility was unacceptable.”

“Is that so?” TK asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Mhm,” Carlos agreed. “Because if anyone tried to take you away from me they’d have to go through me first. I don’t give up easily; I learned from the best, after all.”

TK smiled and pulled at Carlos’s hand. He was still too weak for it to make much of a difference but luckily Carlos understood and moved closer. TK leaned in to give him a kiss: short, but full of love. He liked to think that it was a promise too, but just in case he said the words aloud.

“And I would do the same for you,” he vowed, holding Carlos’s eyes and giving him a smile. “We’re in this for the long haul, you know. Anybody who says otherwise will have to answer to me.”

66 notes · View notes

noladyme · 3 years

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La Cuervo - Chapter 9

She is used to the biker-life, having grown into a woman in the familiar embrace of SAMCRO. A bad decision and a gun-shot later, she gets whisked off to Santo Padre, and put under the protection of another club. What is supposed to be a short stint in the Mayan headquarters just north of the border to Mexico, turns into something more; when la quervo begins to develop feelings for el angel - and he seems to return them in kind...

TW: violence, blood, drug use, alcohol, smut, fluff, angst

In the spirit of "The Crown Princess of Charming", this is a story about O.C. Nina and Angel Reyes. It is obviously non-canon, as characters who have passed on on Mayans M.C. are present in it, and others have been excluded completely. Nina is written as a cis-female, but I have tried to keep her race and looks as ambigous as possible. Should you find any of this story offensive, please let me know.

Bishop leaned back in his seat, and took a drag of his cigar. “Go on…”. “What I’ve been paying Alvarez so far, I’m willing to pay you, for information on any woman who might have crossed to Mexico, who fits the description of Gael's killer”, Palo said. “Which is…?”, Angel asked. “Asthmatic prostitute", Sala declared with a hoarse laugh, and ran a finger up Daniella’s thigh. The blonde smiled flirtatiously at him, before shooting Angel and Nina a dirty look.

Nina began shifting on Angel’s lap. He responded by stroking soothing circles on her back. “Coco, Gilly and Angel are our border-runners", Bishop said. Palo looked towards Angel and Nina, and Nina almost felt it as a gush of ice wind to be under his gaze. His eyes were so similar to Gaels, it was difficult to remain calm. “Yeah, but we haven’t seen nothing “, Angel said. “Still, you might at some point”, Palo said. “We could make some business together if you do”. “What is it you want?”, Bishop said. “I want you to find the girl, and bring her to me, so I can do to her what she did to my cousin… after I spend some time paying her back for the pain and money she’s cost me trying to find her”.

Nina looked down at her drink and realized she hadn’t touched it. The talk of the Mayans tracking her down for Palo, so he could kill her, was getting to be more than she could handle. Topping that of, was the promise of whatever torture he had planned. She downed her drink quickly, and coughed a little, as the burning liquid made its way down her throat. Filip straightened in his seat. “This conversation is between your two clubs. Now if you don’t mind, the young lady here seems to be in need of a dance”. He looked at Angel. “Unless you have a problem with that”. Nina looked at Angel almost pleadingly. She needed to get away from the situation, but keeping up appearances meant that Angel needed to give his permission – though they both knew that if the situation had been different, and she wasn’t trying to blend in, this wouldn’t have made a difference to her. Angel gave her a quick kiss. “Can’t say no to the SAMCRO prez, can I…?”, he said. “Go on, mami”. Filip reached out his arm, and Nina took it; doing her best not to make it too obvious how much she needed to lean on him, as they walked away.

“How are you feeling, luv'?”, Filip asked, as he led her over towards the evening's designated dancing-area. “Do you need your inhaler? Where is it?”. “In the trailer… But no. It’s not that. I’m just… scared”, she admitted. “Everything is fine. The Vatos don’t suspect anything”, Filip said. She put her hands on his shoulders, and Filip put his hands on her waist; and they began moving together to the song that was playing.

“You look beautiful", he said. “Bullshit”, she said, her voice shaking. “You’re just trying to make me feel better”. “When have I ever lied about the way you look?”, Filip frowned. “Remember that pimple on your forehead?”. Nina let a smile find its way to her lips at the memory. “You called me The Creature from the Black Lagoon for a week”, she said. “It was humongous! Terrifying…”, Filip exclaimed. “But it’s true. You’re breathtaking tonight. Though, it might just be because you look happier than you have in years”. They swayed together for a long moment, before Nina replied. “I am… I think", she said. “And Mr. Sharp-as-a-marble over there did that?”, Filip grunted. She scowled at him “Sorry…I suppose he has a certain Neanderthalic charm to him, and seeing as you more or less grew up in a club, it makes sense for you to fall for a patch… I just thought we’d lose you to one of our own charters. You have first lady potential, my love. It’s not too late for us to get out of here. We could drop you off with SAMDINO”. “Packer?”, Nina gasped. She shuddered at the thought of the San Bernadino president. “That man eats nails for breakfast”. “So do you. And you wash it down with coffee blacker than the night”, Filip chuckled. “Yeah, well; that’s not happening”, Nina muttered.

They danced for a moment longer. Nina locked eyes with Angel, and he shot her a warm smile. Filip noticed them looking at each other, and chuckled to himself. “He’s… It feels right", Nina said quietly. “Jackie-boy would be happy for you”, he said. Nina looked at him, and swallowed thickly, to wet her throat. “And you? Are you happy for me?”, Nina asked. “I’m not as smart as he was”, Filip said, and gallantly made her twirl under his arm. Nina giggled at the motion, and when he pulled her back in, she threw her arms around his neck; hugging him close. “Thank you… For being my family. For taking care of me…”. “But… it’s time for you to make your own life”, Filip said, cutting her off. She winced at his words. “Don’t do that… It feels like you’re saying goodbye”, Nina said. “Aren’t I? You’ve got yourself a new family”, he replied. “You’re my family… SAMCRO is”. She felt tears beginning to form in her eyes. “And now these people are as well, it seems”, Filip replied. He moved a finger under her chin, and lifted her head to look into her eyes. “We will always be your family, Nina. And we will never make you chose; you got that?”. Nina nodded, and Filip placed a covert kiss on her temple.

The song was over, and Nina quickly dried her eyes. Coco came up to them from somewhere, his expression worried. “Yo, where’s that mouse-cabron?”, he asked Filip. “Ratboy? Haven’t seen him in a few”, Filip replied. “Why?”. Coco cursed below his breath. “I can’t find Letty. He was checking her out earlier”, he grunted. Nina shook her head. “Coco, I told him to keep away. You don’t have anything to worry about”. “Yeah? Then where the fuck are they?”.

They began searching the premises. Coco was fuming; almost shaking in rage. Going into the clubhouse, they found a couple of girls knocking on the door to the bathroom. “Come on. We have to pee!”, one of them cried out. “What’s going on in there?”, Nina asked. “One of those Charming guys went in there with a girl like 15 minutes ago”, the girl replied. Coco strode over, and pushed the girls away, before pounding the door. “Letty…? Leticia!”, he roared. The door was almost shaking from the force of his fist. “If this thing with VM doesn’t start a war; Rat’s dick might…”, Filip muttered to Nina. He walked over to Coco, and pushed him away. “Rat?”.

The door opened, and Quinn came out; zipping his jeans. “What man? I was in the middle of something”. Coco’s eyes widened in rage, before a strange brunette with an embarrassed grin came out behind Quinn; wiping her lips. “Fuck…”, Coco snarled. “Sorry, brother”, Filip said. “We’re looking for his kid. She might have slipped off with Rat”. Quinn nodded in direction of the door. “I saw them going towards the office building”. Coco almost ran out the door, bumping in to Angel as he passed. “Letty…”, Nina said to him, as he looked confusedly at her. Angel rolled his eyes, and followed Coco; Filip and Nina at his heels.

They ran across the yard, through the crowd, and made it to the office, just as Coco pulled his gun; and kicked in the door. “What the fuck?”, he yelled, as he stood in the doorway. Filip and Angel rushed over to stop him, but halted in their steps; and both laughed out loud. “What”, Nina asked, and ran over to see what was going on. She pushed her way past the men, and found Coco aiming his gun at Rat, who was blowing his nose in some tissue. He and Letty laid on their stomachs on the floor, watching The Notebook on her iPad. “Coco? What the fuck?”, Leticia said. “My bad. I thought you were… What the fuck are you doing?”, Coco asked. “What does it look like?”, Letty snarled. Angel patted Coco’s shoulder. “Put away the gun, man”, he said. Coco clenched his jaw, and groaned. “Letty, go home”, he said. Rat looked at him pleadingly. “Can we finish the movie first?” Filip chuckled, and shook his head. “Finish the movie, and then take this young lady home, Ratboy”, he said. “No hanky-panky”. Rat nodded, while Letty rolled her eyes.

They left Rat and Letty to it, and walked back towards the party. Filip led Coco in front of him, with a hand on his shoulder. Angel slipped an arm around Nina, and made them fall behind. “Come dance with me”, he said. Nina looked at him disbelievingly. “You dance?”, she chuckled. Angel smirked at her. “I do a lot of things you don’t know about yet”. He led her towards the dancing area, and wrapped both arms tightly around her, holding her close. Nina merged her fingers behind his neck, and let him lead her to the rhythm of the music. Angel danced like he rode his bike; confident, and showing off just the right amount. He knew how to move, and was beyond needing to prove himself, but he was also a smug bastard. At one point, he decided to sweep a leg behind her, and dip her so far to the ground she could almost feel her hair brush the ground. She laughed at the move, and shivered in pleasure as Angel placed a soft kiss to her neck, when he lifted her up again. Nina felt comfortable and safe in his arms, and let herself swim away in his deep eyes.

“Have a nice chat with your brother?”, Angel asked. “Yeah… It was nice to not have to pretend not to know him for just a couple of minutes”, Nina sighed. “I get that”, he replied. “Did he say anything… interesting?”. Nina raised a brow at him. “Nosy…”, she grinned. Angel shrugged embarrassedly. “No, nothing interesting. Just relaying a job-offer”. “Yeah?”. “Yup. First lady of SAMDINO”. Angel’s eyes widened. “Fuck. That’s a good offer. Sure you don’t wanna take it?”. Nina laughed, and punched his shoulder. “You sick of me already, Mayan?”. “Not possible, cuervo”, Angel smiled, and dipped his head to meet her lips. She inhaled him as he kissed her; the mix of liquor, cologne, musk and pure Angel filling her nose and her entire being. He pulled back, and looked down at her; and without using his voice, it was as if he spoke the words she was beginning to think she felt herself.

Angel drew in a breath, and was about to speak, when he chuckled and shook his head. “What?”, Nina said. “We should split”, he said. “Why? Is something wrong?”, she asked. He placed his lips to her ear. “Nah, but the way you’re moving, ma’; my dick is hard as a rock”, he growled, and pressed his groin against her to prove his point. Nina giggled, and turned to press her lips to his again. “But I didn’t have any of the chorizo yet”, she breathed. “I’ll give you the fucking chorizo”, Angel said, and moved his hand down to squeeze her butt, sending shivers through her spine. “You’re disgusting”, she smirked. He raised a brow at her, and moved his hand covertly under the skirt of her dress; ghosting her folds. “Disgusting is making you wet, ma’”, he whispered. Dipping his finger behind the fabric of her panties, and just inside her, Angel smirked as Nina let out a soft moan.

They quickly caught up with Filip and Coco, who had calmed down by now. They were at the bar with Tig, Bishop and Palo. Nina did her best to ignore the Vato. “I’m taking my girl home”, Angel said. Filip nodded, and shook his hand. “Alright, brother”, he said, and turned to Nina. “It was lovely to meet you, sweetheart”. “Will you be sticking around?”, she asked. “We head out tomorrow”, Tig replied, and winked at her. We’ll say goodbye then, he way saying.

Angel gave Coco a hug, and Nina kissed his cheek; before they headed towards the trailer to get her things. While she rushed to pack up her belongings, Angel waited in the doorway; tilting his head to look up her skirt every time she bent over. Nina couldn’t help but smile at his wanton glares, but frowned when she turned towards the table. The gun was there, but the inhaler was gone. “What’s wrong?”, Angel asked. “My inhaler… It’s gone”, she replied. He shrugged. “You probably already packed it”, he said. “No… It was right here”. Angel crouched down to check under the table. “You sure? Maybe you lost it when you were getting stuff ready for tonight”, he said. He got up to stand, and took her hand. “Are you ok? Do you need it right now?”. “No, but… Angel, I left it right here!”. Angel frowned, and something unreadable ghosted his face. “I’ll take you to get a new one tomorrow, yeah?”. Nina sighed, and nodded. “Yeah… ok”. She put her gun in her bag and grabbed her helmet. “Let’s go”.

Once back outside, Angel nodded at Bishop, Palo and Filip, who were standing on the porch. Bishop waved at them, and they went to get on Angel’s bike. Soon after, they were driving off the lot. Nina felt a wave of relief wash over her, once they were out of eyesight of the yard.

---

The vibrations of the bike didn’t do anything to calm the building tingling sensation in Nina’s lower belly; at the anticipation of what awaited her. She tightened her grasp on Angel’s waist, and did her best to avoid moving her hands down to his crotch, so that she wouldn’t distract his driving.

They hardly made it inside the house, before Angel had pulled her bag off her back, and thrown it on the floor. He attacked her lips while his hands roamed her body. His fingers travelled up under her skirt, and found their way down her panties; tracing her lower lips for a second, before his middle and ring finger plunged in to her. Nina threw her arms around his neck, and gasped. “Oh… shit… Oh my god…”, she panted, as he scissored them against her front wall. The heel of his hand rubbed deliciously against her clit, and she was finding it hard to stand. “I got you…”, Angel breathed. Nina could only moan in reply, and moved her hips to ride his fingers. “You like this? You want me to make you come like this, mami?”. “Fuck… yes”, Nina pleaded; her feet slipping on the floor. The sounds of Angel’s fingers working on her were obscene, with the slick noises of her wetness against his hand. His other arm went around her back, and held her in place. “Then fucking come for me. Come on my hand”. Her legs were already shaking, and when Angel made an especially hard thrust of his fingers, they gave in; and all that kept her horizontal was her arms around neck. She cried out as her climax hit her, and heat spread through her body. She would have fallen backwards if it wasn’t for Angel’s hold on her.

He lowered her to the floor, and quickly shed his cut and top. With shaking hands, Nina pulled off her panties, and threw them in a corner somewhere. Angel got down on the floor, and crawled over her; kissing her with a passion. She pushed at his shoulders, making him lay down on his back, and straddled his legs; yanking at his jeans, while he laughingly tried to open his belt. “There’s my greedy girl…”, he grinned. She finally managed to get his pants and boxers pulled down; and gasped in pleasure as his erection sprung free. Scooting forwards, and lifting herself, she then grabbed a hold of him, and held him to her opening; sinking down while she let out a mewl at the delicious stretch. “Fuck…”, she whimpered, and began moving on top of him.

As Angel grabbed her hips to guide her movements, Nina unzipped her dress behind her, and pulled it over her head. She then unhooked her bra, and threw it behind her; knocking over a half-drunken beer on the table. Angel was holding on to her so hard that she was sure to have bruises on her hips. She was grinding against him, desperately trying to reach her high again. “You’re so fucking beautiful like this”, Angel groaned, and moved his hands to her breasts; kneading them, and pulling at her nipples. The sting was equal parts pleasurable and painful, and Nina threw her head back in extasy. He was so deep inside her – filling her so perfectly – that she felt like they were growing in to one being. Leaning her hands on Angel’s chest for leverage, she began moving up and down in stead of grinding. Every time her butt hit his thighs, and his dick bottomed out in her, she let out a gasping whimper. “You feel so good…”, she panted. “Don’t stop, mami. Keep moving like that”, Angel demanded. She clenched her muscles around him, and his expression became almost animal, as he let out a growl. “Fuck me!”.

Nina grabbed his lower arms, and he held on to hers, so she could use him as leverage while she leaned back. She managed to get into a position where Angel was hitting her g-spot at every thrust of her hips; and she sped up her movements, beginning to feel another climax nearing. “Angel!”, she cried out, as she came for the second time; her body shaking and heart feeling like it was trying to pound its way out of her chest. Angel sat up, and wrapped his arms around her; putting his hands on her shoulders to keep her pinned to his cock. She kept moving, dragging out her pleasure; and felt his abs tense up against her belly, letting her know he was close as well. “I’m gonna cum”, he announced. “Don’t stop!”. Nina was almost crying from the intense waves of the orgasm still washing through her. Angel cried out, and spilled himself inside her. She felt her body calm down, and began relaxing against him. Angel buried his face in the crook of her neck, and laughed. “Fuck, Nina…”. He looked up at her, and released his arms from around her. Cupping her face, he kissed her deeply. “That was…”. “Yeah…”, Nina smiled.

Panting in each other’s arms for a while longer, Angel finally put his hands on Nina’s butt, to gently lift her off him. She whined in disappointment at the loss of their connection, when he made her get off his lap. “Come on, ma'. Move your ass. I need to get something to eat", Angel chuckled, and patted her butt-cheek playfully as she moved to sit on the floor. Nina grinned at his words, and spread her legs, to invite him in. “Well, if you want…”, she said. Angel laughed, and leaned over to kiss her softly, before getting off the floor, and pulling his pants up, without closing them. “Real nourishment, querida”, he said, and walked into the kitchen to search the fridge for something edible.

Nina huffed in annoyance, and got to her feet; grabbing her dress, and beginning to pull it over her head to cover herself up. Angel appeared in the doorway, and gave her a displeased once-over. “What are you doing? Who said I was done with you?”. Nina’s eyes snapped up at him, and she nearby felt her knees buckle from the sheer machismo of his stance. His jeans hung from his hips, giving her just enough of a view of his pubic-bone, to make her shiver in lust, and his gaze was proud. She dropped the dress and stepped towards him, and Angel put his free hand on her hip, as he put a carton of juice to his mouth. A droplet escaped his lips, and she got on her toes and licked it from the corner of his mouth. Angel set down the juice on the counter, and snatched a packet of cereal from a shelf, before smacking Nina's butt to make her turn around again.

His juices were beginning to run down her leg, which was really the only sign that he’d already come tonight; as, when he walked behind Nina, his penis poked her in the back. He was still hard, horny, and – as he’d said – not done with her. Once in the bedroom, Angel threw an arm around Nina, holding the packet of cereal against her belly. His other hand went to her throat; forcing her back against his chest. She turned her head, and managed to draw a kiss from him, before he pushed her down on the bed; landing on her chest. Angel grabbed a pillow, and made her lift her hips, so he could place it under her; lifting her backside for him. She lay there with bated breath, and anticipating his entering her at any moment; but time dragged out, and she was beginning to wonder what he was waiting for.

Suddenly, she heard a crunching noise. “What are you doing?”, she asked. “Don’t move”, Angel replied. She felt his fingertips making small dips on each of her butt-cheeks, then up her spine. She began to turn her head. “What…?”. Angel took a firm hold of her head, and turned it forwards again. “I said; don’t move”, he growled. Something fell off her butt, and landed on the bed. “Look what you did…”. Then she realized what he had been doing. “Is that cereal?”, she chuckled. Angel replaced the little oat-ring on her cheek. “Said I was hungry”, he said. She could hear the smile in his voice.

Placing the packet on the floor, Angel placed his lips on first her left cheek – kissing it, and sucking the cereal into his mouth. He did the same thing on her other cheek, and Nina found it hard to lay still from the feel of his lips on her body. Angel travelled up her spine, kissing her skin, and sucking the cereal trail into his mouth. She felt goosebumps forming in the wake of Angel’s lips, and her tunnel clenched around nothing; wanting him inside her so bad. He made sure not to put his weight on her. All she felt of him where his lips and tongue; though his body radiated heat which contrasted delightfully with the coolness of the wet spots he left in his wake up her back.

Finally reaching the last piece of cereal at the nape up her neck, Angel left a lingering kiss, and licked his way down to the spot bellow her ear. Here he suckled for a millisecond, before plunging his cock inside her; and laying down on top of her, pressing her into the mattress. Nina cried out at the sensation of being full again. Angel began a brutal pace, slamming in to her hard with every thrust. She was being squeezed under his weight, and loved every second of it. A stray tear left her eye. “You good, mami?”, Angel panted. “Harder!”, Nina demanded. Angel laughed, and fucked in to her with even more vigor.

Nina felt her scalp sting, as Angel grabbed a hold of her hair, and made her turn her head, so he could kiss her. The sounds of her gasps and moans mixed with Angel’s groaning, and his hips hitting her backside continuously. She felt her climax approaching, and Angel wrapped his hand around her throat again, carefully squeezing it. She felt dominated and used, and at the same time safe and cared for beyond belief. Her tears of pleasure mixed with tears of joy, as she exploded into an orgasm. “Oh… god!”, she almost screamed, her voice ragged. Angel let go of her throat, and used her clenching tunnel to reach his own high. Making a ragged groan, he finally climaxed, and came inside her.

He kissed the nape of her neck, and pulled out; collapsing next to her on the bed. Too overwhelmed to move, and still shaking from her orgasm, Nina couldn’t turn around, and simply whimpered. Angel smiled softly, and pulled her into his arms, letting her settle against his chest. He grabbed the packet of cereal, and picked an oat-ring out; before holding it to Nina’s lips, and letting her eat it. “Thank you…”, she smiled. “Right back at you. Do you wanna go clean up?”. “No…”, Nina yawned. “But I have to. UTI’s are not sexy”. Angel kissed her temple. “Go…”, he said, and helped her sit up. She crawled off the bed, and went into the bathroom.

She found Angel on his phone, when she reentered the bedroom. He looked serious as he spoke. “Did they say they’d be back…? What lead…? Yeah, ok… Nah, we’ll be there before reaper heads out again… Yeah, see you then”. He hung up, and looked at Nina. “Vatos Malditos just rode out”. Nina crawled under the sheets, and curled up next to him. “Is something wrong?”, she asked. Angel frowned slightly. “Sala told Taza they had a lead on Gael’s killer…”, he muttered. “This is good. It means they don’t suspect you”. Nina sighed. “Yeah… maybe”. Angel pulled her into his arms, and pressed his lips to hers. “You’re good, cuervo. You’re safe”.

She nodded; not sure if she agreed.

---

Angel was still asleep when Nina woke in the morning. He had a blissful expression on his face, and she didn’t have the heart to wake him; but her bladder was craving her attention, so carefully she slipped out of his embrace to go pee. Catching her reflection in the mirror, she saw that the two hickeys on her neck were almost gone. It was strangely sad, and she almost wanted to ask Angel to make another one.

Grabbing one of his t-shirts from the bedroom, and putting it on; Nina moved into the living room to look around. The quietness of the morning was almost deafening, but not uncomfortable. Angel’s house was strangely homey, in spite of its macho clutter and the bike-parts on the worktable by the door. She slipped into the kitchen to check for coffee, but came up short. He had a coffeemaker, but no beans. If Angel planned on having her around, that would not fly in the future. She found a can of coke in the fridge, and decided it would have to do as a caffeine-shot for now; before walking back into the living room, sipping her beverage.

There was a picture on a small table by the couch, and Nina sat down; picking it up to look at it. A kind looking woman was holding a baby in her arms and laughing at the camera, while a little boy with dark, expressive eyes had his arms around her neck, and was grinning at the baby. “My mom…”, Angel said. He was standing in the doorway, wearing only a pair of black boxer-briefs, and rubbing his eyes. Nina quickly put down the picture, feeling like she’d been caught touching something sacred. “Sorry”, she muttered. He walked over and picked up the picture. “It’s ok…”, he said, smiling a little at the frame, before setting it down again. He joined her on the couch, and pulled her legs over his thighs, before leaning in for a soft kiss. “She died”. “I’m sorry”. “Me too”, he replied. “It was a hit…”. Nina swallowed thickly. “Because of the club?”, she asked. “Nah… Some other shit. Much older”. She took his hand, and brushed her lips over his knuckles. They were still bruised after his cagefight the night before. “Do you wanna talk about it?”, she asked. He looked at her again, and smiled sadly. “Yeah… Some day. Not now”. Nina knew how that was, and simply nodded.

He grabbed her waist and pulled her fully onto his lap, so that she sat sideways on it. “You’re saying goodbye to your family today…”, he said. His words stung in her heart, but she decided to take the fact with a raised head. “Not all of it. You’ve all taken me in as well”, she said. Angel kissed her shoulder. “Just don’t call me your brother. That’s weird”. Nina grinned at him, and tugged at his beard. “Nah… Papi works…”.

---

#angel reyes #angel reyes fic #angel reyes x oc #angel reyes smut #angel reyes imagine #mayans mc fic #sons of anarchy #ez reyes #chibs telford

57 notes · View notes

heyiwrotesomethings · 3 years

Text

Nicknames

ShinoMitsu Week 2021 Day Five: (Long Distance, Nicknames, Kimetsu Gakuen)

A/N: I kind of got a little carried away with giving Mitsuri’s siblings names and some screen time but I don't think it made this too much longer. Two more days left! Thanks for reading! Word Count: 3,074

“Hi, cutie pie!” Mitsuri said just before she clamped onto Shinobu’s back after classes let out. “Did you have a good day?”

“That one’s a miss.” Shinobu had answered. “But yes, my day was fine.”

“Aw, but you are a cutie pie!” Mitsuri grumbled.

“No.” Shinobu denied.

For some reason, seemingly overnight, Mitsuri became obsessed with finding Shinobu a nickname, but Shinobu had thus far rebuffed all of her attempts. A few names in the long list Mitsuri had tried were babe, baby, sweet pea, honey bunny, peanut, snuggle bug, muffin, cupcake, donut, marshmallow... a lot of them she had come up with while she was hungry. Every single one had been rejected with a laugh or a cringe, or a deadpan expression by Shinobu, but Mitsuri was not ready to give up anytime soon!

“Okay then speedy, I’ll walk you to the locker room.” Mitsuri tried again.

“My dad calls me speedy.” Shinobu revealed, “He’s been calling me that ever since I could walk.”

“What, so I can’t call you that?”

“No, you can’t.”

“Ah! How about my butterfly! That’s perfect!” Mitsuri shouted in excitement.

“Sorry, that’s claimed as well. Mom calls Kanae, Kanao and I her butterflies.”

Mitsuri huffed, disappointed, but she wasn’t done yet, not by a long shot.

“Very well then, milady.” Mitsuri said with a small bow.

Shinobu snorted.

“No, just no.” Shinobu shook her head while Mitsuri puffed out her cheeks.

“It’s harder than it looks!” Mitsuri defended, crossing her arms. “I’d like to see you come up with a nickname for me.”

“I call you Mitsu sometimes, don’t I?” Shinobu asked, retrieving her track bag from her cubby.

“Yes, and I like that, but, it’s very inside the box. Try something different and see how hard it is!”

“Mitsuri, no offense, but I think you’d like anything I came up with. You’re kind of a sap for this stuff.” Shinobu said, distractedly looking into her bag to make sure she had everything as they walked to the locker room.

“I would not! Trust me, not any old throwaway nickname will be enough to sway me.” Mitsuri stated confidently.

“Hmm...” Shinobu tapped her chin, thinking for a moment. Mitsuri was right, not any old nickname would be good. She had to think of something that she would actually like to call her girlfriend. Something that was near synonymous with her. Just before they reached the locker room, a small smile curved at her lips and she stopped in her tracks. Mitsuri watched her expectantly.

“Thank you for walking me to the locker room. I’ll see you on the bleachers, my sunshine.” Shinobu winked, she goddamn winked without looking like a total ass!

Mitsuri’s heart leapt in her chest and her face felt hot. She tried to hold it together, but Shinobu just sounded so genuine and sunshine was actually a really cute nickname and— argh!

“That’s not fair, Shinobu!” Mitsuri whined, covering her face. She swore it was growing even brighter as the Kouhai laughed.

“Keep trying, I’m looking forward to see what you come up with next.” Shinobu said before heading into the locker room.

Mitsuri didn’t waste anytime hurrying to the bleachers so she could figure out a nickname for Shinobu while she practiced. She sat there, tapping her feet against the metal plank below her. Her elbows on her knees and her hands holding up her head as she stayed completely zeroed in on Shinobu. Watching her, she hoped for something to come to her like some divine intervention.

Shinobu had an affinity for purple, maybe plum would be nice? Sugar plum? No, Shinobu never seemed to thrilled with the food related pet names.

Perhaps sleeping beauty? Whenever they slept over, Shinobu always looked so enchanting in her sleep. Maybe a good choice for when she just woke up or was notably tired, but it’s not exactly a catch all name that could make sense at anytime.

Flower, maybe? A certain type... lily seemed too on the nose. Shinobu always smelled like blooming wisteria, but Mitsuri didn’t think that made a good nickname. It was pretty, but it just didn’t sound playful enough.

Mitsuri blinked, breaking from her concentration as she realized that Shinobu had been swarmed with a handful of her teammates and they were all looking right back up at her with big, troublesome grins.

Apparently, Mitsuri was staring so obviously and with such intent, that she had made a bit of a spectacle of herself. She gave an embarrassed smile and waved down at them whilst blush prickled at her skin.

“Kanroji and Kochou sitting in a tree—” Mitsuri heard one of the girls start to sing before Shinobu punched her in the arm. Mitsuri recognized the girl as Makio-chan, a friend from her class.

The other two she recognized simply because they were usually in Shinobu’s relay team. Makomo-san and Ozaki-san smiled good-naturedly as they laughed along. They were also well known from the swim team and tennis club respectively.

Shinobu rolled her eyes, her cheeks lightly flushed. She shooed the other girls back in their positions and leveled a small smile up at Mitsuri before darting off.

Mitsuri relaxed her muscles with a sigh. An afterimage of Shinobu’s dark, purple eyes stuck in her vision. They reminded her of the cool, vastness of space and when the light shined on them just right, Mitsuri swore she could see stars, whole galaxies even. If Mitsuri was Shinobu’s sunshine, then Shinobu was like Mitsuri’s moonlight.

“That’s it!” Mitsuri cheered loudly, her fists rocketed up above her head. She quickly covered her mouth however, once she realized just how loud she had yelled. Everyone in the bleachers around her and in the field below glanced at her curiously before turning back to whatever they were doing before.

“Just you wait, Shinobu.” Mitsuri mumbled much more quietly under her breath, tracing Shinobu’s figure as she leapt over the hurdles, “I’ve got some really good ideas now.”

***

Mitsuri waited for Shinobu to exit the locker room after practice, poised and ready to strike! As soon as the younger girl emerged from the room, Mitsuri pounced. She took Shinobu by the hand and quickly maneuvered out of the building.

“Where’s the fire?” Shinobu teased. “I knew you must have thought up something good judging by how loud you yelled during practice, but I don’t see the need for urgency.”

“You’ll see when the time is right! I want this to be as organic as possible.” Mitsuri said, still pulling Shinobu along even as they left the school gates.

“Whatever you like,” Shinobu smiled, “but whatever you are planning, surely we can walk? I’m kind of exhausted.”

“Oh, right!” Mitsuri remembered, coming to a sudden stop that had Shinobu bump into her back. “Sorry.”

“You’re okay.” Shinobu reassured, re-adjusting her hold on Mitsuri’s hand before they continued to walk at a more sustainable pace.

Before school, they had already agreed that they would go to Mitsuri’s house to watch over her younger siblings while her parents celebrated their anniversary. Almost as soon as they opened the door, Mitsuri’s mother ran up and quickly pushed the fussy one-year-old twins into the girls’ arms, one for each of them.

“Thank you Mitsuri, Shinobu.” The exhausted woman said, already halfway out the door. “We’ll be back before midnight, have fun and be good everyone!” She called over her shoulder before quickly shutting the door behind her. The girls swore they could hear the squeak of car tires as Mitsuri’s mother quickly drove away to pick up her husband as he got off work.

“Wow.” Was all Shinobu could manage as she recovered from the woman’s quick exit.

“I know,” Mitsuri giggled. “It’s one of the few days a year she doesn’t feel guilty getting away from all this chaos,” she lifted her little brother higher so she could blow a raspberry on his tummy, making him laugh. “It helps that you’re here of course, it makes her feel better because you’re so good with everyone.”

“I still don’t know why these kids like me so much,” Shinobu shook her head, taking hold of the hand of the near identical girl in her arms so she wouldn’t pull her hair.

“It’s impossible for a Kanroji to not like you, take my word for it.” Mitsuri said, making her way further into the home.

It was true, for some reason the rest of the Kanroji family fell in love with Shinobu right away and were eager to welcome her into their home. She was thankful of course, but part of her was sure the Kanroji parents were just excited to double the amount of free babysitters at their disposal. Still, they treated her well and she looked forward to visiting the busy home that greatly contrasted her own.

Six siblings, Mitsuri being the eldest at seventeen, almost eighteen now that Shinobu thought about it. Then there was Akimitsu, the oldest boy of the family. He was thirteen and went to the same middle school as Kanao. Shinobu thought the boy couldn’t be more different than his older sister. He was a very no nonsense soul and rather particular.

Natsumi was the middle child. She was eight and every bit as energetic as her sister which could lead to trouble if she was left alone. Mitsuri had told Shinobu one story where Natsumi had been unusually quiet so she and her mom had gone looking for her and found her in the bathroom with the tub overflowing with bubbles that she had dyed blue with some food coloring she had managed to snag from the kitchen.

Last but not least were the twins, Haruka, the girl, and Hayate, the boy, born just last year. When they were first born, Mitsuri had said it was hard to tell them apart at first glance. Now that they were getting older, it was much easier to tell who was who. They were sweet babies, but their moods could easily diminish at the drop of a hat. Fortunately they seemed content enough for the time being.

Shinobu followed Mitsuri, lightly bouncing Haruka in her arms as she walked. They followed the sound of the tv to the main portion of the home and found Natsumi laying flat on her stomach, coloring while watching some anime. Akimitsu was sitting nearby doing his homework.

“Hello Onee-san, Kochou-san.” Akimitsu politely greeted before turning back to his studies.

“Shinobu-chan is here?” Natsumi whipped her head around, jumping to her feet with an excited grin. “Hey, hey! Can we make something explode today?”

Shinobu had helped Natsumi make elephant toothpaste once for a school project and the little girl had been hounding her for more experiments ever since.

“I’m here too, you know.” Mitsuri griped, setting Hayate down in the play pen. Shinobu knelt down to place Haruka beside him.

“I see you everyday, Onee-chan.” Natsumi stated plainly.

Mitsuri crossed her arms and turned away to sulk in the corner. That seemed to do the trick because Natsumi went from hanging off of Shinobu, to comforting her sister, hugging her tightly until Mitsuri smiled and spun her around.

Akimitsu really made the work easy by helping out when he finished his homework. Natsumi was always so invested in what Shinobu was doing that they didn’t have to worry too much about her slinking off to cause mischief.

So while Mitsuri and Shinobu made dinner, Natsumi cheered them on and Akimitsu watched over the twins.

“Pancakes, pancakes!” Natsumi singsonged. “Hey Shinobu-chan, is that what you use to make a volcano explosion?” she asked, pointing at the tablespoon of white powder in Shinobu’s hand.

“Not quite. This is baking powder, baking soda and vinegar are used in most volcano simulations.” Shinobu informed.

“I wish you hadn’t told her that,” Mitsuri sighed. “I’m gonna have to put those in the lock box from now on.”

“Sorry.” Shinobu smiled.

“Come on Onee-chan, can’t we make one little mess please?” Natsumi asked, her bottom lip protruded.

“You’re still on notice after the coke and mentos fiasco.” Mitsuri reminded.

“Boo.” Natsumi jeered, now resting her head on the table.

Shinobu found the way Mitsuri scolded her siblings incredibly cute. Even as silly and childish as the older girl could be, she wasn’t a pushover and was very responsible.

“Onee-san,” Akimitsu emerged in the doorway looking a bit green, “I think the twins need to be changed.”

As helpful as the young boy was, even he had his limits.

“I’ll help you,” Shinobu graciously offered as she finished mixing the ingredients.

“Thank you,” Mitsuri smiled, turning back to her brother, “Okay, just a second,” Mitsuri called back, turning off the preheated griddle since they were walking away.

“Natsumi, why don’t you color in the living room while Shinobu and I clean up the twins, okay?” Mitsuri added as a thought. She couldn’t leave Natsumi in the kitchen unattended.

“Fine, I guess.” The younger Kanroji huffed before following Mitsuri and Shinobu out.

Akimitsu looked queasy as they entered the living room. Mitsuri giggled and ruffled his hair before picking up Hayate. Shinobu hoisted Haruka up and then they went off to the nursery room.

They cleaned the little ones up and changed them. Mitsuri getting done noticeably faster than Shinobu since she had to change more diapers than any normal seventeen year old should.

They weren’t really in much of a rush though and spent a little time in their semi-private room to talk to each other and babble with the twins, stealing a kiss or two before heading back.

“Natsumi!”

Mitsuri and Shinobu heard Akimitsu yell. The kitchen. They looked at each other before quickly putting the twins in the play pen and jogged towards the kitchen, Mitsuri in front of Shinobu.

“What’s going on?” Mitsuri called worriedly just before crossing the threshold.

“Onee-san, look out!” Akimitsu warned just a fraction too late as Mitsuri stepped on something slick and her foot swung out above her as she lost her balance and began falling backwards.

Mitsuri let out a surprised yelp and squeezed her eyes tightly shut, waiting for impact. Fortunately, impact never came. At least, not in the form of the cold hard ground, but rather, lithe yet firm arms.

“That was close, are you okay?” Shinobu asked from above. She had managed to catch Mitsuri just in time, hooking her arms under her girlfriend’s.

“Yeah,” Mitsuri nodded, a bit breathless, “yeah I’m okay.”

“Good,” Shinobu adjusted her hold, “Now, if you could adjust your footing that would be great. I don’t think I can hold this position much longer.” she said, her arms trembling a bit as she tried to hold Mitsuri up.

“Right,” Mitsuri grabbed the nearby counter and steadied herself, finally looking to the ground below caked in pancake batter. “What happened in here?”

“Natsumi.” Akimitsu answered, crossing his arms. “I'll admit I was resting my eyes because the twins left me with a bit of a headache. I didn’t realize she would take that as a cue to ruin dinner.”

“I didn’t mean too.” Natsumi sniffed, “I was trying to help. I wanted to surprise you and Shinobu-chan.”

“Well, surprise us you did.” Mitsuri smiled sympathetically. “Help me clean this mess. We’ll have to think of something else for dinner.”

“Okay.” Natsumi replied despondently.

The peace that was once fell over the Kanroji household was broken. Pancake batter all over the kitchen floor and griddle (that thankfully was still off) and the twins started wailing and were inconsolable. Shinobu and Akimitsu left the kitchen to try to calm them while Natsumi and Mitsuri cleaned everything up.

Mitsuri called for Shinobu to order something for delivery as it became increasingly obvious that the mess was sapping up all her energy and she was too hungry to start a whole new meal.

Thankfully, after an hour of struggle, everything seemed to get better once the food arrived. The babies especially responded favorably in presence of dinner. Though is seemed that more food ended up smeared on their faces than in their mouths.

After dinner, Shinobu washed off the twins while Mitsuri bid her other siblings good night. Then she came back to help Shinobu put the twins in their cribs. They watched the energetic babies wiggle at babble at each other between the bars, laughing at jokes only they could understand.

“Hey, that was a really good catch earlier.” Mitsuri said, placing her hand over Shinobu’s resting over the bar of the crib.

“I couldn’t not try to catch you. I’m just happy it worked out.” Shinobu said in return.

Mitsuri leaned down, resting her forehead on Shinobu’s shoulder, a small grin growing steadily on her face.

“Thank you for saving me from slamming into the slimy, hard floor, my knight.”

Mitsuri felt Shinobu stiffen and frowned slightly. She had high hopes for that nickname when she started taking a different approach. Slowly, she eased herself back to her full height.

“Did you not like that one either...” Mitsuri trailed of a bit before a wide smile overtook her lips.

Shinobu, though rigid, was flushed pink. She busied herself with Hayate, letting him pull her finger around, seemingly unaware of, or unwilling to answer Mitsuri.

“You like that one.” Mitsuri singsonged, wrapping her arms around Shinobu, rocking her from side to side with a satisfied giggle. “My knight in shining moonlight, Kochou Shinobu!”

“Mitsuri, cut it out.” Shinobu mumbled with very little bite. Her skin prickled with embarrassment as she was pushed around by Mitsuri’s movements.

“I thought of starshine too. I thought it would be cute since you called me sunshine.” Mitsuri went on instead. “I was thinking about how your eyes make me of outer space so I had a few more like comet, shooting star, my Venus—“

“Okay, okay,” Shinobu chuckled, “you had your hit, let’s not get too out of hand here.”

“So you really do like it?” Mitsuri asked.

“Maybe.” Shinobu replied stubbornly. She slipped her finger out of Hayate’s hand and retreated out of Mitsuri’s hold and out the door. She stopped just outside of the room to peer back at Mitsuri.

“Movie?” She asked, clearly attempting to change the subject.

Mitsuri playfully rolled her eyes and nodded. Giving the twins one last glance over before following after Shinobu to make some popcorn. Popcorn that she was going to drizzle with maple syrup since she couldn’t have her pancakes.

#shinomitsuweek2021 #shinomitsu #shinobu kochou #shinobu kocho #mitsuri kanroji #demon slayer #kny #au

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