#everybody who enjoys reading and thinking about books should at least give keeping one a shot | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cultofdixon · 9 months

Text

Keeping an eye on what you love

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • A peaceful moment in the prison led to feelings for a certain archer to resurface without fear of the next day. Oh how you didn’t realize until now, how observant one can be • SFW/Smol Angst • TW: Canon Violence / Minor Injuries

Requested by: @matilda4eve

You have to stop staring Y/N. It’s getting weird Y/N continued to do so as she sat at the tables in the quad watching some of the group reinforce the front fence of the prison. She had just finished her tasks for the day and took a load off, it just so happened to be at the right moment Daryl Dixon would be working outside in the remaining light hours of the day.

This has been going on for a while. Not saying many words to each other and Y/N simply watching Daryl exist doing whatsoever. It started at the quarry and now it’s happening at the prison, after all the chaos of course.

“Hey Y/N can I borrow you a sec?” Beth smiles asking for her help as Y/N nods returning the smile before getting up and following the young Greene.

Little did she know that the archer was watching the two’s interaction from where he stood with Rick and Glenn. He was lost in his own mindset and it took Glenn elbowing him to get him back.

“What’s up with you?”

“Nothin’. We’re losing light”

“You’re the one that zoned out” Rick chuckles picking up the wooden plank and holding it in place for Glenn to secure.

The night crawls in and their group hung out in their cellblock talking amongst themselves like it was old times of enjoying the others company. But also talking about the future of the prison. Y/N was part of the conversation regarding the farm with Hershel and Rick while Daryl being beside them was talking to Glenn and Sasha about setting up a run. Even if both were in different conversations, Y/N still managed to listen in while focusing on what’s being told to her.

“We should get more people to come on the run with us if we are gonna tackle something like that” said thing was the abandoned camp that the military has set up in a shopping center. Daryl brought himself to lean against the wall when he accidentally bumped shoulders with Y/N.

For some reason, he felt a spark when such happened. He gave an apoplectic look to her as she shrugged it off with a smile before turning back to Hershel to talk about the pig pen he was talking about.

“Daryl?” Sasha snaps him out of his thoughts as he turned back to those he was talking to while his mind was still elsewhere.

“Sorry”

“No worries. But I agree. We should get at least three more people to come with us? Just for now let’s stick with smaller runs that won’t take much time” Glenn states before continuing to talk about such but the words started to sound like white noise, to both of them.

Neither of them really pulled away from the smallest form of human contact. All Y/N did was readjust but kept her shoulder against Daryl’s as he sat still for a moment thinking he was making her uncomfortable, until he adjusted and kept close.

This…is new

Y/N found herself on watch in the late morning which was new given she’s usually on nights. But as she stood leaning against the railing, she saw everything happening including the archer get a team ready to go for a run. She heard times before that he never saw himself as a leader, but he’s a natural one if he ever needs to step up.

“Yo!”

The young Grimes caught Y/N off guard as she looked a bit ridiculous when turning her attention away. Like she was trying to hide something but Carl knew he was a bit unexpected.

“Sorry, Y/N. Someone just wanted me to give you this”

“Someone? Carl you know almost everybody. Who made you their messenger?” Y/N laughs a bit taking the book from him as he shrugged her off to avoid answering her question. She examined the cover reading ‘DUNE’ on it and remembering a conversation she had with Michonne about how it was one of her favorites. So maybe it was Michonne that had Carl give it to her? Who knows…

“You think…uh”

“Uh?” Y/N smiles feeling the pages and enjoying the comfort she received from just holding the book in her hands.

“Can read it to Jude. Yknow like. When I’m around” the kid can read. He just didn’t want to admit that he wants that old comfort that he got from his mom.

“I’m watching Judith tonight while your dad is on watch duty. Maybe a few chapters tonight? Not like she’d understand”

“It’s cool I can hold her and dumb it down for her” Carl smiles getting another laugh out of his family.

As the two were watched for a moment from Daryl on the ground as he sat on his bike waiting for the others to get ready in their car. The second he heard a honk that snapped him out of his thoughts he whistled for the two’s attention catching them both feeling some unexpected anxiety.

“Open the gates!” He yells for their attentions as they quickly got out of the watchtower and did what was asked.

Before Daryl got far he stopped abruptly when he heard Y/N yelling at him.

“Be safe!” Y/N yells with a smile followed as Daryl froze in his place looking back at her with a nod before returning forward and fighting back a smile following the car.

It was the little things

Either watched the other work, try to include themselves (respectfully) in conversations that held the other, exchanged passing looks, and the more Y/N’s collection of books grew she found who they were coming from as part of her wished she didn’t catch Daryl in the act because he stopped leaving books for a few days.

Then on a cold rainy night in the prison, Y/N currently had Beloved in her grasp reading with the help of the weak solar powered lantern. She looked up when the light grew bigger to see Daryl with a flashlight and entering her cell without saying a word but laying a copy of Little Women on the edge of her bed. He didn’t wait for a ‘thank you’ or anything of the sort as he left after gifting her the book. She carefully set her book open facing down onto the floor before picking up the new one to feel something loose within the pages. She pulled out a note and it wasn’t a love note or anything, just asking her to join them on the run when it’s done raining. She smiled warmly anyway…it came from him.

It didn’t stop raining until three days later and Y/N found herself waiting by the cars with her gear expecting a few others to join but when Daryl came over ready to go looking to be the only one. Which is what he wanted.

“Got everything?”

“Yeah, uh” Y/N felt a bit skittish suddenly when given a moment entirely alone with Daryl. “Is it just us?”

Little did she know she’s spending most of the day with just him. Daryl gripped the strap to his crossbow nodding, a bit nervous himself. “Is that Uhm. Alright? Cuz I can—“

“Of course!” Bit too eager Y/N. Y/N smiles feeling a bit of a blush reach her ears as she carefully brushes her hair to cover them to avoid the obvious. “S-Sorry. It’s cool…just being us”

Now Daryl was the one trying to hide his blush by fully turning around heading toward his bike.

“Oh are we uh. Am I taking a car?”

The blush faded enough for him to look at her with a bit of an annoyed look. He didn’t mean it but it was a stupid question.

“Nah we’re takin’ my bike” He states approaching his bike as Y/N quickly got up from the bench she was waiting on to join him.

It was a little awkward at first when Y/N got on the back of his bike, after putting his crossbow on her back. She was hesitant to bring her arms around him not wanting to make him uncomfortable but Daryl was gentle when he grabbed her arms wrapping them around his torso. He felt her scoot into him being pressed up against him once her arms were secured.

“Ready?”

“Yeah! Uh who’s opening—-“

“We’ve gotcha!” Glenn smiles approaching the gates after making his and Maggie’s presence known to the two. His timing was always perfect.

Then they were off…and it was stunning.

Y/N at first kept a tight grasp when he first started to drive out of the prison. Then as the scenery passed, she loosen her grasp to lean back a little to watch the trees pass by one moment then an open field with few walkers and back to trees. It repeated as such until they were soon passing the big shopping district they were planning a huge run for and then the next being a few smaller ones which where they’ll be going through. Daryl felt her tighten around him when he hit a few bumps as he gently pats her hand to reassure her that he’ll go a bit slower and will always be safe.

An hour has passed and Daryl found himself watching Y/N more than their exit as he couldn’t help but notice the smallest things she’d do.

Being extra gentle when lifting items off the floor

Carrying a smile as she looks at the few pictures from the past

The excitement that shines bright in her eyes when she’d find books or anything that brought her joy

Daryl only snapped out of it when he heard wood give way. He quickly approached the hole finding Y/N had fallen through the second floor to the first.

Shit shit shit shit Daryl quickly ran away from the opening and down to her level pushing away an aisle’s shelving to get to her faster. “You okay?! It looks safe from when we cleared down here”

As the archer knelt to her as she sat up, she gave him a reassuring smile while rubbing her arm. Y/N instantly started to frown which worried Daryl even more.

“Y/N?”

“You’re bleeding” She frowns taking his arm to show him the cut on his person. He was in a hurry to get to her that he didn’t feel it happen. “We should get back…it needs stitches”

“Oh. Nah I don’t need Hershel to—“

“I can take care of it. We just need to go back. You and I can always come back another day” Y/N reassures him that today wasn’t ruined and Daryl couldn’t help but still be focused on what happened to her that she let him check her person after she put a temporary pressure dressing with the bandana he has and once she got up.

The two were quiet for the rest of the ride, given they were both hurt and Daryl felt awful even if it was an unpredictable thing most the time. Then as they sat in her cell later that night, the awkwardness seemed to have dissipated and it was just the silence and a bit of worry…while also taking notice of the small details.

The anxious archer watched how careful she was when stitching up his arm lac. She made sure not to pull too hard and would always double check her already done stitches. Y/N noticed while she was doing the stitches that he started to bite at his thumb. She’s noticed it before during stressful situations and he was doing it now and even when she finished putting the new bandage on.

“Am I good doc?” Daryl laughs nervously as he was about to start back up the habit when Y/N took both of his hands squeezing them. “I’m still sorry about…the floor breaking” he almost whispers as he brought his hand to gently graze the instant bruise she got from the fall.

“You didn’t break it, D”

“I know, sunshine. I’m just…still sorry”

There was that spark again. Bringing back the silence and the two getting a bit more confident with the other. But before either could make a move, Sasha interrupted the two to get Y/N’s assistance with something. Daryl had pulled away from her when she had came into the entry way of her cell.

Y/N gave him a short lived apologetic look before pulling her entire self away and leaving with Sasha. Daryl frowns wishing she didn’t interrupt. When will he get a chance like that again?

Well…

Another storm came through the prison as this one was the worse so far. Heavy rains and lightening. Rick had informed everyone outside when the storm was coming based on the changes in the weather through the day to go inside and chores will be taken care of once it passes.

Daryl had done a sweep inside their cellblock making sure his family was indoors but when he came to Y/N’s cell. He didn’t find her. He quickly ran down the steps about to ask Rick if he has seen her since he was coming back in but instead…

“We don’t have people on watch for the night cuz of the storm but I don’t think Y/N heard me when she’s the last on watch”

“I’ll go get’er” Daryl states not wasting another second but he was grabbed by Rick for another minute. “Yeah?”

“Bring a jacket, man.”

The archer soon found himself running through the rain while protectively holding his poncho. He entered the watchtower back expecting to meet Y/N coming down but when she didn’t, he thought something was up.

But she was simply outside leaning against the railing and watching the rain fall.

“Hey”

Y/N’s smile instantly came out when hearing his voice as she noticed his worried expression while offering his poncho.

“Hey yourself”

“Are you doing okay?” He frowns, feeling only a tad better when she put on his poncho. “You didn’t hear Rick callin’ for those outside to come in before the storm got worse”

“I Uhm. Kinda had a lot on my mind…and didn’t wanna be suffocated” Her smile faltered and it stung in his chest watching such.

“Oh…I can leave if yea need space…just—“

“I want you here” Y/N cuts him off, not wasting another moment like before as she looked away afraid the more she said that she would choke and he’d leave.

But he gently held her chin making her look him in the eye as he brought his hand to her cheek looking her in the eye. Wanting to hear every single word that came from her.

“You want me here?” Daryl felt that spark and it turned into loving warmth when she continued to look up at him trying to find the words but keeping that beautiful smile of hers. “I ain’t good with my words either, sunshine…I…”

“I think I’m falling in love with you, Dixon”

“Good…” He exhales bringing his other hand to cup her other cheek before bringing his lips onto hers. The sudden kiss confirmed his feelings to her but she was still shocked he reciprocated said feelings.

Though when the archer parted, he gave her that loving look in his eyes that she’s been giving him since their moment started. “I’m in love with you, sunshine” and as he was about to go in for another kiss that she already started to lean in for…the flash of lightening and loud thunder that rang with it startled the two. Daryl didn’t hesitate to bring Y/N into his arms as she had already latched onto him the second she heard it.

“Maybe we should’ve confessed inside” Y/N laughs bringing her head to his chest feeling him tighten around her gently.

“Nah. This was perfect”

#cultofdixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #sorry these are taking forever to put out

290 notes · View notes

cloveroctobers · 2 years

Text

RIO/MANNY x black! READER / Summer Prompts !

A/N: y’all seem to like domestic Rio/manny from me and I’m here to deliver with some mess on the side ofc! This was supposed to be out before the fourth but…I was too lazy and unmotivated to write lol but reading some books that are collecting dust in my room inspired me to! Hope you had a fun and safe holiday IF you celebrate lmao. We only celebrate since it’s my big bro’s bday. Anyways!!! This was deeply inspired by all those fireworks gone wrong videos that seem to surface every year! Here’s a cute? Summer prompt. Hope this doesn’t flop like my others ones ✌🏽

WARNINGS: violence, violence, violence! Disability, trauma, mentions of edibles + language — if you’re familiar with my work then this isn’t news to you! 😆 + mentions of the punisher crossover but not overly important!

Song playing in the background while written if you’re wondering or not—it’s fine—

#11. Fireworks from this prompt list here.

~•~*~•~*~•~*~•~*~•~*~•~*~•~*~•~*~•~•~*~•~*~•

To cope with the fact that you almost lost the love of your life, you went out and bought a boat.

“Mama, what’s this charge on the joint account?” Manny scratched at his buzzed hair, looking at you underneath his lengthy eyelashes as he sat at the dining table.

You hummed as you placed your sleepy daughter, Emmanuelle, “Emmy,” into your husband’s lap. With ease he wrapped a arm around her entire waist as the 3C girl relaxed into her father’s chest, not talking his ear off this evening.

Plopping down in the chair next to them with your glass of Sauvignon Blanc, you slid the bank statement closer to your line of vision since you took your contacts out for the night. Your eyes scanned over the numbers from last month, resulting in you lifting your shoulders, nonchalant.

“Yes, that’s the boat I bought this summer for us to take out on the lake.”

Manny twitched his bottom lip to the side, slightly biting down on it as he deeply inhaled, “…we ain’t discuss that. Anything that’s coming out of our shared account is usually discussed and I’ve got a fantastic memory so…run that by me again.”

Raising your brows you huffed out a laugh, “oh yeah? How about when you spend thousands on toys for your baby girl?”

“I enjoy spoilin’ my girls, sue me.”

“And I enjoy retail therapy.” You challenged, raising your glass as you swallowed the rest of your wine before getting to your feet, “it’s your turn for night time duty with Emmy, i don’t think she’ll give you too much of a hard time tonight.”

Standing up, you leaned forward to place a kiss on top of Emmy’s almond scented thick hair and walked off with Manny watching you leave.

“Yeah, at least somebody won’t.” Manny muttered, as he lightly began to bounce the four year old on his lap.

Manny should have known that this was going to be hard for you. No matter how hard you tried to downplay the situation. You weren’t a stranger to the dark side, mostly everybody on your fathers side was part of the one-niners and although they tried to not include you in the stigma, you ended up with someone who was simply on the other side.

The wrong side.

The two of you been married since twenty-one and twenty-two and dealing with each other for much longer (17-18)…minus the times you broke up. There was no escaping what you had and what Manny was involved in. Usually people tended to keep you out of it all but it was almost next to impossible considering who you surrounded yourself with. You weren’t completely innocent, you learned at a young age with your dad and uncles in and out of prison and what small jobs were asked of you. This was the real time you had to get your hands dirty, when it became knowledge that the sons put a hit out on the Mayans.

All of the Mayans, including the Yuma Charter.

It was that gnawing at your gut that got you involved. When you haven’t heard from Manny and with the recent death of Canche, you did not have a good feeling. So with a quick call to your girls (real girl gang shit!) and cousins, you rode out for your man.

That was the first time you committed a crime or what you considered a real crime: homicide and everyone expected you to be shell shocked, much like you were in those brief moments you put Issac down on his got damn knees.

Not in the way that he wanted, that’s for sure.

“Y/N.”

Humming on your side now in bed, you didn’t bother to turn to Manny who rested beside you.

“Are we gonna have a honest conversation about you purchasing that big ass boat that’s sitting in the front yard?”

Keeping your eyes closed you continued resting on your hands, “What’s there to talk about? I bought it for us but if you don’t want to use it, I can always take the girls.”

“So you can throw ass at some horny college boys passing by?” You could tell Manny was shaking his head, “absolutely not. I know how y’all get with Julio in your system—it’s not even about the boat, it’s your mental behind that.”

“I always wanted a boat, I saw it, wanted it aaand,” You sung, “I got it. Next time I’ll purchase it from my account but it’s a family gift…so I didn’t see the big deal.”

Next time?

It was Manny’s turn to raise his brows.

“You know baby girl might be traumatized being in a big body of water like that.” He spoke.

That’s when you turned slightly to face him in the dim room. It happened last summer on a lake house trip in upstate New York, Emmy was in the water with your mother on a floaty. There was another boat close by with some college students on water ski’s. Somehow Emmy got away from your mother, ended outside of her floaty and under the water where her arm got caught in their blade. Your daughter almost lost her entire arm and that was probably one of the most scariest moments of your life.

Of course you took that into consideration, what kind of mother would you be if you didn’t? When you were growing up you were hardly a water person but your mother forced you along with your siblings to like it. Your father wasn’t much of a water person either but he preferred the lake over the beach any day.

“She might,” you answered, “but she’s gradually getting familiar with the water again after she received her prosthetic. We’ll have her safe in the kiddie pool. Not the lake. We all unfortunately get exposed to things we don’t want to, doesn’t mean we have to live in fear over it.”

Manny tilted his head at you, lightly damping his lips. “Mama. I understand where you’re comin’ from but we agreed we weren’t gonna do that, raise our kids how our parents did us.”

“Have you met your child, Manuel?” You stared hard at the man you usually adored but was on your nerves tonight, “she’s ambitious, quick on her feet, and will do whatever she wants when she wants, just like you.”

Manny rubbed at his mouth in thought. The last part sounded more like you but he wasn’t about to argue that, not tonight. It was evident you weren’t keen on explaining yourself fully to him, he figured that was only a conversation you wanted to have with your therapist. Manny meant to run up on the therapist after he left the club the other night but given that he was at war with the sons, he had to make sure he was coming straight home to you and Emmy. He wasn’t sure if the sons knew what you did but he was positive this would be a everlasting war, since more of their own were dropping like flies.

However that meant getting the one-niners involved since you were technically part of them. Manny made it his job now to inform the rest of the charters but it was to his surprise to learn Ezekiel Reyes now sat in the president’s chair. That was a problem for another day but right now his focus was on you.

“You know you can talk to me, right?” He pressed the side of his head into the crease of his shoulder.

Manny watched as your body seemed to release some of the tension in it. You smacked the back of your hand against his face, making him grab your hand to nip at your fingers.

“Duh, we’re in this for life dummy. I just don’t want to be vulnerable around you right now, want to focus on the positive and moving forward. Is that too much to ask for?”

Manny could respect that. When you were growing up you were much more sensitive when he first met you, he found that shit cute and poked fun at you, cooing, “sweetheart!” Whenever he greeted you. Life has a way of changing you either for the better or the worse, manny was still unsure where you fell on that line; especially now that he put you in the position to save him from being burned alive.

He lifted his thin frame off the bed to slide in beside you as you rolled back onto your side. He entangled himself with you, cuddling you like you were his damn pregnancy pillow, smushing his face against the side of yours.

Sliding a bit against your champagne colored silk scarf you laughed as he clicked his tongue in irritation. It was his own fault for having dewey skin and thinking he could just rest comfortably against your scarf like that. He knew what the deal was so he shouldn’t be acting brand new.

Once he was comfortable fidgeting his face around, he let out a small sigh as he squeezed you tight against him.

“Aight focusing on the positive, got it.” He responded after awhile, “want to hear something that I know that you don’t?”

“Um…”

“Your moms planned a gathering here at the spot for the fourth. Called me about it and said she’s tired of having it at her place and that it was time for us to host, her words: we had a big enough break since Christmas.” Manny stated making your eyes snap open.

He wouldn’t allow you to turn and face him with how snug he had you in his arms though.

“How the hell is that positive? Basically she just told you what the fuck she’s gonna do? Not ask?! The fourth is three days away, we don’t have enough time to plan for that shit! You have shit going on at the club, I’m frequently at therapy now while still managing a boutique, on top of that with a hyperactive four year old—I don’t even like having people in our house and she knows that.” You grumbled.

Manny laughed, “and you said baby girl gets doing what she wants when she wants from me? Yeah aight. That’s all your side.”

If your arms weren’t locked in Manny’s arms right now, you’d elbow the shit out of his ribs.

“Don’t stress, we always make it work don’t we? Just relax and try to get some sleep, I’m right here.” His smooth voice provided you the comfort you needed as the night shined on.

★彡ミ☆ ★彡ミ☆ ★彡ミ☆ ★彡ミ☆ ★彡ミ☆

The night sky began to burn in navy blue with specs of pearls that waved hello. The cookout seemed to fly by pretty quickly despite the stress your mother placed on you. She always had these bright ideas but at least she was here to help out with setting up and making sure the food was right. With everything going on you wanted to cater but your mother wasn’t having that…which meant more work. It was almost as if this was thanksgiving and Christmas all over again with how much dedication she put into it all. If showing up at nine in the morning didn’t speak for your mother, then there wasn’t much more you could say to convince anyone else.

“Your mother means well,” your father would always excuse—until she pissed him off that is.

So you had his voice in the back of your head whenever she ticked you off throughout the day. Once the woman had a edible mid-afternoon she calmed her boisterous attitude down for awhile until one of your best friend’s, Cherish requested the DJ—her on and off again boyfriend to play one of Chris Brown’s tracks from his new album, that your mother came down from her high. It was already a sight to see your mother act a fool to Al Green but it was a whole other thing once she heard Chris Brown.

True embarrassment was felt even when your no good friends and cousins hyped her up. You been seen enough, keeping your distance across the yard as you mingled with a few old friends that came up from NYC: Frank, Karen, Billy, David and his wife, Sarah. Manny wasn’t that found of the three men, especially David but he kept it cordial as you did the same with Ezekiel and Angel Reyes.

You weren’t sure what Manny was thinking by allowing not only the brothers but the rest here at your home, your supposed safe haven. They maybe working together and Manny was still holding onto the benefit of the doubt when it came to EZ but you knew Manny was smarter than what he was playing at.

It was hard for you to hide your emotions when you didn’t fuck with people, so you didn’t hold your tongue when your husband introduced you. You found Angel big headed (literally) and annoying much like your late friend, Johnny Cruz told you he was. He was basically a man-child and you heard the gossip from other women who were friends of your girl-friends how he couldn’t get his shit together. You knew men like him, shit, you fucked men just like him in college when you and manny weren’t together. So to have him standing here in your home simply annoyed you. It was projection sure but you couldn’t really help that.

Ezekiel on the other hand had this arrogance about him. You only heard some of the chatter the Yuma charter would say once they all became acquainted and it was clear they didn’t fuck with their side. However Manny was one to always look at situations from all perspectives…which was odd to you since he made it clear he would kill and die for your child. EZ seemed to be analyzing you as much as you were him, although he had such a charming smile, you saw darkness in those honey wooded eyes.

So you kept your distance from most of the Mayans, mostly speaking to Marcus, his family, and what was left of the Yuma Charter, if you weren’t speaking to your own.

The night was running as decent as could be until a pop ripped through the air. It seemed as if you almost stopped breathing, your head searching for the cause of the sound as smoke flew into the air; before multiple pops ripped in the sky; forming colors.

“Now who the hell?” You heard one of your friends ask.

You heard manny call out, “yo, primo Jamal! This what we doing? Give me a signal next time, man.”

You noticed all of the clubs holding onto their straps.

Your cousin, Jamal, grinned from his spot from the side of the house, “just had to make sure these old things still work my guy!”

“Okay, nobody told you to do that tho.” You called out, eyes in slits.

He kissed his teeth, “everybody else startin’, we can’t go out like some punks! Gotta show ‘em what we got!”

“I’m with Jamal!” Angel agreed, beer bottle held up in the air.

Your glare was now on the taller bearded man across the yard and Manny held his hands out to you, telling you he would handle it. He motioned to the DJ to keep the music going as he waved the Mayans from both charters to follow him to a few of your cousins that huddled together. Shaking your head you inhaled air through your smile as you turned back to the conversation you were sharing with your amused sibling.

What happened next may or may not be triggering. With the music down, the smell of charcoal still lingering in the air, stomach’s full, and gentle night breeze swirling around, most gathered around to watch the fireworks decorate the sky. You could hear in the distance other fireworks going off and what seemed like a nice way to end the night, quickly turned into another nightmare you didn’t need.

The first and second round of works were cool, pretty even but as the third was starting you found that you wanted to be under your man’s arm with your daughter clinging onto either of you. You quickly became bored with the continuous popping and began to move through the yard as everyone watched in awe or brought their phones out for keepsake. As you were making your way through the yard, you had that feeling in your stomach again, making you pause.

A garbage can was smoking on the opposite side; away from where mostly everyone was gathered. Before you could pry your lips apart, the garbage can lifted from its side into the air with the deafening sound of a BOOM that shook the ground. You flinched, watching in horror as your backyard filled with smoke, sparks flying rapidly and shooting towards the windows of your home.

You were sure you would need window replacements now.

“Y/N!” You heard Manny yell over the screams of your running guests.

The can began to spin at the impact once it fell back to the ground, spitting out more fireworks towards any and everybody. You spotted your cousin Jamal laying on the ground now, a great distance from the garbage can.

Before you could make your way over to his stupid ass, the smoke began to make your eyes burn as more fireworks went off from all areas of the backyard now. You felt a hand grip your wrist and yank you through the smoke and away from possible damage.

You panted as you now stood in the street, slightly choking as you used one hand to hold onto one of your thighs. Rubbing your eyes you faced Manny’s who watched you in concern while he held onto Emmy, who clung to his neck.

“You okay, mama?”

The sound of the mini explosions made your heart pound. Using the back of your arm you wiped the sweat that began to form at your forehead and shakily gathered your hair up to air your kitchen out. Swallowing, you folded your fingers into your palms silently motioning for your child who easily gripped onto you, swinging her legs around your hips.

“If Jamal isn’t dead, I’m gonna kill him.” You gritted.

You hugged Emmy who giggled against your neck, “mommy, that was fun!”

Fun? It was time for her to go to bed, for real.

You snapped your head back at Emmy who giggled up at you and you shook your head as you placed her head against your chest. You mouthed to Manny who bit back a smile, “thats your crazy child.”

The lanky tattooed man leaned towards you, pressing a hand into your shoulder as he pressed a kiss to your temple. “You’re alright. We’re alright. Right? Everybody okay?!” He turned to the guests that stood in the street.

“Hell nawl!”

“I think I done shitted on my Versace.”

“Yes.”

“Yeah.”

“What a party!”

“I guess.”

“Do we look alright to you, homie?”

“The hell was that?!” A few of the Mayans echoed after the short troll doll looking one, you think Manny said his name was Bishop, exclaimed.

You noticed Ezekiel nodding his head for Manny to head his way and it was your turn to grip his wrist. Immediately he faced you, his eyes soft but questioning before his mouth did.

“If anybody is truly hurt, and I hope to God they aren’t. they’ll think this is the son’s doing but if it turns out to be the Reyes brother’s…this is going to be a real fucking,” you whispered the swear knowing you had your daughter in your arms, “problem, I promise you.”

Manny searched your eyes, noticing the major shift in you since you had his back weeks ago.

“I know, y/n. I hope that’s not the case, for their sake. I got us, always.” He pulled the both of you into a long embrace.

Boldly you responded, “me too.”

You pulled back, peering up into his eyes to let him know you meant that, in which he pulled his bottom lip into his mouth and dipped his head at you, squeezing your shoulders, he leaned forward to peck your lips quickly before spinning on his heels to handle business, as usual.

~•~*~•~*~•~*~•~*~•~*~•~*~•~*~•~*~•~•~*~•~*~•

Continue along with summer anthology prompts here.

#Spotify #good girls nbc #rio x black!reader #mayans mc fx #mayans mc x reader #manny mayans x reader #manny montana #the punisher #ez reyes #Angel Reyes #marcus alvarez #bishop losa #johnny cruz #Johnny coco cruz #coco cruz

317 notes · View notes

notegodeath · 1 year

Note

do you have any tips for boosting word count in a meaningful way? i feel kind of sad when i write a 3k that'd take a few weeks (if i'm lucky) then see someone's output on ao3 be more consistent and with more count to boot. qq

i think obviously the biggest piece of advice i should give is not to care. in an ideal world, it doesn’t matter if someone writes faster, or more words than you, everyone goes at their own pace, and does what they can, and yada yada etc etc. that doesn’t really work in practice, and i know it, so if you wanna write longer, and write faster i do have a few tips that can help. (and ofc all of these pertain to my style and my experiences, and someone else would prob have different opinions)

1 one of the best ways to bolster your word count, and one of the things i see most constantly overlooked in a lot of fics is a character’s thoughts. actions and dialogue are good for keeping the plot moving, they’re helpful, everybody loves them, but what really fascinates me is the why those actions and dialogues are happening. maybe it’s the theatre kid in me, but one of the things i always start with once i have a plot is character motivations, and how they feel, and react to everything happening internally as well as externally, and by working through those processes on paper it can both make your fics longer, and make your characters feel more three dimensional

2 on that same note, having an actual outline can really help too. a lot of the time, i just kinda wing it, i won’t lie, but even in my head there’s some sort of outline of what’s going on, and the times when ive transferred that to paper have been, in my opinion, some of my best works (and my longest, too). if you know what’s happening in a story before it happens, you can more purposefully control things like pacing, as well as include foreshadowing if you’d like, and it provides more room to think about why things are happening, rather than the fact that they just kind of are, and this depth of understanding allows you to better flesh out your works

3 this one is gonna seem really obvious in theory, but in practice it might not be, at least for me. one of the best things you can do is just read. read, and read some more, and, you guessed it, fucking read some more. read works of characters you like, to get ideas on how you want to portray them, read works on characters you don’t like, so you know what you don’t want to do, read works that have nothing at fucking all to do with what your writing because i guarantee you that you’ll find some kind of inspiration in them. also, read actual fucking books. don’t just read fanfiction, read real life, published books, by authors who do this for a living. that doesn’t mean you have to just read grimy classics that’ll make you fall asleep, there’s a lot of new books being published all the time and some of them are very good, but read something original, with substance, and that you’ll enjoy. my friends and i have a book club where we pick out a book each month, read it, and then we meet up and discuss it, this month we’re reading jurassic park, which obviously isn’t shakespeare, so just read something that isn’t fanfiction sometimes (and if you can, talk about it with someone)

4 this’ll be my last one i promise, but something i feel like mentioning is that it’s important to remember that everyone is different, be it in circumstance, motivation, free time, abilities, etc. not everyone can write like someone else, but guess what? that’s fine! chances are, that author that’s cranking out fics on ao3 either has a lot of free time, and that’s what they like to do with it, or that’s what they do to destress, and so they do it a lot. to this end, and this goes for all artistic pursuits, be it music, writing, visual arts, performance arts, etc, you don’t need to compare yourself to others. you want to, and it’s impossible not to, but at the end of the day you’re you, and they’re them, and you’re different people with different perspectives, abilities, and lives. it can be good to find motivation in other people’s works, i do that a lot, but letting it turn into a sort of negativity hinders more than it helps, i promise (also, they prob have more experience than you, whether you can see that experience or not, so just write more, it’ll come to you i promise)

#ego talks #writing tips

3 notes · View notes

dailyaudiobible · 1 year

Text

2/27/2023 DAB Transcript

Leviticus 20:22-22:16, Mark 9:1-29, Psalm 43:1-5, Proverbs 10:18

Today is the 27th day of February, welcome to the Daily Audio Bible. I am Brian and it is a joy to be here with you today, as we gather around the Global Campfire, take the next step forward together, and just enjoy the peace and serenity of the Global Campfire. This place that we come every day, that is a place of peace, a place for us to center ourselves in the Scriptures and allow the Holy Spirit to lead and guide us and sounds great to be here in this space with you today, to take the next step forward. And that will lead us back into the book of Leviticus. Today, we will read chapter 20 verse 22 through chapter 22 verse 16.

Commentary:

So, let’s just hang out t in Proverbs for a second. One sentence, whoever conceals hatred with lying lips and spreads slander is a fool. Let's just think about that person that's in our life, maybe at church, maybe at work, who knows where, that we just can’t stand. Just can't. They say offensive things all the time. Maybe we've been offended, maybe they just something that's not true about us. We just avoid them. But it’s not really just avoidance, we use, we strike back covertly. Maybe they said something at some point and it's just stuck and we get still burning inside of us, we’re still mad about it. Everybody has experiences like this from time to time. It's just how do we deal like, what do we do with that. Cause a lot of times when there's an offense, it gets stuck inside of us. We keep thinking about it. We keep reliving the moment. We can find ourselves more angry later on than we ever were in the moment, we just keep replaying it over and over. So, anytime that person comes up in conversation or whatever, we’re pulled back into that and you don’t have anything good to say. And maybe just to kind of even the scales, at least in our own minds and hearts, we go to our friends and tell the whole story about that person, we gossip about them, tear them down. We call them into question, we call their character into question, we call their family and we call whatever we can into question. And you know we have to actually be in that person's presence, and we just fake it, like there's nothing wrong. Like that's not, like just saying it, we know that's not healthy, we just do these kinds of things. The Proverb says whoever conceals hatred with lying lips and spreads slander is a fool. What that one sentence does is force us to consider our thoughts, words and deeds toward this person. Does the gossip and slander about this person take any less energy than just going to the person, even if there isn't reconciliation, to just call things into the light and move toward peace with one another. Like, is all of the covert things that we might do to even the scales and diminish this other person, take less energy and does it bring us more wholeness? And we might approach this person, who may be not responsive in any sort of way. And so, us just approaching them and holding out an olive branch and saying man we have gotten sideways, and I feel like we could actually work better together. Maybe that doesn't work, maybe the person doesn't want anything to do with you at this point. But moving in that direction is a better choice than being a liar and a fool. And I get it, people are complicated, we're complicated, and things go sideways all of the time, and we have all kinds little offenses that we can deal with. But what if we didn't though, what if we didn't, what would life be like if we weren’t carrying all of that around. So, this Proverb can actually step right up to us, look us in the eyes and we may not like what it's suggesting and now we have to think about all this stuff. But the Proverbs aren’t here for condemnation purposes, they’re here to cut through, to cut through the fog, to give clarity, to bring truth and now we have heard it. And now we should wrestle with it in our lives. We don't have to listen to the wisdom of the Proverbs. We can ignore it. But what if we heeded it. So many of these times in the Bible steps right up to us and says something we have to ask ourselves, even if we don't like the changes that it might suggest that we need to make inside of our hearts. Like, what's the downside? That we may have to be more humble, that we might have to be more long-suffering in order to put what is broken back together and do the work of God in this world. Because the flipside is that we have to be more arrogant and more dishonest, that we have to make a fool of ourselves, according to the Proverbs. So, what's the downside of paying attention to what Proverbs is saying and incorporating it into our lives and in our relationships. Because what the Proverbs is…is telling us is that our re-actions to things can make a fool out of us and a liar out of us. So, let's give it some thought. Today we might even catch ourselves moving in that direction and maybe we stop ourselves because there's no downside to putting what's broken back together. This is the work of God.

Prayer:

And so, Father, we invite You into that interpersonal relationships at work, at church, at home everywhere we go. Everybody's got their stuff, we all have our brokenness, we all have our stories and some of them have been very difficult stories indeed. So, we find ourselves reacting to all kinds of things, in all kinds of ways. You are inviting us through the voice of wisdom here, to take a beat. And if we do this, and we begin to do this repeatedly, like we don't just react, we don't just follow the old path, we take a moment and think about what is actually going on. Inviting Your Holy Spirit, so that we might humble ourselves, so that we might actually be Your ambassadors in this world. So much can change with such little repentances, with such little changes. So much of life can change with just a little changes. Help us to make these, show us how, help us to not react, may our reactions be to turn to You and seek You, as we move forward. We pray this in the precious name of Jesus who modeled this for us, so that we have a picture of what this looks like in the Gospels, make us like You, make us whole. We pray in Jesus name. Amen.

Announcements:

dailyaudiobible.com is home base and that is where you can find out what is going on around here and the Daily Audio Bible app does that as well. You can download that free from the App Store that works with your device. So, check that out. Check out the Community Section. This is where different links to be connected on the different social media channels that we participate on are and it is also the home of the Prayer Wall, which is always there for us. We can always go there and ask for prayer, middle of the night, middle of the morning doesn't matter, regardless of what continent you are on, no matter what's going on. We can ask for prayer and receive encouragement from brothers and sisters around the world. So certainly, check out the Prayer Wall.

If you want to partner with the Daily Audio Bible. Thank you, humbly, we wouldn't be around the Global Campfire if we weren't around it together, and so thank you deeply. There is a link on the homepage at dailyaudiobible.com. If you're using the app, you can press the Give button in the upper right-hand corner or the mailing address is P.O. Box 1996 Springhill, Tennessee 37174.

And as always, if you have a prayer request or encouragement, you can hit the Hotline button in the app, that's the little red button up at the top or you can dial 877-942-4253.

And that's it for today, I'm Brian, I love you and I'll be waiting for you here, tomorrow.

Prayer and Encouragements:

Hello, this is Z1 praying for Junk to Treasure. We hear you sister. My grandma, God’s Chosen, wants me to pray for your requests. So, that’s what I’m here to do. Junk to Treasure, I am praying for God’s hand of support for Junk to, for you during these difficult situations. You are her refuge and strength, God, her present help in trouble. Hold her hand and do not let her fall. Life, here on earth, is filled with trials and tribulation. Let Your grace be upon her during the trials of anguish. 1 Peter 1 verse 3-4, 2 Corinthians verse 4 through 17. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that outweighs them all. An eternity with the Lord, we will know no longer have to fear hard times, because everything will be made perfect. I pray God gives you strength during this season, send plenty of help to help you grow closer to God and His Holy word. Amen. Don’t worry, we all hear you, we’re all praying for you. And when you are sad, we are sad in our hearts because we love you. You’re a part of our family and we’ve got your back. So, thank you for listening to this prayer and I hope this has lifted your spirits. And this is not of me, but it is of God and God will give you the strength you need to overcome these tough times. And He will bring these tough times to an end with His sword of justice. All in good time. God’s plan is for you. God has got a good plan for you. God knows where your life will go to. So, keep it up. Good work sister. We love you. Thank you. Bye.

Hi, everyone. I just wanted to quick, come on here and ask for prayer. Kind of reluctantly, I don’t know why. But I guess I’ve just been in this long season of discouragement. Just mental health diagnosis in the last three years, PTSD and bipolar and no very stable. I’ve been on long-term disability through my previous job. It’s been a year and a half now and that disability will be up in October. I thought it was gonna be a little longer. But, honestly, I have struggled my entire adult life to work full-time for you know, any, sustainable length of time. And I’m really, really anxious and nervous and just fearful and I know the enemy is the one trying to discourage me. I know the Holy Spirit’s giving me discernment about that. And I just have this sense that the Lord wants to use my story one day, that, you know, He wants to be glorified in this. That He’s got some kind of plan that’s way bigger me but I don’t understand right now. I’m just really anxious. I just feel like I’m up against impossible odds, right now, financially. Like, there’s always just enough. He’s so good, He always provides. I have so many blessings. I have a degree and I managed to get it and a career that I love, eventually, I hope. That I’ve been doing on and off before I got really unwell. And I just really need prayer. I know He’s building me up in this season, showing me the warrior I am in Him and building my trust with him. But my strength is just failing, every day, and the enemy is relentless. So, encouragement would really be appreciated and prayer.

Good morning, Daily Audio Bible Family. I’m calling in for prayers for my life. I’ve been wanting to set it down, but it has really been challenging because I’ve been in a relationship, but things are not working. I am thinking of moving on. It hurts that I would give in this much and nothing comes out of it. I do not know if it’s my perception towards marriage. Cause I haven’t had this pleasure of a family, you know. In Africa, when you’re both 30 and you have a good job, you, the pleasure of the family to see you settle down becomes really, really high. And I’ve not really been getting an easy with family. So, I want to use this Lent period to really focus on my relationship with God and while I’m doing that, I was the one, my Daily Audio Bible family to put me in their prayers. I would love to encounter someone who values me as much as I value her. Who would choose to compromise as much as I would choose to compromise or maybe less. I just want to be in a relationship with someone who understands me. Because I believe if that relationship is to last, we all have compromises that we should make. So, put me in your prayers as we go through it. And I’m hoping to come back here with a testimony. Probably sometime. Thank you Daily Audio Bible.

Morning, Good Afternoon, Good Evening, Daily Audio Bible Family. This is Matthew from the United Kingdom. Today is the 22nd of February 2023 and beginning of Lent. And this is the period when one would come and think about our life and repent of our sins. I sometimes pray for brothers and sisters whose problems are presented on this platform. Thank you Brian Hardin for all that you do, for this, for the Holy Spirit to flow in this platform. This morning, or whatever it is, whatever time it is, wherever you are, let us lift up our brother team. Before his throne of grace and mercy, and ask for more of his mercy in the life of team. Team, today is the day that begins repentance. Team has repented before you and for that ___, asking for restoration. For that, I stand with team, and ask you Lord, for restoration for team. Asking You, Lord, that You cleanse team from all unrighteousness, oh God. Lord, that You would restore team, full unto You and restore his ministry back to him. In the name of Jesus. Father, if we say have no sin, that the truth is not in us, for all of us have sinned and have fallen short of your glory. You said, if we confess our sins, that You are faithful and just to forgive us our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness.

Hi DAB family, my name is Evelynn, I’m calling from Berlin. Good afternoon, yeah, about two months ago, I called for prayers for my mom, who was going through stage 4 breast cancer. Today, makes one month exactly that she passed. She went to be with the Lord. Yeah, it’s been hard, it’s been hard without her. Especially for my dad. I can hear the pain, I can see the pain in his eyes. First there girls, three girls, it’s, it’s, it’s just been hard. So, I’m calling for prayers that you stand in the gap, you pray alongside with us, as we get through this process of trying to figure things out. You know, and yeah, I’m also asking for prayers over my mind, over the spirit of fear, anxiety and worry. That’s, you know, having a family member go through such, is kind of hard. So, yeah, heavenly Father, I ask that You’d stand by everyone who is going through loss, who is going through a grieving process. I ask Lord Jesus, that You stand by us, that You support us, that we feel Your love, Your support, Your embrace around us during these trying times. In Jesus name. Amen. Thank you so much. Bye.

2 notes · View notes

onyxoverride · 3 years

Text

Camellias at Sundown

Miche Zacharius x Reader

◙warnings: forbbiden love, mutual pining, happy ending, some angst (familial death + longing,) soft smut minors dni (18+), cunnilingus + stockings, fingering + mirror, then finally sensual sex, Erwin x Levi mentioned.

◙word count: 8k

◙summary: Miche Zacharius has a duty as the only son to the rich Zacharius family to play out his role as the future lord of the estate. But he’s been in love with the you, the gardener of the estate ever since he was young and with inhibitions lessened, he pursues you.

◙note: thank you so much @lady-lunaaa for beta-ing this I appreciate you endlessly to the moon and back. This is for Rias 3k Richboy Collab!! @bakugohoex thank you for letting me participate! I am also doing Yuji which is here: Sweet Secrets. Please support everybody else's fic as well thank you for reading I hope you enjoy!!! I think this may be my favorite thing I've written so far :0

Miche Zacharius has seen the inner workings of his own gilded cage since he was young. Each bar engraved with different obligations — to his family, to his standing in society, to everyone around him except the person he wants most.

When he saw you, it was when you were not old enough to work properly. Playing with the trimming of hedges your mother snipped while he was studying Latin and Italian with a ruler smacked against his wrists every time you caught his eye. To say the least, he had a lot of bruises.

When he and his friends, that he had to make through his position as a rich man’s son, sat outside his eyes would always go to you. Snipping away at the extensions of blushing flowers, some crimson, others an innocent white but all smelling just as sweet. A mixture of jasmine and citrus, subtle but still sweet. This is when his friend Hanji would nudge him, push him towards you in a childlike fashion. The only time where they could truly represent their age. Erwin would chuckle behind a teacup while throwing a glance at his young raven-haired butler, sharing an amused subdued smile. And while his mentors and his nanny weren’t looking he would sneak to you, as quiet as he could almost as if he’d scare you but he is simply too large, even as a child. Making sure his eyebrows aren’t drawn because apparently he looks intimidating like that before getting your attention with a cough (he can hear Hanji laughing behind him at his behavior.)

“Uhm…” his foot is tapping the grass behind his heel while he rubs the back of his neck. Too focused on how he presented himself to you to think of what he should say until he catches the sight of the flowers in your hands, calloused and overworked from the daily work.

“The flowers- uh- what are they?” grimacing at his own words, scolding himself because seriously? They’re obviously fucking flowers you just said it Miche-

Your laugh cuts his thoughts off. Gentle and subdued after years of learning how to be quiet around the people you serve, “they’re camellia’s,” you grasp the blossom of one of the pink flowers and offer it to him.

“Oh,” flower set into the plain of his hand makes it seem smaller than it truly is, blushing against his hand and his face just as pink, “well, they’re very pretty…”

“I’m glad you think so, young lord,” and it all comes reeling back, tethering him to reality once again as you try to continue your duty. You spare one last glance, hoping your mother doesn’t see how wanting it looks.

His tailored suit feeling all too tight as he walks back to his friends, they’re teasing him. Tugging at his shirt while he gives a faux laugh to appease them. He keeps watching, attention torn between the small flower he delicately holds, sweet smell seeping into the lines of his hands, and you. You, who keeps working as quietly as you can, trimming out the weaker flowers so the strong will shine through.

That night he presses a flower into his favorite book and hopes the smell never fades, nor this memory.

■

Instead of asking Nanny for stories or a snack before bed, he’d ask about you. Words travel as quick as fire amongst gossips and as good-natured as the woman who raised him is, she still finds entertainment in running her mouth and knowing too much. So, she’d tell him everything, and often. About how your father passed when you were young like his mother did, how your mother raised you in the small gardener’s house with a small bedroom shared between the two of you. About how your father and mother were the best gardeners they’ve ever had and you were developing your skills even quicker than them, like all of you had a sixth sense for nature. About how you don’t even know how to make or pour proper tea like most of the servants but survive through your skill, hands tracing vines, and keeping track of the tastiest fruit to share with the estate when the grapefruit and lemons bloom and ripen. About how on your eighteenth summer, only a few years ago, your mother passed and you now live alone in the gardener’s house. Even if he has heard it over and over again, he’d tug Nanny’s dress and wait for her to tell her more. Including the mundane about how you trip over yourself too often to count when you enter the house. As quick as fire — you’d hear about it from some other servant that joined you for dinner. Trying to hide heated cheeks and covering your face with the bread you eat. You’d say nothing for the time being, not wanting to drag him further down into a possible affair that would ruin you and him if he continued to pursue this childish crush. But each and every servant, especially the older ones, found it so endearing and just a bit as worrying. They still orchestrated to have you around even just a bit more so he would have more stories to listen to, and you’d slip out little facts about yourself knowing Miche would in the end hear those words. If not from your mouth, at least from someones.

■

Often Miche wonders why he was born at his stature. Not height, though it does become worrying when everybody shies away from him because of how tall he looms. His class stature. Money rolling off of everything he owns simply because of his blood and how he comes from a line of skilled detectives with a superior sense of smell that makes their job seem like child play. It’s not like he wants to spend his life sending you longing looks. The few times you’ve interacted carved into his mind, waiting for the time he doesn’t need to engrave and savor. They are few and far between with barely anything shared besides conversation and gentle innocent touches, loving looks with no words to address them.

Even when his father became ill, he sought you out before anybody else. You know how he longs for you, pulling at your heartstrings every time you catch his gaze. The first time he’s become vulnerable for anybody is when he caught your arm, late at night in the kitchens after arranging some citrus arrangements for his sick father. He’s silent at first, only a small huff through his nose while his hair covers his eyes. He doesn’t like his father, they never cared for each other particularly. It’s as if he barely knows the man, which may be the part that hurts his heart the most.

“Young lord-”

“No-” he sighs, fingers trailing around your wrists, “just Miche. For you, please, just Miche.”

Not once has he ever broken his tough demeanor, carefully crafted from a young age due to his upbringing, but now it’s crumbling even just a bit.

“M-Miche,” it feels unfamiliar but not unwelcome on your tongue, you can see how his muscles unravel at the sound of your voice. You have craved his touch and attention and now that it is night, inhibitions are lessened and comforted by the blanket of stars and quiet household, maybe accepting it isn’t too bad now. Hands gentle around his, realizing just how big they are in comparison to yours makes him huff in amusement. You can tell he doesn’t wish to talk about what plagues his mind, it’s not quite your business to ask either but you bring his hand up to your lips. Not kissing, just grazing over the writing callouses he’s developed and over the flushed joints. He leans forward, pressing you gently against the counter as he pulls his hand away from you. For a moment you’re worried you have overstepped your boundaries, misinterpreted something, but he presses your hands into his face. He looks so much more mature now than from when he stuttered to talk to you as a child. Eyebrows finally relaxed even just a bit from the forever intimidating scowl he wears, eyes closed and savoring your eternally calloused and injured hands running over his scruff. The sweetness from the flowers permeates your skin and the citrus you handled earlier slightly sours the scent. Nonetheless, it comforts him. Your warmth, your scent, and your gaze settled on him. He won’t lie and say he doesn’t like being the only one you’re looking at even if just for a moment. The curse of selfishness love brings upon an individual is unusual to him, you would think by now he would have gotten used to the sting that courses through his gut whenever he realizes over and over again that you are not his, and he is not yours.

Silence extending to the two of you before he presses a kiss into your knuckles, “you should come into the estate more often.”

“Inside would be strange for someone who takes care of plants,” you say, amused with how childlike he sounds despite his deep voice.

“There are plants inside.”

“The maids take care of them,” you caress a thumb over his lips as he sighs, “but I suppose arranging more vases wouldn’t be so bad.”

You cave all too easily for his puppy-dog eyes and the adoration hidden behind his words. But this is all you two can afford. Stolen touches and soft beginnings, hand pressed into his chest with a small kiss into his knuckles and both of you are ripped away from each other once again.

His gilded cage feels too tight.

■

At first, Erwin thought it was just a young man’s infatuation with another person his age. A young and childish crush on a pretty girl that smelled like flowers but gradually as they got older, the others of his social group realized it was much more.

Miche contemplates the scenes outside too sorrowfully for a man who is not mourning. It’s easy to see he’s trying to look for something or perhaps someone. Erwin caught on early why he gazes so strangely outside the window and how Miche twirls flowers between his fingers whenever there’s a vase of them around, fingers trailing along petals and putting them back trying to make the arrangement look undefiled.

For a skilled consultant detective, he leaves a horribly obvious trail.

“From what I know, you’re not supposed to be pursuing a servant,” a chess table sits between them, untouched for a moment for the sake of tea.

“You have no room to talk, Erwin,” he cuts a glance to Levi standing quietly until he scoffs at the insinuation. The red that invades his cheeks cannot be tsked away. They have all been together since they were children — there is no way Erwin and Levi’s secrecy could slip past him, Hanji, and Nile. Miche’s superior senses and being groomed into a detective, he was the first to figure it out. Nile did take much longer to catch on. Too busy chasing after his now soon-to-be wife.

“I’m aware,” he pauses to take a sip of his tea, “I simply said you’re not supposed to. I never said not to.”

Miche hides his face behind the teacup, cursing Erwin for saying anything because now he is putting agency behind his pining. But he is not like Erwin, someone who can be satisfied with secrecy, and he is not like Hanji, someone with a harem under the spell of their charms. He wants you to be his, shamelessly his, loudly and proudly his, and he wants to be shamelessly yours, to tell everybody that his love resides in a beautiful woman with calloused hands and a sweet voice.

He was never strong in the first place when it came to you but now it seems his strength is withering away completely.

■

Ever since Miche mentioned wanting you in the estate more, you have been learning some new skills. Who knew making potpourris could be so useful? The maids inside the estate seem to love them, making the closets smell sweet instead of stale, they even requested some for the bathrooms. You agreed as long as they could spare some cinnamon for you to use in it.

Late in the evening with a sheer bag of your homemade potpourri, you sneak into the household. Catching a glimpse of Miche is not exactly rare but definitely not as common as you both hope. Better than before but still not enough for either of you. There’s a place in your heart that craves to be completed and you know only Miche can satiate it.

What’s frustrating is that the dress code inside the estate is different, so you had to trade some fresh lavender for a pair of white stockings instead of your usual gardening attire. Your clumsiness rears its head once more, tripping on your way to the bathroom on the second story not even realizing Miche is there before he’s holding your arm so you don’t fall flat onto the floor.

It’s highly embarrassing. Tripping so messily in front of him. There’s an art in the way the rich ladies swoon and faint prettily so the one they want to court can catch them but that was nothing of the sort. You see this as an inconvenience not an art form, completely frazzled and stuttering but Miche sees a chance. Erwin’s innuendo bounces around in his head and before he even thinks, he’s pulling you into the bathroom with him, looking into the hallway before closing the door.

He finally takes a moment to process the situation. You and him are alone, in a secluded bathroom away from anybody at the moment. This may be the only chance he has at the moment to pursue you. But instead of being the suave bachelor he should be, he catches a whiff of the strong potpourri and stutters out, “what’s-what’s this?”

Watching a dignified man fall over himself is endearing, seeing his cheeks glow like when he was a kid and his green eyes look more lively when they catch yours, “Oh! I made it. To make places smell good...”

He nods, barely listening as he leans closer into you, pressing you against the sink counter. You are sure you sound foolish but neither of you are really paying attention to that, “you know we shouldn’t be alone together. If anybody sees us-”

“No one will, I promise.”

There’s a firm confidence in his voice you cannot deny, letting his hand trail up your arm and to your jaw.

“Can I?”

The possible consequences of your actions melt into puddles at his desperate look, begging and pleading even just for a kiss. You give in, nodding into his hand.

He’s unexpectedly... soft. Holding you like fine china with barely brave kisses, finally indulging in an almost life-long craving is euphoric. There is a small moan pressed into your connected lips and as soft as this moment is, knowing you make the only son of the renowned family of the Zacharius’ sound so pitiful is revitalizing, filling you with confidence that you never had the courage to grasp onto.

Grasping onto the lapels of his coat, you pull away just for a moment, feeling his hand trail down to the peaks of your ass. Just being touched by him sends heat coursing through your veins and puddling into your nethers. The tops of his cheeks to the tips of his ears are red as roses as he pushes out another request, “can I... touch you more, please?”

His age deceives him, now he looks so young and bashful that you cannot help but laugh, “have you never...?”

“No, it’s not that. It’s just-” he curls down into your neck, “you’re different.” You’re special, is what he truly wants to say.

It is risky. Both of you in a stray bathroom in the estate, both of you of completely different class standings, both of you completely head over heels in love with each other. The warmth of his hands linger on every part of you they have touched, your jaw, your hips, your ass. Maybe the risk is worth it.

“Then touch me all you wish, I have no objections.”

Immediately his hands descend to your thighs, pushing up the uniform dress until he is able to feel your skin under a thin layer of stocking. Trailing his fingers to the warmest part between your legs and it isn’t until you are keening and gasping that he finally pulls you to sit in the chair present in the bathroom for visiting ladies purses. Miche is quick to be on his knees between your legs, working off your shoes to set a stocking-covered foot on the juncture of his thigh as he flips the skirt over his head. Now you cannot see him but you can feel him. Hot breath huffed against your thighs sending a shiver through you.

“You’ve served my family so well,” large hands around your ankle and thigh to keep you in place for him while he is kissing at your cunt through your stockings and panties, “let me serve you now.”

The kiss is a muted feeling because of the fabric but nonetheless, it makes you suck in a breath, watching his head move underneath the dress.

Part of him does not wish to cause you inconvenience but the impatience moves his hands before his mind catches up, blunt nails pinching at the fabric covering the place he can smell that is so purely you. Pinching until a little hole is created so he can wiggle a finger in and tear the fabric a big enough hole to reach your cunt. The rip startles you but the fact that he is desperate enough to act so beastly sends a shiver down your spine. God, this is the scent he could only catch a few rare times, the scent he fucks his fist to at night wishing it was you. But now is not the time to dream. His fantasy is brought to life before him, finally able to push your panties aside and stare at your cunt despite the darkness of your skirt covering him. He lets his hand ghost over your clit, savoring how your hips jump a bit, gathering your slick on his fingers and watching how it pulls thin only to finally put his mouth upon your mound. Not minding the curls accenting it or the lingering smell of soil permanently stuck to your skin. In fact, he prefers it because all of these traits are so distinctly you and he cannot get enough of the fact that he is between your legs and under your skirt.

A hot tongue presses firmly against your lower lips, licking in between until he is pushing his face nose deep into your cunt, nose knocking against your clit as his tongue works around your hole. Your head falls slack against the wall, you fold the leg he is not holding against the chair next to his head as your other foot knocks against his growing bulge. Even just feeling his member beneath your covered foot makes your eyes widen because of the size and how desperately his hips chase the pressure. He’s fumbling to hold your leg firmly against his tightened pants, pushing your ankle against his cock as he devours your cunt with dedication. You wish you could at least see him in his full glory but for now, you are satisfied with this.

If anything, you would compare him to a desperate dog humping your leg and lapping at your nethers like it is his last meal on this earthly plane. You find your hands wanting to dig into his hair but the best they can do is clench the fabric over his head. Your hips are following the flow of his tongue, his other hand placed on them to guide your juicy cunt into his mouth while he moans into it. You can just barely feel the edges of his scruff scratch at the sensitive skin around your inner thighs and cunt. The depth of his voice reverberates through your clit and you can feel an orgasm march steadily along your belly while Miche continuously rolls his hips into your ankle. He could cum just from the smell of your cunt sticking to his lips and nose, just imagine how he feels right now.

But he keeps his pace steady despite some of your squirming, licking until he feels his scruff is soaked by your cum and immediately sets to work on cleaning up your juices with his tongue. You keep a hand over your mouth to muffle your sounds. One last thrust into your leg and he is falling apart quickly, cum sticking to his underwear as his hand roughly grips your thigh so he does not moan loud enough to attract any unwanted onlookers. If only you could see how his eyes roll back and his jaw clench.

Again, you feel a hot breath against your thighs as he shifts your panties over your soaked cunt. He pulls back as you gather your skirt to your hips so you can see him and what a sight it is. Heady green eyes and breathless pants paired with disheveled hair and a wet face and beard, licking his lips and huffing through his nose until most of your juices are gone with his tongue and fingers assistance.

Your hand is still present over your mouth, almost frozen in shock about how both you and Miche crossed a line that cannot be uncrossed. Not that you exactly care anymore, your hands pull his face to yours and into another long-winded kiss where you can taste your own juices and his soft tongue once more.

Reluctantly, he pulls back, adjusting your shoes back onto your feet and leaving a wet kiss to your inner thigh before helping you up.

“I should... wash up. You leave before me,” he presses soft kisses onto your scarred knuckles, turning you toward the door with a tap on your ass that leaves you giggling out a farewell.

Next time he wants to see your face when you cum. He would forfeit heaven and earth just experience you once again.

■

The local police came to him with a theft case not long after you two’s... endeavor. Since he has been busy with that, he has not been able to see you besides the occasional glances into the garden. The case was relatively easy too, despite having to pick up for his father’s lack of presence due to his illness that is slowly chipping away at his life. The theft is either the victim’s brother or his brother’s wife and now it is up to the cops to figure it out and knowing them, it will be a slow process with too much paperwork. Miche can already feel the forming headache swelling on his temporal lobe and has already asked one of the maids present to whip up some soothing tea. Chamomile cannot fix his problems but it can make the stress knot in his shoulders untangle just a bit.

What you did not expect is the said maid shoving the tray of tea into your hands, trading them for the rose potpourri you were delivering to Nanny and pushing you in the directions of Miche’s office. Obviously, she took the chance for you and Miche to interact some more, spurring on the continuation of forbidden love even if it was partially for their entertainment. First of all, you do not even know how to pour tea. You are not a maid, you were never trained in that area but put some garden shears in your hands and you could make the garden look pretty as a painting. It shouldn’t be too hard, right?

Wrong. Your hands are already shaking when you meet Miche’s eyes, his eyebrows shooting to his eyebrows and cheeks flushing, memories rushing back into your minds. The heat of his eyes travels up your neck as you silently set the teacup down beside him. For a second, he observes quietly, letting his eyes venture over you and huffing in amusement with how untrained you seem in pouring tea but enjoying it nonetheless.

But he wants his hands to adventure you, letting his fingers rest on the back of your knee that just barely peeks out of the skirt while you pour as if asking for permission. You throw a glance at him and a nod, setting the teapot onto the desk, bracing yourself on the wood as his hand quickly travels to your inner thighs. Pulling you closer to him with a firm grip on your thigh only for him to pause when he feels the torn edges of the previous wound he inflicted upon the stockings you are currently wearing.

“You’re wearing the same stockings?” he whispers fervently, dropping the paperwork in his other hand in shock.

“Well-” you wish you could explain that these are the only stockings you have and how a hole in the crotch does not necessarily make them unwearable and you do not feel like trading more things for a pair of tights you never wear except inside the estate. If only you knew what that does to him, cock already hardening in his pants at the memories and feeling of your soft skin underneath his fingers. Instead, he pulls his chair back, pulling you to sit in his lap as you catch a glance of someone from across the room. Your heart almost bursts out of your chest before you realize that someone is just you, a reflection in a mirror set against a display case. He adjusts to let your legs be opened wide by his. It does not matter if you crush him or not. You could crush his lungs, and he would still try to let his last breaths be of you.

He can see how the overfilled cup of tea sloshes over the rim but more importantly, he can see your embarrassed face in the reflection of the mirror. A mirror he has been meaning to move somewhere else but is glad he has let it stay at least this long in his office. Fingers trail over your exposed panties, pushing into your clit. The way you moan his name sounds like melted honey over his heart but your expressions are more sinful than anything he has ever seen. Contorting with a bitten lip while his fingers soak themselves with your juices. The only thing of his that has been inside you is his tongue but now he feels the plush hotness wrap around his digits, crooking up into the softest parts you are unable to reach yourself.

Both of you know someone could come in or be listening so you try to keep yourself quiet but with how he is pulling the most unholy sounds out of your body. Letting his fingers dip deep inside you to curl and watching with a chin on your shoulder how your mouth opens in a panting moan. You can feel his cock sitting heavy against your ass, rocking back to please him even if a fraction of the pleasure he is giving you. He takes a firm hand to your breasts to make you lean back into him, holding you firm almost wishing you two could melt into each other as your cunt swallows at least three of his twisting fingers. He wishes he could see how your wet pussy takes his fingers in the mirror but his desk cuts off the image. Your face is plenty enough for him to enjoy, as well as the smell of your cunt permeating the air around him, causing his hips to rock into your ass steadily. He watches you intently until your eyes meet his in the mirror, feeling your insides clench sporadically and having to bring his thumb into your mouth to muffle your loudness.

Maybe one day your voice can be set fully free for him to enjoy. But for now, he savors how your cunt soaks his fingers and how your tongue wraps readily around his finger. Panting in his lap, you grind backward, meeting his desperate grinds until he is finishing in his underwear once again.

Miche holds no shame in finishing in his pants as long as you are pleased before it. Though the temptation to feel your cunt wrapped around his cock instead of his fingers settles in quickly. You catch your breath while leaning back onto him, letting him press kisses into your neck and up behind your ear, letting your hand comb through his hair. There are wishes floating between the both of you of how you wish you two could stay in each other's arms a little longer. But before duty can call both of you away, there is a hesitant knock upon the door causing both of you to fly away from each other, his hands coming to flip your skirt down over your ass and you giving him a handkerchief to clean his fingers off on before the maid that attends to his father peaks in.

“Young lord, your father...”

And with a sorrowful squeeze on your hips, he leaves to follow her, unable to meet your eyes.

■

If Miche could see the inner workings of his gilded cage, he can also see the lock that keeps him in it — His father, currently teetering on the edges of consciousness and the call of death. A sickness that struck him in his old age and kept him bedridden for at least two years.

It is not that he wants his father to die. He would not wish death upon anybody, he just wishes his father was able to understand his passions or him at all before he leaves this world. But instead, he keeps his infatuations secret otherwise running the risk of being disowned despite being the only son. He wishes he could show his father how beautiful the garden you tend is, how beautiful you are. How he would risk everything to be with you, how if you could just hold your hand in front of his father even he’d be able to see...

How if his father could just wake up. But instead, he sleeps. Peacefully, almost suspiciously so. The maid was right to get him. The doctors say his time is approaching and Miche has to make the decision to keep him alive but unconscious or pass away peacefully.

It takes five days for Miche to decide.

It takes five days to plan the funeral as well.

This is one request you wish you never had to fulfill. Preparing arrangements of lilies for the funeral of the father of the man you love. It is not strange to not speak to each other for days but this is different. This time sorrow pulls him away from the one thing that could ease this pain. But for a moment as you prepare the flowers in the church for the service, he is able to be alone with you once more.

You wish you could see him wearing a black tux in a different context. Instead, his eyes are darkened, looking as if he hasn’t slept in days. Cautiously, you let your eyes wander around the church making sure no one besides you and him are present before running into his arms. Leaning into his warmth as he takes a deep breath, curling into you.

The church is completely silent before you speak, “I’m sorry-”

“Don’t.”

How many times has he heard “I’m sorry for your loss” in the past few days? He is tired of it. Tired of being reminded how he probably is not as sad as he should be for his father’s death. The only person that did not say the usual line was Erwin, who clapped his back and said “some doors close for others to open.”

“I wish I could help,” you let your hands rub across his back as he rocks the both of you.

“You are.”

“The flowers don’t count-”

“Not with the flowers.”

You go silent once again, letting him hold you just to find some respite before pulling away. He needs to be the official lord of the estate now, composed and elegant to greet people and thank them for coming. Calloused thumbs smelling of lilies brush over his cheeks before he is pulled back with the sounds of expensive shoes hitting the wooden floor of the church.

Miche hates the smell of lilies.

■

Five more days until Miche is able to reach out again. A note with fancy script you can barely read delivered to you by a giggling maid saying, “Bring camellia’s to my chambers tonight.”

Camellias are still in season luckily. Heart beating fast as you cut some flora at his request, finally you get to see him once more.

The blanch whites and biting red of the camellias do not exactly make the most beautiful arrangement, but they look sweet, almost childish with each other. As you work on different parts of the garden your foot taps the grass flat out of nervousness and you keep glancing towards the sun as if the evening could come any sooner.

Miche himself is pacing back and forth in his room, glancing at a dusty book that has not been touched in years before adjusting a blanket over a chair.

Just as the sun sets your impatience gets the best of you, gathering your bundle of flowers before trying to sneak into the estate without anybody seeing you on your way to Miche. It would just be more of a hassle to be interrogated by other maids or worse, Nanny. But before you manage to knock on his door it is swung open and you are pulled into a kiss that steals your breath. You are trying to mumble against his lips that someone will see the two of you but he only pulls back for a moment.

“And? I am the lord of the house now. It doesn’t matter.” You suppose it doesn’t.

“I could take you against every wall of this house, they can’t do anything.”

You smack his chest with the flowers as he gives you a playful smile, kissing you loudly in the hallway before pulling you into his room. He sits you on the edge of his bed as he walks to his bookshelf, leaving your eyes to wander. Old fencing swords on display, his family crest messily embroidered into a piece of fabric, some stray chess pieces scattering the countless amount of bookshelves present. There is even a vase filled with a variety of dried flowers that you recognize from the garden you have tended since you were young.

There is a quiver in his step as he retrieves a dusty book from the shelf, nerves making his leg shake as he sits next to you. He’s acting too formal, it makes you stiffen and shift your full attention as he clears his throat.

“Do you remember when we were young, in the garden?” Tilting your head you almost say there were plenty of times when you two were young and in the garden, but the most memorable one was when he was staggering and lanky, walking up to you red as a sunburn and leaving with a flower pressed into his palm.

“That time you asked me what flowers were?”

Miche’s face turns just as red as when he walked up to you as a young boy, still the memory haunts him but more than anything he remembers how hopeless he felt after he held a small flower in his hands, knowing he could never truly pursue you. Until now.

There is a flattened pink disc that still lingers with the sweet scent of camellia. Something close to jasmine that has long seeped into the pages of the book. It contrasts the fresh red and white flowers in your hands so readily, freshly bloomed in the spring sun and picked just for him.

“Yes,” he clears his throat once more, hoping his nerves will clear with it, and sets the dried flower into the palm of yours. Of course, you remember this. A bloom you snipped too short that your mother would have scolded you for if she saw. A bloom you gave to him hoping it would satisfy the want in his eyes.

It was when he realized his gilded cage was too tight. A gilded cage that now has no lock, door swinging open for Miche to finally stretch his wings.

“I am the lord of the house now,” you nod, wondering at what he is getting at, “and I am the last Zacharius,” uhhuh, “and the police won’t stop working with me even if I run the chance of losing my social status...”

The blood in your body rushes to your face so quickly it almost makes you dizzy. He holds your hands, thumbing over the fresh flower petals before kissing your knuckles of the hand that holds the dried flower.

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“Unless you don’t want me to say it.”

Tears are gathering in your eyes and you can’t help but smack his broad chest with flowers over and over until he is giggling and fallen flat into the bed beside you. Letting the petals fly across the sheets until you are fully satisfied with the hits you have served. The singular dried pink flower is amongst the carnage of petals, discarded and forgotten in the sheets.

“Can I take that as a yes?”

You swing a leg over his hips, “yes. Always yes.”

He gives you a boyish smile of true excitement before he leans up to trap you in his arms, pulling you into a kiss filled with smiles and giggles.

“Since you are on top of me...” he sets your hips closer to his, letting his slowly growing bulge be known.

“You’ve become less gentlemanly with me, it seems.”

“I will always be a gentleman to you, my love, let’s say I am now more honest, shall we?”

You hum into his lips, letting his hands venture underneath your more casual dress to feel bare skin, ghosting over your ass only to feel no presence of panties.

“If innuendos make me ungentlemanly, what does no panties make you?” he breathes against your lips.

A whisper of “who knows” is the response he receives before you are rolling your hips into him, capturing him in another messy kiss as his hands meld into the fat of your behind, guiding you in your grinds. Intoxicating, every kiss you allow him only pulls him further into the mix of you and flower petals.

It only takes a moment to flip the two of you, letting him push your dress up until you are pulling it off yourself. Miche sits back to watch for a moment, letting his eyes adventure across the body he has never fully seen but craves more than anything before he unbuttons his own shirt. Slowly, almost temptingly so until he reveals himself fully to you. The hunger to see him in his full glory finally satisfied and glory is the most accurate word to describe him. Strength set in his broad shoulders and chest with a bit of pudge settling on his belly decorated with a brunette happy trail leading to the biggest cock you have ever had the pleasure of seeing. Intimidatingly big, accented by heavy balls with cute curls. He lets you stare as he does the same, the last of the setting sun shining through the window to shine on your skin along with some of the petal carnage sticking to your body. It is only when you close your legs after shifting your gaze that he settles on the bed once more, kissing the tops of your knees

“Must you really hide from me?” He has been knuckle and tongue deep inside you, it is long past the time for such shy, albeit adorable, actions.

You bloom into his embrace, letting your legs fall open to frame his own and his eyes settle straight onto your cunt. He gives a sly boyish smile, licks his lips, and before you can close your legs with a squeal of “don’t stare!” he dives down. Once again letting you feel the softness of his tongue on your lower lips and clit, gathering spit onto your clit to let slide between your folds to your hole to help with the next step.

It is a quick kiss to your cunt before he pulls himself up and over your body, rubbing his scruff along your neck before letting the tip of his cock tease your clit. A soft exhale of his name breathed against his hair, and he kisses your jaw, mumbling into your ear, “can I?”

Your nails make residence on his back as you echo your previous words, “always yes.”

Once more he captures your lips, swallowing your gasps as his tip stretches you out slowly. Part of him wishes to see how your pussy blossoms open at the coaxing of his cock but he would much rather experience your first official time together up close. Hearing every moan and hiss he pulls from you and feeling your nails scratch against his back. Resisting the temptation to cum immediately when he feels the softness of your cunt wrapping around him.

But he pauses when you whisper a small ow, not pushing any further until you say and peppering kisses onto your eyelids as you sigh in pleasure. Now you know for sure he is definitely big enough to hurt, “damnit.”

“Sorry love, almost halfway I promise.”

Half? Halfway? “Almost halfway?”

His chuckle reverberates through you, embarrassed with how you are implying how even half of his cock is hard to take. He pushes another kiss onto your lips, rolling his hips in and outwards only a tad to soak more of your juices on his cock. Inch by inch he sinks into you, pulling back whenever he feels your face grimace to coat his cock with more of your self-produced lube, thankful you are aroused enough to even produce any. Until he is fully seated within you, even him not moving makes you breathless.

Hands press into your cheeks making your eyes open to look into his. A beautiful green no plant could ever wish to achieve. He whispers against your lips once more, asking for a sign to make sure you are ready and quickly you answer back yes. Locking your legs behind his thighs to roll back into his, the stretch is stinging at first but the more thrusts he sends into you the less of a problem it becomes. Eyes rolling back into your head and mouth open to let moans fly free, the pleasure is nothing compared to his fingers or his tongue. His member hits the softest parts inside of your walls, pulling an orgasm out of you before you even realize it. He holds you as you spasm around him, letting your nails dig into his back and resisting the urge to cum with you.

Patiently, he waits until you are trying to catch your breath to pull out, tugging his cock covered in your juices to spill his cum onto your belly. Later, he will think about the possibility of having children. For now, he wants to enjoy every moment with you, just you.

More kisses are pressed into your face that you gladly return, letting him rest above you in a comfortable cage. However, the night is just beginning — why waste the dark embrace of the stars with sleep?

■

Late in the morning, there is a knock on Miche’s door which tears his warmth away from you. Throwing a robe on before peeking the door open to see Nanny standing there with a smile on her age-worn face. His heart drops to his toes, knowing that your endeavors will now be shared with every single servant in the house if they did not happen to hear them last night.

“Should we bring you two breakfast — no, lunch — in bed?”

There is a blush settled in his cheeks because essentially he is being teased by the woman who raised him but he only mutters out a yes please, before making his way back to the bed to curl around you once more. A warm hand placed over your puffy and abused mound to ease at least some of the sourness settling in. But at least finally you two get to bask in the heat of each other in the comfort of his own bed, even if there are still flower petals sticking to both of your bodies.

■

“You didn’t have to do this.”

“But I did,” Erwin adjusts his tie in the mirror, one set against a display case in Miches office. As much as Miche objected at first, it was easy for Erwin to become an Officiant and Miche will forever be grateful for why.

A pretty silver band set with precious stones is twisted around between Miches fingers. Erwin speaks up once again, “Nervous?”

“No,” he huffs out of his nose, “excited.”

■

Never once in your life have you imagined maids fretting over you like a highborn lady. Adjusting your dress and hair until you have to shoo them away otherwise you would go mad. You aren’t exactly sure how fancy ladies stand so many hands on them. It is not a huge voluptuous dress either, you did not want one. The maid dresses were even too fancy for your taste, becoming all too accustomed to overalls caked with soil or casual dresses with branch-tugged tears. It hurts knowing nobody but his friends will be here, neither of your parents being alive to see how happy the two of you are but you know your mother would scold you with tears in her eyes and kiss your forehead to know how proud she is of you. You are not sure what your father would have done but if he loved you as much as your mother claimed, you hope he loves the happiness you are experiencing as well.

Levi is waiting at the door for your arm. After becoming close to him throughout a year of officially being Miche’s partner, you two have grown close, bonding over being born in lower status’ than your lovers and teasing the both of them when they show particularly pompous attitudes. And whenever Hanji would flirt, instead of being met with heat down your neck like it was at first, you throw playful quips back until they are keeling over, laughing their heart out.

Levi is silent, but he tucks a red camellia behind your ear with a hand lingering on your cheek. You are lucky he even decided to show affection but you know everything he does comes from a pure place in his heart.

The ceremony is informal, only you and his friends beside another maid and Nanny that has been keen on getting you and Miche together present. Erwin is there to officiate and Levi steps on his foot to cut a soon-to-be long speech short so you two can shut up and kiss already, in Levi’s words.

If only Erwin, Levi, Hanji, Nile and his wife knew what that garden has seen in the early hours of the morning when both you and Miche were struck with the idea of fulfilling a fantasy. Then surely they would not be stepping around the base of the grapefruit tree so casually. The maids already know — quick as fire, remember?

Miche Zacharius has seen the inner workings of his own gilded cage since he was young. But now, finally after all these years, he can experience the life he has always wished for, filled with freedom and passion blowing under his stretched wings.

𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔰: @kenmachishi @novvabeam @armins-bowl-cut @yourtamaki @jeonmahito @peachysimp @thethyri @bakugos-cumsock @peachy-momos @tetsunormous @ixwrites @bakugohoex @iwaizoomies @ectacy @bunnelliee @snkfade @iiraven @babieweeb @dancingazaleas @jellyfiishing @flamingblinglove @whats-her-quirk @venenat3d @erenpapi @ive-always-hated-you @michezacharias-wiki

𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔨 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤, 𝔩𝔦𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔤, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔯𝔢𝔟𝔩𝔬𝔤𝔤𝔦𝔫𝔤 !! ʕ◔ᴥ◔ʔっ♥

Did you enjoy? remember any and all feedback and thoughts are appreciated and enjoyed. I’m sending you love and well wishes.

//: 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

620 notes · View notes

goldentournesol · 3 years

Text

Not in That Way

*gif not mine, found on Giphy*

(Spencer Reid x fem!Reader)

The one where Spencer’s TA falls in love with him.

Length: 3.3k

A/N: VAGUE SPOILERS FOR S15 AHEAD! AGE GAP (10 years). Read at your own risk everybody, very angsty. NO PART TWO’S WILL BE WRITTEN. enjoy :)

masterlist

It wasn’t hard, really. It wasn’t hard at all to fall in love with Spencer Reid. In fact, it was the easiest thing she’d ever done. It came so easily that it shook her to the core.

Really, what’s not to love? He is a badass FBI agent with a heart of gold, he can literally recite almost any book to her on demand, and it certainly doesn’t hurt that he looks like he’s been sculpted by a coveted artist.

She didn’t know though, she didn’t know how easy it would be to be completely enamored by someone. She didn’t know what kind of life she’d be stepping into when she’d applied to become his Teaching Assistant. She’d heard from her peers that there was a part-time professor who had been looking for a TA. She signed up without a second thought, desperate for any kind of connections that could possibly help her with her PhD in forensic psychology. When she’d learned that he was a certified genius whose other job was to be a real life superhero, she hoped and prayed he’d pick her application.

She was over the moon when she found out that he did indeed pick her out of all the students who had applied. This was an opportunity of a lifetime. She’d seen his university ID photo on the website and thought he was attractive, but seeing him in person was almost magical. The camera definitely could not quite pick up on the subtle gold flecks in his irises or the silky sheen of his hair. And that smile. She was sure she could drown in it forever.

After being chosen and going through a number of interviews, Y/N learned just how meticulous Dr. Reid was in everything he did. She helped him create the syllabus as well as build his lesson plans. Over the semester, she would go over his grading since he had the tendency to give students the answers instead of making helpful comments on the papers to make them think and reflect. She’d also learned about his particular aversion to technology, which meant they had multiple meet-ups when he was in town just so she can walk him through certain systems, like the university’s portal system as well as the email. She also showed him how to pose his answers as questions instead, explaining that sometimes, he shouldn’t answer their incomplete thoughts because it's an undergrad class. Also, with his unpredictable schedule concerning the FBI, she would often step in and teach his class whenever he was away on a case.

They’d become good friends outside of his office and classroom, probably closer than they should have been. He was just too likeable and she was always eager enough to hear what he had to say, thus a bond between them was born and reinforced each time they saw each other. He was so thoughtful, it shocked her. Once he’d heard her mention that she used to love collecting keychains when she was a child, and made sure to get her a new one from each state he’d visit thanks to his trips around the country. Her previous boyfriends were beyond disappointing in comparison to say the least, and they weren’t even dating. He knew her favorite coffee order by heart and often had it ready with a fresh croissant whenever they met at the university’s coffee shop and if they were meeting at his office, he’d take them to go.

It was little things like that that made her fall in love with him. And she knew, it’s not like she didn’t, she just chose to hide it with every cell of her being. Crushing on your professor is pretty common amongst university students, but being a TA and being desperately in love with your professor was a whole different kind of story.

She already admired his intelligence in class immensely, however hearing his stories from his time out in the field made her heart grow three times the size of normal. His stories ranged from being about geographical profiling, to action-packed anecdotes, and even funny moments with the team.

Was she constantly impressed by him? Yes.

Was she constantly worried about him? Also yes.

Which is why she’d practically made him adopt the habit of texting or calling her every time he landed in DC. They’d been chasing this unsub, Lynch, for months on end and he’d informed her that they were finally close to getting him. The last time they talked two days ago, he was feeling confident. But then it was just silence. He hadn’t texted her, he hadn’t called her. She didn’t even know if he was back in DC. Her mind took her places she didn’t want to go. He’d gotten so good with keeping her updated that this silence was turning her blood into ice water.

She’d left 11 missed calls so far. But she didn’t give up, she was determined to hear from him. The next morning she tried again, holding her breath and squeezing her eyes shut in a silent prayer.

“Hello?” Someone finally picked up, a woman.

“Hello? Who is this? I’m trying to reach Spencer Reid.” Y/N said into the phone, voice clearly on the edge of tears.

“Oh you must be Y/N Y/L/N. You’re Spencer’s TA. I’m Penelope Garcia, I work with Spencer.” She said into the phone evenly, calmly.

“Yes, I am. Did something happen to Spencer? He hasn’t contacted me in two days. Why do you have his phone?” Y/N worried into the phone. She could hear every heartbeat, loud and clear.

“Spencer is in the hospital. There was an explosion yesterday and he hit his head really hard. We found him passed out in his apartment this morning.” Penelope answered. Y/N’s eyes widened and she felt the tears slip from her eyes quickly. The panic began to set in.

“C-could you please text me the address?” Y/N managed to whisper into the phone through her tears.

“Of course, sweetie. He’s going to be okay. His mother is here, I’m assuming you know about Diana?” She asked tenderly.

“Yes, yes, I know. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Y/N said, already rushing to put on shoes and looking for her keys.

The drive to the hospital wasn’t long, but Y/N felt like it took ages to get there anyway. Her breathing was uneven and her eyes were already swollen as if she’d been crying for days. There was a bad, bad feeling reverberating around in her chest. She’d somehow floated through the hospital like she was running on autopilot.

She’d found the room and met eyes with a blonde woman adorning two identical blue puffs in her hair. She would have thought they were adorable if she wasn’t panicking her heart out. She spotted Spencer laying on the hospital bed with oxygen tubes hanging around his ears and inserted into his nose. The sight made her stomach lurch. Something about the way his usually pink lips were drained of their color made her want to sob until tomorrow came. Beside the bed on the other side sat Diana Reid, a tall woman with short blonde hair. She’d seen her in photos before. Diana merely stared at her with a hint of a smile.

She stepped in the hospital room, swallowing down the bile in her throat, “H-Hi, I’m Y/N.” She waved tentatively into the room, almost unable to keep with the tensity of the two women’s gazes. She wiped at her eyes and stood at the foot of Spencer’s bed, “Is he going to be okay?” She asked, staring at the steady rise and fall of Spencer’s chest. That way it was reassuring to watch him. She could hear her heartbeat in her ears as she stood.

“The doctors are hopeful.” Penelope replied, assessing the young woman who just entered. She was much younger than she previously thought she was. Although she had no idea what to expect when it came to Spencer’s academic life, he was always surprising her.

Diana sat still and silent in the hospital chair, a pensive expression draped across her features. Penelope sensed a tension in the room and looked towards Diana, “Hey, Diana, would you like to come with me down to the cafeteria to fetch some jello for Spencer to eat when he wakes up?”

Y/N sent Penelope a sidelong glance filled with gratitude. She tuned out the sounds of Diana telling Penelope the story of the first time Spencer had jello as they exited the small room. She immediately pulled up the chair closest to his bed and grasped his hand tightly. She let out a shaky breath at the contact. Cold, his hand was so, so cold.

“Oh, Spencer, you scared the shit out of me.” She whispered, pressing her lips to the back of his hand quickly, “I could have lost you today...and-and I wouldn’t have known what to do with myself if that would have happened. I know you probably can’t hear me, but I still have to say what I’m going to say. I have to. For myself. So here goes,” she pauses, taking a deep breath, “there’s nothing that scares me more than losing you, and that thought alone terrifies me.” She sniffled, wiping away her tears, “What I feel for you terrifies me, Spencer. I didn’t know I was capable of loving someone so deeply until I met you. And...I don’t know what to do with all this love, I want to hand it all to you, let you see yourself the way I see you, but I can’t do that. I can’t.” She held back an incoming sob, whispering, “I can’t ask that of you.”

She bowed her head and rested it along his forearm, her silent tears soaking through the hospital sheets. The fear of grieving for him outweighed the fear of rejection. She’d never forgive herself if he died without knowing how big of a space he occupied in her heart. She didn’t know if she was brave enough to tell him to his face while he was awake, but this was a start. Solidifying her feelings was a start. And man, were they solid.

A few minutes later, her phone began to ring because of an endless stream of emails. There was a class today, and she’d have to teach it. She went back and forth from her phone to Spencer’s face and released a deep, heavy sigh from the pit of her chest. She stood from her seat and hovered her hand over his cheek before allowing it to rest timidly on his skin.

“I have to go, but I’ll see you soon.” She paused, chewing on her lip, “I love you.” She said softly, fresh tears making their way back to the brim of her eyes. She pulled away from him and exited the room swiftly.

Spencer’s bleary eyes opened slightly to just barely catch the sight of her disappearing into the hallway from which she came. Seconds later, Penelope and his mother came marching in, seeing his open eyes.

Penelope set down the cups of jello nearby and Diana made her way to her son quickly. He could barely keep his eyes open for long enough. It was a small achievement but they both held onto it dearly.

Hours later, he blinked his eyes open again as he heard his mother and Penelope conversing about his favorite type of cloud. Diana leaned over her son’s bed and set a comforting hand on his shoulder. He stared at her fondly.

“Am I alive or is this heaven?” He asked, smiling slightly.

“You are very much alive.” Diana smiled broadly at him.

Garcia had since gone back to the office to assist the team in finally closing the Lynch case. Spencer was just waking up from yet another snooze.

Diana looked at him closely, sometimes he felt she was the profiler in the room, “She told you didn’t she?”

Spencer rubbed at his eyes slightly, “Who are you talking about?” He yawned.

“The pretty girl who was in here earlier.” Y/N’s name had slipped her mind the second she said it. Spencer stared at his mother incredulously, shocked at just how clear her mind was at the moment. Diana took his silence as an affirmative and nodded at him.

“You should tell her.” She said definitively. For a moment, he doubted if he understood just what she meant, but he understood.

“How did you know?” Spencer asked curiously.

“I told you, a mother always knows. And I saw the way she looked at you. She deserves to know, Spencer.” Diana said.

She deserves to know.

The thought tumbled around in his head for days after he was discharged from the hospital. He was on medical leave for the moment but as soon as he could see straight, he took the train to her apartment. He’d been there a few times, they’d had a few casual dinners there while grading papers together or coming up with future lesson plans. His hands were on the verge of trembling as he knocked on her apartment door. The numbers nailed on the door mocked him as he stood waiting for her to open.

She frowned at the sound, she wasn’t expecting anybody. She pushed her laptop to the side and stood to straighten her pajamas, making her way to the door. She ripped it open as soon as she saw who it was.

“Spencer! Oh thank goodness you’re okay! I’ve been worried sick about you.” She threw her arms around his middle tightly, making him stagger a bit from the impact, but he enveloped her in his arms anyway. The contact was very welcome.

“Hey.” He smiled into the hug, his heart spilling with gratitude over being worthy enough of her attention. They separated from the embrace and she stared at him with a look resembling wonder.

“What are you doing here? I thought you still had a few more days off until you had to get back to work. Come in, come in.” She moved aside to let him in. She also moved a plethora of blankets and textbooks off the couch to make space for him to sit.

“I know, I’m sorry for kind of coming over unannounced. I didn’t mean to intrude or anything.” He eyed her matching set of cartoon character pajamas as he took a seat, making a mental note that it was the most adorable thing he’s ever seen. She blushed under his gaze but shook her head nonetheless.

“Oh come on, you know you’re always welcome here. Can I get you something to drink? Some water or coffee, maybe?” She asked.

“Water’s fine.” He smiled, leaning back into the couch. She nodded and made her way into the kitchen. Spencer’s shoulders untensed for a moment and he hadn’t realized that he’d been carrying so much of his worries in them around her. She came back with the water and took a seat next to him, angling her body to face him. He muttered a thank you as he sipped from it, unsure how to approach the situation.

“I wanted to thank you. For coming to the hospital to see me. That meant a lot.” He met her eyes and saw a flash of panic dance across her irises. How did he know she was there? Penelope probably told him, right? He couldn’t have heard her.

“Of course, Spencer. It’s the least I could do.” She smiled sweetly. His heart cleaved in his chest as he stared at the sweet girl in front of him.

What did he ever do to deserve her friendship?

He fidgeted with the glass in his hands, a silence beginning to drape over them.

“Is everything okay?” She asked, noticing his fidgeting.

He took a deep breath and set the glass down on the coffee table in front of them. He turned his body to face her and reached for her soft hands. Her breath hitched at the intimate contact, butterflies erupting in the pit of her abdomen.

“You are a remarkable person, Y/N. I’m so lucky to have you in my life. I see the absolute worst that humanity has to offer on a daily basis, but you have made it your mission to make my life easier. And you do, honestly, I wouldn’t know what to do without you.” He said with soft eyes and a half-laugh. She smiled back, she could practically feel the rush from his words directly in her brain.

“And it is an honor to be loved by you,” his voice hesitated to say the word, his eyes darkening with regret as he continued. Realization snapped into place for her as he said, “but I can’t give you what you need.”

He had heard her. He knew.

Her blood ran cold as she tore her hands away from his, as if the skin on his hands had the ability to burn her. He frowned as he watched her frantic eyes search his for any semblance of dishonesty. Her throat closed up over all the words that fought to surface. She opened her mouth to say something but nothing came up. Instead, tears sprung to the corners of her eyes.

“What?” She whispered, brokenhearted and momentarily in disbelief.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” He tried to console her but she was past the point of consolation.

“I-I understand.” She nodded painfully, tears cascading down her face before she even got the chance to wipe them away, “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have said anything, it’s completely unprofessional.” She swallowed an incoming sob as best as she could.

“No, I’m glad you told me, but if I’m being honest, I knew long before it. This isn’t about professionality, I don’t care about that. But I care about you, a lot.” Spencer said softly, staring at the young woman in front of him. She shook her head, utterly devastated and doing her best to shield herself from his gaze. Thoughts escaped her as her heart took a deep-dive to settle in her abdomen.

“And I thought I should let you know how I feel. I love you, Y/N,” he paused, “just not in that way.” The soft voice he used was completely useless against the harshness of the words.

She tried, she tried her absolute hardest to suppress the incoming sob, but those words just about broke the dam. She rubbed at her eyes, nodding. He tried to set a comforting hand on her shoulder but decided against it. She took a deep breath and stood up from the couch.

That was enough humiliation for the day.

“No, no, I completely understand.” She said, voice wobbly and eyes ringed with red. He frowned up at her at the sight of her being so upset.

“Will you be okay?” He asked as he stood up from his seat. She laughed slightly, this man had devastated her, broken her heart with a few simple words and still wondered if she’d be okay. That’s Spencer Reid for you. The question made her heart ache and long for him more. His simplicity and good intentions made her question why the world wasn’t kind enough to let her have him.

“No, I won’t. And I probably won’t be okay for a long time. Because I will keep meeting men and keep comparing them to you so, until I stop doing that, no, I won’t be okay, Spencer.” She answered with a surprisingly stable voice. He frowned and nodded.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, stepping forward to cup her cheek and gently use his thumb to wipe the remainder of her tears. Her glassy eyes bored right into his, her lips wobbling at the contact. She then closed her eyes and leaned her cheek into his palm, soaking in his warmth one last time before he tore himself away from her completely and showed himself out of the apartment without looking back.

That was when she allowed herself to fall apart. He heard her heart wrenching cries from behind the door and hesitated, but decided to walk away anyway with a chest heavy with regret.

She will never be enough for him, she thought.

He will never be enough for her, he thought.

#im sorry #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #Spencer Reid fic #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid masterlist #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid imagine #professor reid #spencer reid fluff #mgg

526 notes · View notes

dynananarmy · 3 years

Text

REPUTATION|| Min Yoongi

Summary:

You were in the top. There was no person in the world who didn't know your name, either for your success or your reputation, believing that the only thing you should do is smile, be a good girl, don't force your opinions on people, and NOT for any reason deny the dating rumors. But then a gummy smile and a sweet accent came to change all your believe system, from a friends with benefits to falling in love, you encounter a new fear: would he love you despite your reputation

Pairings: Idol!Min Yoongi(SUGA) x singer!reader

Warnings: distorted body image and unwarranted fear of gaining weight. Unhealthy habits like starvation, underage alcohol consuption. Mild smut and age gap (Yoongi is 25 and reader is 20) but everything is consensual). If i miss something please let me know.

Gorgeous

You should take it as a compliment That I got drunk and made fun of the way you talk You should think about the consequence Of your magnetic field being a little too strong And I got a boyfriend, he's older than us He's in the club doing, I don't know what You're so cool, it makes me hate you so much

You make me so happy, it turns back to sad, yeah There's nothing I hate more than what I can't have Guess I'll just stumble on home to my cats Alone, unless you wanna come along, oh

Anxiety was a familiar feeling, a daily occurrence even before you knew how to call it. The constant fear of making the wrong move, not filling everybody's expectations. But it never gets easier, walking a red carpet was nerve wracking at 20 like it was when you were 13, but expectations were higher, every single album need it to be different, different sound, different style, you need it to be more mature but not to sexy because then you were to provocative for kids who follow you, but not to demure because then you are a prim. And then, you were too fat, and then too skinny, or you would have the nice flat stomach that people expect but you didn't have the hourglass figure. So everything you stand in an outfit risky enough for you, you would shake like a leaf, praying that the apple and the water that you had eaten would not somehow make you look bloated. That you contour was blended, that the powder under your eyes would not flash in camera.

You were about to promote your second single of your album, a song who was for a ex manager and ended up seeing as a call out for war for a singer whom you were friends but ended up splitting ways when she started dating an ex boyfriend, an ex boyfriend that you don't actually love but it was still awkward going out with the new girlfriend of your ex. Your team takes it as publicity, even if there was not an actual feud, good or bad, publicity is publicity, and so the music video only seems to spark even more fire. Still you invited all of your friends, friends that you met through other friends, in fashion shows or while performing in lingerie runways, the kind of friends that you partied with in your mansion in Coney Island or the one in Malibu. But that only sends a spark of worry, appearing in a music video with models with perfect bodies only makes you even more insecure about your own, and you were scared about what people would think about it.

A tug in your arm pulled you out of the dazed of the camera's flash and your thoughts, Calum King was a producer, a handsome embodiment of masculinity, a strong build body, a short beard, barely there but enough to let you know that he was a man. He was older than you by a lot, not enough to be scandalous but enough to raise a few eyebrows.

He smile and you copied and hold his arm to the cameras, the lady assisting the red carpet gesture you to move and once you were out of the sight of the camera you let a shaky breath a pound in the head and the emptiness of your stomach make you feel dizzy and your publicist move quickly, holding a hard candy to you.

“Are you okay?” Calum asks, still holding you, you nod immediately and put the candy in your mouth.

“I´m good, the lights make me feel light headed but nothing that a little bit of sugar does´n fix” you say tasting the candy, feeling a little bit less tired, he nods but his sight was already far away from you.

“Baby, i´m going to say hello to a few friends, I¨ll see you in our seats, okay?” He doesn't wait for an answer, his manager following behind, you let a sigh of relief, relieved that you don't have to keep pretending anymore, Calum and you met a few months ago while visiting a friend of your to the studio, a paparazzi saw you having coffee and after that you kept seeing each other, he would be your date in events and to the world, you were official, but you didn't even be intimate,barely hold hands while walking in the streets, or kiss each other more than a few pecks when winning a prize, but even that, it felt forced. Your publicist looks away from her phone to look at you and gives you an indifferent look.

“A new korean band is in here, apparently they are very famous and are contending against you for one of the awards, maybe you should go and see them so people see that you support new talents”

Curiosity sparks within you “Korean band, is it BTS?” you asked, sipping your water you publicist arch an eyebrow

“Yes, did you know them?” she looks rarely interested, you nod reminiscing how a few weeks ago you had stumbled on a fan edit of you and one of the members titled “1997 golden babies” seeing the dark haired boy dancing and performing with that much passion caught your attention, looking at his name and thus his group, fascinated enough that you had expend a few hour looking at the music videos and some of their performances, a bubble of excitement grew in your stomach making you feel energized again and you started to walk knowing your publicist was going to take you to them, skipping to some people you got to the corner where a group of at least 10 men stand, you immediately felt short and tiny and intimidated but you put your confident face and wait for your publicist to talk with one of the men, who yo assume was their manager, he look surprised and his gazed fall to you where you standing sandwiched between your bodyguards, he nod and went to say something to the remaining men 7 of them wipe their heads instantly to you and you smile, you make the remaining and they scatter in formation, pushing the taller men in front, he gives you a smile and flashed with a set of dimples.

“Hii, is so nice to meet you guys” You break the ice, you scanned every single one of them, from the tall broad shoulder one to Jungkook, the one of the edit and then your eyes fall to one of them, instantly draw for the way he looks at you, like he knew something your eyes goes back to the taller guy as he start to talk.

“It's so incredible to meet, we are big fans of your music” he says, you had heard that a lot but he sound genuine and the rest of the boy nodded, your eyes went back to the guy with the feline eyes and you see something that you had seen before but rarely from another artist, admiration, but also understanding, like he understanded something and he was fascinated by it.

“Are you performing tonight?” you asked trying to shake the feeling that he was reading you like a book he understands the language.

“Ummm, no, not tonight, hopefully someday” he looked a little ashamed but that only made you feel more admiration for them, they are escalating little by little.

“Id watched some of your performance” a chorus of ¨whoas¨ breaks their silence and you smile wider “You would have made us look like kids beside you, you are truly amazing” you compliment, the words flooding with ease, all of them let a ¨thank you¨ and when you meet eyes with the feline eyed boy he gives you the most beautiful and shy gummy smile, something inside you felt warm and fuzzy and you enjoy it so much that you wish it never went away. Your publicist asked for a picture and you stand with them.

The flash was quick, you changed the pose and at the same time you felt a delicate brush of fingers in your back. Tingles run down your spine and your hair stands, how was it possible that a man could make you feel that way without talking, without knowing him? You didn't even know his name, or how he was, he could be an asshole.

The camera stop flashing and the warm fingers leave your trembling body (you didn't know if it was of starvation or the adrenaline running through your veins) You look at him, the man with the gummy smile, cat-like eyes and the rose petal lips, he bow and you did the same as a reflex, that make him smile fully and the giddy, warm feeling bubble in your stomach all the way up your chest. You broke eye contact and with warm cheeks you went to hug the taller guy hugging all of them (not without almost melting in gummy smile boy, and breathing deeply his mainly citrus smell).

Your entrance was cut out by your manager, who led you backstage and you hope you bump into them, to talk to him, to hear him and let his fingers pay with your skin, but you were immediately trap in the changing room pulling other set of clothes and when you get out your publicist was waiting with a mint and a glass of ice you chew while letting the makeup artist retouch your makeup.

You had already stood up 5 times to receive an award and Top Social Artist was the last nomination before going to change for your performance. Sitting on the front row with Calum on your side being the perfect supporting boyfriend and with Zendaya on the other side beside her a bunch of other models friends, big names in the industry who appeared in the music video that had already premiered a few awards ago. And although you should've be worried if you would win the category you were already seeing black spots, nausea and heavy eyelids accompanying, and sitting beside with the most beautiful, tallest, slimmest, women of the moment didn't make you feel better, you could barely hear anything but the sound of blood pumping through your ears but after hearing your name and the loud cheers of your fans a smile appear in your clammy face, you wonder if you could even stand to get the award if you win, a louder cheer broke in the arena and looking to the screen you saw the south korean band announced and when it disappears it took a few seconds for the screams to stop, the announcers opened the envelope, two seconds of silence in the speakers and then...“BTS!” You jump clapping finding strength out of nowhere and with a smile you saw the band walk in front of your eyes with wide eyes, open mouth and smiles, a single hand sticking out for you and knowing who it was you brush his hand with yours.

Then you turn back and with a bodyguard in front and another in your heels, you walk into the main stage of the arena.

Everything was blurry, you followed the guard into the hallway and crouched to get in the elevator, holding the mic and letting your head go over the choreography. And when the voice in your in ear says “one”you feel the lift move and stand.You felt like you were going to faint, but still make your moves as smooth as possibly, it felt like forever but when you give the final move and look at the camera you give the most convincing smile ever. Wait for the count to end and the light to ade out to let your body fall to the ground. But the light did not fade, and the camera was still on you.

The host appeared to your side to announce that your music had already broken a record and that you had won another 2 awards. You accept the award and let the host hug you and unintentionally your body stumbles, your eyes give a turn and feel almost lost conscious.“It's okay” you said to the man and pulled out with a smile, looking to the worried crowd,”It's okay” you repeat in the mic ” I very excited, to be here and to win this awards, thank you to everybody that make this possible, my fans, my family, my team, everybody that listen my music and the art i make, thank you so much, i love you” You said, making well rehearsed words leave your mouth, you leave following the lady with the awards, numb.

The act seemed innocent and so quickly and random that nobody should have noted, but it set something, pieces clicking in place, for you felt illicit, scandalous, it ignited something that you have never let your body cave in, lust. A sin so impure that only thinking about it makes you flustered, but it only took a couple of glances, some brushes of skin and a hug for you to continue the seduction game he started. And you wanted him to win, to ditch all the circus and let him take you to the hotel, seeing him all in black contrasting with his soft creamy skin, a fallen angel.

Wanting to feel something, did you deserve the awards? Your music had moved so much from your original goal that you barely felt it was good. So you didn't feel proud, and you did not feel happy, or sad, or angry. You felt hungry, and tired.

How dare he be so cool? With the glinting earrings and the necklaces and the deep voice and side smile, a dream, you never thought he was just your type. Was it possible for you to have him? A quick internet research let you know his name, his position on the group and his age, he was a little over five years older than you, younger than your “exes” but so much different, he felt real, a real man, but at the same time he was surreal, to perfect, to gorgeous. And you wanted to know all about him.

You sit alone in the buffet of your hotel, with other people who also went to the awards, munching on a chicken salad with some delicious sauce and bread sticks and a glass of orange juice. Your orange juice, of course, was spiked with alcohol by your manager, a way to make you last giggly and awake for the rest of the night. Feeling already full with your second plate and with already a certain amount of alcohol in your system, you felt better, enough to keep looking at the table in front of you. Where 7 boy sit holding a camera laughing at one of them knocking the glass with the camera gummy smile boy who had, just like you, been looking at you smile with you and you hold the big stack of tissues at him, he walk to you and brushing fingers he take it from your hands “thanks” he said with a deep voice, one that you had already heard in his music videos but never compared to the real thing.

It took you 30 minutes to shower, dry your hair, put light makeup and a flowy black dress, that fall above your knees, do a quick google research of what to expect at losing your virginity and chugging the mini bottle of wine of your mini fridge, cleaning all of the clothes on the bed and quickly fix it. And when you thought that he wouldn't come a knock was heard. You look for the last time in the mirror and open the door.

And he was there, his hair now completely straight and soft looking and his face was bare, no necklace and simple cotton shirt and black cargo pants. Like he couldn't be more gorgeous. Oh wait, he could, looking at you with the damn smile. “Hi” you said, already losing the game “Hi”, deep voice and cute accent, you can't help but giggle, boozing alcohol in your veins.

“Please, please come in” You open the door all the way “ I´m y/n, by the way” you said and he looks at you, “I know, I´m Yoongi” he says laughing “I know” you respondHe lifted an eyebrow “you do?” he said with a smug smile, “of course i know, i'm not that dump to hook up with a guy i don't even know the name of” you widen your eyes and blame the alcohol by your blunt remark, but feel relieved when he laughs. He let you lead the way to the living room and when he sits on the couch he notices the object on the coffee table, an unopened copy of BTS 'latest album you had.

They said goodbye and you broke contact, gulping the last of your orange juice and immediately got replaced, you looked back at your manager and publicist, talking to their manager, using the translator that look flustered, and you knew why, after yourself had talked with your manager about your request, voice confident but cheeks flushed, your manager didn't even had to approach BTS manager before he was already on his way, at that you felt a weird feeling, a territorial frown in your eyes, but you couldn't blame him. Every celebrity you have met has done this. A simple deal, a way for celebrities to keep their affairs as private and publicly clean, both sides agreed to keep it quiet and not slip ups. When they finally look at you, turn again to him, his manager walking to him, and slipping a black plastic card. A key to the room to one of the suites. Your suite.

“I thought you could signed for me” you explained with a shy tone “I found it on the airport bookstore and since i kinda collect music album i thought it was a nice addition”

He grabbed it “can i open it?” he said with the cute accent, you nod excited and he carefully start to unwrap you sit by his side to get a better look, when he finished it, he looks at you

“it has a photocard” he explains and you giggle again at the way he pronounce the last word, feeling the warm feeling in your stomach and he send your favorite smile at you.He opens the book and stop at the page with the card stuck to it “It's random so is a surprise, go, turn it around” he gesture to the book, you grab it and turn it around,

“Oww” you let out a disappointed sound when you look at the man that clearly wasn't your Min Yoongi, he laughs and you pout “what can i do if i want one of you?” you ask with a distressed look. He dares to look flustered and he reach to his neck and the his hair, you wanted yours in its place, you licked your lips and look at lis face, “You could buy lots of album until mine come out” hmmm

“That's a good idea” his stare became intense and his eyes darken, his tongue brushed his bottom lip and someone must move forward because your lips replaced his tongue was now kissing his lips.

Your fingers grab his shirt while his palms was cupping your cheeks, thumb brushing against it, the darkest desires in your mind, the need to be touch to be taken care of,taking his hand in yours you put it on your thigh, where your dress had lift and he complied to your silent request, pushing the fabric up and caressing your skin, but not where you need it him.

You lean in the couch bringing him with you, but he pull from the kiss, leaving you gasping, “are you sure?” he ask, with his soft, dark eyes, lips swollen and flushed cheeks, you nod, but he shakes his head “are you sure?” he repeats, you think for a second looking at your giddy, boozy brain, “yes, i'm sure” you said with the most confident voice you could muster, he kiss you again and then its your turn to pull away from the kiss ”wait, wait, i, i haven't, i never have i ever before, i mean, i never had done this before” you confess and he looks at you still panting, he nods, and ask again “are you sure?” and you are.

He didn't let you lay in the couch.

He let you run your fingers through his torso and take his shirt off.

You let him pull down the strips of your dress.

He let you know how much he desires you.

You let him touch for the first time against the wall, making you see stars and blow away in a climax.

He takes to the bed, carrying like you were a leaf.

You let him stole sweet moans out of your mouth

He takes it slowly, touching skin like you were fine china.

You feel like a confident woman when you whisper “you are so gorgeous, I can say anything to your face.”

He lets a deep chuckle and gives a deep thrust making you scream of pleasure.

A mix of sloppy kisses, discreet love bites, nails against skin and pasional hip thrust between the sheets you let yourself think for a second that is not a one time thing, that euphoric feeling you were experimenting and that it was the most happy you had been in years was going to finish the moment he finish panting against your neck.

You tried to not look disappointed when he stood up and walked to the bathroom, closing your eyes, letting yourself feel the remnants of your climax.

He came back a few minutes later, cleaning between your legs and leaving a soft kiss in your thigh before slipping your underwear in its place, holding you in his arms.

You cried for the first time in front of a person.

He tells you that he knew you were hungry, he had felt it before. Not by his own choice.

You tell him about the empty feeling in your stage while on stage.

He kisses your face while rubbing circles in your back.

When the morning sun came up you watched his sleeping figure, his back up and belly down, face facing you and his arm around you.

You mindlessly start writing invisible letters, your name. Wishing he could be more than a stranger.

He lets you a note. His number. Breakfast. And a single pink flower and a book from the souvenir store “ The meaning of flowers”

Azalea

The azalea is the flower that ushers in springtime in the southern United States. That’s one reason it’s so closely associated with beauty and rebirth.

These blooms are often given as a symbolic message to, “Take care of yourself,” which is an important sentiment to extend to the bereaved.

Little-Known fact:

Azaleas are celebrated in festivals throughout the world, especially the U.S. and Asia. In Chinese culture, the azalea is known as the “thinking of home bush” and was immortalized in the poetry of a famous poet during the Tang dynasty.

HIIIIIIIIII

I FINISH THIS CHAPTER

It took years, but my mental health has been bad lately and also was hard to write the first meeting, if it look to rushed, dont worry its kinda the point, they are not in love but definetly know that they felt something. But they dont know each other, i like to think of them as soulmates.

We see how she was physically and mentaly hitting rock bottom and her team is not as innocent as it look.

If i was vague about everything, when the managers were talking, they were basically negociating the one night stand, that way the public wouldnt found out. A normal ocurrence in this AU.

Everything you feel courius about, please let me know.

Thank you so much for reading, i love you

#bts #bts smau #min yoongi #yoongi x reader #yoongi smau #bts fic #bts yoongi #bts social media au #bts social au #bts idol #bts jhope #bts namjoon #BTS jin #BTS jimin #bts taehyung #BTS jungkook #reputationminyoongi

144 notes · View notes

backtothefanfiction · 3 years

Text

WHAT BENNY DOESN’T KNOW | Chapter 2

A TRIPLE FRONTIER STORY

Summary: Santiago takes you home after Benny’s birthday drinks. Neither of you could have planned what happens next.

Warnings: Mature 18+ ONLY!! All aboard the smut train, next stop feels station. This chapter features strong language and scenes of a sexual nature, I’m talking watermelon sugar high (oral, female receiving), mentions of sex.

Word Count: 3950

A/N- Here’s chapter two featuring our boy Santiago Garcia. This is the event that kicks off this whole shit show. I had so much fun writing this and hope you enjoy reading it. As always, although I have read through this multiple times, I do a lot of my work in the early hours of the morning so some mistakes may have slipped through the cracks. Anyway... enjoy!

CHAPTER TWO | 3 YEARS AGO

“Ow Benny, you kicked me.” You shouted over the music of the bar that was blaring around you.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry.” Benny mumbled as he climbed back into the booth beside his brother, flinging his arm out to wrap around him, almost hitting him in the face. Everyone at the table watched as Will narrowly dodged his younger brothers fist. “Uhhgg this has been the best birthday ever.” Benny drunkenly shouted as he slumped against his brother's shoulder.

“I should probably get him home.” Will shouted over the music.

“Uhhh buzzkill.” Benny groaned, but he was beginning to lose consciousness and everybody laughed.

“Come on, I'll help you get him to the car.” Frankie said as he began to try and slide out of the booth. You felt the seat dip as he got up from where he'd been sat beside you. You slid into his spot allowing you and Santi, who had been squeezed up together with Fish on that side of the table, to spread out more. “Come on birthday boy.” Frankie said, reaching across the booth on the other side of the table to haul Benny up so Will could get out and they could all go.

You politely got up to give hugs and kisses on cheeks goodbye. Santiago slid across his seat so he could shake hands from a better position without actually having to get up. “You're such a lazy old man.” you teased him as he slid back into the booth allowing you to sit down again when your friends had gone.

“It's my knees.” He said in response. You also said his famous line at the same time, mimicking him and his usual answer you knew so well. “Seriously Querida?” he raised his eyebrows at you before giving you a playful jab in your side and making you giggle. You reached forward for your drink to take a sip of it through the straw, a playful look in your eyes.

Santi reached for his beer bottle he had been nursing most of the night in front of him. There was barely anything left. He knocked back the rest of it before slamming the empty bottle back onto the table. He watched you intently as you continued to sip on your drink, which was mostly just melted ice now. “You quite finished?” he asked you, his eyebrows motioning to the glass in your hand. “You want to get out of here?” you silently nodded your response and he grabbed your jacket from where it had been pushed up into the corner of the booth beside him. You took that as your queue to get up and he held out the jacket for you as he came to a stand, a small groan escaping from his lips as his knees finally stretched out after being sat for so long.

You turned your head back to him as you flicked your hair out, fixing the jacket collar with your fingers. You shot him a smile and he placed a protective hand at the small of your back as he lead you outside.

The air outside was crisp and made you giggly. “Come on giggles.” Santi said as you leant into him, his arm coming around you firmly, leading you towards his truck.

You kicked off your shoes, pulling your legs up onto the seat with you, getting comfy for the ride home. You watched Santiago walk around the front of the truck and climb into the drivers seat. “Really?” he questioned when he saw you.

“What? I took my shoes off.” he let out a low chuckle as he shook his head climbing into the truck.

As he pulled out of the parking lot he looked over to you. He could tell you were thinking about something but he wasn't sure what it was, he was about to ask you when you said, “Can we go back to yours? I'm not ready to go home yet.”

“Yeah, of course.” You were both silent again as you watched him take the next right towards his house instead of left towards your own.

------

The paving stones beneath your feet were cold as you climbed down from Santi's truck. You were feeling a little more sober now but you still couldn't muster up the energy to put your shoes on just to walk from the truck to his house. Santiago walked ahead of you up the path to open his front door. You slammed the passenger door shut and began making your way up the path. The trucks lights behind you flashed as Santiago hit the button on his keys to lock the doors and the truck made a small beep. You had been so distracted by your own thoughts, it made you jump, your shoes slipping out of your fingers, hitting the ground and a small yelp escaped your lips. Santiago turned to see your hand clutched over your chest and he chuckled. You picked up your shoes, throwing one at him. It missed, flying past his shoulder and in through the now open front door behind him.

“Don't laugh at me.” you whined sticking out your bottom lip as he let you pass him into the small house first.

“I'm sorry.” he said, his head tilting in mock sympathy, “I didn't realise that me locking my truck was so scary.”

“Uhhhhg noooo.” you whined as you made your way over to his sofa, falling back on it over the arm rest, your legs dangling over the side. You suddenly propped yourself up to look at him as he closed the front door. “Don't you dare tell the others.” your voice blurted out urgently in panic as he turned to face you.

“Sorry too late.” Santiago said reaching into his pocket for his phone.

“Santi NO!” you squealed, flying off the sofa, running to tackle the phone out of his hand. He mocked you by lifting it above his head so you couldn't reach it. You continued to laugh between fake noises of struggle as you played along. “Santi give me the phone.”

“Nope. Not happening.” he mocked, pushing your arms down with his free hand.

“Santi, give me the phone.”

“You want it, just take it.” he said, his hand never lowering. He laughed at you as you continued trying to stretch up for it. You even moved around to try and climb up his back to get it. He kept passing it between his hands away from your grasp.

You finally gave in with an exasperated grunt, stepping back, placing your arms across your chest. “Fine.”

“Fine?” he questioned, his eyebrows rising.

“Negotiation time.”

“Ahhh there it is.” he says going to take a seat on the arm rest of the sofa.

“What's it gonna take for you to not tell the boys.”

“Hmmmm....” he brought his hand up to his chin, playing along. You began to take a few steps towards him as he thought over his demands. “How about a kiss?” he said catching you off guard and making you stop in your tracks.

He watched as you thought it over. “Fine.” you quickly conceded and began to step forward to give him a quick peck.

“Uh, Uh, Uh.” he said holding a hand up in front of you to stop you. He could read you like a book. “A proper kiss. It has to last at least 7 seconds.”

“Why 7 seconds?”

“Dunno seems like a good enough time for a kiss to last. Any longer for a single kiss feels weird and any shorter, well that's just not a proper kiss.” You take a moment to think over his logic. You'd never kissed any of the guys before, not that you hadn't thought about it. I mean, they were gorgeous. You had just never considered any of them being interested in you back in that way. Then a thought came to you, 'was this Santi's way of making a move?' You shook the thought away, this was Santiago 'Pope' Garcia. This was just him being his usual charming self and doing whatever it took to get a rise out of you.

He raised his eyebrows as if to indicate he was waiting and you quickly checked yourself realising you were getting way too in your head about this. “Fine.” the word fell out of your mouth before you even realised what you had actually just agreed to. You took a final step forward closing the space between the two of you, your body reacting quickly, not giving you a chance to back out.

Your eyes followed him as he stood up, his hands finding a place on either side of your face. “Remember, 7 seconds querida, I'll be counting.” he raised his eyebrows at you. Your head gave a slight nod before he was guiding your lips towards his own. Your eyes closed instantly on contact and your body softened. His lips were soft, moulding against your own like little pillows. They were the perfect temperature, not too warm or too cold. You inhaled deeply through your nose wanting to take in his sent now he was so close and melt into it. You reached your hands up, letting them rest on his arm muscles for support.

Santiago felt you relax against his fingers, the corner of his mouth pulling up into a smile ever so slightly. His brain stopped keeping track after only 4 seconds. He moved his lips slightly, trying his luck, wanting to deepen the kiss. He inhaled through his nose triumphantly when your lips followed suit. His hands, either side of your face, became tenser as he pulled you even closer into the kiss, his lips and their movements becoming firmer. He almost lost it when a small gasp escaped your mouth.

He boldly took a step back, guiding you with his hands and lips as he pulled the two of you back towards the sofa. You both paused as the backs of his knees hit the couch cushion behind him. You broke the kiss, opening your eyes to look at him but didn't pull away. You bit your bottom lip slightly as you looked into his eyes, taking a moment. 7 seconds had clearly long passed, but the look in both your eyes was clear, neither of you wanted this to stop.

You boldly closed the distance between your lips again, the movement of your lips becoming more intentional as a slight tingle took over them. He let his knees give way and he pulled you on top of his lap onto the couch, your knees finding a place either side of his legs. You felt the tip of his tongue graze your bottom lip, asking for entry and the corners of your lips worked their way into a smile as you happily opened your lips wider, your own tongue coming out to meet his somewhere in the middle.

One of his hands came down to rest on your thigh, his fingertips grasping at the flesh at the edge of your skirt. A rush flowed through your body, ending with a flutter and warmth between your legs. Your body took over then as you slowly began to grind down onto him and his breathing hitched slightly in response. Your lips passionately fought one another for dominance as his hand worked its way up your thigh until it found a home on your ass, flicking the back of your skirt out over his knees. His grasp became firmer as he pulled you closer into him allowing you to feel his growing erection beneath you. You pulled your lips away to let out a gasp. Santi's lips never left your skin as he dragged them across your jaw before using his hand that was still placed at the side of your head, to tilt it back allowing him access to your neck as you breathed in quickly.

Your hands found a home around the back of his neck, your fingers carding through his hair. “Fuck querida.” he growled into your neck as you used your new hold to really grind down into him. You pulled back slightly and he looked up at you from your new position with hungry eyes. The hand he had still had at the side of your head, slid down your body to find a home on your other thigh, before it too worked its way up your leg and found a home on your other ass cheek. Your forehead rested against his as you both gazed into each others eyes, panting heavy, as he used his hands to continue to roll you against his erection.

Your breathing hitched and you let out a moan as the friction from his jeans rubbed against your clothed clit in just the right way. His lips latched back onto yours hungrily, stifling the noise. You could feel the heat between your legs rising, your vagina fluttering with stimulation. Santiago's fingers ghosted under the elastic of your underwear that covered your ass cheeks, pulling them apart, making you both aware of just how wet you'd become. Santi's lips pulled tight with a sneer, his hips rolling up to meet yours. “Fuck princessa, I want you so bad.” he snarled against your lips.

You're head rolled back in bliss as a response to his words and he began to attack your neck again, his teeth nibbling gently at the flesh before smoothing it over with his tongue and lips. You gasped. “You want it, just take it.” you repeated his own words from earlier back at him breathily.

“Fuck.” he exclaimed before reaching a hand to your face, forcing you to look at him. “You serious?” he asked questioningly. You sucked your lips into your mouth as you gave him a small nod, your eyes blown wide. “Fuck.” he mumbled again to himself before latching back onto your lips, the moment you had relaxed them again.

You felt the world suddenly shift as he lifted you up and flipped you around, sitting you on the couch. He removed his lips from your own, kissing down your jaw. Your head relaxed against the back of the sofa, your eyes closing in bliss, as he continued to move his lips down your neck. You felt him shift backwards as he knelt down on the floor in front of you, his hands finding a home on your hips as he buried his face into your chest. His teeth and lips nibbled and sucked at the flesh as his hands moved down from your hips, sliding down your thighs before moving up your skirt. He hooked his fingers around the waist band of your underwear and began pulling them down. He pulled his mouth away from your breasts. “I want to taste you querida.” he said as he removed your underwear from your legs.

You tilted your head down to watch him as he threw your underwear behind him, his now free hands moving back up your legs to lift up your dress. “Holy shit.” he said as he got a full look at your pussy already wet and ready for him. “Just when I didn't think you could get any more perfect.” he said leaning forward to nip at the inside of your thighs. He shifted his hands on your hips and pulled you closer to the edge of the sofa, closer to his waiting mouth. His breath was warm against your lips and you squirmed slightly in anticipation. It wasn't much, but it was enough for Santiago's grip on your hips to become firmer, holding you in place.

“Oh fuck.” you cried out as his tongue suddenly caught you by surprise, licking a stripe upwards through your folds, the tip of it flicking against your clit before he sucked it inbetween his lips. Your response made him growl deep in his throat, the vibrations passing through his lips, buzzing against the sensitive bud. You rolled your head back again as you let out a moan.

Santiago pulled away slightly, adjusting himself, before reattaching his mouth to your pussy again. “Oh my god.” you moaned, one hand coming to rest on his head, your fingers lacing between the curls, as his tongue continued to explore you.

You stayed like that for a few long minutes, Santiago only using his tongue to ravish you. His pressure and technique constantly changed, working you up slowly making your breathing heavy. Every now and again he'd pay extra attention to your clit, flicking it quickly with the tip of his tongue before once again sucking it in between his lips, over stimulating you just enough to make you squirm but never long enough for you to find any actual release. The third time he did that you decided you'd had enough. As he released your clit from his lips with a small pop you grabbed his curls tightly forcing him to look up at you. “Stop teasing me.” your voice was commanding. A shit eating grin spread out across his face and he let out a small chuckle.

“As you wish.” he raised his eyebrows, teasing you once more. You were about to bite back with another comment when you felt two of his fingers thrust into your wet core.

“Fuck.” you squealed, more than satisfied with finally having something to actually fill the aching hole. Santi chuckled again before licking your clit back into his mouth once more.

His fingers began to move agonisingly slowly as he gently stretched you out, his mouth still preferring to do the bulk of the work as his tongue focused on your clit. As he curled his fingers against the inside walls of your dripping cunt, he could sense you growing restless. Your breathing was getting shallower and your moans becoming ever more insistent as you felt him drawing your orgasm from you slowly. Santiago could feel you beginning to clench around his fingers and he began to move them faster. He pulled his head back, replacing his tongue with his thumb, circling it around your clit. “Come on baby, I want to see you fucking cum for me.” he said as he sat himself up on his knees.

You latched your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss. His fingers curled up into you even more as he adjusted their speed making you moan into his lips. You pulled your mouth away from his, pressing your forehead firmly against his own, panting furiously, your mouth hanging open, unable to form words. Your hips jerked and your pussy clamped around his fingers as your orgasm took over your entire body. “O-OH F-Fuck!” you stuttered out, finally finding your voice again and it made Santi grunt in satisfaction, a large smile breaking out over his face as he watched you come undone.

Santiago's fingers slowed slightly, helping you work through your release, his other hand pushing your hip further into the couch, holding you down, grounding you. Your lips found one another again as your heaving body attempted to relax once more. Santiago's fingers came to a stop completely, pulling out of you as he felt the final waves of your orgasm leave your body. “Fuck, that was so fucking beautiful.” he exhaled into your lips between kisses. “I have no idea what I did to deserve that, but I want to do it again.” he said his head slumping into your breasts and you giggled.

“I think that can be arranged.” you said playfully.

He lifted his head up to look at you again. “Right now?” he asked, tilting his head. A massive grin broke out over your face.

“Sure...” you started, “-but, not before I've taken care of you.” Santiago could have sworn he'd died and gone to heaven. He hung his head, grinning to himself as you climbed off the sofa and began making your way towards his bedroom. “Hey you coming or not?” you called back down the hall to him. God this was gonna be the best night of his life.

------------

You had woken up in Santiago's house the following morning to find yourself in bed alone. You used the extra space to stretch out your muscles after a long night of bliss. You smiled to yourself, the memory of the five orgasms Santiago Garcia had pulled from your body, still fresh in your mind. It had been a passionate night full of full body massages and cuddles between fucking. Both of you wanting to make the most of this moment, neither of you sure when you'd get the opportunity again. You both knew you were leaving the country on separate missions in a matter of days.

“Santi?” you called out into the quiet house. There was no response. You furrowed your brow as you climbed from the bed to search for him.

You picked up the clothes you had been wearing the night before and put them on as you padded barefoot around his house. “Santi?” you called out again. He wasn't there. You grumbled to yourself. “Unfucking believable.” you said as you searched the living room for your underwear. “I can't believe he'd just fuck and dash and leave me alone in his own fucking home.”

You found your jacket, searching the pockets for your phone to see if he'd even left you a message. Nothing. You began constructing a strongly worded text message when the sound of the front door unlocking behind you, made you turn around.

Santiago froze in the doorway at the sight of you in his living room. “Oh you're up.” he said. “I didn't want to wake you.” In his hand was a small tray with two cups of coffee in it and clutched desperately in his fingers below it was a large paper bag. “I didn't have anything in, so I popped up the road to grab us something to eat.” he continued, pulling his keys out of the door before kicking it shut with his foot.

You quickly pressed the backspace button on your phone, suddenly feeling foolish for thinking Santiago would treat you the way you thought he had. “You okay?” he asked as he made his way over to a small dining table to place the coffees and bag down.

“Uh, yeah.” you said blinking away the startled expression on your face. He held out one of the coffee cups for you and you tentatively stepped across the room to take it from him. “I'm sorry.” you said shaking your head. “I thought you'd...” your voice trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

“You know I'd never do that to you right?” he said, his eyebrows furrowed. “I mean even if last night hadn't been the best sex of my life.” he paused a moment as he searched your face. “You don't regret it do you?”

“No. No of course not.” you quickly said, feeling the need to defend yourself.

“Good.” he said, turning to reach into the paper bag. “You like croissants right?” he asked pulling one out and handing it to you.

“Yeah, I love croissants.” your voice was soft, a small smile breaking out on your face. You couldn't believe he remembered. “Uh hey Santi?”

“It's okay, I won't say anything to the boys about last night.”

“Thank you.”

Santiago had driven you home after breakfast. You laughed and joked the whole way home, never once talking out loud about the great night you had shared together, but you both kept it at the fore front of your minds, replaying it again and again.

----------------------------------

@icanbeyourjedi @theshiningharmony @darnitdraco @kesskirata @wyn-dixie @rosiefridayrogersunday @actual-spawn-of-satan @clydesducktape @asta-lily @honey-hi @heythere-mel @heidi-toevs @wigofokoye @choricenter @goodgriefitsawildworld @lostgirlheather @d0uwannkn0w @justdrawings101 @nicotinebirds @bisexualolympus @babyratt19 @cookiecat22 @peterhollandkait @a-bang-for-your-bucky @asta-lily @codenamewife @lazyunknownwerewolf @emmy626 @natura1phenomenon @fanfics-that-hit-my-feels @fangirl-316 @thisisthewaytofiction @rosiefridayrogersunday-reads @aficwhore @slayerx147

#triple frontier #triple frontier x reader #santiago garcia #santiago pope garcia #santiago garcia x reader #frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales x reader #will miller #william ironhead miller #will miller x reader #benny miller #what benny doesn’t know

157 notes · View notes

lunarmessenger · 3 years

Note

Hiya! Could I request the RFA (+ minor trio, if it isn't too much trouble) with an MC who gives neck kisses frequently? 👉👈 I am just. A simple soul with simple desires skfkek. Please and thank you💞

Of course you can sweetie! This is such a cute prompt!!! Sorry to everybody who I’ve kept waiting; I’m slowly gaining back my strength, so I should be back to writing soon! - luna xx

RFA + V, Saeran, and Vanderwood Reacts to an MC Who Gives Neck Kisses

Zen

• He loves it so much honestly

• The first time it happens you honestly caught him off guard

• You were both sitting on the couch watching one of his performances

• His arm was around your shoulders and your legs were in his lap, snuggled closely as he studied his moves

• “Honey~” You whispered nonchalantly, trying to catch his attention as he leaned forward slightly

• “One moment my sweet; I just want to make sure I don’t make the same mistake that I made here in my next performance.”

• You understood, but still huffed; all you wanted was to kiss him

• The two of you hadn’t gone all the way yet, so you always hesitated to kiss him in rather intimate spots like the neck or chest

• You loved doing neck kisses so honestly it’s been killing you

• With slight hesitation you leaned up, kissing his neck a couple of times

• His entire body becomes rigid and he freezes

• “Y-Y/N...”

• You did it again, giggling the second time as you noticed his neck and chest growing hot

• “Ah I see, so you’re doing it purposely then.” He smirked, turning off the TV and immediately pouncing on you

• You had to be careful when giving him neck kisses because it usually turned into something more after you’d finally went all the way~

Yoosung

• He’s such a blushy boy that when it came to your neck kisses, he just didn’t know how to cope

• When you’d first done it you’d been dating for only a couple of weeks

• It was mindless really, and you’d felt like giving him some affection so you figured; why not?

• “Yoosung; can we order in tonight? I think we both deserve a break, and I’ve been craving some hot pot~”

• “Sure! Let me just finish writing this paper and we’ll go.”

• You grinned and without thinking leaned in, placing a chaste kiss to his neck

• Never in his life had he turned red so fast, and when I say red I mean r e d

• “H-Hey! Don’t do that without warning...” He whined, placing one hand over his face to try to hide his blushing

• He’s literally so cute pleaSE

• You did it again, enjoying the way he squirmed at his desk as he groaned.

• “I’m never going to finish this paper if you keep that up, Y/N.”

• It had reached the point where he wouldn’t get turned on every single time, but it was still enough to make him blush

Jaehee

• She herself isn’t very affectionate, besides the occasional hugs and kisses that she shared with you in private

• So when you kissed her neck for the first time, she had frozen up with a deep blush

• The kiss wouldn’t leave her mind, she thought about it all day really

• When it became obvious that this was something that you did frequently?

• It was all she looked forward to

• “Y/N.”

• “Yes, Jaehee?”

• “May...may I possibly have another kiss?”

• This poor woman is touch starved omg

• You were happy to oblige, especially if it meant that you got to see her gentle smile every time you did it

• She wouldn’t allow you to do it in front of the others though due to her own embarrassment

• She’s also low key jealous but she’ll never admit that GJEJGEAHG

Jumin

• He’s actually a huge fan of the neck kisses

• He makes it known the first time that you do it, your lips softly grazing against his neck as the two of you sat in bed

• He was finishing some last minute paperwork while you silently read a book beside him, his glasses falling down the bridge of his nose as you tilted your head

• It had been a long day and you wanted to stay up with him but you were just so tired

• “Please don’t stay up if you’re tired, Y/N. Once I’m finished with this file, I will be ready for bed. I promise.”

• You yawned, a small smile gracing his face as you bookmarked your book

• “Okay Jumin. Goodnight, I love you~” And bloop you had kissed his neck

• He was still for a moment, his brain processing what happened as he gave another smile

• His eyes shifted towards you; you’d already fallen asleep, head resting against his arm as he chuckled.

• “Goodnight, Y/N.”

• Since then he’s been obsessed, demanding that you give him neck kisses every time he leaves for work, and when he comes home

• You happily oblige every time, the action becoming a little secret routine between the two of you

707

• He absolutely loves that you give frequent neck kisses

• Like Jaehee, he’s pretty touch starved

• So it’s super reassuring that whenever you’re cuddling, or hugging, or sitting in his lap

• You’ll just lean over and place a soft kiss to his neck

• It makes him feel loved, safe, and wanted

• When you’d first done it, you had fallen asleep on the sofa while he finished some work assigned by Jumin

• He didn’t want to wake you so he took you into his arms and carried you to your shared bedroom

• In your sleep you’d craned your neck up, kissing him softly on the neck as you mumbled

• “I love you...” You’d whispered, burrowing deeper into his chest as his breath hitched

• His heart felt warm, and he smiled down towards your sleeping figure, a hint of blush tinting his cheeks as he whispered back

• “I love you too, Y/N.”

• A flustered mess

• This poor man isn’t used to affection, but unlike the others he’s grown used to not having any

• So when you kiss his neck it’s like he malfunctions

• He stutters over his words and tries not to blush, even though it’s fairly obvious

• “I...wow. I um, I actually really liked, well, um—“

• You kinda liked having this much power over him to be honest lol

• He loves it when you kiss his neck, he just doesn’t know how to express it with his words

• He never stops you when you do it though, and you can see it in his eyes that he appreciates that it’s one of your ways that you show your affection for him

• “Jihyun~ I love you.”

• That phrase is usually followed by a neck kiss, his cheeks red as he nods and pulls you close

• “I love you more, Y/N. For the rest of my life.”

Saeran

• Love love, loves your neck kisses

• He returns them actually, and that in turn makes you extremely flustered

• When you’d done it he grinned, rubbing his nose against yours as he cuddled you close

• “My darling Y/N.”

• Then when you’d least expected it he’d done it back; very nonchalantly to be honest

• You were helping him in the garden, and you’d successfully cross bred a rose with him

• He was so happy and proud of you that he just couldn’t help it; he’d kissed your neck

• You blushed hard, but he wasn’t phased at all

• You honestly didn’t think you’d meet somebody who gave neck kisses as much as you did, but here he was

• It was a reminder that the two of you were definitely meant for each other

• It became one of the most frequent and common ways you showed your affection for one another

Vanderwood

• Like V, he isn’t used to affection so when you first do it to him he’s genuinely startled

• “H-Hey...who do you think you are?”

• Your partner duh lmao

• He’s very good at keeping a poker face, but his actions definitely give away the fact that he loves it

• The way he cranes his neck a little towards you when you’re cuddling him

• The way he lays his chin on top of your head to give you complete access to his neck

• It was obvious to you, and you happily obliged every time he silently asked for a neck kiss

• You could never get away with teasing him though; he shut it down before you could even start

• “You know love, if you enjoy my neck kisses all you have to do is say—“

• “Hush. I don’t have to say a damn thing, about anything, okay?”

• Translation?

• Please don’t ever stop

240 notes · View notes

tiesthatbind-tf · 3 years

Note

Question for Optimus and Megatron! Do you ever see yourselves reconciling in the future? At this point do you even want to?

The jagged edges of badly-healed scars and lines of age on the man’s face were thrown into clear relief by the soft blue glow of tablet in his hands as he studied the question proposed to him carefully. Unblinkingly.

It was two in the morning on a sleepless night amid a quiet week, and after a short prayer session and paperwork, an odd sense of melancholy had begun to creep in.

The rare moments of peace brought with them clarity to his thoughts that weren’t focused on missions, briefings and strategic discussions, and that clarity was, at times, a double-edged sword.

“Back when we used to meet each other at Maccadam’s every weekend, he would bring along this notebook filled with poetry and paragraphs of his thoughts about the state of the world. It wasn’t something he openly shared—miners wrote books yes, but mostly concerning their line of work,” Optimus finally spoke up after almost ten minutes of deliberating what he was going to say, and whether he should say it.

“On the day he left the Newham police station after being arrested for suspicion of inciting a riot, after he was brutalized by a rogue guard I had hired a few months ago... I found it.”

He had left the oak desk that was groaning under a stack of files, folders and documents that only increased as the days passed, long strides taking him to the bookshelf at the end of the room where the works of Thomas Aquinas were nestled carefully next to Imam Al-Bukhari’s. One book, much smaller than the rest, seemed out of place there however, and this was the one he pulled out.

“On the sidewalk.”

It was a woebegone-looking notebook, weathered by time with the edges of some pages crimped up by water damage, though it was clear that care had been taken to preserve it: The covers were wrapped in plastic, and not a single silverfish was to be seen scuttling away as Optimus opened it only to show the initials ‘M.T’ scribbled at the lower right corner of the first page.

“I thought he had dropped it and wanted to give it back to him. And with it, I wanted to apologize for everything—for not being there when it happened, for it happening in my station under my jurisdiction, for failing the promise I made to him twenty-eight years ago that I wanted to join law enforcement to protect everyone, not just those the system decided deserved protection—-but by the time I arrived at the mining community he worked at… they told me he’d been sent to Messatine.”

He closed the book before any demand for more of its contents could arise. They weren’t his to divulge.

“So I held on to this notebook for the better part of a decade. I memorized the words——some of them, I recited in front of the Senate the day I decided I was done being a part of their system. I hoped he would come home one day so I could return it to him in person. And he did!”

There was the ghost of a smile that crossed his features, which quickly shifted to a perplexed frown.

“But when I tried to give him back what was his, he told me to keep it or burn it—-he didn’t care for it any more. No point dwelling in the past, especially one he had grown beyond, was what he said. I took his words at face value back then… but when I think about it now? I wonder if it wasn’t him trying to bury what remained of the person he was before the Pits, before Messatine, before the night at my station. Before everything.”

The guilt was heavy in his tone as he sank down to the floor and leaned against the bookshelf; broad shoulders sagging under the weight of an invisible mantle and eyes glazed over in a thousand-yard stare for a moment.

“Do I want to reconcile our differences? Yes. More than anything. Because the boy I traded books with, the friend I shared a table with, and the man who wrote these words that opened my eyes ? I believe that man is still alive and that man is worth saving.”

He closed his own eyes for a moment and when they opened once more, the focus in his gaze seemed to have returned.

“Do I think it will happen? InsyaAllah, perhaps, but I would not stake the world on that reconciliation.”

___________________________________________________

The temperature in the empty war room felt like it had dropped several degrees as the Decepticon leader glared at the seeming-innocuous question as though it had come for his neck personally. Adam’s apple bobbing in a rare show of uncertainty and trepidation, he closed his eyes, steepled his fingers and exhaled harshly.

“I don’t… hate the man, if that is where the trajectory of your question is heading. He was my best friend, one of the few I would have trusted with my life. More heart than sense, foolish and naive and stubborn, but kind. To a fault,” Megatron uttered after a few minutes, his lips a thin and terse line as he thought about the matter a little deeper.

Another spell of silence fell upon the hall as he stood up and muttered an annoyed ‘tch’ at the part of him that saw it fit to indulge the inquiry at all before picking out a book from the glass-cased shelf in the back of the room.

“That is not to say the urge doesn’t arise from time to time. But every time that voice whispers venom and spite whenever I hear his name? I remember this.”

It landed on his paperwork with a dull thump; a hard-cover edition of ‘Umar Ibn Al-Khattab: His life and times’ which was, from first glance, well-kept save some light tatters on the book jacket.

A closer look at the book jacket however would reveal several brown specks which resembled dried blood.

“Thirty-two years ago, the sheltered child of a professor and a journalist threw this book over the fence dividing redlined districts to a nobody who simply voiced a fascination for what he was reading. Without prompt. ‘It’s a gift’ he said. A gift for someone he had spoken to for all of ten minutes. A gift for a new friend.”

The warlord who was greying earlier than most sank back into his seat with his hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling overhead.

“The nobody cherished it for approximately two days before the census team came by for an unannounced inspection, and lo behold they did find it, and the nobody was beaten within an inch of his life for the crime of possessing a book which wasn’t ‘approved’ for his class, and therefore could not belong to him.”

The scoffing disdain in his voice as he spoke of the abuse was replaced with a fierceness that would have made anyone listening take a step back, more so that his glare felt like it could burn right through the screen as he returned his attention to the person on the other end.

“But it did. Because it was a gift from a friend. And when that nobody became a rebel, and eventually a warlord who tore down the doors to the government’s archives for ‘Persons Of Interest’? He bled everybody in that basement like the stuck pigs they were until he found that little box with his name written on it, found this inside it, and then burned everything else to the ground.”

That would explain the drying blood on the cover of the book that he was now holding up, at the very least.

“This, and the books that were to come which that kind and foolish boy would toss over the fence, was when I realized how broken the system truly was, that I had to rely on this subterfuge for want of a better education. This was when I realized I wanted more than to live and die in the mines as my barcode dictated.”

The mounting anger in his tone seemed to suddenly cut off he opened his mouth only to close it swiftly, and when his tongue could finally form words again, they were noticeably softer than before.

“This was also when I realized that perhaps, I wasn’t alone in my outrage, in my boyhood fantasies for a better world. No one told that meddling idiot to make my fight his as well, but at eight-years-old, he decided he was going to do something about it to help me because he wanted to. And it’s hard to hate that earnestness.”

He closed his eyes for a moment before standing up with his hands clasped behind him, features obscured as he faced the wall with shoulders squared.

“Reconciliations are not out of the question. Truth be told, I do desire it. Whatever my past as a gladiator might have impressed upon you, believe me, I don’t enjoy the prospects of senselessy killing Autobots I have fought alongside for many years, back when we worked side by side against our common enemy. Terrible waste of genuinely good if not exceedingly foolish people, I would think.”

A curt professionalism had crept in now as he turned around and stroked his beard thoughtfully at the notion.

“However the matter should only be discussed after our movement’s primary objective has been achieved, and not a moment before. And if he and his merry men keep being an obstacle in my path?”

He smirked coldly.

“I can’t promise that the consequences won’t be dire.”

#Humanformers #MegOp #inbox #Ask A Character #tw: child harm

100 notes · View notes

ladydimitrescuspet · 3 years

Text

What About What I Want? Chapter 3

ao3 link! enjoy!

It'd been a few weeks since the whole baby thing had been brought up. In those few weeks you'd read every book on parenting and babies. You were almost done with a reread of one of the books when Alcina came into the library.

"Y/N, come with me for a second." Alcina said before slipping out of the room again.

You groaned and got up from your spot to follow her but when you got into the hallway you didn't see her. "She walks too fast." You mumbled to yourself. "Alci, which way did you go?" You asked. You got no reply so you went back into the library.

If Alcina really needed you she'd come back. You were right. A few minutes later Alcina popped back into the library, a frown on her face. She didn't say anything as she walked in and stood in front of you. You pretended that you were invested in your book for a while before she cleared her throat causing you to look up at her.

"You walk too fast." You said before looking back down at your book again. "But I promise to follow you this time if you carry me." You said.

Alcina rolled her eyes. "That's not considered following me, Y/N." Alcina replied. "I'm leaving now so I suggest you do the same if you'd like to keep up." Alcina said before turning around and heading towards the door.

You scrambled slightly so you wouldn't get left behind like last time. "Where are we going anyway?" You asked.

"Patience, Y/N, you'll see when we get there." Alcina replied. She was kind of excited take you wherever she was taking so you just nodded your head. The two of you stopped in front of a door and she turned around to face you. "Now, turn around." Alcina said.

You did as you were told and felt something cover your eyes. "Alci?" You asked, slightly nervous.

She let out a small chuckle. "Don't worry, Y/N, just stay calm." She said. You nodded your head again. Alcina leaned down and kissed the top of your head. "I hope you like this." Alcina said against your head before she guided you into the room that the door led to.

"I'm sure I will." You replied. Alcina liked that reply and you heard open the door.

"Surprise, my dear. You may open your eyes." Alcina said softly and you opened your eyes and let out a soft gasp.

You blinked back tears. "What's all this?" You asked.

"Well," Victoria, the oldest of the three sisters spoke. "Mother told us that you wanted to have a baby and we thought that we'd throw you a small part. I believe your people call it a baby shower?" She said, but it was in more of a question form.

You smiled and nodded your head. "Yes, that's, uh, what we call it. A baby shower." You replied, but then you frowned and turned towards Alcina. "But I'm not pregnant, Alci." You said.

She nodded her head. "I know, Y/N, but you will be." Alcina replied. "Think of it as a pre-baby shower. And then the baby making ceremony will happen, just between me and you." Alcina added that last part softly.

You nodded your head and turned your frown back into a smile. "Thank you, for this, really." You said.

"So, you're going to have a baby?" Daniela asked. You nodded your head. "And you're okay with this?" Daniela asked another question, this one directed at her mother.

"Of course, Daniela. I will always support Y/N's choices." Alcina replied and that made your heart melt a bit.

Elise walked up to you with a gift in her hand. "I made this for your baby. I hope you like it." Elisa said. She was the youngest out of the three.

You took the gift out of her hand but only got to hold it for a second before Alcina grabbed it and placed it on the table. "I was going to open that." You said with a slight pout.

"Presents after dinner, now sit." Alcina ordered and you obeyed. "Good girl." Alcina said and that made you blush a bit.

"So have you thought of any baby names?" Victoria asked. You shook your head. "Well, if you need any suggestion then you can always ask me. I have a ton of names floating around in my head." Victoria said.

"Thank you. I will definitely ask you for some." You replied. Your gaze found the eyes of Heisenberg who had yet to say anything. "How are you, Heisenberg?" You asked after the brief eye contact.

Heisenberg cleared his throat before replying. "I'm good, Y/N, thank you for asking. And how are you?" Heisenberg replied.

"I'm fine." You replied. And you were, kind of.

The five of you mostly ate dinner in silence. The only conversation was when someone asked someone else to pass them a bowl or a plate. You noticed that Alcina kept glancing at you as you played with your food. It wasn't that you were hungry, you were just kind of overwhelmed and tired. It'd been a long day for you and the thought of curling up in Alcina's big bed was the only thing you kept thinking about besides the baby.

You pushed your chair out a bit and stood up causing everybody to look up at you. "I, um, need to use the bathroom." You said sheepishly and quickly made your way out of the room and down the hall. You kept walking until you realised that you'd walked yourself all the way to your old room in the servants quarters. A room that wasn't assigned to you anymore and that you couldn't enter because, well, it belonged to one of the new maids now. You let out a deep breath and turned around. "Holy shit, Alci, you scared me." You didn't realise you were being followed by her.

"I'm sorry, dear, I was slightly worried about you. Are you alright?" Alcina asked as she walked over to where you were standing. You nodded your head. "You don't seem alright. Maybe you should go to bed? We can open your presents and do the ceremony tomorrow." Alcina suggested.

You liked that idea. A lot. You wanted to say yes to it, but you know how hard everybody worked to do something special for you and you at least wanted to see the party all the way through. "We can do presents tonight and the ceremony tomorrow?" You countered. Alcina seemed to mull it over before giving you and curt nod and picking you up. "Alci, I'm perfectly capable of walking." You say as you squirm in her arms.

Alcina frowned. "You always whine and beg me to pick you up and when I do, you just complain. I can never win with you, Y/N." Alcina said with a sigh. It was true. The girls always teased you about it, but you knew not to take the teasing to heart and would laugh alongside them. "Are you sure you're up for presents tonight? I have no idea what my daughters or Heisenberg got you, but do be careful when opening their gifts."

"Well, Elise said that she made her gift." You reply. Alcina hums in reply. "So what'd you get me?" You asked as your hands played with Alcinas necklace. You loved messing with it. It was so pretty and fit her perfectly.

Alcina shook her head. "I shan't ruin the surprise of my gift just because you're impatient, little one." Alcina said as she put you down so you two could get back to your party. "Presents and then it's bed time for Y/N." Alcina said as the two of you entered the room.

"Ooh, open mine first! Did I tell you I made it for you?" Elise asked as she handed you her present for the second time that night.

You took the present and this time Alcina did not take it from your hands. "You did. I'm excited to open it." You replied as you sat down and began opening the gift. "Wow, Elise, you made this?" You asked as you held the gift in front of you. It was a baby blanket.

"I did. I actually made you a few." Elise replied.

You smiled at her. "Well, thank you, I really appreciate it and I love it." You said. You turned to Alcina. "Isn't this cute, Alci?" You asked and she just nodded her head with a smile on her face before handing you the second gift, this one was from Daniela. You could tell she was still concerned about you, but you knew she was still trying to be happily engaged as you opened the gifts.

"Spoiler alert, but my gift is the best one here." Daniela said. "But don't open it right now."

You raised your eyebrow. "Why not?" You asked. Now you were nervous that it wasn't a gift and was more of a prank. Daniela just shook her head and you looked to Alcina who gave a small shrug. "Okay. But when can I open it?" You asked. You pushed the gift over to the side where the baby blanket Elise made was.

"After the baby making ceremony." Daniela replied. "You won't like it if you open it up beforehand, I swear."

You gave her a timid smile and grab the next gift from Alcina. "This is from you, right, Victoria?" You asked. The girl nods her head enthusiastically, she seemed to be rather excited about her gift. You shook the gift lightly and it made a small noise. "I wonder what it could be." You said to yourself quietly and you opened the gift. You let out a tiny gasp as your hand came up to your mouth.

"Do you like it?" Victoria asked. "I didn't really know what to give you and mother was little to no help so I, um, came up with the best idea I could." She said.

You really didn't know what to say as you stared at the gift. It was a painting. A painting of you and Alcina with the girls. The painting depicted the image of you cradling something but there was nothing in your arms. It caused you to frown for only a second before you were back to admiring how realistic the painting looked. "I love it, Victoria. I really don't know what else to say. It's amazing. I didn't know you could paint." You said.

Victoria shrugged. "Eh, it's not my best work, but I'm glad you love it." Victoria replied. "The empty space in your arms is so I can go back and paint the baby after its born. If you want me to." Victoria added.

You teared up a bit. "I would really like that, Victoria. Thank you." You said. She gave you a big smile, she was glad that you loved the painting. You look to Alcina expecting her to hand you a gift from Heisenberg but she didn't. "Oh, did you not bring a gift?" You asked as your eyes found Heisenberg's.

He grumbled something that caused Alcina to frown before standing up. "I got you this. It's a bassinet for the baby and then that's a stroller. You're welcome." Heisenberg said before sitting down.

"Thank you, Heisenberg, that was very thoughtful of you." You replied. Alcina spoke before you could thank everyone for the party and the gifts even though most of it had been a bit awkward.

"Y/N appreciates all of your gifts and the shower, but now it's time for bed. Say good night, darling." Alcina said before she headed out of the room. You quickly got up and told everybody good night before running to catch up to Alcina. "You really shouldn't run in the halls, my dear."

You rolled your eyes. "I wouldn't have to run if you didn't take such long strides. I tell you time and time again that I have shorter legs than you and I can only walk so fast, Alci. If you've got a problem with me running to catch up with you so I don't get lost in the hallways then by all means find a solution to it." You replied.

"I should have you sleep with the maid who now has your room for that tone, Y/N." Alcina threatened.

You laughed. "Ooh, am I proving too much for you to handle, Lady Dimitrescu?" You asked. You hadn't used her title all night, but now seemed like the perfect opportunity. You stopped walking when she stopped walking knowing that she was going to turn around so you made a quick run for it back to her room where you locked the door. You could hear the sound of her heels getting closer so you quickly sprayed on some of her perfume hoping that it would mask your scent as you ran to hide in her giant closet.

"Y/N?" Alcina called out sweetly but you knew it was a trap. You were surprised at how you managed to keep your heart rate down and breathing low as you heard her move around the room. "Now, where are you hiding, little one? Come out, come out wherever you are." She said in a sing-songy voice. You had to hold back your laughter. "My dear, if you're not within my sights in five seconds I will actually be forced to punish you and I know you don't want that." Her tone was serious, you could tell and you gulped. Was she actually being serious.

"One." She waited a moment to see if you would appear before saying the next number. "Two." Still nothing. "Y/N, I'm at three, do you really want me to get to five?" She asked out loud. Her voice seemed so close to your ears. "Four. If I find you before I get to five you're in big trouble, my dear." You gulped. She sounded like she meant business so you were quietly trying to make your way out from your hiding spot when you felt something touch you causing you to yelp and scramble out of the closet.

"Alci? Alci? There's something in the closet." You whimpered out as you climbed onto the bed and brought the covers to your face. Alcina didn't reply, she wasn't even in the room anymore. "Alcina, are you still in here?" You asked. You were scared but you didn't dare move from the bed as your eyes looked at the doorway that led to the closet. "Alcina, if that was you in the closet then it wasn't funny." You said, kind of yelling in the direction of the closet.

"And what will you do if it was?" Alcina whispered into your ear causing you to jump as you tried to get off the bed but just ended up tangling yourself up in the blankets. "Y/N, calm down. I'm sure whatever you felt in the closet was nothing more than a piece of clothing." Alcina said as she helped you untangle yourself from the covers

You frowned. "I know it was you." You muttered under your breath. You knew she heard you though, but you just put your head on your pillow, back facing Alcina. "Good night." You mumbled out as you closed your eyes.

Alcina made her way over to the other side of the bed and put her face right in front of yours. "Open your eyes right now, Y/N." She ordered and you reluctantly obeyed her. "Good girl. Now, tell Alci what's wrong." Alcina said as you sat up in the bed.

Alcina got in the bed and you realised that she was in her pyjamas and not the clothes she wore for the shower. "When did you change?" You asked.

"When I was looking for you. You're avoiding my question, Y/N." She replied and you let out a sigh.

You look at Alcina, your eyes meeting her gold coloured eyes. They were perhaps the most beautiful eyes that you'd ever seen. They could go from sweet and trusting to terrifying in a split second and that excited you. You chewed in your lip a bit as the two of you stared at each other. It was like you were trying to answer her question with saying the words and she was trying to pry the answer from you without having to repeat herself. You were the one that broke the eye contact when you looked down at your fingers playing with them as you contemplated how to answer her question. You knew Alcina was starting to get impatient with you.

"Listen, Y/N, I can't know what you need help with if you don't tell me." She said softly. You sniffled. "Is this about the baby?" Alcina asked and you nodded your head. "Okay. What about the baby? Do you not want to have one anymore?" She asked. You quickly lifted your head up, the expression on her face letting her know that you did still want a baby. Alcina sighed. "Y/N, dear, please talk to me."

You nodded your head and rubbed at your eyes a bit. "I want to do the ceremony tonight." You replied, it was a soft reply. You don't think Alcina heard you because her brows furrowed. You cleared your throat and repeated yourself. "I want to do the ceremony tonight. Please." You said, but you weren't looking at Alcina when you said it and your heart was pounding in your chest. You were scared to look at her. You were nervous. But you knew what you wanted and you had told her and that was the most important thing right now.

#lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x reader #resident evil #resident evil 8 #resident evil village

108 notes · View notes

nelavili · 3 years

Text

I'm still processing Season 6 and as an unpopular opinion I'm not too happy about it as a whole. I feel horrible for not enjoying it as much as the Cast/Crew would like me to, but I just can’t change this feeling I have.

Just to clear my head I'll write the things down that irked me. I don't want to start any discussion, they're only my thoughts on stuff ‘n thangs. Huge spoilers ahead, please don’t read if you haven’t watched.

Michael

I admit it, I have probably more sympathy for the bad twin than I should. And after the whole S5 I thought we get a bit more closure with him. I didn’t expect a redemption arc, after Michael killed Remiel, Dan and Chloe it would have felt wrong. But after the “Everyone deserves a second chance” the dude is down in hell, scrubbing the floor with a toothbrush. Really, Lucifer? That’s cruel after such a righteous line.

When Luci realized he could help everyone, even if he hated them, I hoped for a dive into the twins’ relationship but it was like Michael didn’t even existed anymore. And if someone needed therapy it would be the twin with the huge inferior complex. That could have been so interesting. (I had hoped that he'd sat on the couch at the end, but noooo we get the Frenchman.. such a disappointment.)

Maybe Tom Ellis didn’t want to play 2 roles again, or there was no time, but I feel that was a huge opportunity wasted.

What even was the plan of Michael? To get God to retire and wreck havoc on earth to get Dad back, so Mickey can take over as the new God? And then what? Wipe out humanity? I see no endgame here.

Ella

I liked Ella’s Story so far. But she stole the personal file of Carol and even broke into his house.. and everybody is cool with this? Carol might be crushing on Ella pretty hard but if somebody tells you they broke into your house, because they feared you were hiding something bad, You run for the hills. But the dude isn’t even phased.

I’m glad Carol is a good guy, though. Even if he’s kind of bland.

Ella finding out the truth on her own came out of nowhere. I would have found it better if they would have her act a little suspicious over the whole S5. But since they wrote S6 while S5 was shot, a little to late for this.

The scene at the wedding was amazing. I had so much fun with her outburst there.

Dan

Ghost!Dan was my favorite by far in this season. And I really liked how he wanted to help and tried to find out what he still felt guilty about.

I am so glad he got to spend his afterlife with Charlotte and I laughed so hard with the pudding. Didn’t expect that, in a positive matter. :D

The scene with Trixie killed me. Bawled so hard as soon as Kevin got teary eyes. That really gripped at my heartstrings.

But how could he go to heaven while in a body of a killer when his daughter stands right next to that killer?

Comedy-wise Dan is top notch

Trixie

I missed her so much.

It felt like she was an afterthought with everything. She recently lost her Dad and Chloe spends most of the time with Lucifer. I really missed the scenes with her and Luci, they always were so adorable.

They explain it later that she’s at a science camp, but I honestly thought Chloe chooses Lucifer (and later Rory too) over her.

She wasn’t at Chloe’s deathbed but here I’m not sure if the scene with Rory isn’t placed somewhere at the threshold to heaven where only celestials are able to enter. But if she wasn’t there because Chloe sidelined her in favor of Rory, then I can understand her absence.

Linda

I love Linda, she always gives good advice but nobody’s ever took it.

Her book probably would fly under the fantasy tag if she ever published it. Still, it felt cringey.

It was so sad that she thought she was a bad therapist.

Apparently she wants to keep helping celestials because it’s better than helping humans. In the end, celestials have the same problems as humans just on a bigger scale. But okay.

Amenadiel

Amenacop was good, and a nice nod to Dan who put in the application.

It made him realize that he only can change things when he has more power. I’m white and no american so I don’t know if the BLM theme there was well enough executed. Got me wondering.

The apocalypse just being Angels who are incompetent was a letdown. Like this whole season.

I really like him as god. And I am glad he took the position in the end. Even if he could have decided this a bit earlier.

Rory

I like her sarcasm and her character.

Didn’t like the whole time travel, time loop and daughter spiel. I’m not a big fan of time travels or couples getting a kid just for the sake of a happy end or to add extra drama. I could have lived without a Deckerstar baby. Instead they could have focused on Trixie for a change.

The time she spent with Lucifer on the 4th August was precious though.

How in hell did the Frenchman capture her? How did he even know how she looked? IIRC Dan hasn’t seen Rory while in that body. Dan just went over to Trixie that’s why I thought he’d capture her and not Rory.

Lucifer

He found his calling to help the souls in hell only because Rory traveled back in time? No man, he already took the step with Jimmy Barnes in preparation to take over as god. I don’t think it’s far fetched to believe that he would have the same epiphany without Rory there.

But without Rory, he wouldn’t have been helping Ghost!Dan to go to heaven. Though, before Rory traveled back in time, Lucifer was already trying to help Dan. They probably would have needed more time to figure out about what Dan felt guilty about, but figure it out anyways.

How did he even got Chloe pregnant? Was it his subconscious deciding he was ready to be a father? Amenadiel had to believe that he was human to get Linda pregnant. Or maybe it’s because they always thought they couldn’t impregnate a human and self-actualized it that way. Anyways, it’s a tiny hang-up I have with it.

Somebody else besides me thought that the scene in the panic room was awkwardly long? I know they thought Lucifer would vanish somehow, but it seemed too much to me.

His singsong while the magician talked about the trick. :D

I don’t want to even get into the whole time loop thing because I think it’s ridiculous(ly bad).

It took a lot of time for him to realize that he didn’t want to be god, after he put it on hold for a second time. Even Chloe could have asked him if that is really what he wanted. Could have spared us an episode or so. Why is the communication on this show so bad? Q.Q

I loved that he helped Maze with Eve to get the wedding back on after their fight.

He didn’t say goodbye to Trixie - again. What a nice step-devil..

It’s been Chloe, Rory and his family since he found out she’s his daughter. Not even mentioning the one kid who probably loved him before even Chloe fell for him.

For someone who is all about free will and led a rebellion against God for it, he was quick to accept that he has a “fate”. I thought he’d find another way, or at least try to. Nope, he just did what his child wanted. And they disguised it at his “choice”. Doesn’t look like a choice to me if your daughter begs you for it and you have to promise it. Just getting along with what your child wants.

Why does everyone need to shoot him? Just cut him until he bleeds. The Americans and their fixation on guns. Nice parallel to Chloe though.

Lucifer trying to fix the relationship to Rory with gifts was so cringey. I don’t know why but I couldn’t watch him sing/dance in that scene.

Both him and Amenadiel didn’t want to become like their Dad because of the reasons stated in S5, yet Lucifer exactly did. Another letdown.

Chloe

As soon as she knew Rory was her and Lucifer’s daughter it was all only about Lucifer and Rory. No thought of Trixie? I understand she was worried about being a bad mother to Rory, but come on, you’re being a bad mother to your first child right now.

She was ready to go to heaven with Lucifer. And Trixie does what exactly without her parents? Living with her Grandma because one of her parent died and the other one is abandoning her? It’s like the writers forgot about Trixie while forcing Rory on us.

The addiction to the necklace got old pretty fast.

And that whole fight against Lucifer felt unnecessary just to add more drama.

She gets mad at Lucifer for not telling her everything while not telling him that she went back to the LAPD. It’s Lucifer, he always has things on his plate. Double moral, pretty much.

She looked so gorgeous at the wedding, oh my god.

Most of the Deckerstar scenes were good. I got tired of the obvious naked cuddle times, surprisingly. Somehow it felt not like the ones in S5 and it bothered me.

I thought Chloe would finally get to know about everything Lucifer did for her, but I didn’t expect her to read it in Linda’s book. And that she only took away that he left her every time they had an emotional breakthrough.

They spend Lucifer’s last day at the beach and once again, no thought of Trixie. I’m sorry I repeat myself here so often. But this whole season wronged Trixie so much.

They face the baddie without any backup. At least get Amenadiel with you.

Other things

The use of music between scenes was too much for me. Got annoying at some point.

I appreciate that they wanted to show us snippets of past Deckerstar scenes but here too, I felt like it was too much.

Couldn’t really follow the timeline. Maybe it were the cuts.

What’s been the point of bringing Adam into the mix? Just to wrap up Maze and Eve’s story? For Linda having another celestial to therapy?

The animation in the Jimmy Barnes Hell loop was AMAZING. I laughed so hard.

I’m not saying that Deckerstar shouldn’t have sacrificed everything for the time loop to stay intact, I say that the whole daughter-time travel plot shouldn’t have had happened. They never even talked about having kids, and then ignore the whole existence of the one kid that’s already there.

I really need all the Michaella fanfics, please. My first ship that’s actually a raft, because they never officially have met. RIP lmao

The acting was great as usual, all my problems come from the writing and the plot.

In the end, I really feel frustrated, underwhelmed and disappointed by the whole season. I didn’t have high expectations other than the same writing quality like S5. My excitement for that Season died as soon as Rory told Lucifer that she’s his daughter, to be honest. I waited for a plot twist that never came. Then the whole time loop shit. I’d rather have waited one more year for S6 if the plot would have made more sense, since this felt like a first draft of a whole other show. And now I wished that S5 would have been the last season. If I could travel back in time, I’d rather not watch S6.

I can honestly live with the fact that Luci and Chloe are in hell, trying to help souls to get to heaven. (But hello, not the murderers perhaps? Or I want Michael sitting on that couch right now.) But the fact that both “chose” to sacrifice their time together with their family and friends just because it’s fate now and parents have to make sacrifices for their children; and anyways there’s an afterlife because (human) life is just a blip in our existence… nah thank you. I do not want it.

I’m probably not gonna rewatch S6 anytime soon.

#lucifer spoilers #lucifer s6 spoilers #lucifer netflix #deckerstar

22 notes · View notes

taeescript · 3 years

Text

II. Script of the Angel

𝔰𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰 >> This is the story of three very different people. A successful novelist, a blossoming artist and a dedicated cop. They seem to have nothing in common. Yet, they are continually drawn to each other. It is as if their fates have been intertwined. Written. That they must meet.

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 >> ft. jungkook and jimin primarily.

𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢 >> policeman!jimin, author!jungkook, painter!reader, serialkiller!XXX; a classic game of cat and mouse

𝔴/𝔠 >> 6.6k

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 >> mature themes depicted. due to the explicit nature of the topic (serial killers, murders, violence, sexual content, infidelity etc.) scenes are graphic. this is rated 18+. to spare storytelling: please consider yourself warned.

𝔞/𝔫 >> i’m so glad to see people enjoyed the last part! this part is a little shorter but i hope you guys enjoy it nonetheless. will likely be making a masterlist post for this soon as i’m having too much fun writing this and it’s getting long. feedback and comments always appreciated. as always, enjoy! (:

previous part || masterlist || next part

Muscles and bones. The primary architecture of the human body. It allows us to stand and walk; sit and run; jump and spin. But what really keeps us alive? Blood. It carries the nutrients our body needs. It carries the defenders our body requires. So integral to our survival, blood can tell a story of its own. Looking at the direction of travel along with the width and length of the spatter, a single droplet is its own author, spinning a tale of its origin and its birth. A good spatter gives us more information than just a large overlapping pool. “Come again?” Jimin says in disbelief. Taehyung shrugs. He is the unit’s spatter analyst. In one latex covered hand, he holds a cotton swab and the other is pinching his nose. “There are traces of blood everywhere,” he repeats. “Yet I don’t see a single stain of red anywhere,” Jimin rubs his temples, “Are you telling me that the killer had enough time to wipe the whole room clean?” “I’m only telling you what science has told me,” Taehyung says. He carefully dances around another coworker to reach his open kit. It shuts with a loud snap and the younger turns back to look at his commanding officer. “Can I please get back to the lab? This smell is killing me.” Jimin can only wave half-heartedly at him before turning his attention to the scene in front of him. It is eight in the morning. They had received an anonymous call about fifteen minutes ago describing a horrific murder. The station had forwarded the call to him and after hearing the detailed account, he left the station with his team. “Fuck me. What in the world happened here?” a new voice enters the scene. It is too much even for him to handle this early in the morning. Jimin utters a “you tell me”, then excuses himself from the room. He pushes past the crowding officers and curious residents until he reaches the front of the hotel. There, his stomach dislodges everything it can. Even as he wipes his mouth, the black spots do not cease dancing in front of his eyes. Deeper in his vision, the picture is all too clear. She hangs from the ceiling with her arms stretched wide. Her feet are wrapped together in rope and her body is naked. Attached behind are two massive wings. The feathers have been stitched carefully together to create an impressive wingspan and if they were not speared into her back, Jimin may have thought they were beautiful. Yet there they were, dug into her shoulder blades, ripping into her muscle and tissue. That was not the centerpiece of it all. Missing from the body were all its abdominal organs. They had been ripped out, cut out… forensics would tell him how they were taken out, but they were gone. Replaced inside her was a large bouquet of red roses. They glistened in the sunlight and when the team had arrived, there were still dew drops on its velvety petals. The grotesque memory causes his body to expel its contents again. “Boss,” the voice from before returns, “You alright?” Jimin turns to face his partner. Namjoon stands in front of him, a worried expression which contorts his face. Namjoon is one of his only friends at the work force, being the only one similar in age. The other agents were all much older than him so with common interests, the two were naturally drawn to each other. Jimin liked Namjoon well enough. He was smart and quick on his feet. More than once, Jimin had reached out to Namjoon for advice, whether it be for work or personal life. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Yeah, I wasn’t prepared to see that this early in the morning,” Jimin says. Namjoon nodded. He too has dark circles under his eyes and his lips were hardened into a thin, straight line. “Makes you imagine what a sick motherfucker could create this,” he comments. They stand in silence for a quick second until Namjoon speaks again, “What do you think we should do?” Jimin resumes his commanding role. “Take down the body. Have somebody sweep it thoroughly. Send a couple of the lab geeks in to scan the room. I want everything put into evidence, even if it’s a speck of dust. Everybody leaves something behind, and we will find it.” “What about the civilians? We’ve got a growing, curious crowd spreading like cancer.” “You’re Lieutenant. Do something about it,” Jimin light-heartedly teases Namjoon in his new role. Namjoon slightly flinches at the address. Although Namjoon had been promoted to a position higher than Jimin’s, Namjoon only ever treated him in the way they had always been working together: as partners. “Fuck me,” Namjoon curses with his favourite two words. Jimin grins. “Maybe later. I’ve got a shit ton of paperwork to get started back at the station. I’ll see you,” he pats his distracted friend’s shoulder. Taking a last scan of the building, Jimin strides towards his parked car. He is ready to hunt down the person who dared mess around in his town.

...

Jungkook watches the scene before him with mild interest. His ears pick up the voice of an officer that is instructing the crowd that everything is under control; to return to what they are doing without a worry. “What’s going on?” the housewife asks beside him. She is still in you pajamas and had seemed to wander out due to the hubbub. He smiles at her. “Murder.” She regards him with wide eyes. Her feet stumble backwards and she scurries away. The officer had finished his speech and the crowd was now dissipating. Jungkook took it as his cue to exit as well. As he walks out of the hotel, he feels vaguely irritated. At the end, his script is not perfectly carried out. He had needed to modify it slightly although the end result is what he had planned it to be. Even the timing of the police’s arrival after his call had been as he predicted. The world was too easy for him to guess. Now, it is time to return to Krystal. Even without using his vast knowledge of facial cues and body expressions, he knows exactly how she would react. Nostrils dilated, lower lid tensed, brows lowered and lower jaw jutting out. He reads her like a book and its title screamed “anger”. “Where were you all last night?” she questions, hands placed on her hips. He sighs while placing his jacket on the hanger at the entranceway. His feet ache as they pad across the tiles towards the bedroom. “I was out doing research. I told you yesterday,” he says. She bites her lip. When he walked past her, she could smell a faint hint of perfume mixed with a lemony clean scent like soap. Her jaws clench tighter. “Yes. But you had said you would be out late. You never said you’d be gone the entire night!” she follows him closely behind. He does not turn or wait for her. Once inside the bedroom, he throws off his shirt and pants, trudging to the showers. “Don’t you think you could have given me a call at least?” she asks. His figure is a faint silhouette through the shower curtain. She can see him scrubbing his face. She waits for him until the water is shut down and he steps out of the box. Water drips from his hair and his skin is still a flush pink from the heat. The room fills with steam and he brushes past her on the way out. Still, she relentlessly follows him. “Jeon Jungkook!” she calls out, “Say something!” He pulls out a new pair of boxers from the drawer and put them on. Once they snap against his waist, he turns to finally look at her. “I’m tired, and you’re annoying me. We’ll talk when I wake up,” he says. Tears sting her eyes but she cannot allow him to see any type of weakness. She whirls around on her heels and stalk out of the room, leaving him to himself. The door slams shut loudly behind her and makes his ears slightly ring. The sheets are cold and inviting on his body. The wrap around him like a silky cocoon and his eyes are heavy the instance he hits the pillow. There is only one last thing to do before he can allow his body to rest. With delicate fingers, he pries off the paper-thin gloves from his hands. They slide off smoothly and if there was an onlooker in the room at that moment, they would have been reminded of a snake that was shedding its skin. These are special gloves just for his hobbies. They disguise his hands so that they are void of fingertips. They are so lightweight he cannot feel them at all. They blend in with his body so perfectly, only the keenest of eyes would be able to notice the thin line above his wrist where the material ends. They are perfect for him and allow him to do what he does without a worry. He leaves the material out on the top of the drawer. He knows that Krystal would not be back in the room for a while so it is safe sitting there. They are like contact lenses, shriveling and drying up due to the exposure to air. In about fifteen minutes time, they would look like shrunken autumn leaves and be the size of a walnut. The room-keeper would find them if he had still not thrown them out, and discard them thinking they were candy wrappers. He lets his body drift into nothingness, content with the day’s work.

...

Besides having a good eye for detail, a coroner should be able to work under extremely stressful conditions. They could be asked to visit crime scenes, identify human remains or supervise the transportation of corpses. Working often behind the scenes, a coroner is an integral part to this unit. It is sad to say that we are low in numbers and are extremely interested in people joining our team! If you have taken subjects like biology, chemistry and forensics, in addition to law and humanities, we encourage you to apply to our graduate program! We would love to see you working beside us! Jimin’s eyes scan the announcement that has been placed on the door of the coroner’s office. He is scheduled for a meeting with the elder man on what may have been found and as a man of time, he is early for it. “Park! You’re here,” the coroner steps out of his office. He has patches of grey hair and a scruff of facial hair that he now scratches with his fingers. Dressed in his usual white lab coat, his black shoes peek out from beneath his pants and they lead the way towards the morgue. “How’s it going, Fernando?” Jimin greets back, “I see your wife has been feeding you well.” He eyes a popped button on the stomach of his coworker. Fernando laughs. It is loud and bounces off the white walls of the building. It is a laugh that is jolly and hearty; a strange sound to hear in the location they currently are. “Maria always has a full meal whenever I return home. I swear, she’s trying to fatten me up like the witch from Hansel and Gretel,” he chuckles. He and Maria, a linguistic analyst also working in the police force, had been married for years. They had invited nearly the whole station to their wedding and wanted to celebrate for another week before a case had dragged everyone back to work. The two turn a corner and the black door of the morgue greets their face. Fernando hands Jimin a pair of gloves and a mask before they enter the room. The body has already been laid on the table and labelled after Fernando’s inspection. ��I’ve already submitted the full report. You’ll find it on your desk by tomorrow morning,” Fernando speaks with a muffled voice due to the mask. The material itches Jimin’s nose and he wrinkles it. His fingers carefully pick up the sheet that covers the body and he scans the female underneath. “You know I like to see the victims personally for each case. Do you mind giving me an overview?” he asks. The other man shrugs. This is not the first case he’s worked with Jimin. While he was not a hard man to work with, he was extremely meticulous – borderline obsessive – in details to the point that it was tiring and burdensome. “No signs of struggles. She evidently took care of her body and skin; probably went to the gym in the times between work. Besides the large opening on her abdomen, the rest of her is intact.” “What is missing from her?” “Mainly her digestive system and portions of her excretory system. Everything within her ribcage has been preserved and unmoved.” “So nothing out of the ordinary then.” “Aside from the gaping hole? No. My best guess is that she knew her attacker. Or if she didn’t, then she at least didn’t sense any danger from him.” “What makes you say that?” “I found seminal fluid in her body.” This new information made Jimin turn his attention away from the body and back to Fernando. He had finished circling the table while mentally confirming everything Fernando had been saying. “You’re suggesting our killer may have had intercourse with our victim then?” “Jane Doe, technically,” Fernando inserted, “We haven’t made an ID on her quite yet.” Jimin waved the comment away. “Maybe,” Fernando recognized Jimin’s piercing look, “I sent a sample of it to the lab geeks. It could be from the killer or it might be from when she last had sex.” Jimin knew how long these types of analyses could take. He didn’t want to wait several weeks for results so he told Fernando to put a rush on it. Fernando stood wordlessly and watched Jimin as he continued to encircle the body. Every so often, his fingers would reach out and lightly tap a part of the body. With each tick the clock on the wall made, it seemed to drive its sound into Fernando’s skull. When he could not take the silence any longer, he let out a cough. At the sound, Jimin remembers that he is not alone in the room. It happened every time he got absorbed in a case. He would become trapped in his own world and forget everything that was around him. “Sorry, Fernando. I’m going to be here a little longer. You’re free to leave. I’ll read the report tomorrow morning and if I have any more questions, I’ll find you again,” he dismisses him. Fernando bows politely and exits the room. High cheekbones, full lips and a perky nose. She was attractive enough to gain a few extra glances when she had walked down the street. Was that how she got the attention of the killer? That would make sense to why he maintained her facial features and took out her organs. Perhaps it was an interpretation of keeping her beautiful exterior shell. It could also explain why a bouquet of flowers was put inside her. Jimin shook his head. He was thinking too much. Who knew what went on in the mind of a killer? Well, besides the killer themselves. He observes her face a while longer and notices that it is not as perfectly symmetrical as he had initially thought. In fact, her right cheek bulged out in a way similar to after a person had their wisdom teeth pulled out. Bringing the overhanging light towards the mouth of the girl, he shines the light inside. There were a couple of metal tools that were placed on a tray nearby and Jimin used this to pry inside her mouth. He pushes aside the meat of her cheeks and peers at the gums. There was nothing unusual there. Something continues to urge him to look further so he turns his head slightly and checks the inner cheek. Deep at the bottom of the valley where muscle meets gums, he notices markings that stand out from the normal. He is unable to make out what they are and so he pushes away the bright light. Opting for a smaller flashlight, he drops the piercing ray of light to where he had been looking before. Four squiggles. 2-0-something-1. Or was that an I? He rotates his head further. The originally illegible third Jimin becomes an A, and the two looks more like an S at this angle. If these were letters, then the second Jimin could potentially be an “O”. The last symbol was still inconclusive as it could be either a one or “I”. Consumed with his new finding, Jimin nearly forgets to record the new information. It is not until a few seconds later that he then whips out his cellular phone and snaps a picture of it. He cannot decipher whether the symbols could be anything more than letters and numbers so he peels off his mask and throws it with the gloves into the trash bin. As he walks out of the coroner’s building and back to the main station, a feeling continues to burn in his gut. His intuition is telling him that there is something oddly familiar with what he had just saw. It wasn’t the girl or the markings themselves, but rather the position he had found them in. He felt like he had seen something like this before. He scratches his head the entire way back until he sits at his desk. That is when he remembers.

...

The light takes him by surprise from the slight crack of his curtains. Warmth from the afternoon sun hits him directly at the eyes and its rays creates a band that gives him the illusion akin to Cyclops from X-Men. He stretches and feels his muscles straining from last night’s activities. With a roll of his neck, he bounces off the bed and throws his legs onto the floor. The cold from being out of his blankets send a shiver down his spine that makes him curl his toes. Everything is strangely quiet around him. He does not hear the clatter of plates nor the running of water. There are no soft paddings from footsteps. The world is silent. He grabs a shirt from his suitcase and throws it over his head, bringing a small bit of warmth to his body. With each step around their hotel room he sees nothing. Her clothing is gone as with it her toothbrush and shoes. In fact, her entire suitcase has disappeared. With miniscule curiosity he returns back to the bedroom and unplugs his charging phone. There is one unread message and he opens it. “I know you’re tired but I don’t think that’s an excuse for your outburst this morning. Regardless, I will respect your need for personal space. I’m flying back to LA. I’ll see you when you return. – Krystal” Her words are curt and straight-forward. He reads her frustration between the words but doesn’t carry it with him. He knows she is waiting for an apology but he is too engrossed with his newfound freedom. He had not planned for the research on this trip to be completed with such speed and so his return train ride was not scheduled until the day after tomorrow. She will have to wait. He had a whole city to walk and sights to see. She will be waiting regardless. Ever so slightly he forms a smile with his lips. He walks over to the curtains and throws them open, allowing all the sunlight to enter his room. It bounces off the white sheets and covers the rug. Dust particles float around after being stirred from their slumber. With a hand pressed against the window, Jungkook peers down from the height of the hotel. He watches the automobiles that zoom beneath his gaze and traces the pathway of each person that passes by. It is a good day.

...

Fingertips graze her lips with a type of tenderness that sends small vibrations through her entire body. He holds her gaze and she peers shyly into his half-moon eyes. A smile dances on his face while she caresses his face with tremoring hands. He grabs them and holds it in his own. “You’re shaking,” he says with a light teasing tone. She wants to pull away but he holds them only stronger. He traces the lines on her palms to soothe her, but it only makes her shake all the more. “Is this real?” the question brushes your mouth much like the autumn wind rustling through leaves. It falls from your lips and floats gently to reach his ears. “Do you want this be real?” he asks you. His eyes never leave you, starting from the top of you forehead to trace to the tip of your nose and finally landing on your cherry stained lips. You faintly hear the sound of laughter in the background and the pattering of feet running but you are only consumed by the man who sits in front of you. Your nod is but a slight shift of your head. He smiles at you and cups your face in the warmth of his hands. Pressing his lips affectionately on yours, you inhale and take in everything from him. “I love you, Y/N” he confesses with all of his heart. You can feel your heart tugging towards him as he stands and offers a hand. You take it and he lightly pulls you to his feet. A rush overcomes you and suddenly, he seems taller than you remember. You look down and sees him standing a few centimeters off the ground. Your brows furrow and you peer up at him again. He has turned and is now starting to run forward. “C’mon, let’s go!” he calls back towards you. You try to move your feet but they only propel you forward while he runs upward into the vast blue sky. “Hyun!” you cry, reaching out to him. He doesn’t seem to hear you but you see laughter bursting forth from his mouth. “You’ll have to run faster or you won’t catch up!” Pressing your feet firmly on the ground, you push off but gravity brings you back down. “Hyun, I can’t! I can’t get into the sky like you!” He has now risen further than ever, growing smaller in your vision. “C’mon, Y/N! Come fast, before you can’t catch up!” his voice is faint but you hear him calling to you. You run forward faster than ever but you are never able to leave the ground. Tears spill from the corner of your eyes in frustration at the fact that you are behind him. “Hyun, don’t leave me!” you scream between your sobbing, “Baekhyun!” Your dream is shattered at the sound of metal clattering to the floor. You are jolted awake and your heart bolts at the sudden sound. The metal can which held your wet paintbrushes were now spread across the floor after falling from the table. Your friend stands at the door with an embarrassed look on her face. “Sorry,” she says, bringing a finger from her forehead towards you in apology. You feel the rise in your heart rate. You conceal it by slowly getting up out of you seat and rolling you head to get rid of the kink. Together, both you and Min clean up the mess off the floor from where she had knocked over the art supplies. “Are you okay?” Min asks softly, not quite meeting your eyes as the two of you straighten out the other half completed canvases which balance precariously on the table. You blink in confusion, causing a tear to roll down your cheek. You reach up and brush it with your fingers. They return wet and tinged with green. You let out a small laugh. “I slept on paint again, didn’t I?” you muse. You and Min are standing at the art studio where you had spent all last night in. Your completed painting stands at the corner and Min walks over to it. Min tries to read what you are thinking, but the other has her head turned away. “You stayed here all night to complete this?” Min inspects the painting closer. It depicts a girl standing shyly in front of a boy against a background of red, pink and purple. The boy had his back towards the observer and he stood with his hands behind him holding a bouquet of flowers. The painting showed an innocent love between the two but when Min squinted her eyes, you noticed two circles that were put on the back of the coat the boy was wearing. Min raises an eyebrow and points it out to you. “Are those bullet holes?” You in the meantime had stood hypnotized in front of the painting. A strange feeling is stirring in your heart as you look at what you had painted. It brought forth the memory of Baekhyun standing in front of you with flowers after their first date. It led to the memory of your first shy kiss after. It made you remember the pain you felt from your dream. Another tear perches at the corner of your eye and you turn to brush it angrily away. Min is still standing in front of you, now watching you with concern. She could guess why you are crying and trying so hard to mask it. You had only ever shed tears for one person and this painting brought back the reminder that this person was no longer around you. “I’m not sure what that is,” you laughs nervously, “It was quite late last night. My mind does weird things when I am sleep deprived.” Without further explanation, you grab your bag and head out before any other memory can shake you. “I’m going home to shower,” you say without looking back, “Sorry about the mess of the studio. I’ll be back later to clean it.” Your last words choke and you escape before Min can see the tears that fall consciously down your cheeks this time.

...

3. 2. 1. Boom. Making the entrance of the century, the three horses gallop into the square where the three beings are strapped on. White. The stallion neighs and throws his head back, unsure of where to go next. But a loud snap makes it head to the right and it brings its hooves down on the ground. Its rider’s body has been punctured with holes and the smell that emits from it is horrendous. For the first horsemen is called Pestilence. Red. Its mane has been dipped in the blood of its enemy. It limps as the giant beast follows in step behind the stallion, a battle scar from its recent fight. His rider flails at a sharp right turn, causing the spear attached at the arm to clash with the helmet. For the second horsemen is called War. Black. The man is but naked, showing his skin pulled taut over the ribcage and bones. He carries the pair of scales with his stomach plastered on one end and the other tipped with bread. For the third horsemen is Famine, but this man can no longer fill his hunger seated upon the black horse. There is a final horseman. The fourth’s name is Death. But why does it need to exist, when it is so very much alive in the other three? Excerpt: Written - Three Horsemen Everything from his desk was moved into the presentation room that allowed him more space to work. Papers of the current case overlap with the papers from the older file. They are grouped in a way only the creator can understand and it is Jimin who stands before it. Picking at his lips with a hand, his foot taps rhythmically on the floor as he continues to scan what he has laid out in front of him. He knew something had been bothering him since he returned from the morgue. Now it was clear. He had remembered a case he had taken part of when he had been temporarily stationed in Los Angelos. The case had remained unsolved but the victim was similar to his Jane Doe. In that case, the man had TH3C scratched into the inner part of his cheek. Matching the picture he had taken earlier to the picture in the old file, they were even scratched in the same place. After digging around a little more, he found two other cases that were similar. It could be coincidence but if they were all related, this was not a simple kill any longer. They had a serial killer in their hands. However there is trouble with the cases. Besides the one he is holding, the other three are from Los Angeles. He technically no longer had any jurisdiction over them. Jimin was contemplating on calling up his colleague when his own phone interrupts his thought process. He answers the phone promptly. “Hello?” “Jimin?” your timid voice reaches his ears. His name uttered from you relaxes his tense shoulders. “Hey. What’s up?” He can hear shuffling from your side as you think about what to say. “I just wanted to call and see if you were okay. You didn’t return home last night.” “I went home for a bit but was called out pretty early for a case this morning. Wait, how did you know I didn’t go home?” “Ah… Well, I’m standing in front of your place right now.” “Why are you doing that?” He can basically hear your body language through the phone. You are gnawing on the inside of you cheek and probably tugging at your shirt, a habit you had when you were nervous. “I forgot my keys again. I thought that you might be home and I could use your shower.” Laughing at how sheepish your voice is, he says to you, “That tells me you slept over at the studio again. And very likely have paint on your face.” “Hey!” you huff, “I don’t wake up with paint on my face every single time!” “But you did this time, didn’t you?” he continues teasing you. You mutter something unintelligible, causing him to laugh at you again. “Unfortunately, I can’t step out of the office but if you don’t mind stopping over, I’ll hand you my keys.” You agree to his proposal and tell him that you’ll be there in twenty. Once their call ends, he chuckles silently to himself. You never seemed to change. When he and Baekhyun were roommates, there were multiple times he’d return home and find you standing outside their flat. You would tell him the same story of how you forgot your keys and of whether you could wash up at their place. And each and every time you would have a blotch of paint on you face where you had fallen asleep at the studio. He had teasingly got you face wash in a paint bottle for your birthday a long time ago as a joke. The last time he went over to your place, he had seen it standing in your room. His mind continues to wander to memories of his college days with Baekhyun and you until he is interrupted by Namjoon. “Whoah. What do you have going on here?” he asks, stepping towards the multitude of papers. Jimin takes this break to grab himself a new cup of coffee as the one sitting to the side had long since turned cold. “I was at the morgue earlier and discovered something strange. It reminded me of an old case,” he told Namjoon. Namjoon flipped through a couple of the pages but he was not as patient as Jimin to read through all the details. He scrunched up his nose and breezed past Jimin again. “I wanted to tell you we have a name for our Jane Doe,” Namjoon said, leaning against the doorframe. He is actually quite impressed at what Jimin has discovered in the span of the short time since they discovered the body this morning. Generally, he was impressed with how fast the department had gathered information. Perhaps as this was their biggest case in a while, the team as a whole was interested in solving it as soon as they can. “Sara Michel,” Namjoon continues on, “Female. 25. From Los Angeles. She’s a fine arts curator. She was in town for a meeting with the local museum about transferring a couple of new sculptures over. It’s been confirmed that the room we found her in this morning is the room her company booked for her while she was town.” “Los Angeles,” Jimin repeats. His eyes dart to the papers. Again, their neighbouring city is mentioned. “Yeah. What of it?” Namjoon picks up on Jimin’s sudden interest. He watches as the other walks over to the piles of paper and brings up a folder. “The old case I was talking about,” Jimin says, “It was from when I worked in LA last summer. A bit unusual that Ms. Michel is from there, don’t you think?” Namjoon scratches his chin. “Well, LA is a big city. And we’re only a train ride away….” Jimin shakes his head. “I don’t like it. Something weird is going on here.” Somebody outside the room yells out for Namjoon. He groans and Jimin throws him a sympathetic look. Jimin never told Namjoon, but before Namjoon was offered the promotion as lieutenant, Jimin had been approached by the captain. He had declined the position as he knew all the responsibilities that came with the new role. Besides, he enjoyed working as a detective; it allowed him hands-on access to all cases. “I’ll keep you updated on anything else I find,” Namjoon says as he turns to leave. Jimin replies, “Same here.” “Alright, well see you around. If I don’t get lost amongst all the conferences I have to start pulling…” his voice trails off as he exits with a dejected curve of his back.

...

“Hi,” your voice interrupts his nap. After Namjoon had left, Jimin had sat down at the desk fully planning to do some more research. However, his fatigue got the better of him and he ended up dozing off. He rubs his eyes sleepily and rises to greet you. You urge him to sit back down. You may have spent the night at the studio, but you looked more put together than he was. Dressed in the first pair of jeans he could find and an old tshirt, he was in a contrast to your outfit. You wore a pair of black and white polka-dotted overall shorts that you paired with a slim fit quarter sleeved shirt inside. A necklace hung around your neck, and you had thrown your hair into a messy bun. Tendrils of hair had fallen out, but it framed your face giving you an overall effortless but fresh look. Walking up to him, you sit gently at the edge of the table while he remains seated to your side. He gently reaches up and smudges the shadow of green paint on your face. “What a way to greet me,” you pout. He smiles at you, then yawns and stretches. Remembering why you had arrived, he rummages through his pocket and retrieves the key to his apartment for you. You thanked him for it and then rotate in your spot to take in the entire room. You were similar in this way, where the two of you had an eye for minute details. It intrigues you to see the pictures that had been laid out. It is true that they are morbid but being around Jimin all these years had made you accustomed to seeing images of a crime scene. “Are you going to be coming home tonight?” you ask him. Your back is still turned towards him as you walk up and study a picture up close. He walks up to you and stands behind. You were looking at the picture of the markings on one of the victims. “TH3C,” you whisper. “No,” his voice rumbles from behind you, “This case is pretty big. I’ll most likely be spending the night here.” You spin in your spot to face him again and your noses nearly touch. He stumbles and takes a step back at the close proximity. A frown starts to crease your forehead and you nervously chews on your fingernail. “What is it?” he sighs. It takes him a moment to gather himself while the scent of you lingers around him. “I feel bad that I’m barging into your place again,” you mumble, “What if I bring you dinner tonight?” “There’s no need. I’ll order take out from nearby. Besides, you’re always welcome at my place. It’s not a bother.” “Jimin…” He sighs, defeated. “Sure. I’ll wait for your meal.” You delightedly clap your hands together. “Perfect! I’ll make your favourite dish tonight! How does carbonara sound?” Nodding he feels the usual smile that appears around you on his face. It was strange. Before you came, he had nearly fainted with tiredness but now that you were here, it was like you had transferred you energy to him. “I’ll see you again tonight, then!” you quip animatedly. Taking his keys off the desk and into your pocket, you makes your way towards the door before stopping again. “TH,” you begin, “It makes me think of Three Horsemen.” “What’s that?” he asks you, distracted by the thought of delicious homemade food. “Three Horsemen. Remember the novel I was reading? It was just a random thought. And then maybe the number three for the third one? I don’t know what “C” would mean though. Perhaps it’s the horsemen from set C,” you continue to ramble on. You notice that Jimin is now staring at you with an intense gaze. You wave your hand in front of you, as if the simple action would cause you thoughts to magically disappear as well. “Forget what I said. I’m an artist,” you laugh nervously, “Besides if it was a set C, there would be a set B and A. And that would make… nine total kills. My mind is just overactive with the books I’m reading.” Jimin laughs nervously along with you. But inside, he mentally makes a note to investigate the possibility of what you have said, however miniscule that may be. You thank him once again for his hospitality and wave him good bye. When he is left alone again, he sinks back into his seat. It makes his bottom ache as he had been seated for a while, so he paces the room. Three Horsemen – Third Horsemen – Set C. TH3C. It wasn’t an unreasonable conclusion to draw. It was scary to imagine though. Eight other victims that were not found. His thoughts are interrupted once again when the phone in the room rings. Namjoon is on the other end when Jimin picks up. “We found a witness.”

...

next part

40 notes · View notes

leviiattacks · 3 years

Text

Two Faced | Chapter Eight

↳ levi ackerman, the very person who was about to kindly behead you by a surprising turn of events manages to become your loving husband? you would be elated if this was true love, but it’s all thanks to a mysterious magic spell that your life is spared, for now at least.

pairing :: duke!levi x duchess!reader genre :: royal au ??? (at this point idek) angst, fluff, slice of life etc ?? word count :: 4.8k author note :: i’ve been very ill so yeah, not the best writing but i really can’t go that long without wanting to write so i ended up writing an update, i hope you enjoy it, it’s longer than usual :D sorry for any mistakes it hasn’t been proof read at all :-( → next part coming soon!!

“Hey, newbie you haven't spoke about your home town much have ya?"

You lift your head, verifying Reiner's suspicions with a nod. You recall he's the same distasteful blonde brute who made those snide remarks about Hange. He must be at least a towering six foot if his shadow is able to cover the majority of the Sun's rays from hitting you.

You would maybe bother to give him and his inquiry more attention than you currently are if he hadn't been so unnecessarily impolite during the morning speeches.

Calves yelping in stinging pain from the first tastes of the full time training regime you simply cannot find the effort to strain your mind with small talk.

Temples throbbing it feels as if a sword has been forced through the side of your head, but that's not it at all. Reiner has thrown a small rock at you and you hear him chuckle under his breath.

Twisting your position so you face him you glare in displeasure.

Although you don't particularly enjoy the idea of joining Levi's unit and having to become a concealed agent of sorts you can't really take your pickings at how it is you wish to survive. You're going to have to deal with it and you've come to the stage of acceptance now.

However, you are not willing to respect the attitude some of these cadets are giving you, it's clear there's already a strong hierarchy in place.

Reiner just so happens to be one of the big guns from what you've been able to observe. He possess strong upper body strength and his hand to hand combat isn't a laughing matter either. That means he's higher up in the ladder of cadets, that's for sure. To top it all off you know you're not as powerful as other members in the team in terms of skill and he's probably silently making a mockery of you for it.

Pursing your lips you decide to play this game cautiously, asking him what it is he needs from you isn't the best option. You're aware he's after something, it's written all over his face. You practically know every deceptive look in the book off by heart. You suppose it's the only perk you got out of living in a noble household for most of your life.

"Why do you care?" You bluntly question him.

"Ohh, you're feisty. Might not want to butt heads with Annie."

"Not sure who that is but I don't plan on it."

Turning away from him it look like you're distracting yourself by collecting pieces of firewood. Trailing around you act as uncaring as possible to annoy him. You need to gauge this man's reaction somehow.

Your plan seems to be working in your favour because you're able to see his footing shift from his natural stance, it looks as if he's about to risk charging at you due to your vulnerable position but you rotate again offering him a knowing smile.

You don't tell him you're conscious of his suspicious nature but if he's quick witted enough he'll be able to figure out you aren't a threat and apparently don't have a clue what it is he's up to. The only reason he'd even consider attacking you would be if he saw you as an issue. For now your act should at least keep him at bay.

"Fine. I'll tell you about my hometown, I'm just..." You pause to make yourself look believable and proceed to look up at him through your lashes, you dart your gaze away and awkwardly scratch the back of your neck exuding coyness.

"I'm incredibly homesick. I miss mother. I always made supper for her, now I can only pray she's not eating burnt chicken." Your act has to be working because his eyes soften and he takes half of the firewood in your arms offering to help you carry it.

"My mum's a great cook, can't relate squirt."

"Who you calling squirt?" You playfully snap back.

"I call everybody that, even Captain Levi... Well, when he isn't around to hear it."

You bite the inside of your cheek at the mention of the Levi's name.

“So you and the Captain? What’s that all about?” His question makes no sense at all, one minute he wants to prod and poke in your personal home life yet the next minute he's asking questions about Levi. The doubts you have surrounding him only thicken.

You take a moment to consider his question,

“Whatever do you mean?” Clueless, you're delivery is excellent. Acting naive is easy enough, everyone within the corps has already decided that's what your automatic disposition is.

Reiner gives you a skeptical look then smiles faintly, “Glaring daggers at Jean after he got handsy with you?”

You cover your mouth with your free hand and laugh so hard the firewood nearly flies out of your grasp.

“Me and Jean are friends, and Levi? He just wanted to find a reason to get mad at us probably.” You hope the explanation suffices because you truly have no idea why Levi had done what he did.

Reiner hums in approval at your answer but he then grins.

“You on first name basis with the Captain?”

Fuck, you called him Levi.

Play it cool.

“Huh? When have I ever said his first name?” Clueless. Your delivery is still perfect.

“Just now.” He fires back, Reiner doesn't seem to be letting up but he doesn't know how smooth of a liar you are.

Living with your father for all those years conditioned you in ways you hadn't even noticed until quite recently.

“Did I? Pardon, I didn’t mean for it to slip out. Sometimes I silently curse him out in my head and forget to add his title.”

Your acting is impeccable, Reiner has no reason to doubt you. As you expect he doesn't instead he shifts the conversation to his hometown, just like you he doesn't explicitly mention a name. Reiner is sharp but he hasn't noticed the way you've left a name out just like him. He's terrible at catching out his own kind.

You decide at that moment that Reiner Braun is a liar. The accusation is more of a hunch meaning more investigation is required.

You won't inform any of the higher ups about it just yet.

The walk back to base is filled with excruciatingly troublesome small talk and you make a mental note to take Mikasa along with you next time it's your turn retrieve the firewood.

You can't afford any more close encounters with Braun or any of his possible accomplices.

Sniggers batter your ears as soon as you step foot onto the grounds, you have a sixth sense when it comes to spiteful bad-mouthing and after the abysmal day you've had you anticipate there will be unpleasant commentary.

"Seen the way Y/N ruined the assault course today?"

"We're the finalized cadets across all the regions of Paradis. That means we have to rely on that embarrassment to fight titans."

"Good Lord, someone have mercy on our souls."

Fellow cadets press on in their criticism thinking you aren't within earshot. That, or they purposefully aim for you to pay attention to the disapproval they have of your presence.

But, you do understand where they're coming from. You make another mental note - practice a bit more later today.

The gossiping isn't anything you're unfamiliar with, your father's palace never offered kindness to you or your existence. In fact it's rather comforting being talked badly about behind your back.

That statement sounds absurd but you can't explain it. Maybe it's due to Levi typically hurling his unnecessary remarks right at you without warning. Then again he does provide everyone with that treatment, even Commander Erwin.

As you hurry away increasing the distance between you and your loud mouthed team members you spot Levi from the corner of your eye. He's in conversation with Hange but you notice how his jaw is clenched in frustration, you feel a pinch over your skin when he spares you a fleeting look. Eyes acquainting yours. Paying no attention to him you walk away as fast as you can.

The cadets only blow up in volume now, they definitely want you to hear what they have to say.

"Maybe we should ask the higher ups to throw her ou-"

"Questioning authority? Pesky mutineers aren't you?" Levi's booming voice shakes anyone within a five metre vicinity, he comes out of nowhere and seems nothing short of furious.

"You're all," He continues, voice rising, "Incredibly spineless aren't you?"

One of the cadets embellishes their face with a scowl, it doesn't go unnoticed by Levi but he astonishingly doesn't lash out, physically at least. His deathly glare is more than enough to finish the job.

Stupidly you suffer feeling your heart palpitate in your chest watching him talk to the group of three. Stupidly, you're getting your hopes up again.

He scoffs coldly, "If you're all talk why not offer to duel her?"

It doesn't take long for your heart to stop throbbing with its previous intensity. You know it was too good to be true. Levi suddenly defending you that is.

The gesture isn't done to protect or shield you. No, you're sure this man loathes you and is intending to persist on making your life as bleak and dreary as possible.

"Up to a battle Y/N?" The unnamed blonde cadet's scoffs in derision and you find yourself wanting to punch her square in the jaw.

Irritation sears through you but you meekly shake your head mumbling a weak "No thanks.", you're much too afraid to duel anyone just yet and you don't remember her from the training sessions. She must have been in a corner keeping to herself.

With all that being said and done you pathetically withdraw, and just like the past few days you sense Levi's piercing gaze erupting into your soul.

The blistering Sun hits every nook and cranny of the training ground. Waking up early already has you wanting to pass out and the heat isn't any help.

The crowd of cadets mumble in fatigue but observant Mikasa jabs you in the shoulder pointing out how far away Jean has stood from you.

You feel guilty that Jean had to suffer through the humiliation tossed at him yesterday but you are grateful to not deal with his constant questioning and talkative self this early in the morning.

All the way at the other side of the throng of soldiers he stands with Bert, who might you add is a mammoth of a man.

Through some digging (more like asking Mikasa) you've discovered he's close with Reiner and the blonde cadet from yesterday's confrontation, turns out she's the Annie that Reiner warned you off.

"ATTENTION!" Hange sing songs at the front of the training ground. They're jumping around along with Squad Leader Mike checking if everyone's in the correct uniform - Apparently the year prior a cadet showed up wearing a thick cardigan and fainted from heat stroke...

“Today’s exercise is a time to redeem yourself!” Hange’s eyes dart towards you and you smile at one another.

“A FIGHT TO THE DEATH!”

Everyone murmurs looking at each other in pure confusion.

“A fight up against another person. Whoever wins their individual fights will receive extra special privileges." The explanation seems simple enough and you’re confident that if you’re put up against the right people you can make it out safe.

The promise of a reward is also enticing.

The 104th Training Corps are thrilled, there’s nothing too hazardous about the task and it’s nothing difficult to ask for. Even you’re looking forward to it. The chance to rescue your reputation has you pumped up with adrenaline.

“My, my my. Don’t excite yourselves just yet little hens, there’s a pretty little catch.” Hange's voice is laced in mischief. This can't be any good.

Everyone stops breathing in unison and it’s pin drop silent.

“You must cause harm to your opponent in some way. Whether it be making them faint, breaking an arm, breaking a leg. There are no rules when it comes to playing dirty!”

With a playful shrug of their shoulder Hange hops off the podium.

Squad Leader Mike pulls out the list of competitors. He’s decided the line-up on his own and begins the announcement with Bertholdt.

“BERTHOLDT HOOVER..."

Bert turns to look back at Reiner hesitantly and for such a giant it’s adorable how worried he is when everyone else is perturbed thinking about the poor individual who has to go up against him.

"AGAINST Y/N L/N!"

The crowd falls silent and your mouth is wide, this is unjust there’s no way this is allowed.

“Hey, don’t you think that’s kinda unfair?” Krista speaks out for you even though Ymir is by her side trying to talk her out of getting involved.

“She stands no chance against him.” Reiner is supporting your cause too.

Mikasa takes a step forward. “I agree, it’s not right, may I take her place instead?”

“No, no! It’s alright, I’ll go for it.”

Honestly you don’t want the corps to see you as a coward. Bravery and courage is what brought everyone here. Your story is different. You’re here to selfishly save your own life, you aren’t anywhere near as valiant as the rest of them. The very least you can do is partake in activities correctly.

Stepping up to the podium you stand by Bertholdt he gives you a pitiful look whilst he mutters an apology.

Mike continues announcing the names. A few include Jean against Mikasa (Jean may as well forfeit), Marco against Annie and Connie against Reiner - that pairing eases you. At least you aren't in this alone. You and Connie stand no chance against those beasts.

Everyone lines up in their separate areas and again Bertholdt is profusely apologizing asking if you want to fake faint or anything of the sort. You shake your head and promise to give it all you've got.

And then the games begin at the sound of the bell, and damn that Bertholdt because he isn't keeping to his end of the bargain. He lunges forward viciously aiming to crush your entire body but you swiftly dodge, he tries the same approach but when you duck out of the way again he stops knowing he needs to rethinks his strategy.

"Just give it up I'll win either way."

Well, the Mister nice guy act was definitely a believable performance. He was so convincing you even contemplated feigning unconsciousness when he proposed the idea to you.

Bertholdt is much slower than you giving you more time to deliberate your incoming moves. If you can get him to edge close enough to a nearby tree and deceive him into colliding with the oak trunk you should win - only on the condition that he passes out.

The scheme is far-fetched but it's your only hope.

Dashing from various corners he flies after you, each time unable to catch up to you.

That is until you stumble and lurch to the ground. The wind is knocked out of your lungs and you panic when a large hand clutches at your ankle. Your solution? Booting him right in the teeth.

However with an earth-shattering amount of force Hoover's hold on your ankle doesn't weaken. Instead he tightens his hold like a vice. You feel it bruise and the violet discoloration that'll be present in a few hours makes you wince.

Entire body going limp on command, you stop yourself from breathing - another talent you picked up back at the palace to avoid extra beatings.

When you no longer thrash around Bertholdt stalks in to check in on you and as expected he’s now towering over you, blood overflowing in terror.

"SQUAD LEADER HANGE, CAPTAIN LEVI SHE'S NOT MOVING!" He's roaring for their help frantic and anxious. If he's caused any permanent damage he's as good as dead meat.

"Oh my Lord. I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry."

Bertholdt's voice is fractured in unadulterated horror and judging by the direction you hear it at he has to be facing away from you.

Unbolting your eyes you learn your assumption is correct and despite hurried footsteps being within audible range you take your chance by the reigns.

Leaping to your feet and with no forewarning you swing your leg to the back of his neck. Stunned by the surprise attack he falls to his knees and you situate yourself in front of the oak tree you've been eyeing from the time the exercise began.

"You cunning bitch." Staggering back up he makes a swift rebound. At this point all mercy has left him and his one true aim is to completely pulverize you.

Everything is falling into place. All you need to do is wait for the right moment and finally you come across it when he suddenly pounces for you. Darting to the left you leave the space open for your prey.

Poor Bertholdt falls right into the palm of your hands like a rag doll. His momentum can't be controlled and he smashes headfirst into the trunk with a loud crunch sounding out. Bark splits and scrapes off the tree upon impact.

His head has to throb and you don't want to imagine how painful it is to feel the rivulets of soreness.

He doesn't get up and only groans, you feel half bad but after the tricks and antics he pulled you come to the conclusion that it's all deserved.

"Well, Y/N, you've proven yourself to be quite quick witted." Hange's praise is strange to hear but you beam proud that you've proven your worth.

"Oi, don't get ahead of yourself." Levi orders. "It could have been pure luck."

In spite of Levi's pessimism you bask in the glory of your win.

A week into joining Levi's unit you're becoming more accustomed to the new environment, in fact the gossiping and horrible rumours stop completely after your win and interactions with your fellow comrades feel easier and lighter.

You think the taunts will have only got more relentless after the duel fiasco but you suppose Annie chose to be considerate and take pity on you.

"Your progress has been remarkable so far." You jump when you hear Jean's deep voice appear right next to you.

Looking around to see if any other cadets are around you finally release a breath you didn't even know you were holding in.

"Ah. Thank you." You murmur quietly.

"I know it's been a week since I was scolded by the Captain but this won't count as flirting will it?"

Impeding the one sided conversation you're reflecting, you're not sure what exactly about. Probably whether or not you should maintain the discussion - if it can even be referred to as such.

Forget it. You know what they say, you only live once.

Flicking his forehead you roll your eyes, "We were never flirting he's just an over dramatic, bitter hag. I put my money on the fact he's never felt the touch of a woman before."

Jean's eyes widen in disbelief, you half expect he'll split open in tremendous laughter but he looks terrified. Then you become conscious of the fact he's not even staring at you, his eyes are engrossed by whatever is behind you.

Unfortunately for you your body tells you all you need to know. His cologne floods into your nostrils, you can't even reassure yourself and pretend it's anyone else, you know he's the only one who smells that strongly of fresh linen.

Being unable to see him doesn't stop you from imagining his dark lifeless eyes accompanying themselves with what is before them.

It doesn't even take Jean a minute to abandon you, he breaks out into an awkward smile, hurriedly pats your shoulder before dashing away, dispersing all the way to the other end of the hallway in a matter of seconds and turning the corner away from you.

Heart rate soaring you hesitantly spin on your heel. Levi's stood there, looking beyond unimpressed.

You intend to breeze past him, cool and collected. You take a step forward but God has never been one to bless you with luck, stumbling and tripping over thin air lands you flying.

Ready for impact you brace yourself but it never comes, instead solid hands are firmly placed at the small of your back steadying your position and your palms have unceremoniously landed atop his torso.

"Play along." Levi's voice is low and rumbling, and you can't look him in the eyes. Not out of fear or dread, more so exhaustion but you muster the energy to look to your left. There Erwin and Hange stand giggling to themselves like children. As quick as you spot them they vanish in the same fashion. It's as if they were never there.

You're worn out and fatigued wanting nothing more than a good night's rest. If there's one thing you haven't grown used to it's the lack of sleep.

"Let go." Moving to shift his hands away from your waist you halt your movements when he without warning lets go of you, not even giving you the opportunity to renovate your balance.

Flying to the ground and landing with a thud you rub your backside at the blow.

Mirthlessly chuckling the lack of amusement is clear in the way he composes himself.

Making a dash for it sounds tempting but you may as well let him have his way. There's no action you can take to avoid him reprimanding you. It's your fault for having the gall to make that crude and foul-mouthed comment in the first place.

You gulp comprehending the situation is even worse now since you really only said it for the sole reason of Kirstein's amusement.

"Y/N, I'd like to have a word with you."

Hesitantly you look up at Levi, he has an indecipherable expression on his face, it's been a while since you've last been left in his company alone.

The two of you are stood in his office, his desk is flooded with papers, they're haphazardly scattered all over the place and spikes of worry weirdly make them self present in your belly. This isn't right. He'd never leave his work space in this state.

"Are you okay?" You ask it because you’re sure he isn't.

His shoulders and spine stiffen. "Cut the crap and keep the formalities to yourself." He chides, most definitely defensive in his stance.

Without asking him you shuffle to his desk stacking the papers into organised piles, most of the documents are related to an up and coming expedition and it's all beginning to add up. Even humanities strongest soldier has moments where he cracks.

Then you notice your name on the formation plan but before you're able to make anything out of it Levi snatches it off his desk and away from you stuffing it into his pocket.

Without another sound he observes you cleaning the rest of the mess away but doesn't ask for you to stop. There's no reason for him to.

If you do this maybe he'll go easier on you, yeah that's what your motivation is. That's not exactly the truth, really you're just concerned about whatever has him worked up.

Placing the last document in its rightful place you want to give your mind a moment to recollect itself but Levi doesn't think the same.

He places his arms on either side of the desk, trapping you with no way out. Oddly, there's nothing threatening about him looking down at you this time, the greys and blues of his iris' captivate you.

"Do you enjoy making a mockery of your husband?" The question is whispered. It's unanticipated and the title of husband is uncharacteristic coming out of his mouth.

"It was just a joke." You mumble your answer under your breath.

"Would you have spouted that shit in front of the rest of the unit?"

Mildly shaking your head he then sighs. He’s not angry, he genuinely seems let down.

"Do you prefer him over me?” You swear you hear the faintest hint of self-doubt.

His questions are getting more out of the ordinary by the second and you’re waiting for him to crack a malevolent grin before he ridicules you like he always does.

“Of course I don’t prefer him over you.”

“Prove it.”

Tilting your head up towards him you have no idea what he wants for you to do or say, why does this suddenly even matter to him?

And then you imagine it happen, him digging his hands into your shoulders. Your weight along with his shifting up against the desk making it creak. Your mind details how he would kiss you agitatedly and you flush thinking about how you would feverishly return the favour.

It seems like your imagination predicts the future. He grips your jaw with his hand, his touch isn’t firm and for once it’s quite soft. Relishing in the new experience as he leans in you secure your eyes shut in expectation.

Stroking your cheek with his thumb the warm sensation that courses through your body is rather pleasant. His hands come out to run against your body, pinching the sides of your waist. The motion makes your heart stall for a second. Involuntarily, you find yourself leaning into him.

“This seem like a man who hasn’t felt the touch of a woman before?”

And just like that he leaves you hanging. You flutter your eyes open and there he is. He’s back, the same cynical man, smirk etched onto his features, his body still parallel to yours.

You find yourself enraged at how he's just lead and dragged you on, you should have stuck with your gut feeling and not given into temptation but you know what they say, curiosity killed the cat. It's very obvious who the cat is in this situation.

Brows furrowing you can’t face him ever again after the scalding embarrassment inhabits your abdomen.

"Going to cry, Cadet?" He's pushing all your buttons, eagerly choosing to provoke you.

The frustration you’ve been feeling fills you to the brim and you clamp down on your bottom lip. If you must turn to inflicting harm onto yourself just to muffle the sound of your whimpers you will.

“Did you need to do that?” You choke out your response feeling helpless, still not looking at him.

“Simply gave you a taste of your own medicine.”

Silence.

"Sometimes I wish you killed me back then."

Silver eyes become dark and he visibly flinches at your confession.

Still boxed in-between his arms you attempt to push past but he continues to obstruct the exit. He's not done yet.

"I gave you another chance at life." His blunt one-sided view is about to drive you crazy.

"Within my first day at this unit I had to avoid being attacked by another cadet in the forest if you call that a life I do-"

“Who?”

“Not important."

“If you know what's good for you, you'll spit it out."

For the sole purpose of irking him you heavily shake your head to emphasise your refusal to give in and name the culprit. It's not like you want Reiner to fall into trouble because of you. He hasn't shown any suspicious or out of the ordinary behaviour since then and you worry what Levi is capable of doing when given a reason to hurt someone.

Glancing at him dismissively you try to make your point again. "They haven't done anything since. Therefore, it's of no importance."

Conflicted emotions scurry over his face as he looks at you.

"It's of importance if my wif-" He growls and stops midway. His hands grip onto the desk even harder, knuckles turning white.

Was he about to say, wife?

Levi immediately realizes what he's nearly just said sounds exceedingly questionable. A look of uncertainty flashes over his face and then it seems he loses all regard for self-control. His willpower isn't enough to get him through this situation and he only amplifies.

Encroaching further into the very little space amongst the both of you his tone is icy. "Tell me." He's glowering and for Reiner's wellbeing you decide you should just come out with it now. He'll be in an even more difficult spot if you don't.

"Reiner, it was Reiner." You gasp out the answer, shallow breath ragged. Head turning away to the side you're not particularly sure why you're so shaky and why you feel a tremor flood past you inundating your movement. It may all be a combination of how close he's standing to you and how intoxicatingly strong his aura is.

Or, perhaps it's due to how he nearly referred to you as his wife during his primal outburst of anger.

He turns away. Automatically creating yet another blockade between the two of you.

"You're dismissed."

#levi #levi ackerman #aot #snk #attack on titan levi #attack on titan #levi x y/n #levi x reader #aot fanfiction #aot headcanons #duke levi #levi smut #levi angst #levi fluff #levi fanfiction #leviiattacks

96 notes · View notes

adhdeancas · 3 years

Text

Dean Winchester (and the script leaks last night) possessed me to write this.

Dean happens upon Chuck's latest book: Carry On. Except it ends differently than it really went, and the ending? It's really fucking bad.

tw: suicide mention, transphobia (quickly shut the fuck down)

Dean doesn’t make a habit of going to bookstores. Not because he hates books, contrary to what Sam might think; he just prefers to buy used books. There’s something comforting about a book that has already been worn and read over and over, that already shows how much the previous owner loved it. Plus, y’know, big corporations are evil and all that. And Dean only allows himself to overlook that when his stomach or his wallet wins over his hatred of the shitty mass-produced products.

This time it was Jack who won; he’s obsessed with this new fantasy series and the new book just came out, so there’s no way he can hunt it down on Ebay. He makes his way to the fantasy and sci-fi section, eyes roaming over the displays of new releases, and his eye catches on something that turns his blood cold.

“Supernatural: Carry On, The Final Book of the Winchesters’ Epic Journey” takes up a whole table, the generic and overly serious cover jeering out at him.

He storms over to the display, anger covering up for the way his body feels light as a feather and like lead all at once, and picks up a book. “Why is Sam always fucking shirtless?” he mutters, the only thought that allows itself from the mess inside his head to his mouth.

“Book sales.” A voice behind him says. He turns to see a teenager with their arms crossed over their work polo, pierced lip fixed into a customer-unfriendly frown.

“People want to see that?”

They snort, a small grin turning up the corner of their lips. It reminds Dean of Cas. “No. But that’s what advertisers think all ‘women’ want,” They use air quotes.

He raises an eyebrow and asks. “Women?”

They shrug and uncross their arms, leaning back against the display table behind them. Their nametag says Jadyn. “Supernatural’s biggest block of readers is queer. I’d go out on a limb and say a lot of those the marketers think of as ‘women’ aren’t, or if they are, they aren’t itching to see Sam’s six pack.” Jadyn smirks.

Dean takes a second to digest that, then grins down at the book, thinking past Sam’s apparently badly-received nudity now. “So how’d they like it?” he asks, waving the book a bit and looking up at Jadyn. Apparently they know a lot about the fans of the books, and for once, he’s proud of the way the story ended.

Jadyn’s face sets into all hard lines. “Most people fucking hated it.” they say bluntly, then, probably remembering that he’s a customer, correct. “Sorry. I mean, it got some good reviews, mostly from people who like Wincest, but beyond that, it had some problematic plot points.”

Dean winces at the reminder of the ship between him and his brother, then scrunches his whole face together in confusion. “Wait, what? Why?” Why would Wincest fans like it? What was problematic about their end?

Jadyn shifts from foot to foot. “I don’t wanna spoil anything for you-”

“I don’t care about spoilers, just give me the short version.” Dean says quickly. A quiet panic is rising in him, and suddenly he has a horrible feeling that he’s not holding the truth in his hands anymore.

“Uh, okay… Well, the most obvious thing is the bury-your-gays thing, then there’s the fact that it completely contradicted the rest of the lore. And it was ableist, misogynistic, and messed up, like, every character’s arc.” they take a breath, clearly worked up by it. “Even if they changed any of the details too, it was all built on Dean’s death, and that’s just bullshit. Sorry.” they apologize again, apparently mistaking Dean’s stricken expression to be in reaction to their rant and swearing.

“No, nah, you’re… you’re okay. Uh, thanks.” he waves a hand and wanders away from them, only remembering Jack’s book when he’s almost to the register. He manages to make his way back and find the damn thing, but he’s still in a fog when he gets to the register.

“Did anyone help you in the store today?”

“Huh?” he looks up and meets the middle-aged cashier’s gaze for the first time. Brent, from the nametag, looks at him impatiently. “Oh, yeah, uh… Jadyn. Jadyn helped me.” Brent scoffs and starts typing with a shake of the head. “Uh, is there a problem?” Dean asks, a little annoyed at this cashier’s unnecessary attitude. He usually doesn’t care if an employee’s rude, because they have to deal with assholes all the time and honestly Dean isn’t much better, but this one gives him a bad feeling.

“No, no, sorry. It’s just - “Jadyn’s” got this idea that he’s a girl. Makes everybody call him that name now too. Just-” Brent shakes his head. “I mean, you get it. Their generation, everybody wants to be special.”

Dean glares. “No, I don’t get it, Brent.” He says through gritted teeth. “Seems to me like Jadyn probably deals with enough assholes like you that her asking for a little basic decency is the exact opposite of special. Sounds pretty normal, actually.” He can see the fear creep into Brent’s eyes, and he knows the cashier is reacting to the murderous look in his eyes more than his actual words.

Brent hands Dean his bag of books with a quiet, “Here you go.”

Dean snatches it away. “Oh, Brent?” he checks over his shoulder to make sure they’re alone and then leans across the counter into Brent’s space. “You should find a new job, one where you don’t have to interact with other people. At least until you learn how to stop being a piece of shit.” He starts to ease away but thinks better about it. “And if you think that’s a suggestion, it’s not. My husband likes this book coming out next month that I’ll need to buy, and if I see you here when I come, well… it would be really embarrassing for you to tell all your little friends that you got your ass beat by a ‘special’ guy, huh?” He pats Brent on the cheek condescendingly and leaves with a huff.

Damn transphobes.

He only remembers the book once he’s back in Baby, and he takes the time to drive out of town before he pulls over to read it. It’s an old abandoned church, the cross long since fallen from the roof and the doors hanging off their hinges. He sits on the steps just because being in Baby seems claustrophobic for once in his life, and going back to the bunker to look at this is just… not happening.

Dean only skims the beginning to see that it starts the same. The ground erupting with bodies, hell spitting out its most-conveniently placed nasties, Rowena sacrificing herself, Cas leaving. His throat closes up at that, at Chuck’s description of Cas’s heartbroken expression as he climbs the stairs of the bunker. He clears his throat and skips to the end, right past Cas’s death that he doesn’t have the time to think about right now, past them defeating Chuck and then stops. He goes back a few pages, trying to find the disconnect.

The story’s different.

After Jack takes on God’s power, in the book, he’s totally fine. Not almost vibrating out of his skin or anything, not crying like the three year old he is because he’s scared. Not like it really happened. He just smiles and leaves him and Sam, and they let him go.

Dean scoffs, skimming over the story as it just gets more ridiculous.

In the book, he doesn’t even try to save Cas. They barely even mention him. And they never mention Eileen, either. In fact, Dean notes disbelievingly, practically the only characters in the last few chapters are him and Sam. They’re hunting again.

“What, is Chuck trying to keep the series going?” he whispers to himself, anger flaring through him. They let Chuck live, and he decided to write obnoxious fanfiction about them? He’s gonna kill that shameless little fucker. For real, this time. He deserves it.

In the book, Sam and Dean torture some vampire mime, and they enjoy it. Dean cringes; this is really what Chuck thinks of them. Then they tussle with more vamps in a barn and-

Dean’s brain stops working. He rereads the scene again and again.

“There’s something in my… something in my back. It feels like it’s right through me.”

Dean Winchester dies in a dirty barn, on a piece of freaking rebar.

More than that, Dean realizes on his fourth read-through. This Dean? He tried to drag out his speech, Dean can tell by the way he pauses for fucking drama. He would never do that. He would never talk to Sam for fifteen hellish minutes when he could be trying. Trying to live, so he can actually get his life back on track, get his family back. No, he made that speech stalling. He made that speech so Sam wouldn’t try to save him.

“You gotta admit, I had one helluva ride.” He was strangely calm.

Chuck made him kill himself.

Dean reads the rest of the book through blurry eyes, reading an ambiguous and nothing-ending, one where he’s somehow happy to be dead and driving around in heaven alone while Sam raises a kid into hunting and cries about Dean decades after he’s died. Eileen isn’t mentioned. Cas is mentioned once, and Bizzarro-Dean doesn’t even think about seeing him, apparently. The whole book ends with a hug between him and Sam, both dead. Both alone.

Dean rips the ending up. He tears through the stupid paper covering and keeps ripping the pages up until they’re the size of confetti. His lower lip wobbles. He throws the whole thing against the side of the building, and it tumbles through the broken doorway and drops into a pile of dust and dirt. “That isn’t the fucking ending.” he grounds out, knocking his hand against the flimsy handrail. It gives a little under his fist and he kicks at it. “That isn’t the fucking ending!”

He’s having a panic attack. Again. He tries to take deep breaths, but they’re gulping, too big, they’re making him panic more. He scrambles back to Baby and grabs his phone, presses the first number on his favorites list and waits for him to answer on speaker phone.

“Hey Dean, what’s up?” Sam sounds like he’s been laughing. There are voices in the background, and Dean tries to convince himself one of them is Eileen.

“Hey Sammy.” he chokes out, trying to sound normal. “You busy?”

There’s a pause, and then the sounds in the background. “Nah, Rowena’s just over.” he says casually.

“So those voices in the background were-”

“Rowena and Eileen, yeah. They’re trying to convince me we need to go to Mexico. For the beaches.” A smile in his voice. Dean lets out a sigh of relief. What’s up, Dean? You need something?” The smile drops, and Sam’s worried.

Sam’s okay. Sam’s okay. “No, nah. Hey, you heard from Donna lately?” Dean just needs to triple-check.

“Uh, no, not since Sunday dinner… Dean, you okay?”

“Yeah, she just- she hasn’t been answering my texts. Just wanted to make sure.” Dean lies quickly. His breathing is still uneven, but his body is settling into uneven shakes.

Sam sounds skeptical. “Yeah, well, she did tell us it’s been pretty busy at work lately. Y’know, everybody going out for the first time with COVID, getting stupid. Plus, y’know, nowhere’s drowning in EMTs right now.”

“Right. Yeah.” Dean takes a deep breath, a distant memory of Donna talking about that coming back to him.

“Pretty sure you were setting up a D&D session with Charlie while she was talking about that,” Sam laughs. Dean knows he means it as a subtle jab, but there’s too much relief flooding through him to care. Still, a string is pulled taut in him, and Sam can’t fix that completely.

“Gotta go, Sam,” Dean hangs up before Sam can say anything else, and goes to his next contact. It rings for far too long, and Dean’s heartbeat picks back up to thundering.

“Hello, Dean.”

“Cas,” Dean breathes out. “Cas, you know I love you, right?” He needs to test all the bounds of this, to make sure, just to make sure. Make sure Chuck isn’t still fucking with him. Because apparently, Chuck won’t let him be queer. Not in his story. Not out loud.

He can hear Cas’s eyebrow raise through the phone, and his chest is overcome with stupid fondness. “I would be a little worried if you didn’t.”

Dean grins widely. “Like, romantically. I’m in love with you. Because you’re the love of my life and I’m bisexual.” He says it all like it’s a checklist, like he expects some cosmic being to slap a hand over his mouth before he gets each next phrase out.

“Yes, Dean. We’ve been married almost two months.” Cas is smiling. It happens everytime he talks about their wedding. Dean adores it. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, now it is.” His whole body relaxes, still vibrating with leftover panic, but satisfied. “I got Jack’s book.”

“Oh, good. He’ll be so pleased.” Cas pauses. “Dean, are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah.” Dean eases off the ground and sends a last look at the dilapidated church before climbing into Baby. “Just- read a bad book. I’ll tell you about it later. When I get home.”

#i fixed it #god fucking damn it #dean winchester #destiel #saileen #saileena #sam winchester #castiel #eileen leahy #castiel winchester #jack kline #roweena #my writing #ficlet #deancas #trans dean #trans woman OC #tw: transphobia #tw: suicide mention

66 notes · View notes