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bunnys-kisses · 4 months ago

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my little mechanic

torger "toto" wolff

cw: smut/pwp, age gap (20s/50s), possessive old man toto, pretty young thing reader, missionary, breeding/pregnancy, merchanic!reader, hickies/bruises,

bunny says: i have no words, no apologies. (it is my birthday so you can't get mad!)

well weren't you just the cutest little mechanic for mercedes. in your coveralls and backwards hat as you quickly changed tires in the middle of a race or work on them after the race.

you were always running around, lifting all matter of objects around from point a to point b. it made it quite hard for toto to really get a good look at you.

the first time you formally met you were standing in the paddock, with your hands on your hips and your foot nervously tapping. your forehead was scrunched up.

you weren't even looking at him when he spoke to you. you said, "yes, uh-huh. listen, i need to find some parts." then you looked up at him and your mouth went agape, "oh, mister wolff! i'm so sorry!!"

your expression melted into something much cuter. it made toto smile as he said, "well it's good to know you are dedicated to making this team run efficiently." then held out his hand.

you shook it eagerly and he smiled at you. he was going to have to keep an eye on you, little one.

it wasn't hard to get you into his life. he seemed to linger around a little more, his hand often grazed your lower back. he leaned in when he was listening to you. anytime you thought about the crush you were developing for him, it made you cover your face in shame.

you couldn't be with someone in upper management!

but toto didn't care, the thought never crossed his mind. who were they to judge? you'd make a great wife and mother, with the amount of strength you carried with you, you could easily care for his kleine kinder.

but no matter how much you tried to distance yourself from him for the sake of your career, toto saw it as an opportunity to get closer. to corner you before he struck.

the first time he kissed you, he had you backed up against one of the cars. no one else was around and he leaned in to press a sweet kiss against you. later that night you'd end up in bed with him, your pussy getting fucked out by a man two times your age.

he promised that he wore a condom, "don't want to cut your career short there, kleiner."

your life soon turned into a sort of routine. you always started in a new city and country for the race, you did your checks then you went back to the hotel with toto.

you tried to be quickly about shuffling in and out of cars for the sake of what people would say. but not toto, he was almost gleeful that he got to walk around the paddock with his little mechanic.

the size gap between you two was rather large. he almost overshadowed you. he seemed to always take charge in that way, you were kept safe in his shadow. you could hold onto him and he'd never let you go.

"you are so beautiful." he said as kissed from your wrist to your shoulder then took you in his arms. nose dipped into the crook of your neck, "smell good too."

you chuckled, "yeah, i used your things. i knew you wouldn't like the smell of grease and sweat." you combed your fingers through his dark hair.

"mmm, not if it's you. i think you smell good all the time." he swayed you from side to side and your heart raced, "you did so good today, mein kleiner mechaniker."

my little mechanic.

you led him to the bed. he watched you slowly take off your casual clothes, he particularly enjoyed the mismatched pair of bra and panties. that was very cute. pink sports bra with cat printed underwear.

he placed both hands on our ass and brushed his clothed cock against your front, "mmm, looks good." he chuckled before he pulled you in for a soft kiss.

your core throbbed as you kissed him. his face in your hands as he grabbed your ass, the fleshed over spilled in his hands as he massaged the cheeks. you felt so good.

when you pulled away, you started to undo his belt.

"you like that, little one?" he asked as he watched you get the expensive leather belt off from around his waist.

your heart was in your throat as you worked on getting the crisp white button up off his shoulders, exposing his toned body to you. this man really didn't look like he was old enough to be your father. there were lines in his face and a crinkle when he smiled. but he still took care of himself, and had the stamina like a machine.

you stood in front of him, almost naked. he took your bra off and then leaned down to pull your underwear down your thighs. he kissed the top of your pussy and you made a small noise.

"always so sensitive." he remarked as you stepped out of the underwear. he tossed it away to be (hopefully) found later. once you were both naked, toto felt the possessiveness rise up in his gut.

he leaned in and asked, "has anyone else touched you since me?"

you wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed yourself up against him. you pouted at him and shook your head. no one else, only him.

he cupped your behind and kissed the shell of your ear, "good girl." then took you by the hand and got you into bed, "i don't want anyone else touching my braves mädchen." his lips against your heated skin made you feel great.

you wrapped your legs around his as you made out with him. your nails dug into his back. he loved when those blunt nails of yours dug into his back.

he also loved that you weren't supermodel thin. sure the ladies were lovely, but there was a strength to you. toto knew that he could be a little rougher with his angel because you had your fair shares of bruises already.

you held onto him tightly and made out with deeply as you felt the stutter in your core from the anticipation of having sex with him. you could feel his leaky cock up against your thigh, it was fully hard and precum dribbled out of it like a leaky tap.

"please, toto." you mumbled with your lips close to him. you felt so hot all over, it combed through you like an excited rush. he still smell like the cologne he wore all day.

his grip was strong as he almost slid his cock into you with ease. you could feel the twist in your gut from the excitement. the kisses got heavier as his large hands massaged your breasts.

his calloused fingers grabbed the flesh, his rough palms were scratchy against your nipples which made you tense up. the noise you made was a dragged out moan that only made your lover excited.

"if your little mechanics saw you right now." he chuckled with lust in his tone, "they saw you under me, i wonder if they'd watch me fuck you. they are in their cheap shared hotel rooms, while you get the top floor and the big bed. i wonder if they'd be jealous of my special attention."

you whined and arched your back a little, "you bastard, stop talking about my co-workers!" you scratched more lines into his back which only made the older man more excited.

"are what's wrong, mein kleiner mechaniker? you don't like to talk about work in the bedroom?" there was a teasing edge to his voice as he kept the tip of his cock right up against your pussy lips.

"i only want to think about you." you whined, "not the stupid cars or the stupider drivers who make my life hell!" you back arched once more with need. you wanted to FUCK, not have him ramble about formula one!

he laughed before he kissed you at the line of your jaw, "that's what i like to hear. maybe you should just stay with me and never think about work again?"

he had more than enough money to fund your little escape from the workforce. you saw the headline in the break room that he was making over sixteen million euros a year.

"what if you get bored of me?" you asked.

he kissed along our jaw once more, "no, no. i could never. i could never abandon the mother of my children, the wife i hold so dear. you were made for me, i would've waited a lifetime for you." he got out of your octopus grasp and grabbed a pillow nearby to put under your hips.

"please, toto." you said softly, the heat was heavy in your cheeks as you watched him get between your legs. he was divine, a perfect man for you. usually it would be a little suspicious for such an older man to go after a mechanic like you, but as your stomach did somersaults you pushed the thoughts into the back of your mind.

"i know, i know." he purred as he guided his cock into your sweet pussy. he watched your facial expressions as he sank himself into you. it felt amazing.

you were tight enough around him that it almost took the wind out of his chest, but he still managed to fit all seven and a half inches inside of you. he held onto you by the middle and started to pull you up and down his cock.

you held onto the pillow behind your head for some leverage as your lover used your body to his satisfaction. but don't worry, his little mechanic doesn't go without.

he continued to move you up and down his cock. sweat on his back and in his hairline as he rocked his cock up inside of you. it was nestled between your legs, where it belonged.

his beautiful little mechanic. there were better things for you to be doing than running around with car parts. instead of greasy coveralls, he pictured you in a cute sundress and instead of hauling your bag of tools, you had a lovely diaper bag. and instead of cars you were chasing, you were trying to make sure you firstborn with toto wasn't walking off too far.

"i want you." he said, "i want you for the rest of my days. i want you to have my children." call him a possessive old man for wanting to knock up someone young enough to be his daughter. but he believed you were more than capable to make your own choices! you were a mechanic, they don't give out those licenses to anyone.

smart, reliable and perfect to be his little wife. he liked when they were smaller than him, and there was almost a foot difference between you two.

his cock twitched inside of you at the thought of you being perfect at carrying his large babies. he'd make sure you were okay, anything for his beautiful girl.

the thrusts became faster as you felt his cock nudge against the back of your pussy. you felt full of him and it made the room fall into a haze. the heat between you two are palpable.

"toto."

"i got you, my little one. just let me fuck you." his voice was low as he watched you squirm a little under his touch. you kept your legs wrapped around him as he moved against you.

his hands felt comfortable at your middle, the soft skin against his fingers. he felt a swell of pride that he was fucking the most perfect woman in the world. a real world aphrodite.

you moaned and whimpered while he panted heavily against your skin. you both rutted together like animals and you felt the weight of his cock deep in your pussy. you wanted to bite in his strong shoulder, mark him.

but, if you marked him. he'd mark you return.

his cock bullied your insides, you whimpered and whined like a good little slut. who would've known the most stubborn mechanic would make for such a good little fuck toy?

"beautiful." he groaned. he loved the feeling of your wet pussy as he continued to fuck you. you were his perfect little girl, his future wife. god, the thought of you getting married to him felt like a dream come true.

he felt up your breasts once more, played with your nipples a little rougher than normal. he wanted to see if he could leave a few bruises on the beautiful skin.

you whimpered, "toto! ah! that hurts!"

he chuckled before he kissed your warm cheek, "no pain, no gain. plus, i like when i see your bruises from our fucking." his kisses lingered, "i like when you look like mine."

as if the chubby wolff brat you'd be carrying for nine months wasn't enough of a mark on you.

"then can i leave them on you?" you asked, your voice was out of breath from the hard fucking.

he chuckled and kissed you delicately, a far cry from the pace he was using. he replied, "of course, you carry my mark, i carry yours. it's only fair."

then you bit in his shoulder, your sucked on the bruise to leave is dark. the pace between you two started to stagger, the orgasm bliss was flooding your head as you headed towards orgasm.

the thump of your heart in your chest only intensified when he grabbed onto you a little tighter. with a few more heavy strokes of his cock, you climaxed. you gripped onto his shoulders and pressed a searing kiss on his collarbone as you felt the height of your orgasmic bliss!

this only drove toto further as he practically had you bent in half so he could bully his cock in your sweet cunt. time seemed to melt away, but the heightened feeling in his body remained. with a loud groan and a tenseness in his jaw, he finished inside of you.

"lovely girl." he purred as he started to slow down, eventually stopping. it briefly aroused him that his cum was shot into the back of your womb. you'd keep it safe.

he pulled out and pulled you into a hot kiss as he laid beside you. you got nestled under the covers and let your lover roam his large hands around you soft body.

"perfekt, mein kleiner mechaniker."

it wouldn't take much for you to retire before the career even really started. toto simply told you that you couldn't lifting all that heavy equipment when you were pregnant with his child.

the sight of you in your coveralls with you belly poking out was a very sweet idea. the last day you wore them, he had a sneaking suspicion that you were already carrying his brood. because you jumped back when he placed a large hand on your middle.

"you'll fill them out nicely." he joked before he kissed you on the temple. you just had to stay home with his children, be the wife he knew you could be. and at your age there were many chances for there to be a many children in your future.

by the end of the following year, you were with your toto. you were excited to see your old teammates, but this time you had a little surprise for them. you had traded your messy coveralls to a cute sundress with printed daisies on it.

you smiled when you saw them and toto rubbed your lower back. he had to keep you close by, you were almost at the third trimester of your pregnancy. you needed to be careful.

you smiled up at your husband and leaned in for a soft kiss. you'll teach your kids all about engines and car parts when they get older. you were a better fit as mrs. wolff than as any mechanic.

#bunny writes #formula one fanfiction #f1 x reader #toto wolff #toto wolff x reader #female reader #formula one smut #f1 smut #toto wolff smut #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #formula 1 #f1 fic #formula one x reader #formula one imagine #formula one

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mkkk12345 · 8 months ago

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Divus Crewel x Wife Reader How they met

Sorry this took so long to write, I was once again procrastinating lol Feel free to request situations (I write slowly and I’ll be pretty busy for the next while sadly, but please do request if you would like to! I'll do anyone in twst for the most part with your usual restrictions) (side note I got the names for the dogs from the 101 Dalmatians)

1.2K words

------

Oh how Crewel would come to regret what he had done that day, he really should have seen it coming. “Hey! Professor Crewel, tell us how you met your wife!”

This had all started when Crowley had approached him with a challenge. “If you manage to raise the class average of the first years to let's say~ 80 percent? I'll give you a raise! Am I not so incredibly generous? Hahahhahaaaa” He cawed to himself as Crewel walked away absolutely done with the crow mans shenanigans

Rolling his eyes he responds “I guess there is no harm in attempting it”

As an encouragement to study harder he had told his students that if they were able to raise the class average to 80 percent by the next semester he would allow them to ask one question about his personal life. Of course all of the students had jumped at the chance to glance into the oh so mysterious and strict teachers personal life.

And that is why we are here now.

Professor Divus Crewel, now being forced to tell the oh so embarrassing story of how he had met his lovely wife.

“Well it's not the worst question you lot could have asked. I would rather not share this story but if I must I will do so…”

—----

Divus was around 17 when he first met Y/N It was a bright and sunny day, the weather was perfect and it just so happened to be a long weekend, a rare opportunity to visit home in the Queendom of Roses.

It was also a perfect day to take his beloved pet dalmatian Perdita for a nice long walk in the nearby park for some long deserved bonding time.

When Crewel was home from NRC he would often take Perdita to the park. Whether it was actual exercise or for some relaxing time outside to sketch new fashion designs, Perdita never really minded. But today was different, the minute the pair stepped out of the door the spotted dog went bolting in the direction of the park. “Hey! Slow down girl, why on earth are you in such a rush today?!” he said, trying to keep all his sketching supplies from falling to the ground.

Luckily for young Divus, the dalmatian did eventually slow down once they reached the park. “You act as if no one has been bringing you to the park since I left for school.” he said exasperated from the impromptu run.

Soon after catching his breath Divus and his companion walked over to a nearby bench so the boy could start sketching, but right as he put his sketching equipment down there was another sudden tug on the lead and once again they were off “hey! Slow down! What has gotten into you toda-” CRASH he had been cut off suddenly, crashing into another person as Perdita and what seemed to be another dalmatian were running circles around the two very effectively tying the two together.

When he finally pried his eyes away from the dogs he finally realized the full situation he was in, tied up with a very beautiful young lady. “Oh my god I'm so sorry he doesn't usually act like this, Pongo would you stop that already?”

“Don't worry it was neither of our faults really, I guess these two have taken quite the interest in one another” he said as he pulled his arm out of the leashes to awkwardly scratch the back of his neck a blush forming on his face as he looked at a very interesting tree behind her.

“They've actually been like this for weeks!” she laughed as she finally met his eyes, “Oh you must be Divus! Your mother talks about you very often.” He was surprised, not only was this girl absolutely stunning but she already knew him. Although he would never admit it, he practically fell in love with her right then and there, the way she beamed with joy, the slight blush on her cheeks, her laugh even in the strangest of situations.

In an attempt to calm himself he averted his gaze again and began to untie him and his new developing crush from the entanglement of leashes they were trapped in “Oh you must have met mother while she was walking Perdita I do hope she didn't tell you anything embarrassing” a strained smirk appeared on his face, knowing how his mother liked to tell the most embarrassing stories of his childhood.

“Well I cant say she didn't say anything” she laughed softly again drawing Divus’s attention for a moment the blush on his face growing ever brighter.

Snapping out of his short trance he asked “Might I ask for your name then since you already know mine?” With blush remaining on the tips of ears he held out his hand like a gentleman, both with the intention to give her, her dogs leash back but also to lead her over to a bench so they could hopefully continue their conversation.

“Oh my apologies how rude of me, My name is Y/N nice to finally meet you.” She bashfully took both the leash and his hand, walking over to the bench.

“The pleasure is mine”

—-

“And whilst that was all happening I looked over to our dogs, only to find them looking at each other with what seemed to be a grin on their faces like they planned that all out.” Crewel sighed as he recalled how proud those little devils looked. “After quite a long conversation that ended up in me never actually starting a new sketch, we traded contact information and left the park.” he looked up at his students now regretting all his life decisions.

“And that is how I met my wife, now it seems like class is over, please leave quickly so I can question why I ever became a teacher in the first place.”

“But prof how did you ask her out?” “Yeah yeah! Who was the first one to confess!” “How did you propose????”

Frustrated crewel quickly answered “If I recall correctly you were all only given the privilege of asking one question, now if you don't stop pestering me I will be giving you even more homework.” a completely very unnoticable blush began to form on his face.

“Sorry sir!” Everyone shouted in unison, but on their way out the students did not miss the slightest hint of red that dusted their professor's cheeks as he pretended to sort through papers.

Once everyone had left and silence had fallen through the classroom a laughter could be heard coming from the Professors phone. “Awwwww darling, you retell that story so fondly~” Crewel sighed as he finally looked over at his phone

“I honestly can not believe I let you talk me into letting you listen to that.” he said with a hand firmly planted on his face covering any sign of pink that appeared.

“Consider it as repaying me for when I dropped those papers off for you. Now hurry home our two rascals of dogs are looking at me like I should thank them for getting us together.” she laughed nervously

“Yes yes honey see you soon” ending the call with a small smirk as he muttered “I should buy some more dog treats on the way back.”

#twst #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #crewel x reader #divus crewel #divus crewel x reader #divus crewel x yuu #twisted wonderland headcanons

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macbethsymphony · 5 months ago

Note

I know you said you have a hard time writing him, but can I request something with Sanji? I really love your enemies to lovers dynamic in your Zoro fic, so maybe something like that? Can you make it spicy too? just something short pretty please!

(No stress if you don't want to)

-💙

Anon!!! Now I don't know if I made this man justice! I'm sorry it took so long! I really tried my best!! I got a little carried away, so this isn't really something short anymore... BUT I hope you'll like it 💕 I'm also tired and didn't proofread this as much as I should have!

I Hate Flirts

Sanji x Female Reader

wc: 2.6k

warnings: NSFW, MDNI, 18+, enemies to lovers, smut, oral, p in v sex

To say your first impression of the cook, as you first joined the Straw Hat Pirates, was bad was one hell of an understatement. You weren’t a fan of pretty boys, and most of all, you weren’t a fan of flirts.

Hell, you hated flirts.

When Luffy had introduced you to the crew, you’d tried to put on your best smile. Everyone seemed nice enough—Zoro, with his comfortable demeanor; Nami, who welcomed you with a knowing smile; Usopp and Chopper, who were immediately friendly.

And then there was Sanji.

He’d approached you with that cheeky smile, a bouquet of flowers seemingly conjured out of thin air. “For the beautiful new member of our crew,” he’d said, taking your hand and kissing it with far too much charm.

You’d yanked your hand back, not being able to keep the sneer breaking on your lips at the gesture. “Don’t do that,” you snapped almost immediately.

It’d been entirely reactionary and the guilt you felt at the hurt in his eyes only served to widen the rift you’d created.

Sanji’s grin had faltered, just for a moment, before he replaced it with an exaggerated bow. “As you wish, mademoiselle. But my admiration knows no bounds.”

Your eyes narrowed at his answer. Something about it irked you beyond comprehension.

From that moment on, it was war. Sanji flirted relentlessly, his attempts becoming more and more ridiculous as he tried to win you over. You, in turn, shot him down at every opportunity, sometimes with a sharp retort, most of the time with a well-placed punch to the shoulder.

Despite the ongoing one-sided battle, you couldn’t deny that Sanji excelled in many places. He fought well and in the boredom of the endless sea, the meals he prepared were a highlight of your day. After all, you most definitely had a taste for the finer things in life.

As his cooking slowly broke away your apprehension towards him, you started to grudgingly admire his dedication to his craft. There was something about the way he moved in the kitchen, all precision and passion, that you couldn’t help but respect… Not that you’d ever admit that to him.

The rest of the crew found your dynamic endlessly entertaining. Nami would give you knowing looks, Zoro would snicker behind his sake, and Luffy, bless his heart, was just happy to have another person on board.

Despite everything, you had to admit the cook had his moments.

You weren’t sure what had taken you over but one extremely boring afternoon, your feet mindlessly brought you to the kitchen. Just as expected Sanji was there, elbow deep in preparations.

You leaned against the doorframe, quietly observing as he twirled the knife in his hands, as he chopped at a speed that was lightning-fast. “Need any help?” The words left your mouth before your mind could register them.

Sanji looked up, surprise clear on his features but a certain pleased glimmer filled his eyes. “A lady—“ he started to protest, the words dying on his lips as he saw your expression start to shift. “I-I’d love the help,” he muttered uncertainly instead.

You stepped into the kitchen, rolling up your sleeves as you moved to stand beside him. The countertop was cluttered with various ingredients, a testament to the elaborate meal he was undoubtedly preparing.

“What can I do?” you asked, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye.

Sanji handed you a knife and a cutting board. “Can you, uh, chop these vegetables? Uniform pieces, please.”

You took the knife from him, noting the gentle brush of his fingers against yours. Ignoring the slight warmth that spread through you, you focused on the task at hand. As you worked, the kitchen filled with the rhythmic sound of chopping, accompanied by the occasional clatter of pots and pans.

“Not bad,” Sanji commented, peeking at your progress. “You’ve got a good hand for this.”

“Surprised?” you shot back with a coy smirk, your tone teasing.

He laughed. “Maybe a little. You never struck me as the domestic type.”

You couldn’t help the soft chuckles that passed your lips. “I’m not,” you admitted. “But I have picked up a few skills along the way.” Your gaze was distant for a moment. “There’s nothing like good food and an excellent bottle of wine.” You punctuated your statement with a fancy twirl of your knife.

“Good wine, huh?” He said, curiosity piqued.

“Oh the things I would do for a good Cabernet and dark chocolate,” you mused dreamily.

Sanji’s eyes lit up. “A fellow connoisseur? Now that’s something I didn’t expect!” He set down his own knife and looked at you with genuine interest. “What’s your favorite dish to pair with a good wine?”

You paused, contemplating your answer. “I’d say a rich beef bourguignon. The deep, savory flavors work perfectly with a full-bodied red.”

Sanji’s smile grew wider, an expression of pure delight. “You have excellent taste,” he said, clearly impressed. “How about you help me make that tonight? I’ve got some top-quality beef in the pantry.”

Your eyes widened slightly in surprise. “You want to make bourguignon? Right now? What about all this?” You gestured at what you’d been chopping.

“Why not?” he replied, enthusiasm shining in his eyes. “It’s a perfect way to spend a boring afternoon, don’t you think? The prep can serve for tomorrow.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his infectious excitement. “Alright, let’s do it.”

For the next few hours, the two of you worked side by side, prepping ingredients and discussing various cooking techniques. Sanji’s knowledge of culinary arts was vast, and you found yourself genuinely enjoying his company. He was patient, guiding you through the more intricate parts of the recipe without a hint of condescension.

As the bourguignon simmered on the stove, filling the kitchen with a mouthwatering aroma, Sanji uncorked a bottle of red wine. “Here,” he said, pouring you a glass. “A little something to pass the time while we wait.”

You took the glass, savoring the rich, velvety flavor of the wine. “This is amazing,” you admitted, glancing at him. “Where did you get it?”

“A gift from a grateful villager,” he replied with a wink. “I’ve been saving it for a special occasion.”

You raised an eyebrow. “And making beef bourguignon with me counts as a special occasion?”

Sanji’s expression softened, a hint of sincerity shining through his usual flirtatious demeanor. “Every moment with you is special.”

You rolled your eyes, but this time, it was more out of habit than annoyance. “If you think this is getting you into my pants, think again,” you admonished though your tone remained playful.

He blushed and sputtered, choking on his sip of wine.

Cute.

You smiled as you looked at him. It was the first time you’d seen this side of Sanji – the side that wasn’t really trying to win you over with charm and gifts, but simply being kind. You really looked at him for the first time. Maybe there was more to Sanji than the flirtatious exterior. Maybe, just maybe, he was worth getting to know beyond the playful banter.

As the weeks flowed, your dynamic shifted. Sanji’s flirtations became less over-the-top, more sincere. He still never missed an opportunity, but there was a gentleness to it now, a hint of genuine affection. And damn it, you found yourself responding in kind.

You weren’t sure when exactly it happened, but one day, you caught yourself laughing at one of his ridiculous flirting attempts. It was a real, deep and true laughter, the sound surprising both of you. Sanji’s eyes widened, a slow smile spreading across his face.

From that moment on, he craved to hear the cheerful din of your laughter again and again, especially when it was only for him.

One evening, as you mindlessly sipped a Cabernet with dark chocolate, you looked at him differently. As he hummed to himself, washing the dishes, you found yourself thinking this was nice.

“You know, Sanji,” you started, munching on chocolate. “I think I wouldn’t mind it if you tried to get into my pants.”

Sanji nearly dropped the plate he was washing, turning to face you with wide eyes and a face quickly turning as red as the wine you were sipping. “W-What?” he stammered, clearly caught off guard.

You took another sip of your wine, a teasing smile playing on your lips. “You heard me,” you said casually, savoring the rich liquid. “I think I wouldn’t mind it. If you tried, that is.”

Sanji blinked, his usual suave demeanor momentarily replaced with genuine surprise and nervousness. He opened his mouth to say something but closed it again, seemingly at a loss for words.

You chuckled softly, enjoying his flustered state. “Cat got your tongue, cook?”

You got up, slowly making your way to him. Your fingers traced his jaw as you looked at him through your lashes. “Unless I’m mistaken and you’re not interested. That’s fine too, I guess.”

Sanji swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing nervously under your touch. He cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. “No, no, you’re not mistaken,” he said, his voice a little shaky but sincere. “I’ve just… I’ve...”

You couldn’t help but smile. “Well then, in that case, you could kiss me,” you suggested, your voice soft and inviting.

Sanji’s eyes searched yours for a moment, as if making sure he wasn’t dreaming. Then, with a deep breath, he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours with a tenderness that made your heart flutter. The kiss was slow and sweet, filled with the promise of more to come.

Promises you didn’t want to wait for.

You softly bit at his lower lip, asking for more. Sanji’s hesitation melted away as he responded to your encouragement, deepening the kiss with newfound confidence, His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer as your lips moved in sync. His tongue met yours in a careful dance, the taste of chocolate, wine, and cigarettes mingling between you.

Time seemed to slow as you lost yourself in the moment, the gentle sway of the ship only adding to the intoxicating feeling. Your fists bunched in his shirt, then his hair, desire clear in the desperation of your movements. He stumbled forward, pinning you to the counter, your back arched and you wished you could melt into him more than physically possible.

You pulled away slightly, breathless and dizzy with lust. “Does the door have a lock?” you asked breath hot against his.

Sanji’s breath was ragged as he struggled to form coherent thoughts. He looked towards the kitchen door, then back at you, eyes dark with desire. “Yes,” he murmured, his voice husky. “It does.”

You grinned, biting your lip. “Good,” you whispered, your lips brushing against his ear as you did so. “Lock the door for me, pretty boy?”

The click of the lock seemed to break the last of Sanji’s restraint. He captured your lips again, this time with more urgency, his hands roaming your body with a newfound boldness. His touch sent shivers down your spine, igniting a fire in your core.

You tugged at his shirt, impatiently pulling it free from his pants, your fingers tracing the hard lines of his abdomen. Sanji’s breath hitched at the contact, his hands moving to unbutton your own clothing with equal fervor.

As your garments fell to the floor in a haphazard pile, Sanji lifted you onto the counter, the cold surface a stark contrast to the heat of your skin. He paused for a moment, his eyes drinking in the sight of you, a reverent expression on his face. You moved to remove your black lacy underwear but his hand stopped you.

“I want you to keep it on,” he breathed, his voice filled with genuine awe. “You’re a vision.”

Your eyebrow arched but still you blushed at his words and you most definitely didn’t let them slow you down. “Show me how much,” you challenged, pulling him closer until there was no space left between you.

Sanji didn’t need to be told twice. His lips traveled from your mouth to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses and gentle nips that had you gasping for breath. His hands were everywhere, exploring, caressing, driving you wild with want.

As he trailed down your abdomen he dropped down to his knees, hands going around your thighs and dragging you to the edge. He looked up at you, veneration in his eyes. “Can I taste you?” He almost begged.

You took your time to answer him, reveling in the sight. Your hand lazily cupped his cheek, tangled in his hair. “Yes.” Your whisper was almost lost against the sound of waves crashing against the hull.

His tongue met already dripping black lace. He lapped and sucked with adoration and the muted feeling of ecstasy threatened to send you over the edge again and again. Until your thighs shook and you were reduced to a babbling mess, begging for his tongue against your flesh.

When he at long last dragged the ruined piece of cloth down your legs and his tongue finally met your slick with worship, his name flowed across your lips like a prayer. The waves of pleasure that washed over you were overwhelming and as orgasm after orgasm flowed through you he didn’t relent, drinking you in with a fervor born of reverence. You could feel your arousal drip down your trembling thighs, down his chin, the moans that escaped you as you implored him to stop obscene.

When you collapsed in exhaustion and your shrieks born of overstimulation became soft sobs and whimpers he finally backed off. Gently, he guided you lower, a hand behind your head as he lay you down against the cool granite of the counter.

His lips found yours in a soft kiss, allowing your mind to slowly come back to reality. His tongue danced with yours with careful consideration, the taste of your slick flooding your mouth. “I want to feel you around me, I want to feel your warmth, I want to…” he pleaded against your lips.

“Sanji, please,” you whispered, your voice laced with need.

Forehead to forehead Sanji’s eyes met yours, his gaze blown with lust. “Anything for you, my love” he promised, his hands unsteady as he positioned himself.

He slowly slid in, both of you moaning, your breaths mingling in want. You mewled, your head falling back as Sanji began to move, each thrust a symphony of pleasure that built and built until you thought you might shatter from the sheer intensity of it.

Sanji’s rhythm was desperate, his movements ragged and teetering as he brought you higher and higher. Your name fell from his lips in a litany of praise and need, each syllable driving him to push you further.

As the tension within you reached a fever pitch, you clung to him, your nails digging into his back as you rode the waves of ecstasy that crashed over you. Sanji followed soon after, hips stuttering, hot seed mingling with your slick as it slowly overflowed and dripped down unto the counter.

For a moment, the world was nothing but the sound of your ragged breaths, the steady beat of your hearts, and the gentle sway of the ship. You clung to each other, lost in the afterglow, the reality of what had just happened slowly sinking in.

You were the first to break the silence, your voice raspy and filled with a mix of satisfaction and exhaustion. “Sanji, that was incredible,” you chuckled. “I don't think I can stand.”

His laughter mingled with yours, a rich, heartfelt sound that filled the room. Your heart filled with contentment. The moment was perfect, a blend of intimacy and joy that neither of you would ever let go of.

Masterlist

#one piece smut #one piece fanfiction #sanji x reader #sanji x y/n #sanji x you #vinsmoke sanji x reader #one piece x reader #sanji smut #charlou writes

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moonxytcn · 3 months ago

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Hellooo, here is my request! We are a new upcoming artist in the industry and we attend the grammys for the first time. Some guy is interviewing us and asks a really inappropriate question which makes us uncomfortable. And before we could even attempt to answer the question billie so happens to notice how uncomfortable we are and steps into the conversion saving us just on time. This is the first time we ever meet billie, and some how by the end of the night billie gives us her number in hopes of being able to see us again 🫶🏻

rescue on the red carpet

| Billie Eilish x fem!reader

summary – Billie saves you from an uncomfortable interviewer question

tags & warnings – just fluffy

a/n – hiii <3 it's been a while since I wrote anything hihi, but I'm back, and thank you so much for the request anon!! and I'm sorry it took so long to post, I hope you enjoy this <3

| English is not my first language so there may be some errors.

| Masterlist —✽— Pinned Post

ㅤ✯ ━━━━━━ ✿ ✫ ✿ ━━━━━━ ✯

–––

The lights of the Grammy Awards shimmer and sparkle like nothing you've ever seen before. You're standing on the red carpet, the air electric with excitement and anticipation. It's your first time here, and the grandeur of it all feels almost surreal. You're a newcomer in the music industry, and being nominated for Best New Artist is a dream come true. Your heart races as you take in the dazzling sea of celebrities, flashing cameras, and enthusiastic reporters.

The crimson carpet under your feet seems to stretch on for miles, lined with eager fans and journalists clamoring for a glimpse of the stars. You feel like you're in a dream, walking amongst giants in the music industry. Your dress, an elegant blend of shimmer and sophistication, clings perfectly to your form, making you feel both powerful and vulnerable at once.

As you make your way down the carpet, a charming interviewer from a popular entertainment network beckons you over. His smile is wide, his demeanor polished, but something about his eyes makes you uneasy.

"Welcome to the Grammys!" He exclaims, holding the microphone out toward you. "How does it feel to be here tonight?"

You smile graciously, taking a breath to steady yourself. "It's truly an honor to be here among so many talented artists. I'm just grateful for the opportunity."

The interviewer nods, then leans in slightly, lowering his voice as if to share a secret. "You've had quite a rise to fame this year. Many are calling you the next big thing. How are you handling all this attention? And." He pauses, his grin turning a shade sharper, "there have been rumors about your personal life. Care to comment on any of those?"

The question catches you off guard. Your mind races as you try to think of a polite way to deflect. Rumors? About your personal life? You’ve tried hard to keep your private life out of the spotlight. Heat rushes to your cheeks, and you feel your confidence begin to waver.

Before you can find the words, the interviewer presses on, his smile now verging on predatory. "There's a particularly juicy one about a certain collaboration turning into something more... intimate. What do you have to say about that?"

You freeze, acutely aware of the cameras zooming in, capturing every moment of your discomfort. You can hear the crowd's murmurs, feel the eyes of countless onlookers on you. You’re cornered, and the vulnerability is almost paralyzing. Your pulse quickens, and your rehearsed poise starts to crumble.

And then, like a bolt of lightning, a voice cuts through the tension.

"Hey, I think that's enough of the tabloid questions, don't you?"

You turn to see Billie Eilish stepping forward, her iconic green hair and bold fashion sense unmistakable. Her expression is calm yet commanding, her gaze steady as she addresses the interviewer.

The interviewer falters, momentarily taken aback by Billie's intervention. "Oh, Billie! Of course, it's great to see you. I was just asking about—"

Billie interrupts smoothly, her tone firm but friendly. "I know what you were asking, but tonight's about celebrating achievements, not spreading gossip. Why not focus on her incredible music instead?"

Her words hang in the air, a lifeline thrown your way. You catch Billie's eye, and she offers you a reassuring smile. It's like a wave of relief washes over you, the tension easing from your shoulders.

The interviewer, now visibly flustered, clears his throat and shifts his attention back to you. "Right, right. Apologies for that. So, tell us about your album and the inspiration behind it."

You take a deep breath, grateful for Billie's timely intervention. With renewed confidence, you talk about your work, your passion for music, and the journey that led you here. Billie stands by your side, her presence a comforting shield against the prying questions that had threatened to throw you off balance.

As the interview concludes, you thank the reporter and turn to Billie, who is already flashing her signature grin.

"Thank you." You say, gratitude evident in your voice. "I didn't know what to do back there."

Billie chuckles softly, shrugging off the praise. "No worries. I've been in this industry long enough to know how these things go. You handled it well."

Her words are genuine, and they bolster your spirits. You find yourself smiling back at her, the tension from earlier fading away.

The rest of the evening passes in a whirlwind of excitement and celebration. You watch performances that leave you awestruck, rub shoulders with artists you've admired for years, and even manage to snag a selfie with a few of your musical idols.

As the night draws to a close, you find yourself once again crossing paths with Billie. She's surrounded by a small group of admirers and friends, but when she spots you, she waves you over.

"Hey! How was the rest of your night?" She asks, her energy as infectious as ever.

"It was incredible." You reply, feeling more at ease than you had at the start of the evening. "Thank you again for stepping in back there. It means a lot."

Billie dismisses your gratitude with a wave of her hand. "Seriously, don't mention it. I've been there. And besides, we're all in this together, right?"

You nod, feeling a connection with her that goes beyond just the shared experience of the industry. There's something genuine about Billie that makes you feel seen and understood.

As the crowd around you begins to thin out, Billie leans in slightly, her voice dropping to a more private tone. "Hey, if you ever want to hang out or need someone to talk to about the craziness of this industry, here's my number."

She hands you a small card with her number scrawled on it, the gesture both casual and meaningful. Your heart skips a beat at the thought of having a direct line to someone as renowned and talented as Billie Eilish.

"Thank you." You say, tucking the card safely into your purse. "I’d love that."

Billie gives you a nod, her eyes twinkling with sincerity. "Great. I hope we can catch up soon."

With that, she waves goodbye, disappearing into the remaining crowd, leaving you with a newfound sense of hope and excitement. The night may have started with uncertainty, but it's ending with the promise of friendship and the potential for so much more.

As you make your way out of the venue, you can't help but smile. Your first Grammy night has been unforgettable, not just because of the awards and performances but because you've found an ally in one of the industry's brightest stars.

And as you step into the cool night air, you know this is just the beginning of an incredible journey.

#moonxytcn writes #moonxytcn requests #billie eilish #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish imagine #billie eilish fanfic #billie eilish fic #billie eilish x fem!reader #celebrity imagine #billie eilish x you

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cherryheairt · 2 months ago

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O Hello, can you write about Gwayne? I really like the way you write.

EI was thinking something like enemies to lovers. Instead of Baela, she is the one who flies over the dragon. They met at the dinner Viserys prepared before he died in the first season.

At the end of the dance Gwayne is forced to bend the knee and accept Rhaenyra as queen. Her daughter doesn't miss the opportunity to make his life hell, until he corners her in a hallway and takes her like a dragon.

hello! I love this prompt, I miss gwayne already 💔

Beckae is the name I gave MC, just to add to the immersion of a Targ-Velyron lol, pronounced Becky still. No description for the reader (mother is Rhaenyra but father is anyone made up, lets say that the reader looks a spitting image of their father to keep it neutral. fem pronouns. I couldn't include the smut at the end, just a lil steam. I'm sorry 😞, I'm terrible at writing those scenes.

noticed that Gwayne's costume included a ring on a chain, a thing typically done by people who want to keep their wedding ring on them, but not lose them. It gave the the main idea for this lol

Dance of Green and Black

When Gwayne Hightower and Beckae Velayron were forced to wed by order of Rhaenyra Targaryen, both did not bother to hide their vexation. They were married mere days after Rhaenyra won the Iron Throne, her loyal men killing Aegon ii in his state of disarray from his burns.

Now, months later, they had left their marriage uncomsumated and drier than the sandy hills of Dorne. They refused to sleep in shared marital chambers at the Red Keep, having agreed on that one thing. Gwayne reluctantly took his father's place at court, staying among the very snakes that brought him here in the first place. He cursed himself for ever responding to Alicent's letter when Aegon first took the throne. If he hadn't, he'd be living his life peacefully alone at the Old Tower.

Now, his days were spent being tormented by the spoilt Princess. She attended each council meeting, laughing snidely at every suggestion Gwayne gave his Queen, and suggesting one of her own in turn. She got away with this every time, seeing as her grandmother was the Hand of the Queen, Rhaenys, and her mother was the Queen.

Gwayne sipped on his wine, which he had taken to indulging in every council, listening to the drowl words of the nobles around him. His wife shared his boredom, apparently, twirling her own glass in her hand. Beside him, she huffed every few minutes. He resisted the urge to ask her to excuse herself if she were so bored. Suddenly, a wet 'splash' fell to his lap, dampening his breeches.

"Oops..." Fluttered the Princess, who covered her mouth in surprise. "That was an accident, I assure you." Though Gwayne could care less if it was genuine or not, he was already scooting his chair out and storming out of the council room. Shocked faces around the table landed on Beckae, who at least had the gaul to look embarrassed. Rhaenyra raised a brow at her daughter, nodding her chin toward the door shortly.

The Princess swiftly followed after her husband, not truly caring for his embarrassment but moreso glad to be given an excuse for leaving the room. If she had known putting her mother on the Iron Throne would have been so dreadfully boring, she would've taken her dragon to Pentos and lived out her days as an old maid.

Gwayne reached his private chambers first, long legs able to carry him so much faster. He took off his trousers and small clothes, left with his bottom half bare to the world. Beckae followed after him, gasping and turning around at the sight before her. Shit, she thought. Perhaps she should've waited at his doors.

"Here to empty your goblet entirely? Go ahead, I'm used to it." He sneered, rolling his eyes at her sudden bashfulness. It would not be the first time she witnessed such a thing. For modesty's sake, he slipped on a fresh pair of linens.

"I am merely here to apologize, husband. Not patronize." She mumbled, face hot.

"Hm." He stepped forward, taking her chin in his hand and forcing her to look up at him. "Where was this attitude when you were chasing after me on your dragon? I think your true colors much suit you, wife."

She grit her teeth, annoyed at his haughty behavior. "It was war. If I hadn't been on my dragon and your party happened upon me, I'd have been killed by Criston Cole without remorse."

"I wouldn't have allowed that to happen." He insisted confidently.

She snorted, "when had that man ever listened to you? He hardly heeded the usurper's orders when he was alive."

"Do you think I would have let you die, especially such a dishonorable death?" Gwayne questioned, squeezing her cheeks harder.

She grimaced, "we were not wed, then. Barely acquainted, to add."

He looked disappointed at her snarky reply. "I may not hold much affection for you, wife, but I have always shown myself to be an honorable man, have I not?" When she didn't respond, he continued. "I would say we were not acquaintances, either. Were we acquainted when I bestowed upon your head the crown of The Queen of Love and Beauty at your nameday tourney?"

"That's different. You had to name me that. It is the expectation of a tourney winner to name the celebration's main subject with that title." She said.

"I could've named someone else, even so. Was our little tryst that night meaningless?"

"You cannot use that against me, Gwayne. It is shameful enough that I allowed myself to do such a dishonest thing." She grabbed his wrist lightly, urging it away from its grip. He listened, moving it to a more gentle caresse at the base of her neck, tangled in her hair.

"I do not regret it." He said, softly. "Nor do I regret the night we spent together after the dinner with our families."

"Gwayne," she pleaded, avoiding his intense gaze. While their marriage was yet to be officially consumated, she was far from a maiden. He was to thank for that, of course. How ironic that they ended up married only after they begun to resent each other.

Gwayne resented his entrapment here. She resented his family and his actions during the war.

"What, Princess? I only speak the truth and you know it. Do you regret it?"

She remained silent, hands placed on his chest as if to ground herself.

Gwayne took that as his answer. "We do not have to live this way. We could leave—return to my home in Old Town. You can have your privacy, do whatever you please whenever you'd like. I beg you, it is torturous here for me, and I know you share that sentiment. I will not ask for heirs, I have my brother for that. You can take a lover, a paramour of your choice." He promised her, grabbing her hands and bringing them together. On his knees, he looked the proper image of a knight, kneeling like such. To beg for his Lady to do him this one favor, to release him from court.

"I do not want a lover." She said lowly. "I want for you."

His eyes widened, then his brows furrowed together in bemusement. "You have taken it upon yourself to belittle me publically every day, do you expect me to now believe that you do not resent me?" He scoffed bitterly.

The Princess looked away from him, unknowing of how to phrase her next words. "That is true, I will admit to my teasings–"

"I would hardly call them teasings." He cut in.

She glared at him, continuing. "–or torments, perhaps. No one truly enjoys court, it is both of us who are trapped her together. If I hadn't been forced to marry you, we would have both been free to live where we wished."

"Your mother is Queen, if you only ask she will provide."

"You overestimate my influence, Gwayne. She wants your advisory in council–for Gods know what–and she knows you being married to me keeps you loyal to her."

"Then I will stop being useful. I will be the worst advisor that council has ever seen." His face lit uo in a smirk, as if we were a profound genius.

"Do you not think she will see through this rouse."

"You will be my aid, dear Lady. You need only continue your extremely rude and annoying actions, only louder and more aggressive, so that they will have no choice but to kick you out from future meetings. In addition, my uselessness will send me with you out of the Keep to be rid of us both. If we hate each other in their eyes, they will not suspect that we are working together." He explains.

She carefully thinks it over. True, they would not want wither of them uselessly loitering around the Keep after they were kicked out of the council. She nodded firmly, agreeing to his plan. If all things went to shit and they were discovered to be playing a rouse, the only consequence would be a scolding. What was stopping them?

🏰

Gwayne and Beckae went through their little routine for weeks. The Princess rudely commenting on the entire council's opinions now, not just Gwayne's. Not rude enough to be kicked out immediately, but for irritated glares to be regularly shot at her. If looks could kill, Beckae would have been buried long ago. Gwayne, for his part, entirely stopped giving his opinions. If asked, he exaggeratedly thought for a long time before giving false information.

The weeks passed with many stressed advisors going through the boring meetings with many complaints to the Queen and her Hand. With Gwayne and his wife, however, they started to bond over their mischiefs. Late at night, after their duties were done, the two shared laughter and pleasent conversation over their cups.

When Rhaenyra pulled the married couple aside one morning, before the meeting started, Gwayne and Beckae felt giddy with anticipation.

"You two...I have been thinking for a while now. I think it is time you retired from court and traveled back to Old Town, to raise your children and take care of your House directly from it." The Queen avoided her true reasoning, skirting politely around the Hightower man.

They both nodded solemnly, agreeing with her choice. "We will miss the Keep, Mother. I expect next time I visit, you will perhaps be blessed with a grandchild." Beckae said, hugging her mother, who looked relieved.

Gwayne's brows raised at her words but agreed with them in front of the Queen. Soon, she left the married couple alone.

They shared a loud laugh together, holding each other at their small win. "Free at last!" The Princess cheered, earning a hearty chuckle from her husband.

"Indeed, wife. What were you saying, blessed with a grandchild? Are you so eager to be bed in your new home?" He asked teasingly.

She felt her face grow unrelentingly hot, scoffing. "I was only appeasing her." She said.

Gwayne hummed disbelievingly, nodding along. "I'm sure you were, wife."

At her gawking defenses, he only laughed and walked to his chambers to pack.

🏰

After a sickening three months on the road to Old Town, Beckae and Gwayne were more than ready to sleep on cushioned beds.

So ready, in fact, that they didn't bother to split into separate chambers. Both in Gwayne's chambers, the Princess and Gwayne relaxed in his spacious bed.

"I can not tell you how much I missed a proper bed." She sighed loudly, groaning in pleasure at the comfort. He did the same, humming his own praise.

Well into the night, the two merely talked and sipped on cups of sweet wine. In only their night shifts, Beckae could clearly spot a ring shining on his chest. She grabbed it, pulling it towards her slightly, fingerd brushing over his bare chest and earning a shiver from him. He leaned in with the ring, the chain pulling him by the neck.

"I did not notice this. I had thought you threw your wedding ring away the second you left the feast." She said softly, smiling at the sight of his matching ring.

"Of course not. I am not so cruel." He said, grabbing her own ring-adorned hand and gently placing a kiss on top of the ring. She giggled at the ticklish feeling, earning a smirk from Gwayne. He smirked, continuing to place feathery kisses up her arm, to her shoulder, then neck. The sensitive skin being so softly kissed made her shiver in turn, sighing pleasently. He paused before reaching her lips, grabbing her chin softly in his hand. Silently he asked for her approval.

Nodding, she was immediately drowned in a hot kiss, his tongue invading her mouth as she moaned. She moved her hands to his red hair, tugging at it. He moved her onto her back, hands squeezing her waist playfully. They pulled apart, lips swollen and panting.

The ring hung down to her own chest as he leaned over her. She twirled the ring in her finger, pleased at the sight of it. He was hers, and she was his. Entirely. She brought him down in a kiss again, pulling his chest to her own and adoring the heat that he brought with him.

That night, they comsumated their marriage in a way that no one could deny, every servant in the Tower being able to hear their Lord and Lady making heirs.

🏰

#gwayne hightower x reader #gwayne hightower #gwayne x reader #hotd fanfic #hotd

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lightseoul · 8 days ago

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Hiiiiii! I really love your work!!

Can i ask for number 20?

hello, love! thank you so much, and know that i see you interacting with my pieces and i truly appreciate it <3 also, at this point, i'm not even writing the prompts in order of the requests LOL so you get a fast pass, too! this bkg is always way too fun to write! i hope this one makes y'all smile.

(this is lightseoul's 2k milestone event ft. bakugou katsuki! to play, view the numbered list of prompts here, then simply send an ask with your chosen number and i'll whip something up!)

warnings. minors dni, please!

20. "THIS IS SUCH A WASTE OF TIME." (0.9k)

“…so just like the last time, i want you to relax, okay?”

from where he’s laying on top of your pristine king-sized bed, a half-naked bakugou only glowers at you, arms folded behind his head in such a way that makes his biceps oh so bitable. he’s radiating that domineering aura that he always gives off in any context, only this time it’s a little…

misplaced.

you reach out to touch him, dressed in nothing but your intimates as well, ultimately placing your hand on his inner thigh. you feel him immediately tense at the contact.

caressing the skin with soothing circles in an attempt to calm him, you toss him a gentle smile. “just—let me make you feel good. alright, katsuki?”

“yeah, yeah,” he quips dismissively, rolling his eyes in nonchalance, comically juxtaposing the way his abdominal muscles and thighs are pulsing in what you’ve long identified as budding anticipation. “get on with it already.”

you bite back a laugh at his masked enthusiasm. the last thing you want is to make him feel embarrassed—you never want to make him feel bad, especially when you’re being intimate, and, well…

let’s just say you’ve been thinking about tonight ever since you broached the topic with him last week over dinner.

“katsuki…” you remember starting, nerves shot as you toyed with the leftover rice grains on your plate.

he looked up from where he sat across you on your dining table, eyebrows raised in question, wordlessly nudging you to go on.

“there’s something i’ve been wanting to try out,” you continued.

“…okay?”

“in bed.”

now, it’s not like you two are vanilla nor are you prudes—not that there’s anything wrong with that.

it’s just that the topic of sex makes you both flustered, and so talking about it is never an easy feat. but when curiosity and the burning need do get to either of you, you always make it a point to bring it up with the other.

the hand that was holding a glass of cold water froze mid-air at your statement, and you looked up at bakugou, whose gaze had averted from yours.

it probably took him a full minute or two to finally reply, not before clearing his throat like he always did when he felt awkward.

“what is it?”

“i want to top you,” you blurted out before you could think better against it. “…again.”

and when he didn’t say anything, you decided to just take the opportunity and press on.

“i know we never really talked about me topping again after that first time, but i figured that you liked it enough, based on how you—”

“—alright, alright,” he cut you off, a faint hue of pink high on his cheeks. “i get it.”

“so you’ll do it then?” you asked him then and there, excitement bleeding into your tone.

what felt like a few agonizing minutes passed before he finally nodded, an unreadable expression on his face. “not now, though. this friday, when i get off early.”

which brings you to now.

it’s bakugou’s voice, though, that actually brings you back to the present moment.

“are ya gonna get on with it or are you gonna keep on staring at me?”

you pull back and feel yourself flush at the call out, but will yourself to remain composed. you’re not about to let him steal your role for the night—you’ve fought hard enough to get to where you are right now.

“sorry,” you quickly retort, “before we start, though—”

he groans.

“—let’s go through the safe words first.”

“what am i, a fucking dumbass?” he sneers, traces of restlessness evident on his features that are extra pretty under the dim lights of your bedroom. “you don’t have to keep on repeating ‘em every time we fuck.”

“it’s important that we reiterate them,” you argue, “especially for tonight, since we’re trying something new.”

for the nth time, bakugou rolls his eyes but relents, giving you a curt nod.

“so every now and then, i’ll ask you what color you’re at. green is for when you’re all good to continue, yellow is when you want to take a pause, and red is when—”

“—i want to stop, i know.”

“no questions asked—i’ll stop the minute you say red. so don’t hesitate to tell me, okay?”

“okay,” he tosses back so impatiently you’re now really struggling to keep a straight face. he shifts on his back and adjusts his boxer shorts, which, you observe are getting tighter by the second.

you haven’t even started, yet the mere thought of you topping him—however ambiguous that is—is turning him on.

bakugou must’ve noticed you looking and the slight upturn of the corner of your lips, because he shoots you a glare. “you done? god, this is such a waste of time.”

at that, you snort. “you’re not even gonna ask me what i’m gonna do?”

“how bad can it be?”

oh, dear.

the man is probably expecting you to just ride him.

you chance another look at your beautiful boyfriend, and a tidal wave of want washes over you so violently you almost stumble from where you’re seated at the bottom edge of the bed.

well.

it’s now or never, right?

and to hell with it if you can’t have him this way now.

taking a deep breath, you steel yourself for what you’re about to say next.

“…get on your knees, katsuki.”

his reply is almost instantaneous.

“what?”

to that, you shoot him the most innocent smile you can muster.

“‘cause i’m about to finger you.”

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onestepbackwards · 2 months ago

Text

Love That Bites Pt. 14

This took. So long. I'm so sorry OTL But!!! It's done! I hope you all enjoy it! This chapter was suppose to be around 3000 words. It ended up being twice as long. Oops haha. I hope you all like this chapter though! Hopefully the next one won't take near as long (❁´◡`❁)

Summary: It was finally time for you to head home, but it seems Dracula wants to at least make sure you are healthy and safe before you go. A shame after you leave all your anxieties seem to hit you all at once...

CW: Anxiety attacks, slight mental breakdown, mentions of abusive relatives, brief mentions of injury, blossoming feelings

Word Count: 6384 Words!

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You were beginning to wonder if your life was a party, and you were the piñata.

In the span of less than a literal week, you had your shit kicked in since you couldn’t just fight off your step family, and accidentally revived an ancient ‘evil’ vampire that was your family’s immortal enemy.

Said immortal enemy then has tended to your health, Death threatened you, and now you somehow, by some stroke of luck, have convinced Dracula not to destroy all of humanity.

It… confused you.

Perhaps this really was a dream? Maybe you were actually still bleeding out on the floor of the castle or your bedroom?

By all means, you expected to possibly be dead after Dracula mentioned wanting to talk. You were in a way, ready to accept such a fate.

But his willingness to hear you out, and perhaps try not to kill people threw you for a loop.

A big loop.

One that had you questioning a lot, if you were being honest with yourself.

Had it always been that easy? Or were you genuinely just a special case? He did say he found you in particular fascinating.

One of your hands came up to rub your face as you felt your cheeks warm at the thought.

…Why did you have to find that kinda hot? Whatever, that wasn’t the point-

To be fair, given that the situation leading up to this point had already been weird and unusual, presumably even by your family’s standards. You doubted any of them would have had picnics with Dracula’s statue and run to his castle while critically injured.

But… you honestly couldn’t believe it was real. Dracula actually agreed not to try to destroy humanity. Somewhat.

Of course, that was his word alone, but…

…When you shook his hand, you couldn’t help but feel as if you had made a deal with the devil itself.

It was as if a part of you had a feeling deep in your chest that he would abide by the terms you both set.

But if you were being honest with yourself… you didn’t know if you could believe this. That the fact you even got him to agree was real.

You spent so much time worrying about it. Even before you ever found his statue, you had nightmares and days worrying about how you would handle Dracula if you had to confront him.

Was it all some plot? Some plan to make it hurt after betraying you?

Those pesky thoughts lingered, but you found it hard to believe them. Despite how often they popped up in your head, it was easy to counter them.

After all, why keep the Belmont alive after being slain so many times?

There were multiple opportunities to hurt you, kill you, torture you. Hell, if he wanted you as a prisoner, he didn’t have to give you such a lavish guest room.

Perhaps it was the fact everything you had been raised to believe at this point was now being called into question? After all, with everything happening, it felt like your world was spinning at a thousand miles an hour.

A part of you was probably also in shock.

Sure, your life has been hell up to this point, but it had a normalcy to it. You could expect to deal with dumb shit at home, and to fight evil monsters that were some of the worst of their kind when you did get to hunt.

It wasn’t fun, but it was normal.

This though? All the things you had happening to you?

Not normal at all, and it was hard to think.

Or maybe a bit too easy to do so.

It was as if a flood of thoughts swam in your mind, yet it was hard to comprehend so many of them.

“...At least the bed is comfy.” you mumbled, staring into the ceiling as you tried to calm your nerves. You still hadn’t completely calmed down since Dracula had talked to you.

Dracula had left not too long ago after you reached a… stable compromise?

He had said something about needing to check on some things, and to prepare to tell everyone about the deal you both came to.

You wondered just how much chaos that would stir.

A part of you felt a bit guilty. No doubt Dracula would have a lot of anger to deal with from some of his servants and the like. Many were already on edge with you just staying here, so you imagined the news wouldn’t go down without some outcry.

It was no secret many followed Dracula for his power, but it was also a well known fact many followed him because they hated humans. Hated hunters.

Though you doubted any public outbursts would be tolerated. Dracula no doubt would handle everything. You hoped.

If you were being honest though, a small part of you wanted to see the reaction on some of his servant’s faces. You bet some of the jaw dropping looks would be one to remember for years to come.

Unfortunately, you probably wouldn’t even be here to witness it.

Even if by some miracle you managed to possibly hold off the destruction of the world, you still had to deal with your step family, after all. Jason was already making your step brothers inquire about you, which was never a good sign.

You were lucky they backed off this long, and would probably give you a little longer before growing too restless.

After all, you did give them a bit of an ass kicking. Even if it was at the cost of your own health and mental well being, it was a long time coming.

That, and you doubted you would get such an opportunity so soon in the future. Best enjoy it before heading back and become their punching bag once again.

At least you probably wouldn’t have to worry about them trying to jump you like that any time soon. The fact they seemed to almost intentionally try and fatally injure you… it settled uncomfortably in your core.

Given you were willing to actually defend yourself for once, perhaps they won’t attempt something stupid like that again.

Despite that, you didn’t want to get your hopes up, either. Even if you showed you wouldn’t take a beating to that degree without fighting back, that didn’t mean they wouldn’t get creative with it for a possible next time.

Still, that didn’t change the fact you still had to go home. Sooner rather than later.

But… you’d be back. Hopefully.

That was one of the conditions Dracula asked for. He wanted you to come back. He wanted to see you again.

You tried not to think too deep about it. Surely, it was both to help keep the compromise in place, and to learn more about the current century, and all he had missed?

A part of you though couldn’t help but… daydream about the idea of him just wanting to see you. For you.

He said he found you fascinating, after all. But again, a part of you didn’t want to think too hard about it.

For all you knew, his version of ‘fascinating’ was simply seeing you as some sort of entertaining bug or something. Should you become a pest, all he had to do was squish you with his shoe.

…You didn’t want to believe that either, though. Not with how those ruby red eyes looked at you when he first was freed. How he asked who had hurt you.

The very thought of that moment had your heart racing again.

“Am I really that emotionally starved?” you mumbled to yourself once again. That question had been popping in your mind the more you thought about it, and how just one man/vampire made you flustered like a teenager having a crush.

When was the last time anyone had looked you in the eyes while injured, and asked who had hurt you? Then took care of you?

You hated to admit it, but Dracula had charm that a lot of people didn’t have nowadays. Or at least from most people you have met up to this point.

No doubt he had to have had it in order to be considered the King of the Night. You don’t just get that without some sort of charisma, you’d think.

…A part of you was going to miss it. You really had to return home, which is why you were dreading sleep.

Tomorrow you would head home. You would be back here, of course. A part of the agreement, after all.

But you didn’t want to go, almost like a small child not wanting to go to school.

“Ugh.”

Your chest pinged with anxiety every time you closed your eyes. It was hard to even relax enough just to rest.

–

By the time you felt your phone buzzing with an alarm to wake you up, you had nothing to show for what you ‘slept’, except for a migraine and a brewing anxiety attack.

Eyes heavy, you sat up in bed. A bed you were very much going to miss.

Even now, as you shuffled out of bed towards your bag, you could already feel yourself yearning to stay. Like a child who felt unwell and wanted to skip school, except 20x worse.

Grabbing your bag, you quickly went through the stuff you had, making sure everything was still here.

You trusted Dracula just fine with your bag, but you didn’t trust any other entity in this castle to not try and pull a fast one on you.

As much as it felt like some sort of Looney Tunes plot, you weren’t gonna put it past some disgruntled monster or entity to put a stick of dynamite in your bag or something hoping to blow you up.

Thankfully, you didn’t have much on you to begin with, but it didn’t hurt to be sure.

Tossing your bag to the side, you ran a hand over your face, trying to soothe your head and anxieties.

However, you nearly jumped when you heard a specific knock on the door. That same one you had grown familiar with.

Just how had Dracula known you were awake? Was he just guessing, or did he know? Did the castle tell him?

…Or perhaps he heard you thumping around. That was also possible. You decided not to think too much on it at the moment.

“Come in.”

The doorknob turned, before the door was pushed open, revealing Dracula himself.

He entered your room, giving you a polite nod before closing the door behind him, and walking up to the bed. Much like before, he pulled a chair close and sat in front of you.

A part of you wondered if he was doing that to seem more on an equal level as you, though you didn’t dare ask or point it out.

Getting comfortable, Dracula’s eyes seemed to see through you as he settled. Those ruby red eyes practically pierced you, and he didn’t even have to say a word for you to feel a bit small.

Yet, his words next were so gentle.

“How are you feeling?”

Despite it all, a small smile appeared on your face at his question. Your eyes dropped, and you looked over to the side.

“I’ll live. Head kinda hurts, and I didn’t sleep too well. A me issue, don’t worry.”

A flicker of a frown appeared on his face, before his face cooled back to a more neutral look.

“I see. What about your wounds? Any irritation? Are the stitches still holding up?”

You tried to ignore the warm feeling bubbling in your chest again at his concern, despite how hard it seemed to persist.

“They are healing nicely. I only feel a dull ache now compared to the pain I was in a few days ago.”

It was true. You barely felt your wounds compared to how you felt when you arrived. Dracula had done a lot to help them heal, going farther than most people have for you.

Dracula though, looked over your body, his eyes lingering where your wounds lay.

“May I see? I would like to check on them myself.”

Blinking, you leaned back onto the bed slightly, not too surprised.

“Yeah, sure. Here-”

Immediately, he was up from his chair, gently hovering over you from a slight distance. Far enough away to still give you some personal space, yet close enough to check over you.

He was quick, yet still just as gentle. It didn’t take much for him to remove your bandages, and look over your healing injuries, making sure to look over them thoroughly.

You hoped he didn’t think anything of the goosebumps showing up on your skin whenever his hands or nails briefly brushed against your skin. Hopefully he would assume you were chilled from the air, or were reacting to how cool his own skin was.

Another part of you hoped that thinking didn’t seem too pathetic.

And in an even deeper part of your mind… a part of you wondered what he would do if he did think you liked his touch. That was a part of your mind you tried not to linger on too much while Dracula’s face was less than a foot away from your own.

Dracula hummed a bit as he checked over your worst injuries, as well as your head injury. You may not have known him long, but you could assume he seemed pleased with your progress.

Most of your wounds had mostly healed up into scabs, instead of raw and fresh ripped flesh. Something that no doubt would have taken at least two weeks on its own without the help of the few potions Dracula has been giving you.

It would still take some time for them to completely heal, but you were no longer at a huge risk of infection, or had to stay in bed to heal.

Truly, you owed Dracula a great debt. Another thing you were… feeling odd about.

Before you could dwell too much on it though, Dracula was carefully placing your bandages back on.

“Good. They are healing quickly. I’m pleased with your progress.”

You gave him a smile as he sat back down, trying not to soak in his words too much. You were happy he was happy with your healing! A totally normal thing to want and achieve!

While you were trying to mentally downplay the buzz in your head from his ‘praise’, Dracula’s eyes looked over to your bag, which sat innocently on the bed next to you.

“Ah, were you still planning on returning to your home today?” he suddenly asked, bringing you out of your thoughts.

Trying to keep your anxiety about the mere thought of your ‘home’ in check, you nodded.

“Yeah, if I am away too long, it could cause some issues. It’s best if I leave today.”

Dracula leaned against his hand, his other on thrumming against the arm of the chair. You wondered if that was something he did often.

“And you’ll return?”

You nodded quickly.

“Of course. We agreed on that, right? Though…” you began, your hands playing with your shirt, “...It may take me a few weeks to a month to come back, but I will be back.”

Giving you a look, Dracula’s expression turned almost teasing.

“I would hope so, I would hate to have to hunt you down myself, Little Belmont.”

His tone was clearly joking in nature, with his lips curling into a grin that showed off his fangs.

You chuckled a bit, rubbing the back of your neck. However, the way he said it had heat rushing to your face.

God, why did you like the sound of that? Why? Why did your brain like it so much? You swear there had to be a deity out there who found your suffering hilarious.

You didn’t think you would be finding so much stuff about yourself when you arrived here a few days ago. Apparently you had interesting tastes, and were into things you hadn’t even considered before now.

No doubt you would be unpacking a lot of that later, possibly in the middle of a mental breakdown. It was too soon to tell.

Coughing a bit to try and stop those thoughts, you looked back at Dracula.

“Regardless, I will try to be here next month. I should be healed by then too…” You spoke, mumbling that last bit. Dracula gave you an odd look, and you had a feeling he wasn’t too sure of that, just as you were.

Sighing, Dracula then stood up, and much to your surprise, held a hand out to you. You stared at it for a moment, before looking back at his face as he began to speak.

“Well, are you ready to leave? If so, I shall escort you out myself.”

Your eyes flickered to his hand, which was still outstretched to you. After a moment, you took it.

“Trying to get rid of me so soon?” you joked, ignoring how your smaller, warmer hand easily slid into his larger, cooler one.

Dracula’s lips twitched upward as his hand gently curled around your own.

“Maybe I am? Someone has to get rid of the ‘Scary Vampire Hunter’ apparently haunting my castle.”

His words were pure jest, and that had the small smile on your face widening as he gently pulled you up to your feet.

“Can you walk?” He then asked, still clearly worried over you leaving so soon. You managed to stand on your feet without too much issue, and looked back up at him.

“Eh, I’m still a bit sore, but I can walk. I’ll be fine.”

It still actually hurt quite a bit, but hey, you have had worse.

Dracula also didn’t seem very convinced, but at this point, who was he to argue with you when you wished to leave?

Regardless, you were still a bit surprised to see him offer an arm to you after you managed to gain your balance.

“May I?”

Seeing Dracula offer his arm to you did not help the blossoming feelings in your chest. Why did the man who was humanity’s greatest enemy have to be such a gentleman??

Your face was hot, and you prayed to whatever god was listening that your blush wasn’t too noticeable.

“S-Sure.” You spoke, mentally hitting yourself with a hammer for stuttering.

Slowly, you reached out, nearly hesitating as your hand neared his arm. Gathering your resolve, you gently wrapped your own arm around his own.

He wasn’t as cold as you expected, despite him wearing a long sleeved shirt. Though it was hard for you to think as you registered just how big he was as you felt his muscles underneath said shirt.

Then, you nearly jumped when your bag was suddenly hovering in front of your face. You had nearly forgotten it on the bed behind you. Carefully, you grabbed it with your free hand with a quiet ‘thank you’.

“It is no issue at all. Shall we?” He spoke, looking down at you.

Oh stars, how he made you feel small.

“Yes.”

With that, he gently walked to the door, opening it with a flick of his wrist, and leading you out into the hall.

His pace was most likely slow for himself, given you were positive his stride easily would outdo yours. However, Dracula took his time so you could easily keep up.

You found you didn’t particularly mind. If anything, it gave you the perfect opportunity to admire the decor of his castle.

Castlevania had been described in many different ways from the journals you had read. Some said horrifying and confusing, while others spoke of it as if it were gorgeous, yet almost fake feeling.

You found yourself mentally describing it as hauntingly beautiful.

Just the hall outside your room was nothing less than extravagant. Dark red curtains hung above the giant windows that seemed to lead to a courtyard, while painting after painting adorned the walls between each window.

Each painting was unfamiliar to you, but they still astounded you all the same.

Dracula noticed your awe, and his lips curled into a smile.

“The castle, being connected to me, usually inherits my tastes. Though I’ve noticed it has a fondness for decorating on its own, and even has preferences. For instance…”

He paused in front of one of the massive windows overlooking a garden.

“The gardens always look a bit different, but it is fond of giant fountains. Nearly every iteration has one without my interference, though it is pleasing to see.”

You tried not to giggle at that. The thought of a sentient castle being fond of giant fountains and having decoration preferences was so silly, yet given what you were looking at, was very possible.

Dracula and you didn’t linger long at the window, but after that, Dracula almost enthusiastically pointed out different decorations and what some of them meant to him.

It was little things, such as his tastes in candelabras, or the story behind every other painting. Apparently there were many immortals who dabbled in the arts.

You wouldn’t lie. Walking through his castle was very… surreal.

This was a place you were supposed to storm through. A place you were supposed to look at with disgust and revulsion.

Yet, you were fascinated, despite being on edge.

Only one of your ancestors remarked on the beauty the castle had. Juste, you think was his name.

Juste had written how the castle had a strange charm to it, among all the horrors he saw. Apparently he had an eye for detail and decor, and briefly wrote about how he had found it fascinating before destroying Dracula’s wraith, thus destroying the castle.

You could kind of see what he meant now that you were seeing it first hand, even if it was most likely incredibly different than when your ancestor had run through here.

It didn’t take as long as you thought to get to the entrance hall, which was covered with a lush red carpet, and filled with different displays and extravagant furniture.

A part of you wondered if this was what some castles were like hundreds of years ago, just with a more modern touch. Maybe he’d tell you one day?

After all, you agreed to come back. You’d hopefully have plenty of opportunities for questions.

One thing though you did notice walking through the entry hall, was the uptick of monsters.

There were suits of armor you passed, where you could sense enchantments on them, each standing at attention.

That, and maids were here and there, cleaning or tidying up. You could tell most weren’t human just by looking at them, but that was none of your concern. At least not at the moment, so long as they didn’t attack you.

They kept their distance, but you felt all their stares. Some looked at you curious, before averting their eyes. While others gave you cold smiles. You suppose you didn’t blame them.

Ignoring their looks, you felt your heart pound in your chest the closer you got to the massive door.

It looked different.

Instead of a worn down door that looked as if it had been left to rot, was a magnificent massive door that looked warm and taken care of.

And imposing. Very imposing.

Then again, that was most likely the point, even if you were looking at it from the inside. You could only wonder how it looked outside…

You didn’t have to wonder long. The moment you both approached the giant door, it opened completely on its own, as if the castle itself was opening the door for its master.

Despite having been around Dracula a little bit, his impressive feats of magic and mastery over the castle still seemed to awe you.

A part of you also wondered if he was doing that on purpose to show off. You wouldn’t be surprised with how he would occasionally look at you after doing something with magic.

Magic itself wasn’t new to you, but all that he could do? Especially when it wasn’t combat related? It was a bit impressive, you’d admit it.

As he walked you through the large doorway, you noticed the courtyard between the entrance and the gate had also changed. What was overgrown, wild shrubbery and trees was now a full garden. The plants seemed alive, but in a way that was almost… unreal.

He guided you through the courtyard, his arm still entwined with your own.

It didn’t take long before you were at the gate, and he came to a stop. Looking down at you, he posed a question that had your heart thrum in your chest.

“Is this fine, or do you require assistance to your cabin?”

His question caught you off guard slightly. You hadn’t anticipated him asking, nor had you thought that far.

“N-No, I’ll be alright. Thank you.”

A part of you really really wanted to say yes, so this moment lasted a while longer. So you didn’t have to say farewell.

But the rational part of you screamed no. Even if you somewhat trusted this man, were you ready to let him know about your cabin? How to approach it? What if you both were followed? Did you want anyone possibly seeing any weaknesses in your defenses?

No, the hunter in your brain won out. You couldn’t risk anyone finding your defenses, or rummaging through the one sanctuary you had.

You just hoped Dracula wouldn’t take it personally if he or one of his underlings investigated your cabin and exploded or something from one of the traps or wards.

Dracula meanwhile gave you a long look. If you didn’t know any better, you’d even say it was disappointment you saw in those ruby colored eyes of his. With a sigh, he gently let your arm go from his own, turning to face you properly.

“Very well. I shall await your inevitable return. Do not keep me waiting too long, Little Belmont.”

You already missed him. How?

Slowly, you nodded your head.

“Of course. Um…”

A part of you felt so awkward already.

“See you soon?”

Mentally, you were smacking your head against the wall. Did you really just tell the Lord of Darkness ‘see you soon’? You wanted to explode.

However, most of your embarrassment almost melted completely away when he gave you a small smile.

“Indeed. See you soon.”

You stared at him for a moment, you both seemingly unable to look away. It wasn’t until a rumble of thunder broke your gaze away, and you stared at the long walk at the edge of the lake you would have to trek.

With a sigh, you turned, and began to walk.

Already, you were regretting not taking him up on his offer. But it had to be done this way.

RIght?

Your heart was heavy in your chest as you pushed forward with every step. You couldn’t even muster up the courage to look back as you crossed the edge of the lake towards the forest.

At least, you couldn’t until you reached the edge of the clearing.

Already you were tired, but you couldn’t help but finally look back behind you. Back towards Dracula’s castle.

Your eyes widened when you did.

The castle, something that should have horrified you, was gorgeous surrounded by clouds and the forest. Its image even seemed to eerily reflect back at the lake despite the clouds above.

And Dracula remained in front of it, watching you.

It was hard to see from so far away, but you could just barely make out his cloak spiraling out behind him in the wind. He was watching you leave.

Was it to make sure you were really fine? Was it genuine concern? Why else would he watch over you while you left?

…Did he actually enjoy your company? Did he already miss it?

It took more effort than you would like to admit to swallow down the warmth bubbling in your chest.

How silly.

No need to get your hopes up. You hoped that at least a few days away from this place might clear your head. Surely that’ll make these confusing feelings go away. Right? Right?

You just hoped this wouldn’t mess up how you perceived your cabin… You already came to terms with your sanctuary being next to an empty castle. Now it is alive, and its king has an interest in you and your motivations.

With a sigh, and one last long look at the castle (and its owner out front), you turned back to the woods.

Each step back was heavy, and you felt as if you were in a daze. If it weren’t for the fact you had been bewitched before and knew how it felt, you would have wondered if you had been enthralled by some sort of spell.

At least you were self aware enough to walk back to your peaceful abode with caution.

You checked your traps as you went, watching your step as you did so. Thankfully, most were undisturbed except for one or two traps. Those you suspect were simply disturbed by animals rather than monsters looking for a meal.

Well, you at least hoped that was the case. You didn’t sense any paranormal residue of any sort, but that wasn’t a guarantee…

Still, you took enough time to go over most you came across, and as your cabin came into view, you checked around the building.

It was tiring, but quick with how your mind was still a buzz. At least nothing seemed out of place.

Just… a few blood stains from when you were here last and critically injured. Oops.

You sighed, debating if you should leave it as a problem for future you. Not like this place and your home were lacking in blood stains if you looked hard enough. What were a few more?

Still, you didn’t just want to leave it there, so you at least cleaned it up a little bit so you wouldn’t come back to a gross smell. Well, at least a worse smell, anyway. The blood didn’t do your cabin any favors, but hey, it could be worse.

You’d clean it properly and make it spotless when you came back. Eventually. Hopefully. Maybe.

Whatever.

It didn’t take long, but it was clear what you were doing. Trying to keep yourself distracted while in this fog. Trying to buy time before you head home. Buying time before the reality of everything that had happened hit you.

You didn’t get as much time as you would have liked.

Thankfully, since everything else in your cabin was untouched after a quick sweep, you didn’t take much longer to leave said cabin. Even if you wanted more time, it was a weight off your shoulders that you didn’t have to worry about anything being… tampered with.

All you had to do was toss your bag in your car, set your whip aside, and drive off.

Should you be driving while in such a state? No, but you didn’t exactly have the luxury of keeping your home waiting much longer.

The drive itself wasn’t long, or at least, it didn’t feel like it. With each mile, the clouds began to part, and the sun began to shine. It was almost insane how much reach the castle had in terms of weather.

Or was it Dracula’s influence? You wondered if he’d tell you if you asked next time you saw him.

Next time. Right.

Your grip on the wheel tightened, and you could feel your anxiety peaking as you drove further from the cabin. From the castle. Only to grow closer to your home.

…Would they all be there? Your step family?

Dread was already pooling in your gut as you imagined them waiting for you at home. Would they be extra pissed? Would they do something reckless?

With the shit they pulled last time… You weren’t so sure you would be safe. Even if you scared them a bit, you feared you only pissed them off more. If they were willing to fatally injure you so blatantly in ‘training’...

You feared what they might do since they didn’t succeed, and you couldn’t do a thing about it until they acted.

Sweat began to form on your temple as your heart uncomfortably began to beat faster. You felt ill. Felt like you were cornered by a pack of werewolves who were starved for a meal, and you weren’t even at your house yet.

Yet as your city came into view, you felt worse.

Would they scream at you? Yell at you? Call you worthless?

Or would Jason lash out, and finally attack you? You knew he had been holding himself back, but after last time…

What about your home? Was it in good condition? Or did they start destroying things? You wouldn’t be surprised if your room was destroyed.

Worse… would they kick you out?

You had no real legal standing if they kicked you out. All your family’s artifacts, weapons, and history… gone.

They would never give it back to you, or any of your living family members across the globe. No doubt they would simply will everything to themselves if anything happened to one of them.

Why did your mother leave everything to them?

It wasn’t fair.

You were beginning to feel even worse thinking about it.

Still, you forced yourself to swallow what felt like bile rising from your throat as you pulled onto your street outside of the city. Getting sick wouldn’t solve any of your problems, and would most likely make things worse.

But you could barely fight the rising panic as your family home came into view.

It was never so daunting and imposing before now. A place filled with light in your childhood now brought you nothing but terror and anxiety just looking at it as you drove closer.

As you pulled into your driveway though, you paused, and stopped your car.

No cars were outside.

No cars in the driveway or out front, and if you were lucky, not in the garage either. But at least your step brothers were gone.

The way your body practically sagged in relief. Even if somehow Jason was home, that was better than having to confront all three at the same time after getting back right away.

Taking a deep breath, you turned off the engine, and climbed out of the car. You only grabbed your bag, keeping anything else locked inside.

It took a few moments to gather your courage, before you slowly unlocked and opened the front door.

You waited a few moments, holding your breath as each tense moment passed.

Nothing.

It was dark, and you heard all the familiar creaks, but no footsteps. No sounds of a TV. No talking in the distance.

Carefully, you stepped inside, and quietly closed the door behind you.

There was still nothing.

Were you truly home alone?

A part of you wanted to relax, but the hunter in you stayed alert. With silent footsteps, you headed to the garage just to be safe. There was no one on the way there, and when you opened the garage door?

Nothing.

Closing it, you laid your back against the door, hand over your heart as you tried to calm down.

You were actually home alone for once.

Did they have a hunt? Need supplies and go shopping since you were gone?

Either way, it didn’t matter. You were home alone, and that was most important at the moment. You could let your guard down for a little while.

At least, until whenever they came home.

With a huge weight temporarily off your shoulders, you made your way to your room, a small plan in mind.

First, you needed to change clothes. You were thankful for the clothes Dracula had lent you, but… what you had on was a little dated. Even if you liked how the loose, puffy shirt looked on you, and the comfortable pants… No doubt there would be questions why you were wearing clothing that was popular in a different century.

Then you needed to shower, and write down some stuff you needed to do going forward. Maybe even get some sleep before anyone gets home…

Sitting down on your bed with a messy plan in mind, you reached into your bag to get your dirty clothes out for you to wash later.

As you rummaged through it, you froze when you felt something new inside it.

Thoughts ran through your mind as your blood ran cold. Have you been had? Did someone plant a bomb or a weapon in your bag? Did Dracula betray you?

Carefully, your hand grasped the cool object, before slowly pulling out of your bag.

You couldn’t help the small gasp that left your mouth when you pulled out a potion bottle.

“When…?”

Looking over the bottle, you noticed a tag attached to the cork, and gently held it still as you made out the intricate cursive on the note.

‘I figured you could use this. It should be enough to finish healing your wounds. I hope you put it to good use.

Sincerely,

~VDT.’

You didn’t notice you were beginning to cry, until your vision became blurry with hot tears.

“VDT…. Vlad… Dracula Țepeș…?” You asked out loud with a sniffle.

He didn’t betray you. At some point, he must have slipped this in your bag after his last visit as he escorted you out. How?

It was a silly question to ask, given the immense power he held… but…

You sniffled again, tears hitting your leg as everything slowly began to hit you at once.

Despite it all…

…Dracula went out of his way to heal you, and even made sure you had something for when you got home.

More tears began to form as you carefully cradled the small note to your chest.

Dracula at least cared about you, when no one else did.

That thought both thrilled and terrified you to the core.

…Because you were certain you cared for him back.

#castlevania #dracula #vlad dracula tepes #castlevania x reader #dracula x reader #reader insert #x reader #belmont!reader #gender neutral reader #gn reader #cw anxiety #love that bites #ltb #fanfic #fanfiction #long post #zed.writes #chapter 14

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reysdriver · 10 months ago

Note

Hi! This is the first time that I ask for a request so I’m sorry if I’m doing it wrong!

Can you please write a [Eddie Munson+”You’re drunk, you don’t mean that” (Angst prompt 13)+ Your dating him! And your at a party with him and he gets SUPER drunk, you try and tell him that he has had enough alcohol and that is time to go home. He ignores you but you keep telling him that over and over again. At one point he tells you to stop, he tells you really hurtful things. Like he tells you that he hates you and that your always so clingy. The ending is up to you]

I hope you can write it! Thank you!!

(I just read your prompt list and this is definitely not going to be my last request, HAHAHAHAHA sorry in advance)

You and Eddie get into a fight after you convince him to skip a date and go to your friend Steve's party instead — eddie x fem!reader angst

warnings: angst, verbal fighting, fighting in public, alcohol (but no drunk driving here), underage drinking

words: 1.7k

a/n: I'm sorry this took me so long to get to, and that I changed the fight a little bit but I still hope you like it and want to send more requests in the future because I do like this a lot!

Hawkins’ own King Steve Harrington knew how to throw a party; Christmas, Halloween, New Year’s Eve, or even just a random night when his parents weren’t home like today.

You and Eddie were actually supposed to see a movie and then just spend the night just lounging about in his trailer, but you had convinced him that the two of you should ditch the movie and spend some time visiting Steve and checking out his little get together.

As reluctant as he was, he would never reject an opportunity for free alcohol and time with you, so he agreed that you would both go for a little bit.

Eddie picked you up, the two of you had fast food in his van, and then he drove you down to Steve’s neighbourhood. He insisted on parking about a block down—as if there was any space available on Steve’s street—as his van is a common target for vandalism by a lot of the jocks at school who commonly frequent the parties held at the Harrington household.

As always, he got out of the car before you and told you to stay seated so he could open your door for you with an exaggerated bow like you were a princess arriving at the ball in your carriage.

Once he ushered you out of the carriage, you began walking towards Steve’s house, following the trail of cars parked by teenagers who haven’t yet mastered parallel parking.

“Alright, just a drink or two, we’ll say hi to all your friends, and then we leave, right?” Eddie asked, confirming the plan you had loosely made before.

“Yeah.” You said. “But, I mean, if we feel like we’re having fun, there’s no harm in skipping out on our other plans and staying here instead.”

He looked at you with a raised eyebrow. “No one really has fun at these things. Everyone’s just pretending so they can fit in with the crowd of people who are also pretending. It’s fucked.”

“Whatever you say, babe.” As you approached the Harrington house doors, you gave Eddie a last-minute reminder. “But, just for the night, it might be nice to pretend you’re having a good time too.”

The two of you walked through the door and into the crowd of fellow teenagers, and you knew Eddie would have said something snarky if it weren’t for Steve spotting you immediately and calling your name loudly and happily.

“I didn’t think you were coming! Do you want a drink?”

“Yeah, that sounds nice.” You nodded, then turned to your boyfriend. “Eds, you want one too?”

“Absolutely. There’s no way I’m getting through this thing sober.”

Before you could say anything in response to that, Steve laughed loudly—clearly already buzzed—and announced that he would bring you and Eddie a cup each.

You were about to take your boyfriend’s hand and follow Steve to get the drinks he was currently pouring, but one of your friends squealed your name from across the room, catching your attention.

“Go, you came here to have fun with friends.” Eddie told you. “I’ll get the drinks and find you soon.”

You smiled at him and pressed a kiss on his cheek. “Thanks, Eds. You’re too sweet.” Then, you squeezed his hand quickly before trying to find your friend again in this crowd of drunken high schoolers.

Time flies when you’re having fun. You hadn’t even noticed the time passing while you were chatting and dancing with your friends, or how you hadn’t even had a single drink because you haven’t seen Eddie since you parted ways with him all night.

As soon as you really noticed, you excused yourself away from your friends and started looking around the room for Eddie. You couldn’t find him in the living room where you were, but when you saw his dark curls in the backyard by the window, you wormed your way out of the crowd and started walking towards him.

“Eddie!” You called, but he didn’t turn around even though you were definitely within earshot.

He just kept walking, trudging towards the beer keg where Steve was currently keeping up with his keg stand record. You finally caught up with your boyfriend and you tapped his shoulder to get his attention.

“Hey, stranger, where have you been all night?” You asked him, your cheeriness masking the involuntary scrunch of your face at his potent stench of cheap beer and fruit punch spiked with expensive vodka.

He turned around, but you were shocked at how he was missing the smile he had on last time you saw him, and how it was instead replaced with a tired frown you can’t recall him ever using on you.

“Are you okay, Eds?”

He brushed off your concern. “I’m fine.”

He was clearly lying to you, but you were choosing to think it was just because he was drunk or because you were in a very public space.

“You don’t seem fine.” You told him. “Come on, we can find somewhere private to talk if—”

“I don’t wanna talk. I’m having fun here; isn’t that what you wanted?”

You were taken aback. He had never kept such a biting tone with you, and you weren’t sure where it was coming from.

“Eddie, maybe we should go home now.”

“No.”

“Eddie, you’ve had a bit too much to drink.” Your voice was as firm as you could get it despite wanting to cry in front of all these people. “It’s time to go home.”

“You’re impossible!” He was starting to raise his voice, and suddenly you felt like there were a million sets of eyes on you. “You drag me here, leave with your friends, and then when I actually find a way to have fun, you want to drag me away! I can’t stand you, and I definitely don’t want to go hone with you right now! So either get me another drink or get the hell away from me.”

Your heart sank like the anchor of a cruise ship. It hurt to even look at your boyfriend, so you looked around you for something to fix your gaze onto while you tried to gather your feelings. There were fewer people than you had imagined looking at you—most were one drink away from blackout drunk and couldn’t care less about this altercation—but there were still far too many for your liking.

You just wanted to get out of here more than anything. You wanted to leave when you noticed how drunk Eddie was, and your want increased tenfold since then.

“You’re drunk. You don’t mean that, but I’ll still give you what you want and leave.” Your voice was shaking, and it was somewhat shocking that you weren’t straight-up sobbing as you spoke. “I’ll ask Steve to let you stay here overnight so you don’t drive home like this, and I can find my own ride. Goodnight, Eddie.”

And with that, you left. You went looking with Steve, who had since left his position at the beer keg. Eddie didn’t seem to care at all.

The quest to find Steve didn’t take too long as he was just in the kitchen, but in that short amount of time, the tears that were just welling up a few seconds ago had now made their way down your face. You tried to wipe them away before you talked to your friend, but he noticed you walking towards him before you could swipe your hands across your cheeks.

“Hey, hey, hey, what’s wrong?” Steve asked you, placing his hands on your upper arms. His speech was slurred but he still kept his kindness in this drunken state.

“Eddie and I just got in a fight outside, but it’s fine. I’m just going to go home, but he’s off his face drunk, so can you let him crash here so he doesn’t drive?”

“Yeah, no problem.” He said honestly. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay here too?”

You shook your head. “No, but thank you. The party was really fun, but I just have to leave.”

A friend of yours was nearby and you told her you needed a ride home, and it just so happened she was ready to leave too, so it was about as perfect as it could be given the circumstances. Steve offered to walk you both down the street to your friend’s car, and you wouldn’t refuse that.

The three of you started to walk across the house to the front door, but Eddie had apparently moved as you walked past him in the living room. And he must have had some sort of change of heart as he tried to get your attention by grabbing your hand.

“Baby, don’t go yet.”

You pulled his large hand off of your wrist.

“We can talk later, when you’ve sobered up.” You told him, then turned away and kept walking away.

He followed you, desperate to fix what happened, but Steve stopped him before he could leave the house. He stood in the middle of the doorway and held his hands on either side of the doorframe.

“Come on, big boy, let me talk to her.” Eddie pleaded angrily.

“After you inevitably pass out on the couch and then sober up, yeah.”

Eddie looked over Steve’s shoulder and saw you getting into the passenger seat of your friend’s car. He kept trying to bargain with Steve and push him out of the way until he saw the car you were in start driving and take off down the street.

He cursed himself and Steve finally moved away. Eddie was about to run to his car but stopped when he took about seven steps and his head was already spinning so hard he couldn’t see anything in front of him.

He definitely couldn’t do it tonight, but he would make it up to you as soon as he stopped seeing stars.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things angst

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ambrosialdesire · 4 months ago

Note

OMG i would like to request yandere bertolt x paradis reader.you can pick whatever part of the timeline you want, maybe he managed to survive to take her to marly, or maybe she just tried to escape on marly or paradis, or maybe he just kidnapped her I don't really care

Thank you

desiderate

18+ DARK CONTENT BELOW, MINORS AND BLANK BLOGS DNI

pairing: s4 bertolt x fem!reader word count: 9.5k warnings + tags: general yandere and obsessive themes, unhealthy relationships, some explicit sexual content, s4 bertolt au, implied non-con, violence, kidnapping mention, stalking, forced kissing (kinda dubcon), slight groping, kinda masochistic bertolt, cigarette usage/smoking, blood kink, knife kink, slight voyeurism, male masturbation mention, panty jerking off mention (?), slight body mutilation, scarification implications, all characters are 18+ synopsis: they've brought you here on this foreign land, a land that was once believed to be completely overrun with monsters. you've been living pretty easy with this new life of yours but it's hard to forget about what he's done to your old home. this singular man, capable of complete destruction despite his nervous demeanor. there may be humans here but the true monster still remained, watching your every move until he was ready to strike. a/n: IM NGL IVE BEEN WAITING FOR SOMEONE TO REQUEST BERTOLT LMFAO i made bro a creep cause i feel like between bertie and reiner, bertie definitely has the tendency to be lurking and stalking behind corners and constantly following you and finding to opportunity to snatch your underwear to jerk off into LOL the reference that i used for s4 bertolt is this fanart that was used in a tiktok edit but i have no idea who made the art and it's making me scream bc it's definitely how i imagine what he looks like (but with thicker chin stubble) and i want to give the right creds (if you look up s4 bertolt/bertholdt fanart on google and see a tiktok image of him smoking, that's what i'm talking about but i want to give actual creds to the artist) also mb on the smoking scenes idk how it feels to smoke but i do sorta know the distinct smell of it this is also in no way connected to the cacoëthes series just to let yall know hehe i hope you enjoy this anon! thank sm for your request!! and sorry for the wait LOL note: please keep in mind of the tags above and do not proceed if triggering or uncomfortable, especially if you are a minor!! do not read my or any other writers' dark content if you are underaged. this is a fictional work and does not reflect irl morals, do not believe this is how a real romance works or functions.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.───

"Call off your damn hound Reiner, I'm getting sick of his shit."

Pushing past the blond as you entered his home, you made your way to his dining table. You huffed as you sat down, leaning back against the chair as your boot-covered legs kicked up on the wooden table. Reiner rolled his eyes, pushing them back down to the ground with a heavy thud. He crossed his arms, leaning on the wall adjacent from where you sat.

"A hello first would suffice. What's Bertolt getting himself into again?"

"My business!" Exasperated, you threw your hands over your face. "He keeps fucking following me and it's starting to freak me out. You guys know I'm not suspicious anymore, there's no way for me to be able to contact Paradis Island at all."

Saying your old home's name had started to feel foreign on your tongue unfortunately. It's been over four years since you've been whisked away by these two assholes and living here has been nothing but a thorn on your side. You worked under the Warrior Unit, mostly a simple soldier for both Bertolt and Reiner to boss around for basic things. It's nothing different from your time as a scout but it's frustrating working for them instead of with them.

You don't know why they took you away with them instead of breaking out their other accomplice, Annie, but after a handful of screaming, punching, kicking, and biting from you, they managed to drag you off to the boat. You stayed there for an estimated week or so with random strangers coming and going, poking and prodding at you as if you were one of Hange's experiments on Eren and randomly caught Titans.

The two of them finally came back one random night unconscious, battered and beaten to the point where their Titan healing powers couldn't even help them fast enough. You needed them alive — how else were you going to manage escaping this unknown place of theirs — so you helped tend to their wounds, staying at their sides until they were finally awake.

Once they were conscious enough, you punched Reiner square on the nose, spinning around to smash your knuckles right into Bertolt's cheek. Your hand was throbbing in pain but the burning fury you felt was stronger. By the time they woke up, the boat already was leaving the docks, and now you were most likely already miles away from home.

"You fucking assholes."

Blood was dripping down his nose, while a cut just barely formed on the bruised skin of the other. It was in vain however. Steam was steadily coming out of the two of them, meaning that the healing was back in working condition.

"FUCK! I didn't even say anything yet!" Reiner scowled as he placed his hands around his nose, snapping it back in place with a nauseating crack.

Bertolt laid there quietly however, lanky fingers brushing against the welt on his face but he was unable to meet your stare. Tears started streaming down your face, your body crumpling to the floor. You were completely hurt, you trusted these two like they were family, especially Bertolt. Was he really who you thought he was? How could they do this to you? To everyone back in Paradis?

"Why? Why me?"

The two of them fell even more silent, Reiner looking up at the ceiling while Bertolt closed his eyes shut as if he was the one that was currently going through it.

"Well say something goddamnit! Why am I here?" You were beyond angry, voice crackling from how loud you were screaming at them. "Tell me!"

Bertolt finally opened his eyes, pale green staring into yours. You couldn't see him. There was only the Colossal Titan looking down at you as if you were nothing but an insignificant speck on the wall. He opened his mouth, uttering remorselessly one phrase that made you even more resentful of their entire beings.

"I'm sorry."

Now you were here after long months of being processed and interviewed over and over by many Marleyan higher-ups, eventually and finally gaining their trust. You knew they still didn't like you but who really gives a shit, they left you alive and that's all you could be grateful for.

Since you directly worked underneath the two Titan shifters, they were able to get you housing and some basic supplies for you to be able to function properly in their society, as well as a good amount of pocket money to buy whatever you needed. You didn't go out of the house for a month though, still horribly and rightfully angry at them. You were also afraid of the idea that you'd get mobbed immediately once you stepped out and killed on sight by the locals.

Bertolt was the one that finally knocked on your door, tired and baggy eyes focused on the peephole. Part of you wanted to keep the door closed and ignore his presence, but he might report you or something stupidly petty. When you opened it up, the faint waft of bitter tobacco invaded your senses, nose wrinkling at the unfamiliar smell.

As you looked up at him, he felt and looked even more like a stranger than a past friend. It's only been a month but it looked like he had gotten broader at the shoulders and taller. He was wearing a beige uniform, a white undershirt and black tie peeking out of the chest of the long, belted trench coat. His black hair was partially pushed back with gel, slightly being more grown out from the last time you saw him. The way he held himself now in Marley was completely different from Paradis, an eerie calmness surrounding his person. He used to hunch into himself when he was a trainee and a soldier, but now his back was rigid and straight, arms hidden neatly behind his back. The posture reminded you of the utmost dedicated soldiers in the Scout Regiment.

"You haven't been going to work." He softly spoke, his head slightly tilting to the side.

"So?"

"Failure to comply means termination. Termination means you'll get kicked out of Marley. Getting kicked out of Marley means death." Alright, straight to the point. Even the way he was speaking sounded different, as if he had suddenly gained a newfound confidence that was only present here in his homeland.

"You guys really thought I was able to function properly in a new continent where everything is different in a few months? Not to mention, I'm still pissed off at the two of you but fine. I'll come in tomorrow. Goodbye." You proceeded to close the door on him but he stopped it with his boot. Groaning under your breath, you tried pushing at the door so he could back off, but it was to no avail.

His hand grabbed the side of the door and heaved it open with little struggle, letting himself in as you toppled back into the ground from the force.

"You haven't been going out at all. When's the last time you bought groceries?" You flinched, avoiding his judging gaze. How did he know?

"Last month." You muttered as you got up from the ground, brushing yourself off.

Bertolt sighed, glancing off to the side. "Okay. I'll wait here for 15 minutes. Go get dressed and get your money, I'll help you navigate the markets."

You didn't want to but food was definitely running low, and you don't know how long the canned meat in your pantry was going to last in your anger-riddled protest. You made your way upstairs, rummaging through the closet and grabbing the cleanest clothes you were able to find and put on within the time limit he gave. Making your way back down, you found him in the exact same spot, his eyes glancing around the living room.

"Alright. Let's go and we're going to make it quick. I don't think I can stomach standing next to you for this long." You bitterly grumbled, moodily pulling the door open. Bertolt followed after, closing the door for you and taking the lead. What sucked even more was how quickly you had to dash after him, his steps being too large for you to have a steady pace next to him. Maybe him being a near giant compared to a normal person — you noticed as the two of you walked through crowds of people — was thanks to the Titan DNA.

Each passerby gave you a look as you walked on through but never spared a second glance, which was good. You knew that you were an unfamiliar being, a foreigner that was never supposed to be here in the first place. The farmer's market was still open, vegetables and fruits neatly lined up in each stall. He did most of the talking, being able to haggle easier due to his status and the blaring armband that wrapped around his upper arm. You didn't like having to be publicly labeled, it felt like you were merely a product rather than a person.

You were focusing on a stall with jars of honey and jams when some person suddenly shoved you aside with their shoulder, body suddenly losing its balance due to the amount of groceries you were holding on one arm. You prepared for the impact of the cobbled ground but never felt it, instead feeling a firm hand snug in-between your curve of your side and another on your shoulder.

"Careful now." You opened your eyes, meeting his in shock once he steadied you back on your feet. Bertolt's face soon turned to a bright red, his hands quickly leaving you, and his gaze glancing away. Perhaps there really is still some semblance of the man you knew in your homeland.

"Th-thanks..." Adjusting the bag stiffly back up your arms, you proceeded forwards without him, leaving him behind at the stall. It became a usual thing eventually, he'd come over every two weeks to make sure you were fine and the two of you would go out buying your necessities for an hour or two. It didn't erase the fact that you still hated them, but at least he was helping you get comfortable in this strange new world.

You finally started going to work as promised, wearing an awkward and stuffy white uniform that made even the tangling straps of the cadet uniform pale in comparison. According to the paper that came with the uniform, you were to report to Reiner and Bertolt in one of the headquarters' rooms. However, the details were so vague that you were completely lost in the beginning, roaming the hallways without a clue where you were heading.

"Soldier. Face me."

You stiffened, turning around and straightening up. The tall man was vaguely familiar, a full blond beard lining his face and round spectacles hiding his eyes. His right hand raised up as if he was saying hello and you quickly returned the gesture, somewhat remembering that it was their version of a salute.

"Name and ranking?"

"Y/N L/N, er... I'm not sure of my ranking sir. I just know I'm assigned to work for the Vice Captain and one of the Warriors?" You shuffled your feet awkwardly and he nodded, gesturing his hand for you to follow him. He started scratching his ear as he walked, as if he was in thought. To you, he really felt familiar but you couldn't quite place where the feeling belonged.

"Ah yes," His eyes glanced at you, the blue color peeking out from behind the glasses. "Now I remember. You're Reiner and Bertolt's human souvenir from the devil island, aren't you?"

Is that what they called you? And how dare he call your home a devil island! A bubble of anger was rising within you, but you didn't want to take it out on the older man that was helping you find your way. He had to be a higher-up based on his demeanor and you'd rather not get in more trouble.

"...Yes sir, I am."

"You were supposed to be here a month ago." You cringed internally but nodded slowly.

"It's my fault sir. I've only been here for a few months and everything is too... new. I hope my absence didn't affect anything." The man simply hummed, stopping at a door with the words 'WARRIORS UNIT' neatly carved into the wood. You pulled the door for him, letting him saunter in before you entered.

"I found your little pet, you two." His hand pressed against the small of your back, pushing you forwards towards a table where the two of them sat. They looked completely exhausted and were partially bandaged up, quietly sparing a glance at you with a short wave.

You settled yourself in-between them, about to thank the man for helping you but he was already stepping away, going outside to light up a cigarette.

"Don't mind Zeke, he's just... eccentric like that. Hope he didn't offend you." Reiner pushed a pile of papers towards you to sort once you turned back to them, saying something about piling them from who sent them; the important files being from the commander and the Marleyan superiors and the unimportant files being from other soldiers. It slowly dawned on you that you became some sort of assistant to them, a glorified secretary for their war schemes.

"It's nothing too difficult, you're lucky to get this kind of work compared to us and the other Eldian soldiers." Bertolt slightly smiled, continuing to read a paper in his hands and you sighed quietly, beginning to sort. Part of you was grateful you didn't have to face war anymore, but the other part didn't want to be treated differently. Maybe the Marleyans thought that you'd defect once you were on the field or kill as many as you can with a weapon in your hands, going out in a blaze of glory. You never held a gun before though and it was most likely that everyone in this military could shoot you down before you could aim it at one person.

An hour or two passed by and you finished up the sorting, neatly tapping them together. It really wasn't a difficult task at all, were they going to make you do something else for today? You quietly waited for any orders, the two focused on their own thing until Reiner suddenly got up.

"I'll go get lunch for us. Y/N, you can relax for now, there's nothing else we need from you today. Good work." He ruffled the top of your head playfully, just like he did before after a training session in the corps. The blond soon left the room, leaving only Bertolt and you alone.

The two of you sat in silence, your hands fiddling with the seams of your uniform. Was sorting the only thing you're going to be doing during your time here? You'd quit within the month if that was the case but if not, maybe in due time you'll save enough money to open up your own shop. You've always wanted to sell clothing back in Paradis, just like your mother and father.

"You look good in the uniform." Bertolt finally mumbled out, the sound of a paper flipping over barely making it audible. You slightly flushed at the comment, diverting your attention to the closest wall in sight.

"Really? I feel like a wet cotton ball, it's so uncomfortable. The scouts uniform is way better." You grumbled, tugging at the cloth around your legs.

He slightly laughed at that, shaking his head. "No way. The scouts uniform was too tight, not to mention the straps were always so difficult to put on."

"Maybe it's cause you're a literal giant compared to everyone there. I just know they had to customize a whole other set for your ass." He snorted and started laughing, dropping the paper in his hand. You couldn't help but let out a few chuckles as well, crossing your arms together. The two of you bantered for a little bit longer and just for a second, it felt like you were right back home in the training corps canteen.

Everything fuzzed out in your hearing and you soon found yourself comparing home to here. The smells were different, not quite fresh as the countryside air and had a more smoky tone with every breath you took. The sights were different, more machinery was seen rather than grassy fields and trees. The people were different, there was no one recognizable to chat with besides your kidnappers. Everything here had entirely evolved and you were being forced to adapt to it. The realization made you feel a drop in your stomach, tears beginning to form in the corners of your eyes.

"Bertolt."

"Hm?"

"I want to go back home." Your voice was meek, heavy droplets falling down and staining the white fabric beneath you. His body stiffened and he got up from his chair, almost slamming it into the table when he pushed it in.

"This is your home." He responded coldly, a singe of irritation trailing off his words as he left the room, slamming the heavy door shut. You started to sob quietly, tightly holding onto the sides of your sleeved arms.

No it wasn't, and Bertolt knew it too.

‘•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’

Your work schedule was simple: Monday to Wednesday from 9:30 am to 6 pm, you served the Warrior Unit. Every other day, you could do whatever you wanted and that was that. The pay was pretty good for a livable wage, but nothing special. No task you were given from Reiner or Zeke was too difficult either, it was usually just sending out letters to their superiors or sorting anything they wanted you to sort. To be honest, it felt like they were just tolerating you since the Marley government didn't want to deal with you anymore. It sucked but it's better than being belly-up in the ocean.

You haven't tried to make amends with Bertolt after that day because one, it was his fault so why would you apologize anyways and two, he hasn't been around that often in the office space. Reiner explained to you that there will be days, sometimes weeks or months where some or none of them will be here. Apparently when they came back with the failure to retrieve the Founding Titan, the loss of Annie and her Titan, and the inability to capture Eren's special Titan, some nations came together and declared war on Marley.

"Hopefully it won't be so often that we're going to be gone for long. Wouldn't want to have you sit at home and do nothing." Reiner teased with a slight nudge against your arm before downing his glass of liquor.

"I do nothing even when working. Maybe I'll pick up some new hobbies when you guys are gone, like knitting or cross-stitching."

Maybe you can give the creations to your neighbors since you were just doing it for fun. One of them is an expectant mother and since you had moved in, she had been nothing but kind to you. It would be nice to give something to her in return.

"Alright grandma." You elbowed his side hard, rolling your eyes. He grunted and started rubbing the affected area, grumbling under his breath about your temper.

"Where's Bertolt? Aren't you guys inseparable?" He suddenly cleared his throat, adjusting himself in his seat. Back in the training corps and the short time in the Survey Corps, you've rarely seen the two separated. Wherever Reiner went, Bertolt followed suit.

"Probably caught up in something. He'll be here soon, he never cancels without notice." He waved his hand dismissively and you thought none the wiser, tracing your finger around the rim of your glass before taking a swig.

"Already missing him?" You suddenly choked on the liquor, throat burning at the sensation. No way. No way in hell, you'd ever miss him. He could get swallowed up by another Pure Titan and you wouldn't even bat an eye. You'd laugh instead, basking in the blood that would gush out of his torn corpse.

Before you could even say anything back, a soft voice popped into the conversation. "Missing who?"

The two of you turned and there stood Marley's behemoth, still dressed to the nines in his uniform. Reiner greeted him happily, ignoring the question completely, turning towards the bartender and ordering another scotch for his friend. Bertolt settled right next to you, taking the glass in his hand and drinking up the entire thing in one go, some liquid spilling out of the corner of his lips. He quickly wiped it up with his thumb, his tongue peeking out and licking the remnants away. His cold green eyes glanced down at you suddenly, catching you staring at him.

A flush of heat went through your skin, quickly looking away to stare into your partially-full glass. The drinks kept on coming, the haze of alcohol filling everyone's systems. You were the least intoxicated, slowly taking in the new attitudes and information from your drunk companions. It wasn't much but they became more chatty, opening up about their lives before Paradis.

"I joined because of my mother." Reiner moved his glass towards the bartender, his head leaned up against his arm as he watched the brown liquid fill up his cup.

"Oh yeah?" He nodded, taking a sip from the newly refilled glass before speaking once more.

"She had high hopes that our family would've been whole again. Me, her, and my father. He's, uh—" He cleared his throat, turning his attention towards you. A faint dust of pink rested on his cheeks, a cheeky smile growing. "He's a Marley-blooded man, so y'know... I'm not really supposed to..."

"Exist." You muttered as you finished his sentence and he let out a soft laugh, nodding lightly before downing his drink again.

"Harsh, but more or less, you could say that's it. Compared to me though," The black-haired man closed his eyes, huffing softly. "Bertolt here is more tragic."

Curious but puzzled, you turned your attention towards him, his hand running through his gelled locks and he mumbled something under his breath before taking a shot. You did wonder a bit about how this man turned out to be the worst attacker on Paradis Island's humanity, it felt sickening thinking about a sweet little boy being trained into a horrid monster.

"You know I hate talking about it Reiner." The blond snorted, turning on his chair and leaning back on the bar's counter.

"C'mon. Let her in on your situation, after all—" He stood up, walking over to him and placing his hand over his shoulder, leaning in close to his ear that you almost barely caught what he said.

"You owe her that much."

Reiner made his way to the bathroom, leaving the two of you alone once more together. The thought of trying to decipher what he meant flew past your inebriated mind and so you sat in silence, instead thinking that you might as well make your way home now. It was probably already past midnight, and you were sure that you were waking up late with a massive headache. As you finalized your decision, turning in your stool and towards the door without a goodbye, the thump of glass hitting wood snapped you out of it.

"I was raised only by my dad." Bertolt started and you slowly turned back towards the counter, your full attention on him.

"Don't know what happened to my mom, he never really told me and I was never curious enough to ask. It was just the two of us for as long as I knew but even as a kid that could barely read, I knew that he wasn't... okay." His fists clenched together and you could hear the cracks of his joints from how tightly he was gripping.

"When you're born an Eldian and live in the farthest parts of the internment camps, medicine is hard to get by and treatment is even more difficult to obtain. The minute I became eligible to join, I took the opportunity." You don't know what compelled you in the moment, but you placed a hand on one of his fists. He started relaxing once he realized that you were touching him, still stiff as he reminisced further.

"Did they give him the meds?" Bertolt nodded, taking in a shallow breath.

"A few days right after I inherited the Colossal, they started giving him everything they promised and he was getting better day by day. It wasn't until I left for our mission in Paradis that his condition evolved into something worse." You swallowed nervously, slipping your fingers into his and holding his massive hand gently. His head turned towards you, his eyes soft as he looked into your gaze.

You've never seen or heard him be so vulnerable before, guilt forming in the pit of your stomach. For him, he was fighting a one-sided war against your home, all because he wanted to take care of his dad. Yet in return, he caused the displacement of so many from their families, ripping them apart with a few kicks into the walls.

"When Zeke came on Paradis and we finally met up, I asked him about my dad and he told me that despite all the medicine and treatment that he's been getting, he wasn't getting any better. I had to see him again, no matter if I had failed the original mission or not. I couldn't die on that island without being able to see him again and I just barely made it. Sometimes the way we escaped made me wonder how I even made it out of there. It was only for a few months that I got to spend with him once we came back, but he passed away in his sleep last month."

His hand tightened around yours, though not enough to break it. No wonder he started to look more disheveled and exhausted recently, his whole reason for getting where he is was now gone. You pitied him but that didn't excuse the murders of thousands he did in your homeland. At the same time, it didn't mean that you should bring that major fact up, not when he was currently grieving.

"I'm sorry Bertolt."

"It's alright, you don't have to pity me. I have more to be sorry about towards you and the others. I'll never be able to properly make it up, nothing I'll ever do will be enough to wash away the blood on my hands."

The two of you sat there in silence, a warm hand around one cold hand. You really should leave now, before Reiner comes back and you'll be stuck drinking even more than you wanted to. You attempted to finally slide off the wooden seat, but he clenched your hand gently and tugged you towards him instead. Your eyes fluttered in both confusion and tiredness as you stood in front of his sitting frame. Blinking once, his face appeared right in front of yours. His free hand slid behind and rested against the nape of your neck, feeling thin but calloused fingertips tenderly brush against the skin as he pulled you even closer.

Okay... this was getting a little too weird for your liking. Beginning to open your mouth to verbalize your annoyance and trying to move back, he then took the opportunity to press his lips against yours.

You could taste the alcohol that the three of you had been previously been consuming intertwine with the tobacco's bitterness of the cigarettes he used, a vagueness of something sweet brushing up against your tongue as he tried to coax you into returning the action. His stubble was rough against your skin the more he moved, digging deeper as he pressed further into your mouth.

You had half the mind to bite that damn muscle of his, but the warmth of both the alcohol and him was stupefying, hypnotizing. It felt like you were melting against him, a warmth pooling in your stomach and in-between your thighs. Slowly, you convinced yourself to return the kiss, gravitating into his embrace. It was stupid of you to do considering you hate the guy but hey, who doesn't do stupid shit every now and then? Fuck, you even started wrapping your arms around his neck and shoulders.

There wasn't much people in the bar anyways, either too drunk off their minds to care or simply ignoring the disgusting couple intertwining themselves in the public space. The bartender was off chatting with another patron, most likely used to the sight of a couple making their passion uncomfortably known to others. It's the Colossal Titan user, who on Marley dared tried to say something about it?

The hand that once was holding yours, grabbed at the crook of your back to draw you even more impossibly near him, then sliding down towards the curve of your ass. To your utmost surprise, he clutched and squeezed at the flesh firmly, feeling you up with this sudden confidence that you would never thought of him having before.

"Annie."

Sobriety hit you like a cold bucket of water splashing onto you once you heard her name slip through his swollen lips, taking no time to immediately shove the man right off of you. He just told you his story, that his dad had just died last month, and here he was, kissing and groping you and then suddenly calling out Annie's name. You were breathing hard, eyes wide as saucers as you stared down at him in shock.

"What the fuck? What the fuck!?"

Bertolt's hand reached out to you, as if he was trying to make you lift him back up. You've never felt so nauseated to hear those very words come out of his lips as a valid apology, like it was no big deal.

"I love you."

You ran.

You ran out of the bar, into the blackened sea of night, never once looking back. If you did, you were afraid of what you might see in his eyes or if he was chasing after you. With tears lingering in the corners of your eyes, one single thought remained.

Out of everyone in the squadron, why did it have to be him?

‘•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’

For a month and a half the day after what happened, you never saw Bertolt in the office or around the internment zone.

It was probably the first time him and Reiner were ever separated for this long, the blond telling you that it was his own decision to be sent off into the battlefield alone. You wondered if he told him what he did to you after he came back from the bathroom, or excused why he was on the floor and why you were gone. Reiner never said anything about the incident, so it soon faded in the back of your mind into obscurity.

He wasn't your first kiss anyways, some now-dead nobody trainee back in the day was, and the two of you were drunk, stupid shit happens. Part of you also somewhat knew about Bertolt's fondness for the Female Titan user, originally not knowing about how close they were previously, but damn it. For a heated moment to be ruined like that left a sour taste in your mouth, and you couldn't help but hate him even more for it.

"He's back."

"Who?" Reiner's fist came down on the top of your head playfully, catching your attention from the paperwork.

"Y'know who. Better talk to him now before he passes out from exhaustion from the looks of it. Also, because I know you miss him~" He teased and you swatted his fist off of you, watching him as he walked off towards the main room laughing, leaving you with a pit in your stomach. You really didn't want to talk to him, even if a month had passed on by, but legally, he was your superior. Professionalism before personal feelings unfortunately.

You finally got up, walking slowly to the destination before taking in a deep breath and entering the medical unit. Bertolt was near an open window, a lit cigarette lazily nestled in-between his fingers as he stared out of it. He was the only person there and you swore that every time you saw him, he started to look more unrecognizable from his previous cadet days. His hair wasn't slicked back anymore, falling at the front of his eyes; in fact, you thought it might've grown out a little more from the last time you saw him. The Titan marks were still prominent on his face, like he had just transformed not long ago.

Wiping your clammy hands on your puffy uniform, you approached him, pulling up a chair nearby the bed and sitting down stiffly.

"Welcome back sir."

His head turned towards you and you swore that you felt the room grow colder as he gazed into you through the black strands of his messy hair. Maybe you were the only one that noticed, but his eyes were dead, hollow but still held some sharpness in those pale green irises. This was no longer the Bertolt you knew, this was a numbed man that got mentally thrown and torn apart in the arms of the constant war, the constant transforming, and the constant murder of many.

"Hit me."

"E-excuse me?" He must’ve gotten faster because you didn't realize how quickly he grabbed you until he pushed the palm against his healing skin. It was burning to the touch, as if you were right next to a blazing bonfire. Instinctively, you started to try and wiggle out of his grip but he held steady.

"Hit. Me." Bertolt's grip grew stronger around your wrist, fear creeping in through every cell in your body as you watched the surrounding skin pale from how hard he was holding. "That's an order."

You swallowed but nodded quickly in agreement, just so he can let go of you before any bones shatter. He immediately released you straight away, the action as fast as he previously took ahold of you and took a hit of the nearly burnt out stick. You had to hype yourself up for it, thinking back on every rotten memory you’ve had with him, balling up your fist and striking him as hard as possible where he originally placed your hand. The force made his head swing the other way, the cigarette butt dropping on the ground as your knuckles throbbed in agony. It was like directly punching a stony wall, not like the previous time you punched him on the boat to Marley.

You let go of the breath you didn’t even know you were holding, straightening back up as you held onto your wounded hand. "And how do you feel, Bertolt?"

Bertolt’s body didn’t move, but his hand began to slowly trailing up to the injury, pressing his fingers against the forming bruise. You flinched as he pushed his hair back to where you could finally see his eyes, exhaling the smoke that he previously took in through his nostrils. He glanced over in your direction and let out a soft chuckle, although you noticed that it didn't quite reach those dull eyes of his. There was one thought that lingered in your mind as you stared back into his gaze, that he must've gone crazy fighting in the frontlines.

"Good hit, make me bleed next time." ...What? "Though, I'm surprised that you decided to visit after... what we did the last time we saw each other."

Recovering quickly from trying to process what he just said at first, you cleared your throat, crossing your arms. "The Vice Captain requested me to visit his right hand man, who am I to refuse his wishes?"

He simply hummed in response, reaching for another cigarette in his pocket and his lighter. Placing the unlit stick at the side of his mouth, his eyes caught yours once more, a slight smirk forming. "When'd you start talking like the soldiers? You forget the years we've spent together already since I've been gone, or did you finally get in trouble for treating us like equals?"

You scoffed, pulling your lips in a thin line. "You're the one that gave me an order earlier, and I've had a recent revelation that I had to start acting like a subordinate rather your friend or buddy or whatever the fuck we are, so yeah, I guess it's the latter."

"Ahh, better watch your language then or I'll have to report you for profanity against a superior." Bertolt was of course joking, the mocking tone intertwining with his words. As you felt your eyebrow twitch in annoyance, the sound of lighter clicked and ignited, your eyes watching him pull the flame near.

"Y'know..." He started as he took in a drag, leaning his head back towards the ceiling and soon exhaling the smoke out slowly. "I've been thinking about you the entire time I was gone."

A heaviness plopped itself back on your shoulders, and you wanted nothing more but to excuse yourself out of his premises. You were about to say something to leave him alone, but he kept on talking, droning on and on about how he was counting down the days when he could finally see your face again. Bertolt mentioned that you were the only reason he kept on fighting, why he kept on killing so his commanders could see that he was doing such a swell job as their loyal Titan holder and let him leave early. What a horrible ideology, most of those people could've been innocents.

"And another thing, I kept thinking back on the kiss we shared that month ago." All the color drained from your face, turning and taking a step back to try and run, but felt his hand grasp onto the fabric right against your back. His voice had the same disdainfulness as before, a demandingness that you didn't even know he had in himself to project.

"Don't leave and turn back around. That is an order."

You grit your teeth, finally turning back around once he let go of your uniform and find him standing, his tall stature hovering over you. Nervousness crawled up your spine, flinching once you felt his cold fingers reach over to caress your jaw, tilting your head up to look at him. His eyes scanned your face, inspecting your features quietly before taking another drag of his cigarette. He then neared your face and press his lips against yours.

Recoiling at the abrupt kiss, you tried to push him away but the grip on your face was painfully tight, almost akin to the hold on your wrist earlier. You could do nothing but endure this assault, a slight whimper slipping out as the soreness of your face grew.

Bertolt's tongue brushed against your lips, trying to coax you into opening them. You might as well obey, just to get this over with and the fact that you were running out of oxygen at an alarming rate. Once you did, he pushed the smoke in your mouth as he deepened the kiss, the burn in your lungs and in your throat getting worse. In a panic, you bit down as hard as possible to free yourself, the taste of iron combining with the bitter nicotine. You quickly doubled over and started coughing, watching in tears as vague smoke came out of your mouth with every heave and breath.

"Ah." You peered up at Bertolt from within your teary vision, the tips of his fingers on his lips and pressing against the wound you inflicted. It was deep from what you're able to see, but already started to heal itself. Yet, that's not what at all made you run out the room in distress, almost vomiting into the bushes once you stepped foot out of the building.

You watched in mortified horror as he smeared the crimson around his lips and chin, a seemingly euphoric and satisfied expression reflecting on those pale green eyes of his. He looked down at your frozen form, crouching down and reaching over to your face with his bloodied fingers. A small whimper slipped out as he smeared the substance on your mouth, a hungry grin forming.

"Isn't this a beautiful sight? My blood on your lips, I wonder if I can make you bleed for me soon." It felt like he wasn't supposed to say it aloud, but maybe he wanted you to hear, to have a taste of what his true self was like. That thought alone made you run out, leaving him on the ground once again.

This time, you had to make sure you'd never see the sick fuck ever again.

‘•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’

And this brings you back to the beginning, in Reiner's home completely agitated and frightened for your life.

The past few months, Bertolt resumed his normal duties along Reiner and you; although you limited your interactions with one another, you can’t help but notice that he was following you everywhere. Not just at work, but the times where you were on your breaks, going out to eat, shopping for groceries or clothes, even in your own home; you saw him. You barely caught him sometimes, he'd disappear in a blink once you tried to get in a second glance to confirm who you saw.

He lingered behind corners, staring at you with such a frightening glimmer in those dull eyes of his. He was usually expressionless as he stared into your very soul, not a single crooked smile or the usual slight upwards curve of his eyes. Nothing, absolutely nothing. And the strangest part was that he never said a word, just... stared. Sometimes he just stood there right in the public's view, crowds of people passing besides him without a single glance towards the weirdo in their way.

There was nothing you could do about it, he wasn't technically bothering anyone and due to the internment zone being rather small, they already knew that he was associated with you. How unfair it was. You wished you could live like them, ignorant and dismissive of the monster that stood right next to them.

Him being right outside of your window was your final straw, the lamplight just barely highlighting his features as he stood in your backyard. You screamed and backed up into your dining room table once you realized that he was right against your window, pressing his hand against the glass as his breath began to fog it up. His eyes were crazed, the first time you ever saw anything in them after weeks of ignoring him. You flung the drapes over the window — as if it could do anything to protect you — before running upstairs and hiding in your closet for the rest of the night.

If he was able to sneak up on you, to be that close without you noticing… what else has he done?

"He's being a fucking creep, Reiner. If it's not him trying to figure out that I'm some kind of double-crosser, it's him being some kind of perverted stalker." He snorted at your remark and you could tell that he was not entirely convinced. You took in a shaky breath, finally putting down your foot.

"Then I would like to request that I leave the Warriors unit and work somewhere else. I don't care where and if I have to move, all I want is to never see Bertolt ever again." Reiner's expression suddenly hardened and he pushed himself off the wall, leaning on the table opposite of you. You've never seen him quite as serious until now, unease filling your stomach.

"You do realize that we cannot protect you once you leave the unit, right? The only reason you're alive still is because of us, Y/N. Anywhere else in the other units, the generals and commanders will watch you like hawks for any mistake you make, minor or not. They would use any excuse to have your head." His hand rested on your shoulder and squeezed it firmly, checking his surroundings before leaning close into your ear.

"Look. I know about Bertolt's strange behavior, trust me, I've already noticed he's been off ever since he came back from that recent excursion. I don't know if I can convince him to stop doing this to you, but I mean it when I say that you're better off staying in our unit." He then leaned back and lightly smiled for more reassurance; a part of you felt that it was the scout in him that was talking and that made you feel a little better.

"We're all you got in this world and your best chance for living. C'mon, just give him one more shot." This wouldn't be happening in the first place if you left me back in Paradis, you thought bitterly but hesitantly nodded your head.

"Okay, fine. But you better get it in his head that I don’t want him stalking me anymore or I’ll report him to General Magath and leave the unit, no matter what the consequences are." You got up and headed towards the exit, turning your head to see him slowly push in your seat. He noticed that you didn't leave yet and lifted his hand up, almost waving goodbye.

"No promises," Reiner held up his pinky, slightly wiggling it. "But I'll do my best."

You scoffed, but smiled regardless.

"Then whatever happens, it'll be on you."

The next day continued on as usual, something normal for once as both Reiner and Bertolt weren't in today. You thought that they must've gotten deployed to another war since you hadn't seen any of the other Warriors either, but you continued work as usual for your shift. Even if you weren't required to, you might as well lighten the load for you the next time around.

By the time you were done with half of the stack, you finally called it quits, seeing that the sun had began to slowly set behind the towering buildings right outside of the windows. Clocking out, you slung your satchel over your shoulder and pushed past the doors, quietly walking back to your home. Now that you started to think further during your trek, it's strange that you didn't get any notification from Reiner about their sudden leave. He'd always gave you some kind of heads-up even if you didn't ask, either through a note or in person.

Was this something so serious that not even you can know about? That would make more sense, you're technically just an underling to them, you didn't need to know more confidential information from the Marleyans as a Paradisian; not like you wanted it or had any use for it anyways. The orange glow of the sun began to fade, the sky slowly turning darker by the minute as lamplights started to flicker on right on cue.

You were so close to home that you started to pick up the pace, a feeling of anticipation running through you. It's not like you felt scared, no. This was the first time in days that you finally felt like you didn't have to look over your shoulder, the first time in months where you didn't feel like you were being watched.

In a matter of minutes, you finally reached the front door of your home. You rummaged through your bag for the keys, taking your time as you pushed through the unfortunately crowded mess. There was no need to rush anymore, not until they come back, and hopefully Reiner was able to talk Bertolt out of his abhorrent, unprofessional behavior. Letting out a happy hum as you finally found what you were looking for, you pushed in the key and turned it open, only to be greeted with a gut feeling that caused goosebumps to immediately form on your skin.

Something was wrong. Despite everything being in their right and respective places, there was something... off. Standing still at the entrance way, you scanned the environment slowly, a lump forming in your throat as they darted to-and-fro nervously. The windows were locked, you knew they were, and none of the drapes seemed to be moved or altered from their original places. There was only one entrance and to get to the backyard, you would have to take the side fence door at the outside of the resident. You almost were tempted to back out of your own house, the one place where you've considered as the safest haven from the outside. This feeling, it had to just be that you were unused to being finally left alone... right?

You finally took a step inwards, the wood creaking underneath your boot. Mentally, it felt like excruciatingly long hours had just passed by for you to get another step, internally praying that your mind won't play tricks on you from the various sounds that were occurring in the considerably old home. There's nothing or no one here, you're just being a paranoid baby.

Exhaling slowly, you finally shut and locked the front door behind you. Repeating the phrase over and over gave you confidence to continue forwards, determination in your eyes. You'd be damned if Bertolt thinks he could scare you out of your own home, you'd rather go to prison than try to stay at his home for temporary shelter.

You lost your appetite to prepare a simple dinner, now knowing that you'd prefer not to try cooking something when you've just arrived in fear for your life. However, you carefully made your way towards the kitchen, grabbing a knife out of the wooden block. The sound of the metal sliding out of its sheath may have been the loudest thing you've been currently hearing. You gripped onto the handle tightly, turning towards the stairs.

You knew you weren't alone here, the house may settle now and then, but this felt different. This was different. No matter what your brain was telling you, your gut was telling you otherwise.

Crrreeeaaakkkk...

You froze, feeling suddenly out of breath as you stared at the ceiling with wide eyes. The sound came from your room, there was no doubt about it. A memory of Bertolt trying to secretly make breakfast for you flashed into view, the sounds of pans clashing below waking you up. You should've questioned how he gotten in the house in the first place during the earlier stages of this thing of his, but you were far too hungry and tired to even notice until now.

In meticulous steps, you made your way to the staircase, trying to make sure you didn't step on the wrong board and alert the intruder of your presence. Hell, he might've already known since you unlocked the door. The hallway never felt longer than it was before as you approached the room, the moonlight shining down on you and the weapon held in your dominant hand. There was more creaking the more you came towards the door, your heart pounding in your chest in the rhythm of a thousand Abnormals sprinting towards their next delectable meal.

The door was slightly ajar, alarms ringing in your head. You never have left the doors in your room open in your life, especially when sleeping and even when you left the premises. Someone is in there and you know who it is. Taking in a deep breath, you leaned in gradually towards the crack in the door, trying to control the trembling in your hands as you peeked through.

The stench of blood first hit your nose, then the sight within nearly made you scream in horror. Bertolt was in your room, sitting on the middle edge of your bed, all bloodied from head-to-toe what you were able to tell from the street's lamps dully illuminating the surrounding room. Though that was stomach-churning in itself, the action he was performing on your bed made everything even more heinously depraved.

The bastard was fucking his fist with your panties wrapped around his cock, his pelvis erratically jutting into the tight hold he put around it. His lips were slightly parted, almost barely audible groans slipping out with every stroke. Even worse, you could hear just the cusp of your name with it, your own face growing warm.

You had to report this to General Magath, now. Burn your bed and used underwear once you got the chance to second on the list. Reiner failed, maybe even never went up to him, and now you had to take the drastic way out of this. He finally took things way too far; if not your underwear, it might’ve been you.

You took a step backwards, immediately paling as the floorboard behind you squeaked loudly under the weight. The movement from within your room paused abruptly, anxiety and dread crawling up your veins with every passing moment. The sound of the bed springs being relieved of any weight on them immediately alerted you that you needed to start running or hide until he leaves. It was too late, the door opening with a grinding, crackling noise.

"Welcome home, Y/N."

Bertolt lunged at you, instincts kicking in as you swung the knife, aiming for his throat. You knew it wouldn’t kill him, you’ve seen Mikasa do it years ago and he healed without any trace of the injury left, but it would give you enough time to get to Magath’s residence. At least, that’s what you tried to do, but he moved last minute, the blade only digging into the side of his face towards his mouth.

He was stunned by it at first, a nauseating feeling permeating within your stomach as you watched the skin and muscle separate as he opened his mouth, blood streaming down his jawline in thick streams. Then he started chuckling, pressing his hand against the wound roughly and almost pulling it apart. This was no time to stay shocked however. You took this final opportunity to run, carefully trying not to cut yourself as you made your way down the stairs.

"Y/N!!!" Oh god, oh god, oh god. You reached the entrance, turning the lock and pulling it open, the cold air of the night blasting in your face. Freedom was right there in your grasp — just right there — before a thickly drenched hand from behind grabbed ahold of you from the mouth and pulled you back inside.

You couldn’t scream as his bloodied palm held firmly down onto your mouth, tears streaming down your face as he lodged himself right between your legs. He was crazed, his pupils dilated with excitement as he stared down at your quivering form. You could the hardness straining against your uniform pants, a sob stuck in your throat. The inflicted wound on his face was obviously starting to heal, steam coming off of it.

"Good try, too bad you aren’t strong enough to even try to finish the job." He took the knife out of your hold, his blood still staining the edges. Bertolt neared it towards your throat, your body fighting back as it approached closer and closer.

"Hey, you’re gonna hurt yourself if you keep moving like that." He scolded, as if he wasn’t the one with the weapon, the cold blade right against your jugular. You froze on cue, taking in sharp breaths with your nose to try and not to panic even more.

"You weren’t meant to see me uh—" His face flushed pink, scratching his uninjured cheek with his pointer bashfully. This bitch was acting like he didn’t just break in your home, committed a perverse act on your bed, and about cut your throat open. Bertolt slightly adjusted himself, rubbing his still-hard cock against you. "But it was pretty exciting, how long were you watching? Did you get excited?"

You wanted to shake your head, only flinching as you felt him unbuckle the belt, nimble fingers unbuttoning and zipping down your pants. You had no choice but to feel him slip his dirtied hand into your underwear, his fingertips pressing against your hole. A proud smile grew on his face, a vast contrast to your horrified expression as the two of you made the same realization. You’re wet.

Bertolt pulled the knife away from your neck, short relief coming out of you in waves, but he didn’t drop it or throw it aside. No. He used it to tear your uniform shirt open, a muffled yelp escaping you as the cool air made contact with your bare skin.

"We’re going to have some fun together, okay?" You felt like throwing up in his hand, hoping that you’d asphyxiate from it. Your heart stopped as you realized that he was nearing the tip of the blade on your lower stomach, right below your belly button.

"Right after I carve my name into you."

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twst-drabbles · 1 month ago

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Azul 27

Summary: Azul finally decided to let you see his sea form. You've been wanting to touch him in this form like this for a while.

(This turned out longer than I thought. Was going to keep this short but oh well, I like spoiling him occasionally.)

"What if, one day in the very very far off future, I decided to show you my other form? Of course, it's not as if I'm ever going to show you… but, if I do, what will you do?"

Usually questions like that are accompanied by that usual, irritating smug look on Azul's face, like he had the clairvoyance needed to see all the little things that go on in your head, but it wasn't there that day. Well, it was there, it was just a different variety of smug. A fake smug. Like his attempt to toy with you ended up exposing a part of himself, to himself, that even he wasn't aware of.

Azul is horribly easy to read once one gets to truly know him.

So, on that day, you responded with, "Hmm, probably cherish every part of you."

He choked and you laughed as you set his hat straight, and then Azul never brought up that question, or that day up again.

Until now, that is.

You have seen Azul in his sea form, but it was under circumstances too dangerous for you get a good look at. Or properly enjoy. That and when someone is under overblot, all their colors just get more ashy, like they were dunked in a pool of ink and not properly washed out.

Azul is still gray, but there's this purple, almost indigo undertone to it that gives him more life compared to back then. His tentacles writhed uncomfortably on the floor, and Azul looked ready to curl up somewhere and hide from the world.

"Well?" Azul pouted, "Are you going to just stand there with the door wide open?"

It's weird to think that all people under the sea are usually naked, and that they're comfortable with it. You can't help but wonder how long it took to adjust to full clothing. It couldn't have been a comfortable adjustment. And yet here Azul is, trying to cover himself like a human would, in a form that works best naked.

You closed the door and brushed your fingers against the tentacle that was ready to lock the room for you.

"Wait--" Azul shivered, hand slapping over his face to hide the blood rushing to his cheeks. "Don't just touch me out of nowhere!"

You put your hands up, smiling. "Sorry, sorry."

It felt… just about what you expected to be honest. Fleshy, but there's a firmness to it that felt nice.

Azul retreated his tentacles back to himself, but he didn't turn away from you. His arms were stiff at his sides as his eyes look at anywhere but you.

So, as per usual, you took the first step. "Mind if I touch your face?"

Best to start off with something easy, something familiar.

"…You… you may."

Besides, you can never waste an opportunity to make his face go soft like this.

Azul's head practically brushed against the ceiling. He had to both sit and bend down just to have your hands reach his face.

"It really is weird how magic can hide so much of your mass," you said after a quick peck on his lips.

Azul didn't give a verbal reply. He just made a noise under his throat.

You gave another kiss, on his left cheek. "Mind if I can feel your extra limbs?"

Azul made the same noise, louder, behind a clenched jaw.

"Is that a no?" You soothed a palm over the back of his neck, playing with the little hairs on them. You're fine with just seeing. At least now you know how his colors actually looked.

"You… may." He sighed into your neck, clutching at your shirt. His tentacles rose from the ground and lazily brushed against your legs.

You caressed a thumb over the glittery freckles of his hips. "You can stop me at any time, alright?"

Azul hummed.

You tapped against one of his lilac suction cups, liking their almost swollen appearance. Almost reminded you of bubbles. Your every touch made Azul twitch, but he didn't say or do anything about it as you continued to touch.

Azul's breath transformed into a shivering sigh when you trailed from the thin end of his tentacle, to the plump base, and to the gills flaring below his torso.

"Was that too much?" You asked, amused as you continued to touch his waist.

Azul slid his palms over your waist, turned his head, and kissed your neck.

"No," you lightly chuckled, carding through Azul's hair, "I guess not."

You guided his head and laid your lips on his.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst-drabbles #ask #drabble #octavinelle #azul #azul ashengrotto #reader insert

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l0v3tast3 · 2 years ago

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AHH Hello!!! I absolutely love your writing, it’s so good!!!!

I was wondering…

Y/n always wear a mask to conceal her identity, in hopes the 141 doesn’t find out that Makarov is her father!!

141 had captured Makarov for interrogation, and y/n is there. As the interrogation continues, they start to notice that y/n and Makarov know each other, by the subtle little informality they spoke to one another. And the truth starts to come out, little by little!!!!

✎ tysm i love you :(( i absolutely love this idea the angst potential is just *chef's kiss* i'm sorry this one took like over a month to make oops, also i tried to keep personal details abt the reader as vague as possible, pls let me know if there's something i can fix!!

✎ tags: female reader, military reader, major daddy issues, violence, mentions of blood, hurt/barely any comfort if at all, not proofread im too cool for that,

✎ word count: 2,704

the silence in the cold, gray interrogation room was so thick that you were choking on it. you knew you had just fucked up, badly.

you had done so well so far, too. you're fabricated identity had fooled everyone. the name you had chosen stuck, and no one ever noticed your old one threatening to jump from your mouth when you introduced yourself. you always kept the childhood memories and little anecdotes vague. you stuck to your rehearsed lines better than a world-famous actor. you did every single thing right.

and now, here he was, your own blood, fucking it all up for you, again.

technically, he had made you fuck it up for yourself. it was just how makarov worked; he was a spider weaving a web in the corner, watching, waiting. this man, your supposed father, didn't know anything real about you. he didn't know you as a father should know his daughter. but he knew which buttons to press.

he only knew what to say to you when it would allow him the opportunity of watching you fall a little deeper towards rock bottom.

you knew that the room had cameras covering every square inch, and the microphones ensured that you're accidental admission to your heritage was heard by your entire task force.

there was a red hot pit opening inside of you, caving your insides in like a black hole and threatening to consume your entire being. it was rage, you realized. something you only ever seemed to feel in the presence of one person.

you briefly considered killing him, right there and then. was this really the straw that broke your back? it truly was just another thing to add to the list. you had known he would do this.

no, you were angry at yourself.

on the other side of the door, the four men of the 141 task force were all stood still in shock. what the hell did you just say?

none of them wanted to believe it. they especially didn't want to admit that it made sense. you had done a fucking fantastic job of hiding it, they'll admit that, but even you couldn't hide everything.

price saw the way you tensed when you were passed laswell's photo of makarov in the bar, after you had all put an end to hassan's plan. he saw the way you dropped it and slid it to the next person quickly, as if touching the picture had burned your fingertips.

soap had asked you if you were okay more than once during the plane ride to russia. you were so restless, so different from your usual grounded self. you just said you were having some flying anxiety. he felt stupid now for writing it off so easily.

and kyle, the first one to trust you (and to even really talk to you), he had seen the anger sparking off of you while you shot your way through the tower to get to makarov. floor after floor, bullet after bullet, you had paved a path of blood through the mercenaries. he wondered if someone else had taken your mask and gear and was pretending to be you.

simon saw the fear in you when you all got to the last door. you had been so quick in your endeavor to get here, but he saw you hesitate to follow them in. he saw how you never took your wide eyes off of him, and how you stayed a few steps back, moving far out of the way when price began to escort him out in handcuffs.

and when they had asked you to go into the interrogation room, they all saw how you stopped breathing, and the sweat collecting on what little skin they could see above your mask. you had stuttered when you quietly agreed.

when you stepped into the room, makarov took one look at your eyes, and you knew he recognized you. no, he recognized the hatred. and it made him smile.

now, sitting in the cold metal chair, you realized that it wasn't just one mistake, but a series of them; you had let him unravel you, again. you understood, finally, that he saw you as he did everyone else. he saw you as someone that held him back.

part of you had always known, ever since you were young, still single-digits, and he would only visit you once every few months, if that. you had elected to ignore it. now you couldn't.

you couldn't move. behind you was the door that would lead you to the consequences of your actions. in front of you was the reason for those actions.

this is what you had wanted, wasn't it? it was like something snapped back into place, and you suddenly remembered that everything you had done up until now, every time you put the mask on before leaving your room, every lie you had told and every person you had killed had been to get you here. in front of your father. you remembered that the image of him with a bullet between his eyes was what kept you going.

if you killed him, would it finally absolve you? the gun on your hip felt twenty pounds heavier now. your fingers, folded together in your lap with a white-knuckle grip, felt like lead. would this sin make all the other wrongs right?

a tiny voice was telling you to just walk away, let the team's wrath come down on you and let them deal with makarov, but you had already thrown the table between you towards the wall, he was already on the ground with your hands wrapped around his throat.

you were yelling, no, screaming at him. all the compacted feelings from years and years of being as quiet as possible came up like vomit, spewing out in a mess that could never be cleaned up.

there were more than just makarov's hands on you, pushing and pulling you away from him and dragging you out of the room, kicking and screeching to let you just finally kill him, while two other blurry shapes hauled him back into his own chair.

the heavy metal door shut behind the two people practically carrying you, and they finally let you go. you stumbled a few steps away, whirling around for the next target of your fury.

your captain and lieutenant were standing in front of you, both tensed, waiting for you to do something. you couldn't exactly make out their faces- were you crying?

"what in the bloody hell just happened in there?" price snarled. it was the voice he used when he was face to face with his enemy.

"let me back in there." it was a demand. you needed to kill him.

"that's not gonna happen," simon barked. john and kyle had come out from the interrogation room to stand behind the other two men. "you need to explain, now."

they all stared at you with varying looks of anger and hurt. it wasn't the first time you'd ever had it directed at you, but this was somehow worse than all the others.

every cell in your body was shrieking at you to just run for the door, to somehow get through all four of these men, your teammates, your friends, and kill makarov. but their glares glued you to your spot.

"please-" your voice was trembling, years of grief and agony dripping from every word, "please, just let me kill him. you have to let me kill him." you spoke slowly and quietly, focusing on just trying to get the words out. you took a shaky breath and focused your eyes on a muddy bootprint on the floor. you didn't want to see the looks on their faces.

"you don't understand, you just- just let me back in there, please, i'll get whatever you need out of him, but he needs to die!" your voice was getting louder, and you briefly wondered if your father could hear you. "his men are probably already on their way here. don't you get it? if i don't kill him now, he will get out."

the men in front of you were more shocked now than anything at the change in your demeanor. you had been coined the "second ghost" throughout the units, partly for the mask, but also because of your detachment. you were kind, but you always held logic above emotion.

in front of them now was nothing short of a nervous wreck.

despite not moving, you were frantic. you were wringing your hands together, pressed tight against your stomach. your eyes darted from side to side, person to person, between them and the door to makarov.

price took a step forward and you took a step back. he was slow, bringing his hand up as if he were approaching a wild animal. if he was still angry, he was hiding it now.

"come on, kid, let's just get out of 'ere, eh? go somewhere away from him," he said lowly. the other three men watched tensely, not moving, but their hands still close to their guns. just in case.

"no, no- just let me- price, you need to let me back in there!" you were a broken record, you knew it, but there was nothing else to say, nothing else you could think about. this was what you had been waiting for, you were right where you had wanted to be for the past- how many years now? how long has he tormented you for now?

you could feel your father's presence in the next room like bugs crawling across your body. it made your head feel fuzzy and your hands shake. was it from rage or fear? you couldn't tell, so you chose the rage.

it was like bile stuck in your throat, all the pain makarov had caused you finally being unearthed. you wanted to throw it all up and spit it out onto him, lay your organs and hatred alike out on the table in front of him so he could see the decay. you wanted him to rot from the inside out like you had.

your eyes glanced at the door one last time before focusing on price. he was watching you, just a couple of steps in front of you now.

"let me back in there, john." it was a whisper, but still the steadiest thing you had spoken since they had dragged you out.

"no." he said your name quietly, and you heard it as the plea it was, but you're head decided it was done listening.

your body threw itself at him, swinging underneath his arms and onto his back to try and get him on the ground. the room exploded into yelling, and multiple pairs of hands were on you in an instant, hauling you off of price and forcing you face-down onto the ground with your hands behind your back.

cold metal latching around your wrists didn't stop your screaming and kicking, lashing out at the air around you. it didn't work well, because you were being hauled back to your feet and pushed into a separate interrogation room.

whoever was carrying you didn't bother with trying to attach your handcuffs to the table, basically throwing you in and slamming the door shut before you could get back on your feet.

outside the cell, the four men stood in silent shock. what was there to say, where would they even start? would they really be able to hear each other over your muffled screams to let you out?

you didn't know how long you had been in there once the door finally opens again, but you had stopped screaming and struggling to get out of the room. you had sat down at the table, your hands folded in front of you on the cold surface. you stared down at the blood beading and smearing around the handcuffs.

kyle squeezed in through the tiny amount he'd let the door open before he shut it quickly, keeping his eyes on you. you didn't look up, your red eyes staying fixed on one point even as he slowly moved closer. he followed them to see the red rings underneath the steel, and a pang of guilt squeezed his heart tight.

he sat down across from you, folding his hands in front of him on the table, mirroring you. you still hadn't looked up at him, or done anything to acknowledge his presence; you hadn't even moved.

"are you alright?" kyle implored. he kept his voice soft, bending over a little to try to look you in the eye.

it took you a few moments to respond; he almost started to think you didn't hear him before you opened your mouth slowly.

"is he dead?" you croaked.

kyle let out an audible sigh while he leaned back in his seat, bringing his hands up to drag them down his face.

"no, we still need him. you know that."

you didn't say anything after that.

after sitting in silence for two full minutes, he spoke up. "you realize not telling us about this makes you look really bad, yeah?"

"you don't trust me anymore?" you whispered it, like you didn't want him to hear and answer. you knew what he would say.

"you aren't making it very easy."

kyle wanted to trust you still. part of him was angry and confused as to why you had kept something like this from them. the other part, the bigger part of him, knew that you were on still on the same side of it all. and he knew the other three men felt the same, but they couldn't just dismiss this.

"we can work this out, ya' know. you just have to be honest with us," he added after you once again stayed silent.

"be honest?" you echoed. you finally looked up at him. "about what? you heard me. makarov is my father. i want him dead. that's all there is to say."

kyle took his turn to not speak, weighing your words, figuring out where to go from there.

"why didn't you tell us?" he finally asked.

you looked back down at your wrists. "if i had told you i was makarov's daughter before i joined the team, then all i would have ever been is makarov's daughter." you paused to take a deep, shaky breath. it was uncomfortable with your mask still on, wet with tears, but you refused to take it off, to give away the last piece of your identity that was still yours at the moment.

"it's something we should have known," he contended quickly. "we could have used the information you have-"

you cut him off, your eyes snapping back up to glare daggers at him. "you think i know anything more than you?" you barked. something between a laugh and a sob escaped your throat before you could continue. "i was eight years old the last time i saw him in person. i was raised by live-in nannies. he only visited, what, maybe twice a year? and i don't know why he even bothered, either."

your hands were clenched into tight fists, and the same sting that circled your wrists was appearing in your palms. you kept going though; you didn't know if you could stop now.

"every time i get somewhere, every time i start making a life for myself again, he fucks it all up. never showed his damn face, but it was him, it was always-" you finally cut yourself off, not wanting to drag more memories out from the dark.

"makarov may be my father, but i am not his daughter. i swear, kyle, i fucking swear it." you were pleading with him to believe you now. you needed them to understand.

you could see it in the way his eyebrows creased that he wanted to take your words as the truth. but he didn't say anything (what could he have said?).

the door opened once again, and price half-entered the room to wave kyle back out. he avoided your gaze, something he'd never done before. then you were alone again.

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halsteadlover · 1 year ago

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Under Fire

*Gif not mine credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Jay Halstead x Paramedic!Reader.

• Requested by anon: Hey! Could you write an imagine where the reader is a paramedic and one day a person starts shooting at the ambo and Jay is called? Then he would be worried when he sees the reader there.

• Warnings: mention of sex, blood, gunshot, bad writing (yes it’s gonna be a warning from now on).

• Word count: 4289.

• A/N: this is by far one of the ugliest fics ever and honestly I’m even ashamed I posted it. It didn’t turn the way I wanted but I was too lazy and had no time to write it all again so here it is 💀 Sorry for the ppl who expected a good worried!Jay fic 😭 I’m sorry for any mistake too and of course I know all the ‘medical’ staff was probably inaccurate so pls bear with me lol

“Baby, breakfast is ready!”.

Jay's voice muffled to your ears from the kitchen as you hurriedly got ready for work, super late. You tied your hair into a ponytail, not wanting to waste any more time trying to fix it before running to the kitchen where Jay had just set breakfast on the table.

“I'm late honey I can't eat,” you said frantically, leaning closer to him and kissing him on the lips before stealing a waffle which you popped into your mouth and began to eat as you looked for your car keys.

“Babe you can't go to work without having breakfast,” Jay retorted as he drank his cup of coffee and watched you amused.

“Yeah? And whose fault is it that I’m late?” you asked ironically “Have you seen my keys baby? Damn it… I can't find them anywhere.”

Jay chuckled and there was no need to say he found them as soon as he started to search for them. He was about to hand them to you but suddenly put his hands behind his back. “I want a kiss first.”

You giggled like a little girl and placed your free hand on his face, kissing him passionately, as if it was the first time you'd seen him in ages. No matter how much time passed, Jay managed to have on you the same effect as the first day, and for a moment, lost in your senses, you almost forgot you had to run away to work.

“Mmmh,” he murmured into the kiss, intensifying it as his arm went around your waist, pressing your body further against his.

“Stop…” you muttered between kisses as you giggled “No,” one kiss “That’s not…” another kiss “Fair…” and yet another one. “You’ve already made me late this morning.”

“Baby it's not my fault you're so stunning. You know I can't keep my hands to myself,” he kept kissing you, taking the opportunity to shamelessly squeeze your ass. “You were naked in our bed, you really expected me not to fuck the shit out of you?”.

“Stop, you're making me hot again,” you placed your hands on his chest to push him away, receiving a frown from him. In a moment of distraction you grabbed the keys from his hand and took your bag, before giving him one last sweet kiss and go to the door “See you tonight baby, I love you. Be careful okay?”.

“I love you too princess, text me when you can and be careful too. Don't you even dare come back with even a scratch!”.

But unfortunately, things don’t always go the way we want them to.

Your morning was going well, you were on shift with Sylvie who wasted no time teasing you, between calls, about being late that morning.

“If you're jealous because I'm having hot sex and you're not, just say it blondie,” you retorted laughing, getting from your co-worker a little slap on the back of your head as she kept her eyes on the road while driving the ambo.

“You’re really a bitch you know that? Of course I'm jealous! Do you know how long it's been since I've been with someone? I don't even know what a penis looks like anymore.”

You giggled. “If after every shift you literally fly home to go to sleep, don't complain if you can't find anyone. You need to go out Sylvie, Molly's is always crowded, you'll find someone who can't wait to rail you.”

She burst out laughing. “Rail me? Where did this come from?”.

“I mean… You know… I didn't know the meaning of these words before I met my boyfriend…” you answered and Sylvie let out a fake gag while you dreamily recalled your intense sexual life with Jay.

“You are disgusting,” the blonde replied even though she laughed. Before she could add anything though, there was a call of a shooting with victim and the joyful and playful air disappeared almost instantly.

You were about to text Jay, updating him on the progress of your shift but you mentally cursed as you noticed your cell phone was dead and that’s when you remembered you didn't charge it last night.

You put it back in your pocket, mental noting you’d charge it as soon as you got back to the station.

When you and Sylvie arrived with sirens blaring at the scene where the shooting had taken place, you couldn't help but notice the amount of people there looking on curiously and trying to figure out what was going on. That neighborhood was not the most idyllic and safe, given the unfortunate presence of criminals and drug addicts, and you mentally prayed you could finish as soon as possible since you didn't feel at all calm in that place.

A man in his fifties came running towards you, cell phone in hand and a terrified expression on his face.

“What happened sir? Where’s the victim?” Sylvie asked as you fetched the first aid kit bags.

“This way. There's been a shooting… There's a young man… I don't know if he's still alive.”

The man pointed to a person lying on the ground, immersed in his own blood and at a rough guess he didn't seem to be more than 16 years old. He was just a little boy.

“We'll take care of it from now sir. Thank you for calling us. Now go back in your house and stay safe,” you said and he nodded before storming off and locking himself inside his house along with his family.

You put on your gloves and leaned over the victim. You checked his carotid pulse and breathing. “He’s breathing and there is still a pulse. But it's too weak.”

Sylvie lifted the victim's shirt, revealing the shotgun at stomach level, and spun him on his side for a moment. “There is an exit wound.”

“I'm putting an IV,” you stated before taking the necessary kit while Sylvie controlled the bleeding by dabbing the wound with clean gauze which was soaked in blood in no time. After placing the tourniquet, it was difficult to find an accessible vein due to the copious blood loss but eventually you succeeded.

As you continued to do everything in your power to keep the still unconscious patient alive, you didn't realize all passers-by had left and that a suspicious car was approaching until the sound of a shot broke the silence.

Your heart stopped for an instant.

It all happened so fast and in just few seconds that you didn't even realize what was happening.

It was all so fast but so slow at the same time.

Everything seemed to stop around you, the world started spinning fast and slow at the same time which you didn't even believe was possible. The seconds seemed to have turned into minutes, hours, and in you kept wondering when it would end.

You and Sylvie threw yourselves to cover the victim, but not before a bullet went through your arm causing you to scream in pain. “Fuck!” you exclaimed as an excruciating pain made you bend to the ground for an instant.

“Y/N! Oh my god!” exclaimed Sylvie, rushing towards you regardless of the danger. Your hand covered your wound from where blood gushed and you tried to take a few breaths to try to regain control of yourself. You hadn't been shot at before by now, but damn it hurt like hell.

“I'm fine,” you murmured and when you opened your eyes you saw a woman lying on the ground not far from you. “Shit… Sylvie, go to that woman…”

Sylvie glanced between you and the poor woman lying on the asphalt, not sure what to do. “I am fine. Go! I'll take care of it here!”.

She nodded and grabbed a first aid bag before running to the woman, leaving you with the still unconscious victim. You checked him to make sure he wasn't hit and breathed a sigh of relief when you saw he wasn't.

You called for help on your radio before getting up with no small effort, dragging the victim behind a car, thus keeping you sheltered.

Your heart was pounding and you didn't know what to do, the fear they'd come back to kill you paralyzed you. You leaned against the car, bringing your eyes to the wound on your arm and noticing you were losing more blood than you would’ve expected.

“Shit,” you winched in pain even if the adrenaline rushed through your veins. You decided not to think about it and just treat the patient until help arrived, after all you weren't going to die from a shot in an arm.

You got up from the car and approached the patient, noticing the movement of his chest was no longer regular and that he was struggling to breathe. You took your stethoscope and listened to his chest, hearing crackles and a muffled sound in the right lung.

“Damn it,” you whispered to yourself, taking deep breaths as the pain became more intense and trying to focus solely on the victim and not on the excruciating pain you were feeling. The victim had a pneumothorax and you knew if you didn't treat it right away, you ran the risk of losing him before help even arrived.

You took all the kit needed to aspirate the air from his lung but your hand was shaking too much to be able to proceed. “Come on. You can do it,” you kept telling yourself and breathing deeply. With no little effort you managed to make a small incision and insert the small catheter to allow the air to escape. You listened to his lungs again after a bit with the stethoscope and breathed a sigh of relief when you realized the pulmonary sound was good and he was breathing properly. You fixed the catheter to his chest with a plaster and continued to treat the wound on the abdomen.

He was losing too much blood and if he hadn't gone to the hospital immediately he would’ve died there in front of you.

Your forehead was drenched in sweat, your arms and body were giving up as you noticed in the distance Sylvie giving a CPR to the woman who had presumably also been shot.

You heard the sound of sirens of the police and of another ambulance in the distance and for the first time in the last half hour your heart started properly beating again.

Jay, meanwhile, didn't have a clue what was going on, that you'd been shot, rushed to the hospital, or he’d completely lose his mind.

His day, unlike yours, was going on normally and no new cases had turned up so he spent the morning sorting through paperwork and old reports that were still incomplete.

He checked his cell phone to see if you'd answered him but still nothing. The last time he knew about you was when he saw you walk out the door of the apartment you shared and he couldn't stop the veil of anxiety that had passed through him. He knew he was exaggerating, as you were most likely having a busy morning and for this reason you hadn’t reached out to him.

He tried to keep his mind at bay, to stay calm and tell himself everything would be fine, that you were okay and he’d hear from you soon.

But when he saw Sylvie's name on the screen as his cell phone rang, he knew immediately that something wasn’t right and the slight feeling of anxiety was replaced by a real vice in his stomach.

“Sylvie? What happened? Is my girlfriend okay?” he asked as soon as he answered the call, without even giving her time to say anything. He knew something was up and didn’t want to waist time.

“Jay…” she breathed out, her voice clearly shaking but Jay couldn't care less.

“Sylvie tell me immediately what the hell happened. Where’s Y/N? Is she okay?” he ordered in a harsh and hostile tone, more than he ever wanted to.

“We are at Med's and…”

That was all it took for him to go crazy and not understand anything anymore.

Before she could finish her sentence he had already hung up the phone and, without even notifying his boss, he exited the unit at lightning speed, under the gaze of his worried and astonished teammates.

His mind kept repeating the last words spoken by Sylvie and never as in that moment did he feel like the world completely collapsed on him. He hadn't even asked what happened, whether you were okay or not, and as he drove like a madman through the streets of Chicago, he kept praying, praying and praying.

“God please let her be okay,” he kept muttering to himself, his heart pounding so hard in his chest he felt like it was going to stop at any moment. He tried to call you several times but each time it directed him to your voicemail. “Fuck!” he had exclaimed hitting the steering wheel in frustration and after throwing the cell phone on the passenger seat, without caring whether it broke or not.

You had to be okay, it couldn't have been otherwise. You had to be okay because you had to spend the rest of your life with him, he had to marry you, start a family with you, raise your children, maybe have pets, and to do that you had to feel good.

Jay knew that your job, as well as his, could be dangerous, but that didn't make the anxiety any less oppressive, the fear of losing you any less crippling.

It might seem like an exaggeration but he couldn't live without you, he couldn't imagine a life in which you weren't there, he couldn't imagine coming home and not finding you there preparing dinner with so much care and love, he couldn't imagine coming home and not finding you walking barefoot, the music blasting while you danced and sang as you cleaned the house, he couldn't imagine waking up in the morning and not feeling your body against his, the scent of your hair entering his nostrils, your arms holding him preventing him from getting up to go to work when you weren't on shift.

“No, no, no, no, no,” he babbled not wanting to even think about this possibility as he darted through the streets without even bothering to stop at red lights and risking causing accidents at least a couple of times.

When he got to the hospital he immediately ran towards the nurses' station, failing even to realize that Maggie was already talking to a patient.

“Maggie where is Y/N? Is she fine?” he asked frantically getting a glare from the gentleman who was previously talking to Maggie. She shot an apologetic look at the man and nodded to the room you were in before giving her attention back to the patient.

Jay ran towards the room and without even thinking twice pulled the curtain away, an expression of pure fear and concern on his face. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw you were lying on the crib, alive.

“Jay!” you exclaimed, not expecting to find your boyfriend in front of you in the hospital, lifting yourself up as if to reach him.

“Y/N stay still,” Connor admonished you, who was tending your wound.

“Oh thank God,” Jay finally managed to calm down and finally breathe again. He walked over to you and gently grabbed your face with his still trembling hands, leaving a kiss on your forehead. It lasted longer than it should’ve but Jay didn't care, he just wanted to savor the moment, smell the scent of your hair, your skin, and realize you were really there in front of him, that you hadn't left him.

“Halstead, you shouldn't be here,” Connor commented without looking up from the bullet hole in your arm.

“Shut up Rhodes, just focus about treating her,” Jay retorted and the serious tone in which he said it caused both you and Connor to chuckle but as soon as you looked at him you stopped immediately, noticing the expression of pain and concern with which he was looking at you.

“What happened baby? My God…” he stroked your face, your hair, “Why didn't you call me? What did they do to you?”. His eyes moved from your features to your arm and he immediately knew it was a bullet hole. He had assumed that you’d been pushed, maybe fallen somewhere, but he hadn't thought it was a shot at all.

Anxiety and worry were quickly replaced by anger and rage and in that precise moment he promised himself he’d make the bastard who had done this to you, who had dared to hurt you, pay.

“I told Sylvie not to call you…” you started talking, not answering Jay's questions but he cut you off, “Y/N please… I'm mad enough you didn't call me and I had to hear from your colleague you ended up in the hospital, don’t even think about making jokes right now.”

“Sorry Jay, it's just… You were at work and I didn't want to worry you. I'm fine as you can see and Connor will fix me.”

“You're not fine,” Connor intervened, glancing at you before continuing to treat the wound “If you hadn't continued to treat the victim your arm wouldn't be in so bad shape, the bullet had gone too deep. But luckily I'm very good at my job.”

If looks could kill, you should’ve been petrified after Jay's glare.

“Connor, you really don't know when to shut your mouth, do you?”.

“Y/N,” Jay spoke up “I'm not playing and I'm about to lose my mind. Tell me what the hell happened.”

You sighed, looking down at your belly as you recalled those moments of terror that seemed to have happened not long ago but at the same time, so long ago.

Jay noticed the way your free hand was shaking slightly and he felt guilty for raising his voice after the traumatic event you had suffered earlier that morning. “Sorry baby,” he said, caressing your cheeks and then giving you another soft kiss on your forehead. He held you as best he could, your head level with his stomach as he continued to stroke your hair, your cheeks, trying to calm you down. It was his way of saying he was there, that you were safe and never like then did you mentally thank Sylvie for calling him.

“It’s okay, I’m here now. Everything will be okay baby.”

God only knew how terrified you were, how afraid you were of dying, never seeing the love of your life again, never hugging him again and feeling him holding you, cradling and caressing you… Shit, this was one of the best feelings you ever had the pleasure of trying in your life.

You kept thinking over and over of those scary moments, the sound of those gunshots you knew would echo in your mind for far too long. No manual, no course would’ve ever prepared you for all this, you knew that being a paramedic would’ve taken you to places where danger was around the corner, but the adrenaline, the fear, that terror… No one would’ve ever been able to preparing for this.

You didn't even realize Connor had finished bandaging your wound until you saw with the corner of your eye he was getting up and collecting all the dirty gauze and other tools he had used. “I can't stress enough about the fact you don't have to exert yourself. You have to rest for at least a week, after that you can do some office work, but no work on the field until you’ll be able to move your arm.”

“Trust me she won’t. Thanks Rhodes,” Jay replied and Connor gave him a smile, then patted him on the shoulder with an ungloved hand.

“I'll leave you two alone.”

You tried to move you arm a bit but it was still numb from the local anesthetic. Jay sat on the edge of the bed, taking your free hand and intertwining his fingers with yours as his thumb stroked your back.

“You made me worry to death you know? I think I've died and risen a thousand times in the last hour.” He was the one who spoke first, but his tone was soft and reassuring. His free hand stroked your face, tucking a strand of hair that had escaped your ponytail, behind your ear.

“I'm so sorry Jay,” you mumbled back, feeling awfully guilty to see him like this, features contracted up with concern, eyes shining.

“You don't have to apologize, I'm just so happy you're okay,” he hugged you and you returned that hug, with your free arm. “God Y/N, I wouldn't have known what to do without you. I've never been so scared as today...” he kept talking “Don't ever do this to me again.”

“I was so scared Jay… I…” you stammered, trying to swallow the lump in your throat “I thought I'd never see you again…”

“Shh, it's okay. I'm here now and you're safe, I won't let anyone hurt you anymore,” he tried to calm you down even if he was feeling a storm inside. He was angry, furious, because he wasn't there to protect you, because if he had the person responsible in his hands he would’ve killed them with his bare hands, because he hated seeing you like that, scared, trembling in his arms. And he wanted to cry, cry so hard, because the fear he'd had of losing you was paralyzing.

Jay had never been in a situation where he’d even think you weren't next to him. To him it was like you were a superhero, immortal, that one way or another you'd always come back to him and he had taking all of this for granted. Reality had hit him full blown and left him breathless, making him lose the ground under his feet, the world collapsing around him and made him understand it wasn't like this, that fate was sometimes a bastard and that only event made him realize how important you were to him. Maybe even more than he could have ever imagined.

How much he loved you, for goodness sake, it was overwhelming. You were his whole world, and however absurd, ridiculous, cheesy, or over the top that might seem, Jay really couldn't live without you. It was a phrase he had told you so many times but in that particular absurd event it took on an even deeper and more real meaning and he really, really couldn't exist in a world where you weren't by his side.

And he didn't care how cheesy any of that sounded, it was the plain, simple, unequivocal truth.

“Baby you're choking me,” you muttered as he began to hold you so tight it literally blocked your breath. Your voice brought him back to reality, “Shit. Sorry, baby I didn't realize it,” he said giving you a kiss on the lips and you smiled at him, “It's okay.”

“Are you okay? Do you need something?”.

You shook your head, your lids suddenly feeling heavy. “No, just some rest.”

Jay smiled sweetly, looking at you with so much love and affection. “I know baby, I know. As soon as they prepare the discharge documents, I'll take you home and you can rest as long as you want.”

You nodded and the tender expression on your face made his heart explode. Had he already said how much he fucking loved you? “You'll stay with me right? I need you.”

“Do you really think I would’ve left you alone knowing what you've been through? I'll take the rest of the day off and, since I have a lot of accumulated vacation days, I’ll take the next few weeks as well.”

You smiled faintly. You didn’t want him to not go to work and felt selfish but God, you needed him so badly so you didn’t even complain. “Thank you love.”

“Do you feel like telling me what happened?” Jay asked, now impatient. You told him everything from how you were treating the victim, to the shooting and until help arrived. It goes without saying how furious Jay was when you finished speaking and how he looked ready to smash something against the walls.

“It's over baby, I'm really fine now, luckily they hit me on the arm and not elsewhere where it could’ve been so much worse. I'll get better soon, you know how these things go,” you tried to reassure him, placing your hand on his face and stroking his skin, a gesture that made him relax a little. “Please don’t be mad.”

“I’m not mad Y/N, I’m furious. You are the most precious thing in my life and I’d kill anyone for even touch a strand of your hair in the wrong way. Knowing you were there alone, that you couldn't defend yourself, someone dared to hurt you… I can’t even explain the rage I’m feeling right now,” he replied, the tone of low voice as your words kept echoing in his mind. “I'm so sorry my baby,” he caressed your face “My precious princess. I’m so sorry for not being there and failing to protect you. It shouldn't have happened, especially not to you. If something…”

“No love no,” you interrupted him, not letting him finish that sentence “Let's not think about that. I'm here now, you're here with me and that's all that matters, okay?”.

“I know, I know,” he replied. But they’ll still have to pay for what they did to you.

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