#i had to take a day (ignoring the fact it is so late today skull emoji) to prepare

[artiificiial]

Hi Arti✨

I saw your comment and..ah it made me blush haha /in a good way//👉👈

I wanted to say that you're amazing artist, Im so happy that i saw your blog

I really love your render and lineart/sketch (?) anyway it looks so cool and so..sooo gorgeous. So yeah

You should know that im in love with your artstyle

🤲💕💕💕

///your last art with Zag and Mel is awesome, i forgot how to breathe..all those lines , they are so free 🫠

---

Have a nice day ✨

okay hiii, sorry for the late reply i got nervous 😭😭

tyy so much for the compliments, you’re literally too sweet

i love the composition of your pieces like how hermes is floating but is still enshrouded in shadow behind odysseus, or how you referenced athena with the owlish mask/her shield with meduas’ face!

i am also in love with your artstyle, it’s so smooth and crisp!!

anywho thanks for sending an ask, i hope you have a good weekend! ^^ <3

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

Yandere Coworker (part 2)

Tw: Afab and fem reader, Cyprus doesnt take no for an answer and keeps you in his apartment

masterlist, part 1, part 3

You woke up with the biggest hangover of your life. Your mouth was dry and your head was pounding against your skull, you could feel the alcohol from last night sloshing around your stomach.

You squeezed an eye shut while the other struggled to focus on your surroundings. This is not your bedroom.

Your blood runs cold upon realizing that you're not in your work clothes. But an oversized shirt that's exposing one side of your shoulder and reaching to your knees. Cyprus must have changed you last night, god knows what else he did to you while you're that vulnerable.

There is a ceiling fan above you that clearly hasn't been cleaned for a while. Old, ripped and yellowed posters of famous fighters were plastered on his off white walls, they're not even straightened. A pair of red boxing gloves were hung on the side of his wardrobe, whereas his suitcase is on a lone table by the corner.

You could hear something sizzling outside, it must be Cyprus cooking.

You got out of his bed and exited his room, gulping and bracing what's to come.

"Morning." He gruffed. You scanned the room and saw that it's a modest living room with a small kitchenette away from the main door. It's a bit bare, just a couch, a TV on a wooden stand, a dining table that fits four and a printer awkwardly pressed against a wall. It was resting on a stool.

There is a tattered punching bag in the corner, hanging from above. It has definitely seen better days.

You noted that he has two pedestal fans and another ceiling one, but no air conditioning.

You turned your attention to him, he was plating the food on some paper plates. Cyprus picked them up and turned around, tilting his head towards the table. You tried to ignore the fact that he's half-naked, only wearing a pair of shorts. You knew that the majority would salivate over his oddly unscarred, sculpted body and veiny arms. There was a healthy, bushy happy trail on his abdomen, looks like he had let them grow rampant.

You went ahead and sat down on one of the chairs. He placed a dish down in front of you before taking a seat himself.

It's toast, sausages and eggs, cooked the way you usually prefer.

"You told me last night, this is how you liked your eggs." He mumbled, digging into his own breakfast which consisted of the same items, just in more quantities fitting to his stature. "I hope I can trust the Drunk You."

You went straight to the point and asked what happened.

"We didn't fuck, if that's what you're asking." He nonchalantly told you as he stabbed his omelet with a plastic fork. "You puked all over yourself, so I had to change you before bringing you to bed."

You were astonished at the difference in his language at home, compared to the one at work.

You asked what the time is. You're going to be late for work and you cannot afford to lose this job.

He furrowed his eyebrows as he chewed. "Relax. I called in sick for you."

He did what now?

"I took an emergency leave off work today too. We're free until Monday." He continued, acting like this is a totally mundane topic to talk about.

You rubbed your face, dreading the day where you're going to have to face your coworkers.

"What's up with you?" He asked, staring at your flustered face. "And eat up, your plate is getting cold."

You asked him how he called in to tell your manager that you won't be coming in.

He shrugged. "Pick up the phone. Dial the number. Call. Hang up."

You said that wasn't what you meant, you asked what he told your boss.

"I said you were too sick to come in. What more do you want from me?"

You asked if you provided context behind his words. He couldn't just possibly do that on your behalf can he?

"I told Jane it was none of her business. All she needed to know was that you're not coming in and so am I."

Jane, the devil you and everyone else on your floor call a manager. He wouldn't have let that response slide if you were to do the same.

And she is a gossip super spreader. You're sure the entire building is already making their own speculations about the relationship between you and him.

You stood up and paced around, trying to expel the nervous energy you built up. Cyprus looked at you quizzingly as he munched on his toast.

You ask how he is so calm about all of this, does he not care about being the center of gossip when he gets back?

"Fuck them. I don't care what they think." He turned his focus back to his plate, stabbing more food and shovelling it into his mouth.

But you do. You didn't tell him that, though.

"Damn, sit down. You're always so jumpy. It's just me and none of Jane's crap you have to face at work." He complained. You still fidget with your hands and walk around in short circles.

"You know, I always wondered if you're as jittery when you're not in the office. I guess this confirms it, you are. How could you live like that, always feeling on edge twenty-four-seven?" He pushed his glasses back up, his grey eyes trailing your every move.

You told him that you have to go home. You have something to do, mumbling about chores and other weak excuses.

"That can wait. We should talk more." He brought his hand up to your arm, firmly grabbing them and trying to lead you back to your chair.

You said no, you have to go.

"You and I know it isn't urgent. Come on, sit down. I'll reheat your breakfast up for you." You managed to slip out of his loosened grip.

You asked where your phone, clothes and belonging are.

"They're in my apartment. Safe and intact. You'll get them, don't worry. Just, sit." His patience is thinning but you're too frazzled to notice.

You said you have to check your emails to see if Jane-

"Park it!" Cyprus barked as he rose up from his seat, pointing at the empty chair opposite of him, causing you to flinch at his raised voice. You hurriedly followed his command and sat down.

He sighed. "You really need to stop thinking about work."

You kept your lips sealed as you trembled. Fearing Cyprus. As promised, he took your plate to be reheated in the microwave. You wonder if it's safe to be microwaving a paper plate.

While that's happening, he pulled out two empty glasses from his cabinets and a jug of juice from his fridge. He sets them on the table and poured you and himself some.

"Christ, you're so shaky. Loosen up!" He snarked.

You said you have no idea how to approach this situation, it's completely new and you're being caught off guard. How are you going to relax when you don't know what to expect?

"Well, first off. I'm not going to hurt the girl I'm trying to get with." He walked to the microwave as it beeps. "That's you, by the way. If it wasn't already painfully obvious." He sarcastically remarked, pulling out your steaming plate.

"Here you go, princess." His tone was softened and endearing as he placed your plate in front of you once again, it's mildly soggy but still in one piece, holding your food. You reluctantly picked up your disposable plastic fork and ate, since your stomach was grumbling.

He returned to his seat and continued his breakfast too.

"Secondly," Cyprus gulped his food down. "I want you to tell me more about yourself, and I'll talk about my life."

You didn't respond to him, still warily watching him as you ate.

"I'll go first." He set his fork on his plate. "My name is Cyprus. Cyprus Andrea Rodriguez."

That explains the "R" in your Valentine's Day note. You found it amusing that his Initials spell out 'C.A.R'.

"I work in finance. You know that." You nodded.

"I smoke. I like my coffee black. I drive. I cook." He started rapid-firing facts about himself while counting his fingers. You already knew all these.

You asked him about the boxing gloves in his room. He smirked and leaned back against his chair, bringing his arms behind his head.

"Not so fast, your turn to tell me about yourself, pretty girl." You coughed in your hand to try and hide the fluttering of your chest upon hearing that nickname.

You also told him things that he already knew. You worked on the same floor as him, you do not smoke, you like your hot drinks a certain way and you like your eggs like how you're eating it right now.

He pursed his lips. "Pfft. Boring. I want to know what you do after work."

You said you would go home and scroll endlessly on social media. Or do more work.

"You're not fooling me, doll. I know a generic to-go reply when I hear one. I'm not your coworker here, you can tell me."

You thought about it. Yes, you would go to dinners and gatherings with your friends and other colleagues, but those aren't usually for fun. They're for keeping up appearances. Aside from that, you would just rot with your phone.

You told him that you would go out with friends.

"Who?" He brought his hands to his side and leaned towards you, now very interested in knowing your social circle.

You said he wouldn't know. It's no one from work. You quickly switched the conversation about his boxing gloves again. It seems like he wanted to say something else, but he ended up disclosing about his hobby.

"I box in my free time. It's a good way to release all that pent-up stress from dealing with Jane's shit on the daily." You eyed his deformed ears. Then you asked him if he does it for money too.

"Yes. It's one of my side hustles." He scraped the remainder of his eggs from his dish.

You asked what he was doing at the bar last night.

"Ah, ah. Your turn to answer my question, pretty girl. What were you doing at the bar last night?" He narrowed his eyes at you.

You said that you felt like drinking and going to the bar outside office hours. Was that so wrong?

He stared at you for a bit before replying, "You don't seem like the type."

You asked what he meant by that.

"You were never great at handling your own stress, doll. I know you don't like the smell of bars and the taste of booze. You were there as a 'last-resort' type of act, and I bet it's because of the guilt for standing me up."

While that is true, you don't necessarily appreciate Cyprus calling out as it is. You would very much prefer to remain in denial.

You said he has a good point. Then you proceed to ask him why was he there, in that one specific bar out of thousands in the city.

"I was there for a boxing match."

A match? Where?

"Somewhere." He was vague in his answer, you can only assume that it's nearby. "Next, what do you do on the weekends?"

You do not like these questions. They make you reflect upon your life.

You said spending time with friends, rot on the internet, or work. The last part made Cyprus grimace in disgust.

"The last thing on your mind during the weekends should be Jane's bitching. Work? Really?" You shrugged, saying that you're trying to save up enough for... you actually don't really know what you're saving for at this point. You're just doing what everyone is doing.

"You know you can't bring all that cash with you when you're dead, right?" He stood up, taking the empty disposables with him. Cyprus chucked it into the trashcan in his kitchenette.

You disregarded his last sentence and asked him about the paper plates and disposable utensils.

"They're cheap, and I don't have to do the dishes." what an interesting way of living.

You asked about his plans over the next three days. A flash of fear crossed your mind when you remembered you had to face your coworkers on Monday. They are going to ask all kinds of invasive questions and you're going to have to speak like a politician.

"What do you want to do?" He asked, leaning against his counter and staring down at you.

You said you wanted to pack up and go home.

He lets out a loud buzzing sound from his vocal cords. "Wrong answer, I'm not done with you yet."

You asked if you could at least have your clothes back.

"Later. They're in the wash."

You asked where is the wash.

"Downstairs."

You asked if you could go downstairs.

"Nope."

Why?

"It's lame down there, I'd have to say hi to my neighbors. And, I want to talk to you alone."

You asked if you can have your phone.

"Nope."

Why?

"It's charging."

Where?

"Not telling you." He pulled out a pack of smokes from his pocket and switched the stove on to light the cancer stick up.

You said you need your phone.

"To do what? More work? Dream on, I'm not helping you waste your life." He placed the cigarette into his mouth. Cyprus walked up to the window and blew puffs out of it. Occasionally he tapped his cigarette to knock the ashes off it.

You said you just need to check it. Someone might try to contact you in the event of an emergency!

"Trust me, it's nothing important. They're all from Jane." He took another drag of his cig.

You asked when will he be "done with you".

"When I feel like it."

You fell into silence, trying to think of something else to ask.

"I like you." He said, supporting himself over the windowsill with an arm. "You don't play that fake bullshit with me, you don't try to kiss my ass or fuck me over either. I like that a lot."

You watched him enjoy his smoke.

"You don't go around blabbering with a huge mouth. You're the only one in that damn building who minded your own business and respected me. I liked that."

You don't think you're any less nosy than your coworkers. But it was fascinating to see yourself through his eyes. Was that how you came off? You just didn't give a crap about Cyprus because he was antisocial and most likely wouldn't help you advance or destroy your career.

"And you're so fucking cute too. I had to snatch you up before anyone else did. But I couldn't lay it too thick, you and your reputation among the other mindless drones. I would have scared you off if I gave you roses in person, those pricks would have made a huge deal if I signed your letter with my full name." He stubbed his finished cigarette against the ashtray on the windowsill. Cyprus turned around and moved to the chair, he pulled it out and sat on it.

"I guess I came on too weak. It's fair. You wouldn't have known your gifts were from me. Did you like the chocolates? They were selling out fast, I knew I had to grab one for you."

You said it was nice, not knowing how to respond to his long rant.

You blurted out a question, asking him how he would define the relationship between you and him.

"You're my girl, duh."

You didn't know how to ask the next question without sounding rude or condescending, you wanted to ask what made him think you agreed to it. But no matter how you try to frame it, your question appears as a rejection. You didn't have to ask to have it answered, since he deduced from your uneasy expression.

"Fine. Deny all you want." He crossed his arms over his chest. "Let's see how long that lasts."

You decided to rip the bandaid out and told him you're not interested in a relationship. You tried to convince him that you were not worth the effort, but your words entered one ear and out of the other.

You were interrupted by a hearty laugh erupting from his throat. It soon died down, Cyprus leaned closer, and he lowered and deepened his voice to a husky growl.

"You should know, that once I set my sights on you, there is no stopping me." His piercing grey eyes struck terror in your heart. "I am a dogged man, princess. I do whatever it takes to get the girl I want and I don't share."

You're uncomfortable, this is a completely different Cyprus than what you're used to. You missed the quiet man who would keep his distance from everyone, not this menace.

You're going to have to figure out how to deal with your new unwanted lover by Monday.

[chaotic-on-main]

Chapter 8: June - Part 4 [NSFW]

☾ Pairings ➼ Levi Ackerman x fem!mute!Reader (she/her pronouns), set in a modern semi-fictional world

☾ Summary ➼ Due to childhood trauma, you find yourself an adult without the ability to speak. After years of working on it, you have found ways to live without a voice. Now here in your late 20s, you are 5 months in getting used to a new town. On a fateful day in late November, you and your adopted sister visit a local bookstore-café, unaware of the friendships about to blossom. Throughout the months, one friendship in particular develops into something more.

☾ Content/Warnings ➼ fluff, slowburn, oblivious feelings, romance, angst, mention of minor character deaths, trauma, illness, adoption, mentions of fire, disabilities, alcohol use, very light nsfw mentions, references to child abuse, smoking and alcohol abuse mentions, domestic violence, light assault, uhhh- sex? idk how to tag this kind of stuff. SPEAKING OF...

☾ Author's note ➼ Hehe, hi! I bet y'all never thought you'd see this tag OR BANNER on here ever. Tbh, I thought I would never see this tag or banner on any of my writings. But uhhhh- here we are! If it isn't obvious, this is my first time EVER writing smut. I've never even written self-indulgent smut before because it is REALLY HARD FOR ME TO DO. That's mainly why this chapter took so long (I'M SORRY); I wanted to make sure it was perfect. If you're a minor and read the smut I will find you and cut you! Hehe. Anyways. Again, I am so sorry this chapter took so long!! I've hit quite a rut in my life and I'm just really glad to have gotten it done in the first place. Let me know what y'all think!! ALSO CAN Y'ALL BELIEVE THERE'S ONLY ONE MORE PART LEFT HOLD ME I'M CRYING

☾ Word Count ➼ ~10.9k

The visual of Levi’s bewilderment haunts you just as much as the feeling of his lips on yours does. You’re not sure why you thought kissing your friend would be a good idea at all. Regret gnaws at you as you find yourself in a vicious cycle of rumination.

But it wasn’t all regret, was it? You wanted to kiss him. And you liked it.

Maybe it wasn’t regret at all, actually. What you really felt in your core was disappointment. At yourself for not thinking before acting and at him for not responding the way you inwardly hoped he would. If Levi’s cold shoulder this morning wasn’t proof enough, you don’t know what was.

“Love?” Hange’s voice cuts through the white noise reverberating through your skull. Slowly, you turn to where your sister currently sits with light green paste smeared all over their face. You blink the glassiness away and raise an eyebrow at them – which is a little hard to do as you have the same paste smudged on your face that is in the process of drying.

“Were you listening at all?” Concerned eyes bore into yours. You’d say you were thankful for the green tea facial that covers the dark circles under your lashes, but you knew Hange had noticed the moment they laid eyes on you today. They click their tongue and sit upright in your direction.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?”

‘What do you mean?’

“You look like you didn’t sleep a wink last night and you have been out of it all day. What are you thinking about?”

‘It’s nothing. Just had trouble sleeping.’

“You’re only restless when you have something on your mind.”

You stick your bottom lip out. In truth, you really did want to talk about it, but you weren’t sure what you wanted to say. Hange wasn’t the type to let things go when it came to you though, especially when you’re distressed. You’d need to say something now whether you liked it or not.

‘I like Levi.’ You sign quickly, averting your gaze from the piercing light-brown eyed stare burning holes in your face. You sigh softly and tuck your chin in the white fluffy robe that wraps around your body, ignoring the fact that you’re wiping the face mask off into the fabric as you do. It takes them a moment to realize you’re not planning on saying anything else.

“And that’s upsetting?” They laugh and relax back into the plush cushions. “That’s nothing new. I’ve known for a long time.”

Your eyes cut over to Hange again at that, wide in shock.

‘You knew? How? Since when?’

“I know when someone’s smitten. And you my darling? You are smitten like a kitten.” They roll their head in your direction as they speak, eyes sparkling. “Probably since February.”

Was it that early?

‘Can you be specific?’ You feel your face heat up from under the thick mask.

“If only you had a mirror. You should see the way you look at Levi. It’s so obvious, even Nanaba picked up on it.” They smirk as they twist in your direction, resting their chin on a hand that sits propped up on the armrest. A wide smile carved up and into their eyes.

“What happened last night anyways that made you discover this known secret?” Hange already knew, they had to have. Their demeanor changed from worried to curious in the blink of an eye.

‘Nothing.’ You sit back in a huff, closing your eyes.

You hear Hange sigh softly but doesn’t press for the next half hour. Your body sinks deeper into the plush massage chair as your head sits back on the head rest. Off to the side, you hear the soft babbling of the fountain piece that pairs wells with the gentle spa music that floats from the ceiling speakers down to your ears. Your brain wanders and you feel the heaviness that comes with sleep about to settle in.

“Excuse me?” A sudden voice startles you. You pop an eye open to see a spa employee in mint robes standing in front of the chairs you and Hange were relaxing in. “It’s time to move on to the hot pools, are you both ready?”

“Oh yes!! I’ve been looking forward to this part.” Hange exclaims, practically throwing themselves out of the chair.

.

The steamy mineral water stings your skin upon first contact. It wasn't uncomfortably hot, but it was close. It takes you a few seconds to get used to it and before you know it, you’re sinking low until your nose is submerged. Only your eyes and up show, like a crocodile floating as it hunts. You had put your hair up so that it wouldn’t get wet, but a few loose strands decide they want to get wet anyways as they float around your face.

Your sister, on the other hand, does not take the gentle approach. Before you know it, they’re running down the ramp ass naked. They throw themselves into the water when they get deep enough, throwing water straight in your face. Luckily, the pools are slotted out by appointments so it’s just the two of you in the small, enclosed room. They disappear for a second, submerged in the water leaving only ripples behind that float across the top.

“Are you going to tell me what happened now?” Hange’s low voice comes from right next to you, causing your heart to skip a beat. Despite the unnerving crawl of your skin, you side eye them and shake your head.

Their words bounce around in your skull. If even Nanaba picked it up, that would mean Levi knew too, right? Is that why he brushed you off this morning? This wouldn’t be the first time that he’s held things back from you, but you hoped that had changed in the last handful of months. A fleeting thought of going to him first zooms through your mind and disappears just as quickly.

“Did he kiss you?” Hange’s voice is so close that you feel the heat of their breath blowing right against your ear. You push back from instinct, swatting the water and subsequently splashing them in the face.

“Oh my, he definitely did. Look at your face!” Hange muses as they tread up closer to your face and there’s half a foot between noses. You shove at the tops of their shoulders and blow them a raspberry. They were ever persistent.

‘If you must know, he didn’t kiss me.’ You’re suddenly focused on the waterspout sitting opposite of you on the wall.

“Damn. I was rea-“

‘I kissed him.’

“Wha-?! You?!”

Without another word, you turn your back on their open-mouthed stare and head for the sitting ledge in the back corner. Steam rises off your warm skin as you do, merging easily with the rest of the hot air. Hange follows, mumbling under their breath as they process the news. When you twist to sit down, you’re face to face with Hange as they squat into the water across from you.

“I’m guessing by your reactions, it didn’t go well?”

‘He pulled away and gave me a weird look.’

“What did he say after?”

You don’t answer that, instead you slide into the water until you’re halfway submerged again. The hot water tingles against your raw face, making you wince until the uncomfortable feeling subsides. A few bubbles burst on the surface from your released huff.

“You didn’t give him a chance to, did you?” They raise an eyebrow at you. The amusement that tugged at their features melted away to reveal concern. You raise your hands out of the water, water droplets falling back in with little splashes.

‘He pulled away quickly and gave me a look that didn’t really scream “yay”. What was I supposed to do?’

“Sit and talk to him like the adult you are?” More bubbles pop at the surface as your eyes narrow at them.

‘What if he doesn’t want to talk? Or even see me? Or be my friend anymore?’

“Well, did he kiss back?”

‘I don’t know. I can’t remember. A lot was happening.’

“I imagine he did. He likes you too, you know.”

You roll your eyes at that. Maybe he did, maybe he didn’t. But that doesn’t change the shocked expression that he stared at you with before you ran off for the night. You feel the pressure of his lips on your mouth again and it makes your heart skip a beat. How confusing this all was.

“Want me to make him talk to you?” Hange says with a smirk on their lips.

‘Don’t even think about it. He’ll just kill both of us.’ You flick water in their direction at which they chuckle at it.

“Just give it some time, you’ll figure it out. But probably not too much time because this was a friend group before you both decided to catch feelings and I will not have this group break apart because you both want to be teenagers about it all.” They shrug their shoulders at that.

‘What happens if we never talk again?’

“Not allowed. I’ll lock you two in a room if I have to. Oh wait, maybe I should do that? Then you’ll either talk, fight, or kiss again.” They ramble on, tapping a forefinger on their chin as they think. Their eyes shoot over to yours, wide and full of excitement.

“If you both start dating, it’s for the long run by the way. Marriage or nothing. I can’t risk the friend group falling apart.” They joke. Part of you thinks there’s a bit of truth in their words but you let it slide. The prospect of marriage though? Was it your face heating up at the thought or the hot water?

You give them an exasperated look despite it all, offering them a thumbs down as well.

“I’m only half joking. You and him will figure something out eventually. Who knows, maybe it’s all a misunderstanding! You’re shy and he’s… well. Him. Maybe you just need to make the first move.” They offer you a small smile, their eyes softening again.

 That fleeting thought from earlier comes back. Again, Hange’s words held some truth as they always do. You already made the first move and that didn’t work out the way you planned. But If Levi didn’t know to come to you, maybe you would have to open that door for him, granted he doesn’t slam it in your face. You decide you’ll do what you can to pull him aside tonight.

.

Much to your dismay, the appointment ends too quickly. Fortunately, Hange kept up with their promise of taking you shopping since there were a few hours until it was time to meet up with the boys who were no doubt still out golfing. You laugh at the idea of Levi standing on the greens with a signature bored expression, but then you remember you were supposed to be anxious. You don’t know what you’re going to say to him.

After a while, you forget your worries for a time. Hange finds a really nice pantsuit that frames their tall body well. You found a simple sundress that frills out on your waist in a color that your sister exclaimed matched your eyes so well. And it was nice being able to chat, that feeling of dread that coursed through your veins like ice forgotten.

That is until you’re standing in front of Levi with your hands twisting in each other – a nervous habit you picked up just recently. The fabric of your dress feels like it’s digging into your skin as you stand awkwardly, your heart feeling as if it might explode. He doesn’t even look your way, eyes glued to his phone as he mindlessly scrolls. The idea of getting him to talk to you falters.

He's wearing a slate gray dress shirt in a complementary shade for his eyes. The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows neatly. The rest of his outfit is clean yet casual and perfect for the place Erwin had reserved. Some of his hair falls in his face as he continues to look down, ignoring the fact that Erwin was calling everyone to attention.

“Are we ready to go? The taxi is here.” Erwin gives you and Hange a once over when he looks up from his phone. “Wow, you both look like you had a good day - practically glowing.” He gives you a beaming smile and you force one back in return, feeling the quivering of your muscles as your lips pull back.

Levi glances up finally and his dark eyes scan the room. When they land on you, they linger for a second longer before he looks away as he pulls himself up from the barstool. You did not miss the subtle surprise that flashed across his face as well as his eyes flickering down to the sakura necklace you put back on for this evening. You had taken it off the last few days to keep it safe, something you were not used to doing before. You almost sighed in relief when you felt the familiar and subtle weight around your neck again.

The car ride to the restaurant was fortunately short but to you, it was agonizing the whole time. Erwin opted for the front seat to help direct the driver so that left you, Hange, and Levi in the back. Your sister forced you in the middle and they claimed it was for safety reasons but you knew better.

Your almost bare thigh sits against Levi’s after you all piled in, snug as can be. You pull your arms together so that you’re not squishing into Levi any more than you have to. He’s facing the window, arm propped up and leaning against it as he looks out. You spend the whole ride rehearsing what you wanted to say to him.

When the taxi parks in front of the restaurant, you take a deep breath. It was now or never, you tell yourself. You force yourself out of Levi’s side after he slides out, having to push the door as he almost shuts it in your face.

You’re able to reach far enough to grab his wrist to make him stop and he spins on you quickly, eyes flaring with annoyance – barely softening when he notices it’s you. It takes all of your strength to keep your fingers latched on to him despite the look on his face. After a moment, he helps you out of the car with that same hand, making sure to keep you steady as you almost trip on the curb.

‘Can we talk?’  You sign quickly.

He considers you, eyebrows pinched the way they do.

“Tch. We don’t have time, Hange and Erwin are waiting for us.” He finally grumbles back, eyes aimed at the retreating figures now walking through the double glass doors. He turns on his heels and leaps up the stairs, leaving you and your hurt feelings at the bottom.

So much for trying.

Even in your sour mood, you still appreciate how beautiful the restaurant is from the outside. It’s very high end with a large crystal chandelier peeping out of the tall windows that make up the majority of the front wall. The railings of both sides of the stairs are adorned with growing vines and colorful flowers. A simple sign in neat cursive hangs above the front doors, reading ‘La Crevette’. You raise an eyebrow at that but say nothing before making your way into the air-conditioned interior alone.

The inside is even better. The gold inlay that decorates the white marble adds a delicate and elegant tone. On the walls sit ceiling high mirrors that you can’t help but stare in as your eyes scan the new surroundings. You catch Levi’s eyes in the reflection before he turns away to follow the hostess who is now leading you all to your designated table.

To say that the atmosphere at the table was so tense you could cut it with a knife would have been an understatement. You find yourself sitting across from Levi - at least 5 feet away. The chill emanating from him makes you shiver and you wish you had brought a jacket with you.

Orders were already taken so now you sit in silence as Hange and Erwin compare the activities they both did today. Levi’s fingers drum against the clothed table as he stares out the window to the left of you. It looks out into the ocean, the setting sun painting the sky, those beautiful oranges and pinks that you liked so much. You fidget with the napkin that sits across your lap in tight fingers as you stare. Erwin calls your name.

“So how did you like the spa? Did they take care of you as well?” His clear eyes stare into yours with interest.

You smile politely and nod, signing along saying ‘They did, it was quite luxurious. Thank you for setting it up for us.’ He smiles back and chuckles.

“Hange said the baths were really nice. We might have to stop by one before we leave town, huh Levi?” The attention is now diverted onto a very bored looking Levi. He only hums in response, shrugging his shoulders as well.

‘You look like you got quite a bit of sun today.’ Your smile wavers as you eye him. There’s a soft flush across his cheeks as well as his nose and forehead. His gaze flickers up to you and you think you spot conflict in his steely eyes.

“I forgot a hat.” He says back, his curt tone a little too sharp for you. You pretend to not hear it. Your eyes fall onto your water glass after that, Hange and Erwin going back to talking about the other things they did today.

By the time dinner comes and disappears, the tense atmosphere barely stagnates. You sense Erwin and Hange can feel it too, but they don’t say anything. The only things you’re given are looks, ranging from curiosity to what you imagine is understanding. You don’t blame them though, this is really something that you and Levi need to hash out. Anxiety gnaws at your chest as you continue to pull on the thin fabric of your dress.

Eventually, the waiter comes with the check and hands it over to Erwin per his request - you all knew better than to argue with him about it. When Erwin hands the black book back with his card of choice, the waiter takes it and leans over to start gathering dishes out of the way. As he reaches from behind you, the feeling of his sleeve brushing against the side of your neck makes you stiffen up. When he pulls away, a small pop resonates by your ear.

The lack of weight around your neck is instantaneous. You watch in silent horror at your favorite necklace plopping into your lap softly. Everything goes quiet as you pick up the chain in shaky fingers, almost losing the sakura pendant as you do. The sight of the delicate golden chain now broken in a place that would not be an easy fix makes you feel like someone is stepping on your chest - crushing you.

You feel hot tears rolling down your face and you blink hard a few times. You’re in too much shock to make a sound. The waiter’s incessant apologies come muffled as realization dawns on you. You should have kept it tucked away and safe. You shouldn’t have kissed Levi. This necklace is you and Levi right now. Broken necklace, broken friendship. Your fault. All of it is your fault.

Placing it on the table gently, you force another sweet smile, one that closes your eyes and you feel more tears pressing out as you do.

‘I’m going to get some air.’ You sign.

Before anyone can protest, you push your chair out and away from the table, bumping into the still apologizing waiter. You sign a few hard apologies yourself before running down the ramp to the host station and out the front doors. Your feet take off down the street in the direction of the condo, tears streaming still but not a single sob escaping your lips.

A hand closes around your wrist, the force of your speed almost knocking you back as someone holds you still. The firm grip is telling enough that you don’t have to look around to see who it is, but you do anyway. Levi is out of breath from running after you, chest heaving and hair windswept.

“Where are you going?” His voice is stern and laced with annoyance.

You only shake your head in response, still feeling the tears rolling down your cheeks and off your chin. You have no energy left for a fake smile and his subtle annoyance feels like another knife in the chest. You’re not sure if it was the exhaustion, the necklace, or Levi, but you feel inexplicable rage boiling over. Ripping your arm out of his grip, you start signing roughly.

‘Why are you here?’

“I’m worried about you. You’re upset.” His steely eyes cut into yours, narrowing.

‘You could have fooled me. It seems to me you want nothing to do with me, ignoring me the way you have all day. What do you want?’ He flinches at that, surprised by your less than normal aggression.  

“I-I’m sorry. I just don’t…” He runs his fingers through his hair, pushing it back and out of his face. He stumbles through his words, something you’ve never seen him do. But you can’t think about that right now, your patience is thinning and you can’t face him if he still refuses to acknowledge the hurt he’s dealt to you even if he didn’t realize it.

‘‘I can’t fix it.’ You sign shakily, fingers fumbling over each other.

“I’ll take a look at it. And if it’s not fixable, I can just get you a new one.” It dawns on you that Levi doesn’t understand, and you’re not certain if he ever did.

‘I’m not talking about the necklace, Levi!’ You’re in the middle of the sidewalk slamming your hands together as people rush past you two. As always, it feels as if it’s just you and Levi and everyone else are blurring streaks in the background. This time, it doesn’t feel as pleasant.

He doesn’t say anything back, choosing to stare with his lips parted as if he wanted to.

‘Why won’t you just talk to me? I thought you trusted me with yourself.’

“I do. Trust you, I mean.”

‘Then talk to me!’

“It’s not that simple.”

‘Right.’ You don’t give Levi a chance to refute as you turn around swiftly and start off in the direction of the condo, head hung low as you do your best to sniffle quietly. Fortunately, no one looks your way as you shuffle down the sidewalk.

Different layers of pain pile on your shoulders and you’re not sure how you’re going to get out from under them. The worst of them all seems to seep into your heart in a heavy way, weighing you down so much that you’re surprised you make it back to the elevator of the condo without collapsing. When the doors shut in front of you, you allow yourself to finally fall apart like you’ve been wanting to all day, sobs racking from deep within your chest.

.

The moment you get into the bedroom, you slam the door behind you and prep for bed. The lingering sunlight filters through the room, painting the room gold. You didn’t care what time it was, you just knew you were ready to pass out from the day.

As you loosen your hair from the multitude of pins sticking in it, you stare at yourself in the bathroom mirror. Your eyes are bloodshot, the skin around them puffy. At least you don’t have to do much since your tears broke down most of the makeup already, only needing the gentle swipe of a cloth. The moment after you slip on your sleepwear, you toss yourself into the soft sheets of your temporary bed and curl in on yourself.

The hurt from last night comes back tenfold. Only this time, frustration burns under your skin. Before you know it, nightmares come to you in the form of dark slate grays.

The next time your eyes open, they’re met with darkness. You’re not sure if the moon decided to stay away or if the clouds had rolled in during your slumber, but regardless your vision is pitch-black. Soft snoring to your right indicates that Hange had made it back and is currently deep in sleep. You vaguely recall hearing them calling out to you when they came back shortly after you fell asleep.

Rolling onto your back, you are greeted with the dim red light from the alarm clock illuminating the ceiling. You imagine it’s quite late in the night considering how refreshed you feel despite the lingering melancholy from dinner.

With a huff, you sit up and swing your legs off the bed. Your bare feet hit the cool, hard floor and you make quick yet quiet work of sneaking out of the bedroom. You know Hange could sleep through anything, but you did not want to suffer on the off-chance they woke up – you were not prepared to face them right now.

After closing the bedroom door, you pad over to the fridge and pull it open. The only drink options were a couple of beers and a handful of caffeinated sodas. You wish you had a cup of Levi’s tea in your hands, but instead you opt for water from the filtered pitcher. After taking a tentative sip of it, you decide that going back to sleep was not an option for you. You kick yourself for potentially screwing up your sleep schedule for the rest of the trip but that was a problem for future you.

With a cold glass in hand, you step over to the plush couch and sink into it. Grabbing the remote in the other, you turn it on and flinch as you’re met with a loud commercial about an action movie coming out soon. Quickly, you turn the volume down to one and sit still as you listen for any sounds of your roommates – luckily it stays silent. You sigh softly.

You pull over a blanket from the other side of the couch and tuck yourself in. You let your mind wander for a bit as a random movie starts to play, the low volume buzzing in the background. Thankfully, your thoughts stay away from Levi. That is, until you watch as a teacup is placed down on the glass coffee table in front of you with a clink as well as delicate fingers pulling away from the handle.

Blinking the glassiness from your vision, your eyes trail up the muscular arm that belongs to a weary-eyed Levi. His gaze shifts away quickly as he lowers himself on the other side of the couch as far as possible from you. He lifts his own teacup to his lips and takes a small sip, eyes forward on the movie ahead.

He doesn’t say anything to you, which you’re not certain if you should be grateful for, or annoyed. You were thinking about wanting some of his tea earlier, but now that it’s here, you’re torn between indulging him or not. As your eyes narrow on the steam that rises off the amber liquid, Levi pipes up finally.

“I didn’t poison it, if that’s what you’re wondering.” He mumbles. You flicker your eyes over to him, but his gaze stays glued to the TV in front.

You let out a soft huff and reach for it, taking the handle in between two fingers and pulling it up to your mouth. Upon the first sip, you withhold a sigh of content. Levi always knew how to make a mean cup of tea. But you won’t say that to him right now. You’re still fuming, tea or no. With that thought, you down it the best you can despite the scorching heat of it as it burns itself down to the pit of your stomach.

You stand when you’ve finished, placing the cup back onto the saucer and then turning around to fold the blanket back up. The space is turning tense by the second and you don’t want to deal with this right now. After placing the blanket on the armrest, you reach down to grab your tea set as well as Levi’s, but his hand stops you as his fingers close around your wrist once again.

“Stay. Please? I want to talk.” You side eye him, noting the nervousness in his eyes. If it wasn’t for that, you would have stormed off. For once, it seems Levi is ready to talk, and whether you were ready or not, you needed to listen.

Setting the saucers back down, you sit on the other side of the couch again, facing him with your arms placed over your chest. Only now do you realize you’re still in a nightgown that barely covers your ass and no bra. Trying to be natural about it, you grab the pillow that sits in the middle of the cushion and pull it to your chest to cover up.

“Are you having trouble sleeping?” He rubs the back of his neck as he watches you. His anxiety looks like it’s about to overflow.

‘Is that really all you want to talk about? Small talk?’

“No! Of course not.” He grumbles. He mirrors you, folding his arms across his chest. He’s getting defensive again.

‘Then what do you want?’ You click your tongue in annoyance.

“I don’t know wha-…” He falters.

‘You do know what you want. You just won’t say it.’

“It’s not that simple.”

‘But you know, don’t you? What is holding you back? What is making this so difficult for you to talk to me?’ Your signs come out more forceful than you meant.

His arms fall into his lap as his focus darts to the tv off to the side. You eye him warily and purse your lips while you wait for him to continue, which he does after sighing heavily in frustration.

“I’m afraid, okay? I’ve never felt so conflicted about stuff like this before. But I’m sorry I’ve been ignoring you all day. It wasn’t my intention to hurt you, I just didn’t know how to face you. Or what to even say to you.”

“I’m sorry.” he says quietly, shifting his gaze back to your face.

The look in his eyes is chock-full of anxiety and panic. Your fingers are flying before you can stop them. The strong walls of anger you had put up for protection start crumbling away, making room for disappointment as well as regret for making him feel this way.

‘I shouldn’t have kissed you, I’m sorry to have caused you so much strife.’ You bite the inside of your cheek.

Levi scoffs at that, his gray eyes cutting over to you, narrowing. He doesn’t say anything right away, instead using this moment to shift on the couch until his knees are against his chest as he faces you a couple feet away. 

“Don’t be sorry.” He whispers finally, dark eyes piercing into yours.

‘You’ve been brushing me off all day. It’s because I kissed you when I shouldn’t have. You hate me. And you regret it even now.’ You feel the tears from earlier start to well again, but you refuse to let them spill in front of Levi.

“Why would I hate you?”

‘I just feel like I ruined our friendship with my actions, and you wouldn’t talk to me about it so I also feel like you want nothing to do with me because of it.’

“I don’t hate you.” He mutters, eyes shifting away before jumping back to yours. “I could never hate you.”

‘Then why won't you talk to me?’

Levi gets up abruptly and starts pacing back and forth in front of you with his shaky fingers raking through his hair. The anxiety radiating off him is palpable.

“It’s hard to put into words.” Levi says simply. A scowl appears as he pinches the bridge of his nose between fingers. He continues to pace, eyes half closed as he mutters to himself. You hear something about ‘not being used to this’ and ‘being blindsided’.

You lean forward and grab his pant leg with tight fingers. His sweatpants’ waistband slides down his hip from the sudden force of your grip, immobilizing him unless he wanted them pulled down any further. His steely eyes snap to your troubled expression and he softens immediately, hands dropping to his sides.

‘Just try.’ You give him your best pleading eyes, bottom lip jutting out as far as it can go.

Levi side eyes you as you hold him in place, his lips pinched into a thin line. He opens his mouth as he attempts to figure out what he wanted to say next. It takes a few tries but eventually, he settles on the last thing you’d expected him to say. It’s like his naturally stoic demeanor melts into something completely unrecognizable – not like you were complaining.

“When you kissed me, it was like I understood everything and nothing at the same time. I was so confused.” Levi mutters under his breath, sitting back down on the couch but this time on the cushion closest to you. His thigh brushes up against your knees, sending tingles up your spine from the sudden contact.

“Ever since you’ve stumbled back into my life, I couldn’t understand why you were always on my mind. I think I do now.” He continues without missing a beat. “I think I’ve always cherished you in some capacity, just in different stages.” Levi places his face in his hands that were propped up against his knees. After a few seconds, his head turns to you with a familiar expression. The way he looks at you reminds you of the little boy next door all those years ago.

“Leeeeeviii!!” You yell as you bound down the front steps without a care in the world. Your brother and Levi currently sit on the lawn, messing around with their action figures who were currently in a heated battle. In your excitement, you completely miss the bottom step and stumble down onto your hands and knees, rough concrete digging into your skin.

The wails that come out of you are loud enough that the dogs across the street start barking. A pair of hands are on you in an instant, helping to pull you up and onto the bottom step that had caused you so much trouble in the first place.

“I’ll go get some bandages.” Your brother says in a panic, running up the stairs and back in the house you had just come out of.

“You’re okay, it’s just some scratches.” You look up through blurry lashes to see Levi staring at your bleeding knees. You’re not going to bleed out, but crimson is trickling down your legs and it’s enough to make you cry harder.

Levi takes your little hands into his slightly bigger ones and inspects them. He brushes off the small gravel that had embedded itself into your skin, his tongue stuck between his teeth in focus. You observe him as best as you can despite the salty water obscuring your vision. Levi’s eyelashes flutter across his cheeks as he turns your hands over to get a better look at them.

“Not cut, just a little dirty. Nothing that can’t be fixed.” He says softly to you. Blue-gray eyes look up into yours and you realize you stopped crying. He offers you a lopsided grin as he squeezes your hand a few times.

“See? Not broken. You’ll be okay.”

He was always so calm with you. You shoot him a toothy grin while squeezing his hand back a few times. So calm. So safe.

“Levi, I’m never letting you go.”

You laugh at the sudden memory that flashes before your vision. You’re grateful for Levi in many ways, despite the fact he made you mad sometimes. Memory recovery was one of the reasons why. Levi’s eyes widen at your sudden outburst.

“What?”

‘Remember when I ate shit outside of my house when we were kids?’

He hesitates as he thinks.

“Which time?” His lips twitch at his comment and you realize it probably wasn’t the first time you had fallen. You appreciate your resilient nature as a kid, taking note of the small scars that probably decorated your knees even to this day.

‘Levi, I think there’s always been a part of me that’s always felt safe with you. And, I think having a future without you in it, no matter what that means, isn’t something I want to see. So, I think that’s why I was so torn up about this. The idea of you leaving just tears me apart.’

Levi sits up at your confession, staring at you in curiosity. There’s a new look of assurance on his face as he eyes you. A pink flush creeps up his neck and into his cheekbones as he focuses back on the colorful screen ahead.

“I don’t have any plans to leave.” He mutters.

There’s more silence, only cut up by the voices on the television and distant crashing of waves from down below. You watch him closely as he blinks slowly, propping his chin up in both arms that sit against his thighs. Before you can sign again, he speaks softly.

“I don’t regret it.” He side-eyes you, as if he were afraid to face you for such a statement.

‘What do you mean you don’t regret it?’

“It means I don’t regret that you kissed me.”

‘Did you want me to kiss you?’

Silence.

“You should probably get some sleep. I’m sure tomorrow will be just as exhausting. We can talk more then.” Levi says quietly, changing the subject.

You narrow your eyes at him, annoyed he would close up after so much progress. But then a yawn so big escapes your mouth and you shove your face into the pillow you were still hugging until it’s done. When you look back up, you see Levi watching you in amusement before his expression changes into indifference quickly. Maybe this would be best saved for the next day when you were both awake.

‘What about you?’

“I don’t sleep much, you know that. I’ll be okay.” He shrugs his shoulders as he gets up from the sofa. He reaches for the remote and turns off the tv then carefully places it back on the coffee table. Then he turns around to offer you a hand which you take, still hugging the pillow to your chest. He raises an eyebrow at that but turns on his heel to head to his bedroom. With a soft sigh, you place the pillow back and follow him down the hallway to your room.

The need to figure out what was going through his mind was strong, but your exhaustion hits harder. As you pass the kitchen, you note the time was about to hit five in the morning which means you have been up for a while. Despite the amount of sleep from earlier, you feel your body giving in to the heaviness of fatigue – no doubt a consequence of having such a taxing day.

You watch as Levi stops outside of his door, right hand gripping the doorknob in white knuckles. As you pass him, you reach over and place your hand on top of his. When his eyes fall on you, you offer a small smile.

 ‘What’s wrong?’

Before you can pull away, Levi says your name and stares over at you with longing.

“What am I to you?”

With shaky hands, you sign back, ‘What would you like to be, Levi?’ Adrenaline courses through your veins like lava at the sudden question.

“Yours.” It’s so soft, barely audible. And yet so full of conviction.

Levi looks down at your lips quickly before jumping back up to your eyes. In a swift motion, he releases the doorknob and grabs your hand, pulling you in closer to him with sudden force. His gaze is as firm as the grip on you, holding you in place. When he speaks again, his words come out measured.

“You’re right, I do know what I want. My answer is yours. I want to be yours.”

Your eyes widen at the sudden confession, and you stare at him with your lips parted in surprise. As if time slowed down, just like in the elevator, Levi tilts your chin in his direction - pinching it gently between his thumb and index finger. He leans in slowly, his eyes staring into yours as he wavers inches away. Levi is so close to you that his hot breath hits your face, and you smell hints of his black tea and traces of pine.

“And I want to kiss you. Is that okay?” You nod, dazed by his proximity.

Carefully, his mouth meets yours and you instantly distinguish the difference between this kiss and the one in the elevator. This one is hesitant, nervous. But traces of ravenous hunger linger as an aftertaste.

That same heat blazes from your face all the way down to your toes. Levi’s fingers move from your chin to right under your jaw, tilting your face into him even more. After a moment, he breaks away granting you a moment to catch your breath. His face is still inches from yours, gray eyes fluttering closed as your forehead rests against his. Your name tumbles out of his mouth, almost like a beg.

“I need to know.” He pulls away from you, the air around you instantly turning cold from the lack of his presence. “Will you let me?”

‘Let you what, Levi?’ You know what he wants, but you just want to hear him say it again. And again and again and again.

“Let me be yours.” Your smile would have blinded the whole world.

‘Mine.’

He leans in again, cupping your whole face in his calloused hand and locking his lips back over yours. The hunger intensifies just like the buzzing throughout your whole system. You open your mouth slightly to let his tongue in to explore and it does, eliciting a quiet moan from you. You swear you hear Levi growl in response. Oh, how touch starved you two were for each other.

As if in sync, Levi opens the bedroom door and you both stumble still lip-locked into his room. He pushes you up against the door, shutting it behind you. If you weren’t so lost in the kiss, you would have been worried by how loud the slam must have been. Levi presses up against you more, sandwiching you between the heat of his body and the cool wooden door behind you. You already feel how hard he is under his sweatpants.

You’re more inexperienced than most so there’s hesitation in your kiss – something Levi picks up on quickly. He pulls away but leaves his hands on your face as he looks at you with apprehension.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to tonight.” He whispers to you. His voice is as sincere as it always is, albeit husky. You place a hand over his that sits on your face, leaning into it as you do before signing back.

‘I want all of you.’ You offer a loving smile, wide and full of adoration for the man in front of you. Levi’s eyes bounce back and forth between yours as if searching for something. He finds nothing but pure truth.

Levi’s lips crash back onto yours, careful but just as heated. As his marred lips leave and make their way down your neck, one of your hands slides up his chest to his undercut until your fingers find what they were looking for, tangling in his raven hair.

The moment you feel his teeth pinch your soft skin, another moan comes out louder than before. Having him pressed up against you like that, the outline of his cock pressing into your stomach, you start to feel your patience slowly unraveling.

Your nervousness flies out the window. This was Levi, you had no reason to worry. Levi is safe to you. He would take care of you as he always does. And you would do the same. The thought makes you smile up at the ceiling. Before you know it, your hands push against Levi’s soft skin, and he pulls away quickly. Worry pools into his dark eyes as he watches you carefully.

“Is everything okay?” He murmurs hoarsely.

Instead of signing back, you force him to step back towards the bed with your palm pressed against his chest until the back of his knees hit the edges of the mattress. The force alone makes him lurch back so that he falls back onto the soft duvet, catching himself on his hands so that he’s sitting up.

In a swift motion, you straddle his hips, and your lips find solace on his mouth yet again. You don’t hesitate to push your tongue through to taste him again, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing yourself into him more.

You don’t mean to, but you find your hips grinding on to him, the only barriers between your already soaked self and Levi being the clothes you wish were off. The pressure and friction against your very sensitive core make you pull away for breath. Levi’s soft grunts are music to your ears and his lips start trailing back down your neck, his teeth finding purchase in your soft skin yet again. His fingers slide up your back, pulling your night dress up with it.

Then a groan comes out of his clenched teeth, full of frustration.

Levi pulls away again and stares up at you with heavy-lidded eyes full of impatience. You note that pink flush of his that you love so much, deeper in color and painting across his cheeks. As you stare down at him, you come to love this version of Levi and you want nothing but to see his face contort at the way you grinded into him. But he places his hands on your hips to keep you still, much to your dismay. You watch him carefully as he speaks, his voice husky.

“I-uh. I want this, I do. But we need to be safe. And I didn’t bri-“ He averts his gaze, staring at the corner of the bed. You were so lost in the exhilaration of it all, you didn’t think about it. A thick appreciation for him crashes over you because his cautious nature, even if it did slightly kill the heat of the moment.

‘Give me a second. I can help with this. Stay here.’ You give him a chaste kiss before sliding off his lap and out the door quickly. You tiptoe your way back to your room, making sure the only sounds that can be heard are the clock ticking on the wall and the muffled continuous crashing of waves just outside.

When you slip into your room, you see Hange flat on their back with their hair tousled everywhere. Soft snores escape their lips, a telltale sign they are out like a light. Hange wasn’t promiscuous in the slightest, but they weren’t closed minded either. And with that, it meant they stayed prepared.

You creep over to their unorganized suitcase where clothes were strewn all over the place. Reaching into the top compartment, your fingers feel the sharp edges of a foil package and slip it out. You blush to yourself as you think back to Levi’s outline as you make sure it’s the right size.

A snort from behind you makes you freeze in place, breath hitched as you sit crouching in silence. A moment passes. Another minute. Hange’s snores fill the room again and you let loose your held breath, shoulders sagging. You’re sure this conversation would come up again later, but you didn’t want to deal with it right now. Especially with Levi waiting for you.

It takes you next to no time to slip out of your room and back into Levi’s, closing his door with a soft click. Turning around, you show him the condom in between pinched fingers and smile widely to Levi who was still sitting on the edge of the bed for you.

“Did you come prepared?” He raises an eyebrow at the glittering foil.

‘No, but Hange do-‘

“I don’t need to know any more.” Levi blurts out, hands up in defeat. A silent laugh shakes your shoulders as you make your way back over to him. You fling the package onto the bed before straddling him again, noting how hard he was underneath you still.

‘Now where were we?’ You sign with a small smile. Levi smirks and places his hand against your cheek, his thumb tracing your bottom lip gently. You playfully nip at him, and he huffs in amusement.

“You’re breathtakingly beautiful, you know that?” He asks you softly before pulling your face into his and locking his lips on yours. It’s a saccharine-laced kiss. His hands find your hips again, lowering until they are fully on your ass, and they squeeze. A squeak escapes into his mouth as he does, and it just makes his grip on your skin tighter.

Pulling away, you grip his t-shirt from the bottom and start tugging it up. Levi leans back so you can pull it up and over his head, discarding it on the bed next to him. Your hands trail down his toned chest and abs, his skin burning under your touch. It’s soft despite the hard muscles underneath them. Your mouth finds his again as your hands explore, not hesitating to slip your tongue into Levi’s already parted lips.

Your hands find their way back in his hair, fingers entwining through the fine strands. You can’t help it – you tug gently, and a small whine comes out of his pouty lips as he’s pulled away from your mouth. Something inside you burns and again you feel your razor thin patience cutting at you. 

As if Levi reads your mind, he wraps an arm around your back while leaving his other hand cupping your ass and stands up effortlessly. In a mere moment, he turns around with you in his strong arms and then gently tosses you on to the bed. A soft laugh escapes you as you land. Everything around you smells like Levi.  

Levi stands at the foot of the bed and stares down at you ravenously, a look you don’t think you’ve ever seen on anyone outside of the movies on your television screen. You sit up on your elbows and watch as he gets on the bed and slowly makes his way on top of you. He meets your lips with his own as his body hovers over yours, his fingers lightly trailing up your arms resulting in goosebumps following in their wake.

Slowly, you lie back down flush to the mattress, his knees digging into the sheets on either side of your thighs. Levi’s lips start to slide down your jaw which gives you some space to breathe but your breaths quickly turn into soft whimpers as his fingers lightly trace across your lower abdomen. His other hand snakes around the back of your neck, supporting it as he starts planting more soft kisses down it.

 “You can stop me at any time, okay?” Levi whispers, his hot breath tickling your neck. You nod, only wishing you had your voice to say his name and tell him you wanted him. As long as he was with you, you would always want him.

Levi’s hand that was teasing your waist makes its way back up to the lacy lining that adorns the edge of your nightdress, long fingers tugging down the thin fabric that holds your breasts in place. You’re glad Levi isn’t watching your face because you are multiple shades of embarrassment.

But Levi doesn’t say anything, instead he takes a breast in hand and massages it gently as his kisses start trailing down past your collarbone. Before you know it, his soft lips clamp around your already very sensitive nipple, eliciting a loud moan from you. You can’t help but dig your nails into the firm muscles of his back in response, dragging them down as Levi bites down gently. An exhale of hot air blows out of Levi’s mouth against your skin when you do that, a small grunt escaping with it.

You feel the absence of his lips immediately as his lips leave and the wetness left behind leaves your skin defenseless against the cool air. Levi softly kisses back up your sternum then pulls away, leaning forward on both hands that now sit on each side of your face. His tousled hair falls forward, creating shadows across his face as he stares down with that same hungry look, only this time it’s tinted with pure amazement.

“Still okay?” He whispers down to you.

You blink up at him and swallow hard. You were more than okay but as always, your words fail you. Instead, you nod and the hands that once dragged down his back are now trailing down his chest again. The feeling of his skin against yours sends electricity through your whole body, and you want more. You need more. Your hands flatten against right above his rapidly beating heart as you do your best to give him a look that conveys ‘more’.

“I’ve got you.” Those were the words he had muttered down to you the day before as you fell asleep in his arms on the beach. It wasn’t just cherishment that he held for you; it was deeper than that. Hange’s words from earlier flit through your mind, only briefly. How could you not have fully noticed until now?

He leans down and places his lips back on yours, soft and sweet. As your lips lock on to his, you feel his feather light touch trace back down to the elastic band of your underwear. But instead of teasing you like he had before, you feel his fingers dip under the cloth and further down to…

Any other thoughts racing through your mind cease to exist as his delicate fingers slide down your slick folds. You don’t mean to moan as loud as you do and fortunately Levi’s mouth muffles it for you. He hums in response to your reactions, smiling into the kiss.

Levi’s lips graze back down to just under your ear as his fingers rub small circles around your clit eliciting more moans from you. Your labored breaths fill the space as the white-hot heat from his touch reverberates throughout your whole body, tingling down to the tips of your toes. He whispers your name under a heavy breath, mutterings of how beautiful you are to him floating up to your ear. All sweet words mirror the moans you made.

You reach down to Levi’s hardened bulge that currently fights against the stretched fabric of his joggers. Your fingers close around him as much as they can through the thick cloth. Upon contact, Levi’s breath hitches. You give him a gentle squeeze resulting in a guttural groan that comes through his clenched teeth.

In response, his touch burns deep into your core as he carefully pushes a digit into your warm entrance, the palm of his hand applying pressure onto your swollen clit as he does. His movements are gentle as he pumps it in and out slowly, and you feel his finger curving up into a spot so good your toes curl. The euphoria turns into building heat, and you know what’s about to happen - but you wanted more. You wanted him now more than ever and this was not enough. More, more, more.

A soft whine comes out of you as your fingers tighten around him. A light huff tickles against your skin – Levi’s way of chuckling.

“Are you sure you’re ready?” He mumbles, his lips finding your earlobe and nipping at it gently. Reaching over with your other hand, you place your hand against his cheek and pull him up to you, planting your lips right onto his. It’s a hungry kiss, one conveying you were ready for him. You love him, you want him. You need him.

With that, Levi withdraws his hand and slides himself off you and the bed. You sit up and watch as he tugs down his pants along with his boxers. You knew what was coming and yet you couldn’t stop the blood rushing to your cheeks in shy embarrassment. You look away, staring at the ceiling as you hear Levi pick his clothes up including the shirt you threw on the bed, and then place them neatly on the dresser behind him. Your name quietly tumbles out his lips for your attention.

When you look up at him, you see him offering a hand to you. Your eyes flicker down for a mere second before going back up to Levi’s soft gaze. You feel as if you could faint on the spot.

Instead, you push yourself closer to the edge of the bed and take Levi’s hand. In a delicate flourish, you’re in his arms again and he pulls you in for another deep, lingering kiss. His fingers bunch at the bottom of your night dress and start lifting it up. You let him, pulling away enough so he can get the soft fabric up and over your head. He folds it and turns to place it next to his pants. When he circles back on you, he takes a moment to observe your half-naked self.

Being in your thin bathing suit was one thing, but to be standing there as the cool air conditioning drifted across your unprotected self was in a whole other universe. You shift your weight awkwardly and twist your arms together as you avert your gaze to the piled-on dresser.

Levi steps closer to you and takes both of your arms in a gentle grip and pulls them away from each other so that you’re exposed to him. You force your gaze on him despite how nervous you were to be in front of him. Levi’s dark eyes trail down your body but not in an ogling kind of way – he watches you with wonder.

“You’re just so beautiful. Every part of you.” He releases your arms, and his hands are back on you, sliding down your waist and landing on your hips. His fingers leave a trail of tingles. “I want you, all of you. If you’ll have me. Is that okay?” He whispers to you, pulling you by the hips into him. The length of his hardened self presses against your bare stomach as he does.

You sign that same simple word, ‘Mine’.

With that, Levi gently pushes you down into the bed with a hard kiss, leaning into you until your back is pressed against the mattress. He loops his fingers into the sides of your panties and tugs them down your legs, pulling away from you yet again to place them next to the rest of the discarded clothes. At that moment, he takes the time to rip a corner off the metallic package with his teeth, the foil discarded onto the dresser once done.

He grabs your hips again, this time pulling you flush to the edge of the bed as he stands at the foot of it. His hand makes its way to your thigh and his perfectly trimmed nails press into your soft skin as he holds you close. The tip of his cock teases your entrance and if you had a voice, you would have begged for it. As usual, you didn’t have to.

Levi leans down to you and kisses you slowly, teeth brushing against your swollen bottom lip. He places his other hand on the bed next to your head, using it to keep himself propped up. His hair hangs low as he hovers, already moist with sweat from the proximity and building body heat between the two of you. You use one hand to grip his forearm while the other hand slides up the back of his head and into his sweaty hair, fingers digging into his scalp. As the kiss deepens, so do his movements into you.

Levi slides himself in gently, using his hold on your thigh to control his speed. He lifts your leg up against his hip for a better angle but the sharp gasp from you stops Levi in his tracks. He stays there, feeling your warm walls hugging tightly around him.

He pulls away from the kiss and hovers over you again, looking down into your eyes with worry. It's been a while since you have been touched like this, let alone this intimate. You don’t think you’ve ever felt this loved. Levi makes this all so easy despite the anxious knot in your chest. You realize it isn’t just this that he makes easy, though. It’s everything around you. Every issue, every solution.

You imagine you’re looking at him just the same, a small smile etching into your flushed and hot face. Before he can ask again, you move your hand up and under his fingers that digs into the bed next to you. Lacing your fingers in with his, you squeeze his hand a few times.

A way to say you were okay and that you trusted him. And always would.

He looks down at you curiously but then realization dawns on him. His concern washes away to reveal his own version of adoration for you. It’s one of your favorite expressions on him by far.

In a breathless moan, Levi pushes himself all the way in. He presses his lips onto yours, muffling your moans that rise in volume as he slowly rocks into you. The hand he had on your thigh tightens as he pulls you into him more, quickening his pace slightly. The new angle hits a spot that almost puts you at the brink of finishing right then and there.

Levi lets go of your hand and moves his arm under your neck again, giving him the opportunity to trail his now sloppy kisses and teeth down it. Those razor-sharp teeth sink into your skin as one of his thrusts hit simultaneously. You bite into the back of your hand to keep yourself from wailing out and waking the rest of your roommates. The other hand that now sits against his sweaty chest digs into his skin, burying deeper with every thrust. It feels as if every part of your body burns like wildfire from his touch. Your name comes out in a groan this time, husky and deep.

“God, you’re fucking beautiful. You feel so good.” He buries his face into your collarbone as he moans your name again, shakily.

Levi thrusts soon become clumsy, feeling him slam into you inconsistently and with every hit comes more pressure against your clit. Heat builds into your core, the same as before. You’re pulling at his hair, in an attempt to warn him you were close. Throaty curses leave his lips as you both feel each other tense up.

In an instant, it’s like the world crumbles around you as you hit your limit. The walls surrounding Levi clenches as each wave of pleasure rolls through your whole system. Your orgasm sends Levi over the edge and in one deep thrust of his hips, you feel his body shudder as his moan almost turns into a whine. His teeth bite into you again as he rides through his own climax, filling up the condom within you.

Levi releases your leg and lets it fall gently against the bed before collapsing on top of you. He uses an arm to keep himself propped up enough to not suffocate you with his body weight. You focus on the heavy panting emanating from the both of you as you come down from your high. His heart beats in sync with your own against as he lays on top of you, digging his face into the crook of your neck.

You wrap your arms around his head and hold him close, despite the heat and sticky sweat between your bodies. Levi nuzzles his nose into sweaty soft skin and chuckles, low and hoarse. You both continue to lay like that until the breathing slows down to a normal pace. The next time he speaks, his voice is so soft and barely audible that you almost miss it.

“I love you too.”

☆ Taglist ➼ @averysmolbear @humanitys-strongest-bamf @youre-ackermine @spaghettiyarns @notgoodforlife @roseofdarknessblog @missamity @icansmellsouls @dkbktk420 @romantichomicide95 @janey-stempy @sckerman @secretmoneybearvoid @sujiroses @jadam724 @e-riellaaa @kamyru @highgoon69 @kingkonoha @nube55 @missyasma

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☾ Previous Chapter: June Part 3

☾ Next Chapter: June Part 5 [Final]

[spicerackofblorbos]

Chapter 8: June - Part Four [NSFW]

☾ Pairings ➼ Levi Ackerman x fem!mute!Reader (she/her pronouns), set in a modern semi-fictional world

☾ Summary ➼ Due to childhood trauma, you find yourself an adult without the ability to speak. After years of working on it, you have found ways to live without a voice. Now here in your late 20s, you are 5 months in getting used to a new town. On a fateful day in late November, you and your adopted sister visit a local bookstore-café, unaware of the friendships about to blossom. Throughout the months, one friendship in particular develops into something more.

☾ Content/Warnings ➼ fluff, slowburn, oblivious feelings, romance, angst, mention of minor character deaths, trauma, illness, adoption, mentions of fire, disabilities, alcohol use, very light nsfw mentions, references to child abuse, smoking and alcohol abuse mentions, domestic violence, light assault, uhhh- sex? idk how to tag this kind of stuff.

☾ Author's note ➼ Hehe, hi! I bet y'all never thought you'd see this tag OR BANNER on here ever. Tbh, I thought I would never see this tag or banner on any of my writings. But uhhhh- here we are! If it isn't obvious, this is my first time EVER writing smut. I've never even written self-indulgent smut before because it is REALLY HARD FOR ME TO DO. That's mainly why this chapter took so long (I'M SORRY); I wanted to make sure it was perfect. If you're a minor and read the smut I will find you and cut you! Hehe. Anyways. Again, I am so sorry this chapter took so long!! I've hit quite a rut in my life and I'm just really glad to have gotten it done in the first place. Let me know what y'all think!! ALSO CAN Y'ALL BELIEVE THERE'S ONLY ONE MORE PART LEFT HOLD ME I'M CRYING

☾ Word Count ➼ ~10.9k

The visual of Levi’s bewilderment haunts you just as much as the feeling of his lips on yours does. You’re not sure why you thought kissing your friend would be a good idea at all. Regret gnaws at you as you find yourself in a vicious cycle of rumination.

But it wasn’t all regret, was it? You wanted to kiss him. And you liked it.

Maybe it wasn’t regret at all, actually. What you really felt in your core was disappointment. At yourself for not thinking before acting and at him for not responding the way you inwardly hoped he would. If Levi’s cold shoulder this morning wasn’t proof enough, you don’t know what was.

“Love?” Hange’s voice cuts through the white noise reverberating through your skull. Slowly, you turn to where your sister currently sits with light green paste smeared all over their face. You blink the glassiness away and raise an eyebrow at them – which is a little hard to do as you have the same paste smudged on your face that is in the process of drying.

“Were you listening at all?” Concerned eyes bore into yours. You’d say you were thankful for the green tea facial that covers the dark circles under your lashes, but you knew Hange had noticed the moment they laid eyes on you today. They click their tongue and sit upright in your direction.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?”

‘What do you mean?’

“You look like you didn’t sleep a wink last night and you have been out of it all day. What are you thinking about?”

‘It’s nothing. Just had trouble sleeping.’

“You’re only restless when you have something on your mind.”

You stick your bottom lip out. In truth, you really did want to talk about it, but you weren’t sure what you wanted to say. Hange wasn’t the type to let things go when it came to you though, especially when you’re distressed. You’d need to say something now whether you liked it or not.

‘I like Levi.’ You sign quickly, averting your gaze from the piercing light-brown eyed stare burning holes in your face. You sigh softly and tuck your chin in the white fluffy robe that wraps around your body, ignoring the fact that you’re wiping the face mask off into the fabric as you do. It takes them a moment to realize you’re not planning on saying anything else.

“And that’s upsetting?” They laugh and relax back into the plush cushions. “That’s nothing new. I’ve known for a long time.”

Your eyes cut over to Hange again at that, wide in shock.

‘You knew? How? Since when?’

“I know when someone’s smitten. And you my darling? You are smitten like a kitten.” They roll their head in your direction as they speak, eyes sparkling. “Probably since February.”

Was it that early?

‘Can you be specific?’ You feel your face heat up from under the thick mask.

“If only you had a mirror. You should see the way you look at Levi. It’s so obvious, even Nanaba picked up on it.” They smirk as they twist in your direction, resting their chin on a hand that sits propped up on the armrest. A wide smile carved up and into their eyes.

“What happened last night anyways that made you discover this known secret?” Hange already knew, they had to have. Their demeanor changed from worried to curious in the blink of an eye.

‘Nothing.’ You sit back in a huff, closing your eyes.

You hear Hange sigh softly but doesn’t press for the next half hour. Your body sinks deeper into the plush massage chair as your head sits back on the head rest. Off to the side, you hear the soft babbling of the fountain piece that pairs wells with the gentle spa music that floats from the ceiling speakers down to your ears. Your brain wanders and you feel the heaviness that comes with sleep about to settle in.

“Excuse me?” A sudden voice startles you. You pop an eye open to see a spa employee in mint robes standing in front of the chairs you and Hange were relaxing in. “It’s time to move on to the hot pools, are you both ready?”

“Oh yes!! I’ve been looking forward to this part.” Hange exclaims, practically throwing themselves out of the chair.

.

The steamy mineral water stings your skin upon first contact. It wasn't uncomfortably hot, but it was close. It takes you a few seconds to get used to it and before you know it, you’re sinking low until your nose is submerged. Only your eyes and up show, like a crocodile floating as it hunts. You had put your hair up so that it wouldn’t get wet, but a few loose strands decide they want to get wet anyways as they float around your face.

Your sister, on the other hand, does not take the gentle approach. Before you know it, they’re running down the ramp ass naked. They throw themselves into the water when they get deep enough, throwing water straight in your face. Luckily, the pools are slotted out by appointments so it’s just the two of you in the small, enclosed room. They disappear for a second, submerged in the water leaving only ripples behind that float across the top.

“Are you going to tell me what happened now?” Hange’s low voice comes from right next to you, causing your heart to skip a beat. Despite the unnerving crawl of your skin, you side eye them and shake your head.

Their words bounce around in your skull. If even Nanaba picked it up, that would mean Levi knew too, right? Is that why he brushed you off this morning? This wouldn’t be the first time that he’s held things back from you, but you hoped that had changed in the last handful of months. A fleeting thought of going to him first zooms through your mind and disappears just as quickly.

“Did he kiss you?” Hange’s voice is so close that you feel the heat of their breath blowing right against your ear. You push back from instinct, swatting the water and subsequently splashing them in the face.

“Oh my, he definitely did. Look at your face!” Hange muses as they tread up closer to your face and there’s half a foot between noses. You shove at the tops of their shoulders and blow them a raspberry. They were ever persistent.

‘If you must know, he didn’t kiss me.’ You’re suddenly focused on the waterspout sitting opposite of you on the wall.

“Damn. I was rea-“

‘I kissed him.’

“Wha-?! You?!”

Without another word, you turn your back on their open-mouthed stare and head for the sitting ledge in the back corner. Steam rises off your warm skin as you do, merging easily with the rest of the hot air. Hange follows, mumbling under their breath as they process the news. When you twist to sit down, you’re face to face with Hange as they squat into the water across from you.

“I’m guessing by your reactions, it didn’t go well?”

‘He pulled away and gave me a weird look.’

“What did he say after?”

You don’t answer that, instead you slide into the water until you’re halfway submerged again. The hot water tingles against your raw face, making you wince until the uncomfortable feeling subsides. A few bubbles burst on the surface from your released huff.

“You didn’t give him a chance to, did you?” They raise an eyebrow at you. The amusement that tugged at their features melted away to reveal concern. You raise your hands out of the water, water droplets falling back in with little splashes.

‘He pulled away quickly and gave me a look that didn’t really scream “yay”. What was I supposed to do?’

“Sit and talk to him like the adult you are?” More bubbles pop at the surface as your eyes narrow at them.

‘What if he doesn’t want to talk? Or even see me? Or be my friend anymore?’

“Well, did he kiss back?”

‘I don’t know. I can’t remember. A lot was happening.’

“I imagine he did. He likes you too, you know.”

You roll your eyes at that. Maybe he did, maybe he didn’t. But that doesn’t change the shocked expression that he stared at you with before you ran off for the night. You feel the pressure of his lips on your mouth again and it makes your heart skip a beat. How confusing this all was.

“Want me to make him talk to you?” Hange says with a smirk on their lips.

‘Don’t even think about it. He’ll just kill both of us.’ You flick water in their direction at which they chuckle at it.

“Just give it some time, you’ll figure it out. But probably not too much time because this was a friend group before you both decided to catch feelings and I will not have this group break apart because you both want to be teenagers about it all.” They shrug their shoulders at that.

‘What happens if we never talk again?’

“Not allowed. I’ll lock you two in a room if I have to. Oh wait, maybe I should do that? Then you’ll either talk, fight, or kiss again.” They ramble on, tapping a forefinger on their chin as they think. Their eyes shoot over to yours, wide and full of excitement.

“If you both start dating, it’s for the long run by the way. Marriage or nothing. I can’t risk the friend group falling apart.” They joke. Part of you thinks there’s a bit of truth in their words but you let it slide. The prospect of marriage though? Was it your face heating up at the thought or the hot water?

You give them an exasperated look despite it all, offering them a thumbs down as well.

“I’m only half joking. You and him will figure something out eventually. Who knows, maybe it’s all a misunderstanding! You’re shy and he’s… well. Him. Maybe you just need to make the first move.” They offer you a small smile, their eyes softening again.

 That fleeting thought from earlier comes back. Again, Hange’s words held some truth as they always do. You already made the first move and that didn’t work out the way you planned. But If Levi didn’t know to come to you, maybe you would have to open that door for him, granted he doesn’t slam it in your face. You decide you’ll do what you can to pull him aside tonight.

.

Much to your dismay, the appointment ends too quickly. Fortunately, Hange kept up with their promise of taking you shopping since there were a few hours until it was time to meet up with the boys who were no doubt still out golfing. You laugh at the idea of Levi standing on the greens with a signature bored expression, but then you remember you were supposed to be anxious. You don’t know what you’re going to say to him.

After a while, you forget your worries for a time. Hange finds a really nice pantsuit that frames their tall body well. You found a simple sundress that frills out on your waist in a color that your sister exclaimed matched your eyes so well. And it was nice being able to chat, that feeling of dread that coursed through your veins like ice forgotten.

That is until you’re standing in front of Levi with your hands twisting in each other – a nervous habit you picked up just recently. The fabric of your dress feels like it’s digging into your skin as you stand awkwardly, your heart feeling as if it might explode. He doesn’t even look your way, eyes glued to his phone as he mindlessly scrolls. The idea of getting him to talk to you falters.

He's wearing a slate gray dress shirt in a complementary shade for his eyes. The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows neatly. The rest of his outfit is clean yet casual and perfect for the place Erwin had reserved. Some of his hair falls in his face as he continues to look down, ignoring the fact that Erwin was calling everyone to attention.

“Are we ready to go? The taxi is here.” Erwin gives you and Hange a once over when he looks up from his phone. “Wow, you both look like you had a good day - practically glowing.” He gives you a beaming smile and you force one back in return, feeling the quivering of your muscles as your lips pull back.

Levi glances up finally and his dark eyes scan the room. When they land on you, they linger for a second longer before he looks away as he pulls himself up from the barstool. You did not miss the subtle surprise that flashed across his face as well as his eyes flickering down to the sakura necklace you put back on for this evening. You had taken it off the last few days to keep it safe, something you were not used to doing before. You almost sighed in relief when you felt the familiar and subtle weight around your neck again.

The car ride to the restaurant was fortunately short but to you, it was agonizing the whole time. Erwin opted for the front seat to help direct the driver so that left you, Hange, and Levi in the back. Your sister forced you in the middle and they claimed it was for safety reasons but you knew better.

Your almost bare thigh sits against Levi’s after you all piled in, snug as can be. You pull your arms together so that you’re not squishing into Levi any more than you have to. He’s facing the window, arm propped up and leaning against it as he looks out. You spend the whole ride rehearsing what you wanted to say to him.

When the taxi parks in front of the restaurant, you take a deep breath. It was now or never, you tell yourself. You force yourself out of Levi’s side after he slides out, having to push the door as he almost shuts it in your face.

You’re able to reach far enough to grab his wrist to make him stop and he spins on you quickly, eyes flaring with annoyance – barely softening when he notices it’s you. It takes all of your strength to keep your fingers latched on to him despite the look on his face. After a moment, he helps you out of the car with that same hand, making sure to keep you steady as you almost trip on the curb.

‘Can we talk?’  You sign quickly.

He considers you, eyebrows pinched the way they do.

“Tch. We don’t have time, Hange and Erwin are waiting for us.” He finally grumbles back, eyes aimed at the retreating figures now walking through the double glass doors. He turns on his heels and leaps up the stairs, leaving you and your hurt feelings at the bottom.

So much for trying.

Even in your sour mood, you still appreciate how beautiful the restaurant is from the outside. It’s very high end with a large crystal chandelier peeping out of the tall windows that make up the majority of the front wall. The railings of both sides of the stairs are adorned with growing vines and colorful flowers. A simple sign in neat cursive hangs above the front doors, reading ‘La Crevette’. You raise an eyebrow at that but say nothing before making your way into the air-conditioned interior alone.

The inside is even better. The gold inlay that decorates the white marble adds a delicate and elegant tone. On the walls sit ceiling high mirrors that you can’t help but stare in as your eyes scan the new surroundings. You catch Levi’s eyes in the reflection before he turns away to follow the hostess who is now leading you all to your designated table.

To say that the atmosphere at the table was so tense you could cut it with a knife would have been an understatement. You find yourself sitting across from Levi - at least 5 feet away. The chill emanating from him makes you shiver and you wish you had brought a jacket with you.

Orders were already taken so now you sit in silence as Hange and Erwin compare the activities they both did today. Levi’s fingers drum against the clothed table as he stares out the window to the left of you. It looks out into the ocean, the setting sun painting the sky, those beautiful oranges and pinks that you liked so much. You fidget with the napkin that sits across your lap in tight fingers as you stare. Erwin calls your name.

“So how did you like the spa? Did they take care of you as well?” His clear eyes stare into yours with interest.

You smile politely and nod, signing along saying ‘They did, it was quite luxurious. Thank you for setting it up for us.’ He smiles back and chuckles.

“Hange said the baths were really nice. We might have to stop by one before we leave town, huh Levi?” The attention is now diverted onto a very bored looking Levi. He only hums in response, shrugging his shoulders as well.

‘You look like you got quite a bit of sun today.’ Your smile wavers as you eye him. There’s a soft flush across his cheeks as well as his nose and forehead. His gaze flickers up to you and you think you spot conflict in his steely eyes.

“I forgot a hat.” He says back, his curt tone a little too sharp for you. You pretend to not hear it. Your eyes fall onto your water glass after that, Hange and Erwin going back to talking about the other things they did today.

By the time dinner comes and disappears, the tense atmosphere barely stagnates. You sense Erwin and Hange can feel it too, but they don’t say anything. The only things you’re given are looks, ranging from curiosity to what you imagine is understanding. You don’t blame them though, this is really something that you and Levi need to hash out. Anxiety gnaws at your chest as you continue to pull on the thin fabric of your dress.

Eventually, the waiter comes with the check and hands it over to Erwin per his request - you all knew better than to argue with him about it. When Erwin hands the black book back with his card of choice, the waiter takes it and leans over to start gathering dishes out of the way. As he reaches from behind you, the feeling of his sleeve brushing against the side of your neck makes you stiffen up. When he pulls away, a small pop resonates by your ear.

The lack of weight around your neck is instantaneous. You watch in silent horror at your favorite necklace plopping into your lap softly. Everything goes quiet as you pick up the chain in shaky fingers, almost losing the sakura pendant as you do. The sight of the delicate golden chain now broken in a place that would not be an easy fix makes you feel like someone is stepping on your chest - crushing you.

You feel hot tears rolling down your face and you blink hard a few times. You’re in too much shock to make a sound. The waiter’s incessant apologies come muffled as realization dawns on you. You should have kept it tucked away and safe. You shouldn’t have kissed Levi. This necklace is you and Levi right now. Broken necklace, broken friendship. Your fault. All of it is your fault.

Placing it on the table gently, you force another sweet smile, one that closes your eyes and you feel more tears pressing out as you do.

‘I’m going to get some air.’ You sign.

Before anyone can protest, you push your chair out and away from the table, bumping into the still apologizing waiter. You sign a few hard apologies yourself before running down the ramp to the host station and out the front doors. Your feet take off down the street in the direction of the condo, tears streaming still but not a single sob escaping your lips.

A hand closes around your wrist, the force of your speed almost knocking you back as someone holds you still. The firm grip is telling enough that you don’t have to look around to see who it is, but you do anyway. Levi is out of breath from running after you, chest heaving and hair windswept.

“Where are you going?” His voice is stern and laced with annoyance.

You only shake your head in response, still feeling the tears rolling down your cheeks and off your chin. You have no energy left for a fake smile and his subtle annoyance feels like another knife in the chest. You’re not sure if it was the exhaustion, the necklace, or Levi, but you feel inexplicable rage boiling over. Ripping your arm out of his grip, you start signing roughly.

‘Why are you here?’

“I’m worried about you. You’re upset.” His steely eyes cut into yours, narrowing.

‘You could have fooled me. It seems to me you want nothing to do with me, ignoring me the way you have all day. What do you want?’ He flinches at that, surprised by your less than normal aggression.  

“I-I’m sorry. I just don’t…” He runs his fingers through his hair, pushing it back and out of his face. He stumbles through his words, something you’ve never seen him do. But you can’t think about that right now, your patience is thinning and you can’t face him if he still refuses to acknowledge the hurt he’s dealt to you even if he didn’t realize it.

‘‘I can’t fix it.’ You sign shakily, fingers fumbling over each other.

“I’ll take a look at it. And if it’s not fixable, I can just get you a new one.” It dawns on you that Levi doesn’t understand, and you’re not certain if he ever did.

‘I’m not talking about the necklace, Levi!’ You’re in the middle of the sidewalk slamming your hands together as people rush past you two. As always, it feels as if it’s just you and Levi and everyone else are blurring streaks in the background. This time, it doesn’t feel as pleasant.

He doesn’t say anything back, choosing to stare with his lips parted as if he wanted to.

‘Why won’t you just talk to me? I thought you trusted me with yourself.’

“I do. Trust you, I mean.”

‘Then talk to me!’

“It’s not that simple.”

‘Right.’ You don’t give Levi a chance to refute as you turn around swiftly and start off in the direction of the condo, head hung low as you do your best to sniffle quietly. Fortunately, no one looks your way as you shuffle down the sidewalk.

Different layers of pain pile on your shoulders and you’re not sure how you’re going to get out from under them. The worst of them all seems to seep into your heart in a heavy way, weighing you down so much that you’re surprised you make it back to the elevator of the condo without collapsing. When the doors shut in front of you, you allow yourself to finally fall apart like you’ve been wanting to all day, sobs racking from deep within your chest.

.

The moment you get into the bedroom, you slam the door behind you and prep for bed. The lingering sunlight filters through the room, painting the room gold. You didn’t care what time it was, you just knew you were ready to pass out from the day.

As you loosen your hair from the multitude of pins sticking in it, you stare at yourself in the bathroom mirror. Your eyes are bloodshot, the skin around them puffy. At least you don’t have to do much since your tears broke down most of the makeup already, only needing the gentle swipe of a cloth. The moment after you slip on your sleepwear, you toss yourself into the soft sheets of your temporary bed and curl in on yourself.

The hurt from last night comes back tenfold. Only this time, frustration burns under your skin. Before you know it, nightmares come to you in the form of dark slate grays.

The next time your eyes open, they’re met with darkness. You’re not sure if the moon decided to stay away or if the clouds had rolled in during your slumber, but regardless your vision is pitch-black. Soft snoring to your right indicates that Hange had made it back and is currently deep in sleep. You vaguely recall hearing them calling out to you when they came back shortly after you fell asleep.

Rolling onto your back, you are greeted with the dim red light from the alarm clock illuminating the ceiling. You imagine it’s quite late in the night considering how refreshed you feel despite the lingering melancholy from dinner.

With a huff, you sit up and swing your legs off the bed. Your bare feet hit the cool, hard floor and you make quick yet quiet work of sneaking out of the bedroom. You know Hange could sleep through anything, but you did not want to suffer on the off-chance they woke up – you were not prepared to face them right now.

After closing the bedroom door, you pad over to the fridge and pull it open. The only drink options were a couple of beers and a handful of caffeinated sodas. You wish you had a cup of Levi’s tea in your hands, but instead you opt for water from the filtered pitcher. After taking a tentative sip of it, you decide that going back to sleep was not an option for you. You kick yourself for potentially screwing up your sleep schedule for the rest of the trip but that was a problem for future you.

With a cold glass in hand, you step over to the plush couch and sink into it. Grabbing the remote in the other, you turn it on and flinch as you’re met with a loud commercial about an action movie coming out soon. Quickly, you turn the volume down to one and sit still as you listen for any sounds of your roommates – luckily it stays silent. You sigh softly.

You pull over a blanket from the other side of the couch and tuck yourself in. You let your mind wander for a bit as a random movie starts to play, the low volume buzzing in the background. Thankfully, your thoughts stay away from Levi. That is, until you watch as a teacup is placed down on the glass coffee table in front of you with a clink as well as delicate fingers pulling away from the handle.

Blinking the glassiness from your vision, your eyes trail up the muscular arm that belongs to a weary-eyed Levi. His gaze shifts away quickly as he lowers himself on the other side of the couch as far as possible from you. He lifts his own teacup to his lips and takes a small sip, eyes forward on the movie ahead.

He doesn’t say anything to you, which you’re not certain if you should be grateful for, or annoyed. You were thinking about wanting some of his tea earlier, but now that it’s here, you’re torn between indulging him or not. As your eyes narrow on the steam that rises off the amber liquid, Levi pipes up finally.

“I didn’t poison it, if that’s what you’re wondering.” He mumbles. You flicker your eyes over to him, but his gaze stays glued to the TV in front.

You let out a soft huff and reach for it, taking the handle in between two fingers and pulling it up to your mouth. Upon the first sip, you withhold a sigh of content. Levi always knew how to make a mean cup of tea. But you won’t say that to him right now. You’re still fuming, tea or no. With that thought, you down it the best you can despite the scorching heat of it as it burns itself down to the pit of your stomach.

You stand when you’ve finished, placing the cup back onto the saucer and then turning around to fold the blanket back up. The space is turning tense by the second and you don’t want to deal with this right now. After placing the blanket on the armrest, you reach down to grab your tea set as well as Levi’s, but his hand stops you as his fingers close around your wrist once again.

“Stay. Please? I want to talk.” You side eye him, noting the nervousness in his eyes. If it wasn’t for that, you would have stormed off. For once, it seems Levi is ready to talk, and whether you were ready or not, you needed to listen.

Setting the saucers back down, you sit on the other side of the couch again, facing him with your arms placed over your chest. Only now do you realize you’re still in a nightgown that barely covers your ass and no bra. Trying to be natural about it, you grab the pillow that sits in the middle of the cushion and pull it to your chest to cover up.

“Are you having trouble sleeping?” He rubs the back of his neck as he watches you. His anxiety looks like it’s about to overflow.

‘Is that really all you want to talk about? Small talk?’

“No! Of course not.” He grumbles. He mirrors you, folding his arms across his chest. He’s getting defensive again.

‘Then what do you want?’ You click your tongue in annoyance.

“I don’t know wha-…” He falters.

‘You do know what you want. You just won’t say it.’

“It’s not that simple.”

‘But you know, don’t you? What is holding you back? What is making this so difficult for you to talk to me?’ Your signs come out more forceful than you meant.

His arms fall into his lap as his focus darts to the tv off to the side. You eye him warily and purse your lips while you wait for him to continue, which he does after sighing heavily in frustration.

“I’m afraid, okay? I’ve never felt so conflicted about stuff like this before. But I’m sorry I’ve been ignoring you all day. It wasn’t my intention to hurt you, I just didn’t know how to face you. Or what to even say to you.”

“I’m sorry.” he says quietly, shifting his gaze back to your face.

The look in his eyes is chock-full of anxiety and panic. Your fingers are flying before you can stop them. The strong walls of anger you had put up for protection start crumbling away, making room for disappointment as well as regret for making him feel this way.

‘I shouldn’t have kissed you, I’m sorry to have caused you so much strife.’ You bite the inside of your cheek.

Levi scoffs at that, his gray eyes cutting over to you, narrowing. He doesn’t say anything right away, instead using this moment to shift on the couch until his knees are against his chest as he faces you a couple feet away. 

“Don’t be sorry.” He whispers finally, dark eyes piercing into yours.

‘You’ve been brushing me off all day. It’s because I kissed you when I shouldn’t have. You hate me. And you regret it even now.’ You feel the tears from earlier start to well again, but you refuse to let them spill in front of Levi.

“Why would I hate you?”

‘I just feel like I ruined our friendship with my actions, and you wouldn’t talk to me about it so I also feel like you want nothing to do with me because of it.’

“I don’t hate you.” He mutters, eyes shifting away before jumping back to yours. “I could never hate you.”

‘Then why won't you talk to me?’

Levi gets up abruptly and starts pacing back and forth in front of you with his shaky fingers raking through his hair. The anxiety radiating off him is palpable.

“It’s hard to put into words.” Levi says simply. A scowl appears as he pinches the bridge of his nose between fingers. He continues to pace, eyes half closed as he mutters to himself. You hear something about ‘not being used to this’ and ‘being blindsided’.

You lean forward and grab his pant leg with tight fingers. His sweatpants’ waistband slides down his hip from the sudden force of your grip, immobilizing him unless he wanted them pulled down any further. His steely eyes snap to your troubled expression and he softens immediately, hands dropping to his sides.

‘Just try.’ You give him your best pleading eyes, bottom lip jutting out as far as it can go.

Levi side eyes you as you hold him in place, his lips pinched into a thin line. He opens his mouth as he attempts to figure out what he wanted to say next. It takes a few tries but eventually, he settles on the last thing you’d expected him to say. It’s like his naturally stoic demeanor melts into something completely unrecognizable – not like you were complaining.

“When you kissed me, it was like I understood everything and nothing at the same time. I was so confused.” Levi mutters under his breath, sitting back down on the couch but this time on the cushion closest to you. His thigh brushes up against your knees, sending tingles up your spine from the sudden contact.

“Ever since you’ve stumbled back into my life, I couldn’t understand why you were always on my mind. I think I do now.” He continues without missing a beat. “I think I’ve always cherished you in some capacity, just in different stages.” Levi places his face in his hands that were propped up against his knees. After a few seconds, his head turns to you with a familiar expression. The way he looks at you reminds you of the little boy next door all those years ago.

“Leeeeeviii!!” You yell as you bound down the front steps without a care in the world. Your brother and Levi currently sit on the lawn, messing around with their action figures who were currently in a heated battle. In your excitement, you completely miss the bottom step and stumble down onto your hands and knees, rough concrete digging into your skin.

The wails that come out of you are loud enough that the dogs across the street start barking. A pair of hands are on you in an instant, helping to pull you up and onto the bottom step that had caused you so much trouble in the first place.

“I’ll go get some bandages.” Your brother says in a panic, running up the stairs and back in the house you had just come out of.

“You’re okay, it’s just some scratches.” You look up through blurry lashes to see Levi staring at your bleeding knees. You’re not going to bleed out, but crimson is trickling down your legs and it’s enough to make you cry harder.

Levi takes your little hands into his slightly bigger ones and inspects them. He brushes off the small gravel that had embedded itself into your skin, his tongue stuck between his teeth in focus. You observe him as best as you can despite the salty water obscuring your vision. Levi’s eyelashes flutter across his cheeks as he turns your hands over to get a better look at them.

“Not cut, just a little dirty. Nothing that can’t be fixed.” He says softly to you. Blue-gray eyes look up into yours and you realize you stopped crying. He offers you a lopsided grin as he squeezes your hand a few times.

“See? Not broken. You’ll be okay.”

He was always so calm with you. You shoot him a toothy grin while squeezing his hand back a few times. So calm. So safe.

“Levi, I’m never letting you go.”

You laugh at the sudden memory that flashes before your vision. You’re grateful for Levi in many ways, despite the fact he made you mad sometimes. Memory recovery was one of the reasons why. Levi’s eyes widen at your sudden outburst.

“What?”

‘Remember when I ate shit outside of my house when we were kids?’

He hesitates as he thinks.

“Which time?” His lips twitch at his comment and you realize it probably wasn’t the first time you had fallen. You appreciate your resilient nature as a kid, taking note of the small scars that probably decorated your knees even to this day.

‘Levi, I think there’s always been a part of me that’s always felt safe with you. And, I think having a future without you in it, no matter what that means, isn’t something I want to see. So, I think that’s why I was so torn up about this. The idea of you leaving just tears me apart.’

Levi sits up at your confession, staring at you in curiosity. There’s a new look of assurance on his face as he eyes you. A pink flush creeps up his neck and into his cheekbones as he focuses back on the colorful screen ahead.

“I don’t have any plans to leave.” He mutters.

There’s more silence, only cut up by the voices on the television and distant crashing of waves from down below. You watch him closely as he blinks slowly, propping his chin up in both arms that sit against his thighs. Before you can sign again, he speaks softly.

“I don’t regret it.” He side-eyes you, as if he were afraid to face you for such a statement.

‘What do you mean you don’t regret it?’

“It means I don’t regret that you kissed me.”

‘Did you want me to kiss you?’

Silence.

“You should probably get some sleep. I’m sure tomorrow will be just as exhausting. We can talk more then.” Levi says quietly, changing the subject.

You narrow your eyes at him, annoyed he would close up after so much progress. But then a yawn so big escapes your mouth and you shove your face into the pillow you were still hugging until it’s done. When you look back up, you see Levi watching you in amusement before his expression changes into indifference quickly. Maybe this would be best saved for the next day when you were both awake.

‘What about you?’

“I don’t sleep much, you know that. I’ll be okay.” He shrugs his shoulders as he gets up from the sofa. He reaches for the remote and turns off the tv then carefully places it back on the coffee table. Then he turns around to offer you a hand which you take, still hugging the pillow to your chest. He raises an eyebrow at that but turns on his heel to head to his bedroom. With a soft sigh, you place the pillow back and follow him down the hallway to your room.

The need to figure out what was going through his mind was strong, but your exhaustion hits harder. As you pass the kitchen, you note the time was about to hit five in the morning which means you have been up for a while. Despite the amount of sleep from earlier, you feel your body giving in to the heaviness of fatigue – no doubt a consequence of having such a taxing day.

You watch as Levi stops outside of his door, right hand gripping the doorknob in white knuckles. As you pass him, you reach over and place your hand on top of his. When his eyes fall on you, you offer a small smile.

 ‘What’s wrong?’

Before you can pull away, Levi says your name and stares over at you with longing.

“What am I to you?”

With shaky hands, you sign back, ‘What would you like to be, Levi?’ Adrenaline courses through your veins like lava at the sudden question.

“Yours.” It’s so soft, barely audible. And yet so full of conviction.

Levi looks down at your lips quickly before jumping back up to your eyes. In a swift motion, he releases the doorknob and grabs your hand, pulling you in closer to him with sudden force. His gaze is as firm as the grip on you, holding you in place. When he speaks again, his words come out measured.

“You’re right, I do know what I want. My answer is yours. I want to be yours.”

Your eyes widen at the sudden confession, and you stare at him with your lips parted in surprise. As if time slowed down, just like in the elevator, Levi tilts your chin in his direction - pinching it gently between his thumb and index finger. He leans in slowly, his eyes staring into yours as he wavers inches away. Levi is so close to you that his hot breath hits your face, and you smell hints of his black tea and traces of pine.

“And I want to kiss you. Is that okay?” You nod, dazed by his proximity.

Carefully, his mouth meets yours and you instantly distinguish the difference between this kiss and the one in the elevator. This one is hesitant, nervous. But traces of ravenous hunger linger as an aftertaste.

That same heat blazes from your face all the way down to your toes. Levi’s fingers move from your chin to right under your jaw, tilting your face into him even more. After a moment, he breaks away granting you a moment to catch your breath. His face is still inches from yours, gray eyes fluttering closed as your forehead rests against his. Your name tumbles out of his mouth, almost like a beg.

“I need to know.” He pulls away from you, the air around you instantly turning cold from the lack of his presence. “Will you let me?”

‘Let you what, Levi?’ You know what he wants, but you just want to hear him say it again. And again and again and again.

“Let me be yours.” Your smile would have blinded the whole world.

‘Mine.’

He leans in again, cupping your whole face in his calloused hand and locking his lips back over yours. The hunger intensifies just like the buzzing throughout your whole system. You open your mouth slightly to let his tongue in to explore and it does, eliciting a quiet moan from you. You swear you hear Levi growl in response. Oh, how touch starved you two were for each other.

As if in sync, Levi opens the bedroom door and you both stumble still lip-locked into his room. He pushes you up against the door, shutting it behind you. If you weren’t so lost in the kiss, you would have been worried by how loud the slam must have been. Levi presses up against you more, sandwiching you between the heat of his body and the cool wooden door behind you. You already feel how hard he is under his sweatpants.

You’re more inexperienced than most so there’s hesitation in your kiss – something Levi picks up on quickly. He pulls away but leaves his hands on your face as he looks at you with apprehension.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to tonight.” He whispers to you. His voice is as sincere as it always is, albeit husky. You place a hand over his that sits on your face, leaning into it as you do before signing back.

‘I want all of you.’ You offer a loving smile, wide and full of adoration for the man in front of you. Levi’s eyes bounce back and forth between yours as if searching for something. He finds nothing but pure truth.

Levi’s lips crash back onto yours, careful but just as heated. As his marred lips leave and make their way down your neck, one of your hands slides up his chest to his undercut until your fingers find what they were looking for, tangling in his raven hair.

The moment you feel his teeth pinch your soft skin, another moan comes out louder than before. Having him pressed up against you like that, the outline of his cock pressing into your stomach, you start to feel your patience slowly unraveling.

Your nervousness flies out the window. This was Levi, you had no reason to worry. Levi is safe to you. He would take care of you as he always does. And you would do the same. The thought makes you smile up at the ceiling. Before you know it, your hands push against Levi’s soft skin, and he pulls away quickly. Worry pools into his dark eyes as he watches you carefully.

“Is everything okay?” He murmurs hoarsely.

Instead of signing back, you force him to step back towards the bed with your palm pressed against his chest until the back of his knees hit the edges of the mattress. The force alone makes him lurch back so that he falls back onto the soft duvet, catching himself on his hands so that he’s sitting up.

In a swift motion, you straddle his hips, and your lips find solace on his mouth yet again. You don’t hesitate to push your tongue through to taste him again, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing yourself into him more.

You don’t mean to, but you find your hips grinding on to him, the only barriers between your already soaked self and Levi being the clothes you wish were off. The pressure and friction against your very sensitive core make you pull away for breath. Levi’s soft grunts are music to your ears and his lips start trailing back down your neck, his teeth finding purchase in your soft skin yet again. His fingers slide up your back, pulling your night dress up with it.

Then a groan comes out of his clenched teeth, full of frustration.

Levi pulls away again and stares up at you with heavy-lidded eyes full of impatience. You note that pink flush of his that you love so much, deeper in color and painting across his cheeks. As you stare down at him, you come to love this version of Levi and you want nothing but to see his face contort at the way you grinded into him. But he places his hands on your hips to keep you still, much to your dismay. You watch him carefully as he speaks, his voice husky.

“I-uh. I want this, I do. But we need to be safe. And I didn’t bri-“ He averts his gaze, staring at the corner of the bed. You were so lost in the exhilaration of it all, you didn’t think about it. A thick appreciation for him crashes over you because his cautious nature, even if it did slightly kill the heat of the moment.

‘Give me a second. I can help with this. Stay here.’ You give him a chaste kiss before sliding off his lap and out the door quickly. You tiptoe your way back to your room, making sure the only sounds that can be heard are the clock ticking on the wall and the muffled continuous crashing of waves just outside.

When you slip into your room, you see Hange flat on their back with their hair tousled everywhere. Soft snores escape their lips, a telltale sign they are out like a light. Hange wasn’t promiscuous in the slightest, but they weren’t closed minded either. And with that, it meant they stayed prepared.

You creep over to their unorganized suitcase where clothes were strewn all over the place. Reaching into the top compartment, your fingers feel the sharp edges of a foil package and slip it out. You blush to yourself as you think back to Levi’s outline as you make sure it’s the right size.

A snort from behind you makes you freeze in place, breath hitched as you sit crouching in silence. A moment passes. Another minute. Hange’s snores fill the room again and you let loose your held breath, shoulders sagging. You’re sure this conversation would come up again later, but you didn’t want to deal with it right now. Especially with Levi waiting for you.

It takes you next to no time to slip out of your room and back into Levi’s, closing his door with a soft click. Turning around, you show him the condom in between pinched fingers and smile widely to Levi who was still sitting on the edge of the bed for you.

“Did you come prepared?” He raises an eyebrow at the glittering foil.

‘No, but Hange do-‘

“I don’t need to know any more.” Levi blurts out, hands up in defeat. A silent laugh shakes your shoulders as you make your way back over to him. You fling the package onto the bed before straddling him again, noting how hard he was underneath you still.

‘Now where were we?’ You sign with a small smile. Levi smirks and places his hand against your cheek, his thumb tracing your bottom lip gently. You playfully nip at him, and he huffs in amusement.

“You’re breathtakingly beautiful, you know that?” He asks you softly before pulling your face into his and locking his lips on yours. It’s a saccharine-laced kiss. His hands find your hips again, lowering until they are fully on your ass, and they squeeze. A squeak escapes into his mouth as he does, and it just makes his grip on your skin tighter.

Pulling away, you grip his t-shirt from the bottom and start tugging it up. Levi leans back so you can pull it up and over his head, discarding it on the bed next to him. Your hands trail down his toned chest and abs, his skin burning under your touch. It’s soft despite the hard muscles underneath them. Your mouth finds his again as your hands explore, not hesitating to slip your tongue into Levi’s already parted lips.

Your hands find their way back in his hair, fingers entwining through the fine strands. You can’t help it – you tug gently, and a small whine comes out of his pouty lips as he’s pulled away from your mouth. Something inside you burns and again you feel your razor thin patience cutting at you. 

As if Levi reads your mind, he wraps an arm around your back while leaving his other hand cupping your ass and stands up effortlessly. In a mere moment, he turns around with you in his strong arms and then gently tosses you on to the bed. A soft laugh escapes you as you land. Everything around you smells like Levi.  

Levi stands at the foot of the bed and stares down at you ravenously, a look you don’t think you’ve ever seen on anyone outside of the movies on your television screen. You sit up on your elbows and watch as he gets on the bed and slowly makes his way on top of you. He meets your lips with his own as his body hovers over yours, his fingers lightly trailing up your arms resulting in goosebumps following in their wake.

Slowly, you lie back down flush to the mattress, his knees digging into the sheets on either side of your thighs. Levi’s lips start to slide down your jaw which gives you some space to breathe but your breaths quickly turn into soft whimpers as his fingers lightly trace across your lower abdomen. His other hand snakes around the back of your neck, supporting it as he starts planting more soft kisses down it.

 “You can stop me at any time, okay?” Levi whispers, his hot breath tickling your neck. You nod, only wishing you had your voice to say his name and tell him you wanted him. As long as he was with you, you would always want him.

Levi’s hand that was teasing your waist makes its way back up to the lacy lining that adorns the edge of your nightdress, long fingers tugging down the thin fabric that holds your breasts in place. You’re glad Levi isn’t watching your face because you are multiple shades of embarrassment.

But Levi doesn’t say anything, instead he takes a breast in hand and massages it gently as his kisses start trailing down past your collarbone. Before you know it, his soft lips clamp around your already very sensitive nipple, eliciting a loud moan from you. You can’t help but dig your nails into the firm muscles of his back in response, dragging them down as Levi bites down gently. An exhale of hot air blows out of Levi’s mouth against your skin when you do that, a small grunt escaping with it.

You feel the absence of his lips immediately as his lips leave and the wetness left behind leaves your skin defenseless against the cool air. Levi softly kisses back up your sternum then pulls away, leaning forward on both hands that now sit on each side of your face. His tousled hair falls forward, creating shadows across his face as he stares down with that same hungry look, only this time it’s tinted with pure amazement.

“Still okay?” He whispers down to you.

You blink up at him and swallow hard. You were more than okay but as always, your words fail you. Instead, you nod and the hands that once dragged down his back are now trailing down his chest again. The feeling of his skin against yours sends electricity through your whole body, and you want more. You need more. Your hands flatten against right above his rapidly beating heart as you do your best to give him a look that conveys ‘more’.

“I’ve got you.” Those were the words he had muttered down to you the day before as you fell asleep in his arms on the beach. It wasn’t just cherishment that he held for you; it was deeper than that. Hange’s words from earlier flit through your mind, only briefly. How could you not have fully noticed until now?

He leans down and places his lips back on yours, soft and sweet. As your lips lock on to his, you feel his feather light touch trace back down to the elastic band of your underwear. But instead of teasing you like he had before, you feel his fingers dip under the cloth and further down to…

Any other thoughts racing through your mind cease to exist as his delicate fingers slide down your slick folds. You don’t mean to moan as loud as you do and fortunately Levi’s mouth muffles it for you. He hums in response to your reactions, smiling into the kiss.

Levi’s lips graze back down to just under your ear as his fingers rub small circles around your clit eliciting more moans from you. Your labored breaths fill the space as the white-hot heat from his touch reverberates throughout your whole body, tingling down to the tips of your toes. He whispers your name under a heavy breath, mutterings of how beautiful you are to him floating up to your ear. All sweet words mirror the moans you made.

You reach down to Levi’s hardened bulge that currently fights against the stretched fabric of his joggers. Your fingers close around him as much as they can through the thick cloth. Upon contact, Levi’s breath hitches. You give him a gentle squeeze resulting in a guttural groan that comes through his clenched teeth.

In response, his touch burns deep into your core as he carefully pushes a digit into your warm entrance, the palm of his hand applying pressure onto your swollen clit as he does. His movements are gentle as he pumps it in and out slowly, and you feel his finger curving up into a spot so good your toes curl. The euphoria turns into building heat, and you know what’s about to happen - but you wanted more. You wanted him now more than ever and this was not enough. More, more, more.

A soft whine comes out of you as your fingers tighten around him. A light huff tickles against your skin – Levi’s way of chuckling.

“Are you sure you’re ready?” He mumbles, his lips finding your earlobe and nipping at it gently. Reaching over with your other hand, you place your hand against his cheek and pull him up to you, planting your lips right onto his. It’s a hungry kiss, one conveying you were ready for him. You love him, you want him. You need him.

With that, Levi withdraws his hand and slides himself off you and the bed. You sit up and watch as he tugs down his pants along with his boxers. You knew what was coming and yet you couldn’t stop the blood rushing to your cheeks in shy embarrassment. You look away, staring at the ceiling as you hear Levi pick his clothes up including the shirt you threw on the bed, and then place them neatly on the dresser behind him. Your name quietly tumbles out his lips for your attention.

When you look up at him, you see him offering a hand to you. Your eyes flicker down for a mere second before going back up to Levi’s soft gaze. You feel as if you could faint on the spot.

Instead, you push yourself closer to the edge of the bed and take Levi’s hand. In a delicate flourish, you’re in his arms again and he pulls you in for another deep, lingering kiss. His fingers bunch at the bottom of your night dress and start lifting it up. You let him, pulling away enough so he can get the soft fabric up and over your head. He folds it and turns to place it next to his pants. When he circles back on you, he takes a moment to observe your half-naked self.

Being in your thin bathing suit was one thing, but to be standing there as the cool air conditioning drifted across your unprotected self was in a whole other universe. You shift your weight awkwardly and twist your arms together as you avert your gaze to the piled-on dresser.

Levi steps closer to you and takes both of your arms in a gentle grip and pulls them away from each other so that you’re exposed to him. You force your gaze on him despite how nervous you were to be in front of him. Levi’s dark eyes trail down your body but not in an ogling kind of way – he watches you with wonder.

“You’re just so beautiful. Every part of you.” He releases your arms, and his hands are back on you, sliding down your waist and landing on your hips. His fingers leave a trail of tingles. “I want you, all of you. If you’ll have me. Is that okay?” He whispers to you, pulling you by the hips into him. The length of his hardened self presses against your bare stomach as he does.

You sign that same simple word, ‘Mine’.

With that, Levi gently pushes you down into the bed with a hard kiss, leaning into you until your back is pressed against the mattress. He loops his fingers into the sides of your panties and tugs them down your legs, pulling away from you yet again to place them next to the rest of the discarded clothes. At that moment, he takes the time to rip a corner off the metallic package with his teeth, the foil discarded onto the dresser once done.

He grabs your hips again, this time pulling you flush to the edge of the bed as he stands at the foot of it. His hand makes its way to your thigh and his perfectly trimmed nails press into your soft skin as he holds you close. The tip of his cock teases your entrance and if you had a voice, you would have begged for it. As usual, you didn’t have to.

Levi leans down to you and kisses you slowly, teeth brushing against your swollen bottom lip. He places his other hand on the bed next to your head, using it to keep himself propped up. His hair hangs low as he hovers, already moist with sweat from the proximity and building body heat between the two of you. You use one hand to grip his forearm while the other hand slides up the back of his head and into his sweaty hair, fingers digging into his scalp. As the kiss deepens, so do his movements into you.

Levi slides himself in gently, using his hold on your thigh to control his speed. He lifts your leg up against his hip for a better angle but the sharp gasp from you stops Levi in his tracks. He stays there, feeling your warm walls hugging tightly around him.

He pulls away from the kiss and hovers over you again, looking down into your eyes with worry. It's been a while since you have been touched like this, let alone this intimate. You don’t think you’ve ever felt this loved. Levi makes this all so easy despite the anxious knot in your chest. You realize it isn’t just this that he makes easy, though. It’s everything around you. Every issue, every solution.

You imagine you’re looking at him just the same, a small smile etching into your flushed and hot face. Before he can ask again, you move your hand up and under his fingers that digs into the bed next to you. Lacing your fingers in with his, you squeeze his hand a few times.

A way to say you were okay and that you trusted him. And always would.

He looks down at you curiously but then realization dawns on him. His concern washes away to reveal his own version of adoration for you. It’s one of your favorite expressions on him by far.

In a breathless moan, Levi pushes himself all the way in. He presses his lips onto yours, muffling your moans that rise in volume as he slowly rocks into you. The hand he had on your thigh tightens as he pulls you into him more, quickening his pace slightly. The new angle hits a spot that almost puts you at the brink of finishing right then and there.

Levi lets go of your hand and moves his arm under your neck again, giving him the opportunity to trail his now sloppy kisses and teeth down it. Those razor-sharp teeth sink into your skin as one of his thrusts hit simultaneously. You bite into the back of your hand to keep yourself from wailing out and waking the rest of your roommates. The other hand that now sits against his sweaty chest digs into his skin, burying deeper with every thrust. It feels as if every part of your body burns like wildfire from his touch. Your name comes out in a groan this time, husky and deep.

“God, you’re fucking beautiful. You feel so good.” He buries his face into your collarbone as he moans your name again, shakily.

Levi thrusts soon become clumsy, feeling him slam into you inconsistently and with every hit comes more pressure against your clit. Heat builds into your core, the same as before. You’re pulling at his hair, in an attempt to warn him you were close. Throaty curses leave his lips as you both feel each other tense up.

In an instant, it’s like the world crumbles around you as you hit your limit. The walls surrounding Levi clenches as each wave of pleasure rolls through your whole system. Your orgasm sends Levi over the edge and in one deep thrust of his hips, you feel his body shudder as his moan almost turns into a whine. His teeth bite into you again as he rides through his own climax, filling up the condom within you.

Levi releases your leg and lets it fall gently against the bed before collapsing on top of you. He uses an arm to keep himself propped up enough to not suffocate you with his body weight. You focus on the heavy panting emanating from the both of you as you come down from your high. His heart beats in sync with your own against as he lays on top of you, digging his face into the crook of your neck.

You wrap your arms around his head and hold him close, despite the heat and sticky sweat between your bodies. Levi nuzzles his nose into sweaty soft skin and chuckles, low and hoarse. You both continue to lay like that until the breathing slows down to a normal pace. The next time he speaks, his voice is so soft and barely audible that you almost miss it.

“I love you too.”

☾ Previous Chapter: June - Part 3 ☾ Next Chapter: June - Part 5 [Final]

[first-and-last-neocount]

Whumptober Day 10

Busy day today, so bit of a late post, lol. 

Here we have our first addition to the Altered Carbon fusion ‘verse. I’ve decided that this is not actually a chapter of Wake Me When I Die Again, because it’s set quite a while before that fic takes place - only fifteen years or so post-canon, in fact, where the main fic is taking place three hundred years after Crown of Shadows. I’ll have to come up with a series name, but this is basically a prequel timestamp; something we’ll be getting a few more of, as the month goes on. 

And yes, this is the fic I was thinking of a couple weeks back, when I apologised to Damien in the tags of that post about torturing your blorbos. XD

Day 10 - Theme Chosen: Waterboarding

Damien jerked awake disoriented, his head aching. The red glow against his eyelids told him that whatever location he had found himself in was too brightly lit, and that he would only be blinded when he opened his eyes, so instead he tried to flex his arms and legs - to determine how injured he might be, beyond the throbbing in his skull, and if he was in any kind of shape to defend himself. 

The attempt met with failure, and the bite of metal around his wrists, a similar resistance gripping his ankles. Damien felt a chill work down his spine, but before his spinning mind could grasp any other details of his situation, a voice spoke nearby. 

“Ah, I see you’re awake. How wonderful. I’ve been so looking forward to this… reunion.”

Damien’s heart lodged in his throat. 

He knew what he would find, but he slitted his eyes open anyway, finding the expected bright glare. He squinted against it, ignoring the sharp spike of pain that it caused, until his eyes adjusted enough to give him at least a blurry impression of the room; a stone-walled chamber, lit by flickering torches, windowless. Likely underground, judging by the damp tang of the air and the traces of moss growing between the stones of the far wall. Damien was lying on a table in the centre of the small room, shackled to the rough wooden surface - and the only other occupant that he could detect in the room was standing next to the table, smirking down at him, her features twisted in malevolent triumph. 

Damien swallowed back the hate that welled in his throat, well aware that once he let that vitriol spill free, any chance of getting information would be gone. 

“I’m surprised to see you here. I didn’t think you’d ever bow to the Church.” 

“Oh, but I haven’t.” The girl couldn’t have been a day over seventeen, her features delicately pretty, almost elfin - but that was only on the surface. Behind her dark brown eyes was a spark of absolute insanity, a glimmer of cruelty honed by decades, if not centuries, of unbridled malice. “I am not one of their obedient servants, only an… ally, if you will. We have mutual interests, if not perfectly harmonious methods.” She reached out with one slim hand and stroked the side of Damien’s face, her long nails prickling unpleasantly against his skin. “I assist them when they request it, and in this case - well, when I heard they’d finally caught you, I could hardly pass up the opportunity.” 

Damien’s skin crawled, but he tried to maintain an expressionless mask, unwilling to give her the satisfaction of his discomfort. 

“I’m surprised you’d rather have this conversation with me than with Ciani.” 

The girl hissed, and her nails dug in hard enough to draw blood from Damien’s jaw. He winced at the pain, but his heart leaped, a flicker of hope stirring in him at her rage. The girl drew her hand back, glaring at him venomously. 

“Oh, very clever,” she spat, her lip curling. “Yes, your heroic endeavour succeeded, foolish though it was; she’s escaped our grasp, for now.” 

She leaned down further over Damien, and the Envoy’s stomach turned over at the feel of her breath on his skin - the hot, coppery scent of blood. 

“Don’t think you’ve won anything real, Vryce,” she purred, voice dropping back into its typical smooth cadence. “Your loremaster might have gotten away this time, but our hold over the human lands is solidifying as we speak - the bitch can’t hide from us for long. And when we find her, we’ll take great pleasure in teaching her the folly of opposing us.” 

Damien knew he’d pay for it, but he couldn’t help the smirk that spread across his face. 

“So, what are you calling yourself these days, now that you don’t have your citadel to be Master of?” 

She slapped him. It wasn’t a very hard blow, her youthful body not up to delivering much power, but the path of her nails stung viciously where they’d scored his cheek and the bridge of his nose. Damien blinked his eyes open, having reflexively closed them, to find that look of offended rage on her face again. Even though he knew he might regret it, once she really laid into him, he couldn’t help but take a little petty satisfaction at knowing that her ego was still so fragile - and her temper so volatile. 

“Gloat while you can, Vryce,” she sneered at him. “As it happens, you are correct; I’ve reverted to my birth name, at least for now. Corentine Bechard, Lady of Sheva - and likely more, once the Church reclaims the last of the lands you Envoys held.” A trace of smugness crept back into her expression. “Which, of course, will be much easier once you tell me exactly where your allies are hiding.” 

Damien knew it was extremely unwise, but his self-preservation was weak these days, and if he was damned either way he might as well have his fun winding her up first. 

He laughed. 

“You want to go digging around in my head?” he asked, baring his teeth in an expression he knew was more snarl than smile. “Go right ahead. You won’t like what you find, though. The Hunter made our bond so much stronger before the end - you thought his power was unpleasant when you felt it last time, it will eat you alive now.” 

To his disquiet, this time, Corentine did not lash out. In fact, she was smiling now herself, that eerie gleam of madness shining in her eyes once more. 

“Oh, I’m well aware of that. The Church already tried to infiltrate your mind directly, while you were still unconscious,” she murmured, her voice gone low and thick with a relish that made nausea cramp in Damien’s gut again. “The Inquisitor was bleeding from the eyes when they dragged him away, I don’t doubt they’ll have to put the poor man out of his misery soon.” 

Damien swallowed hard, his throat going dry at the anticipation in her eyes, but he tried not to let his voice waver. 

“I don’t know how you plan on getting anything out of me, then. I’m not going to betray Ciani, you must know that already.” 

“Oh, I know,” Corentine purred. “At least not willingly. That’s why we’re going to try some… more traditional methods of persuasion.” 

She stepped away from the table, moving toward the side of the room where Damien assumed the door must be, above his head. He twisted his neck as far as he could, but the bonds were tight, and he couldn’t see her. His heightened hearing picked up the scrape of wood, though, and then a sound that made his blood run cold - the splash of water. 

Corentine came back into view holding a wooden pail full of water, which she set on a small work table, a few inches away from the much larger table that Damien was tied to. Her smile would have looked sweet, if not for the deranged light in her eyes. 

“I hear you have a particular distaste for water. We’re going to explore that first. Do try to keep your wits about you, the Healer isn’t expected to join us for another half hour or so, and it would be so tiresome to have to fetch him early.” 

Damien watched her pick up a piece of woollen cloth from the work table and tried not to let himself tremble the way he wanted to. 

“You seem pretty sure of that information,” he said, tongue starting to feel numb in his mouth. He’d seen Hell once before, and this wasn’t it - but it was going to be close. 

“Oh, I am, very sure,” Corentine murmured, folding the cloth over itself once. “Ephialtes has proven extremely reliable in these matters. And of course, in this particular instance, he has the benefit of first-hand knowledge.” Damien felt his eyes widen, but before he could speak, Corentine was draping the layered fabric across his face. “I have no doubt his recommendations will once again prove useful.” 

Damien couldn’t keep himself still any longer, and started to struggle against his bonds despite the clear futility of it, when he heard the sloshing sound as Corentine picked up the bucket once more. 

“And if this doesn’t do the trick, well.” Corentine Bechard, the woman who had once terrorized an entire species as the Master of Lema, sounded almost hungry. 

“We’ll have plenty of time to try other methods.”

[jiminniethemarshmallow]

Thank You For Your Service IV (M)

Thank you @7stars-aligned13 for the beautiful mood board!!  Pairing: Jimin x Reader Genre: smut, angst, fluff Warnings: mentions of trouble conceiving, lots of time skips, squirting, face fucking, dom!Jimin, slight role play, impreg kink, dirty talk, fingering, cream pie Word Count: 24,500

Part 1~ Part 2~ Part 3~ Part 4

You hiccup, already crying fat tears before you’ve even heard the news. You fear those words, feel the emptiness, and it hurts your soul. The straight faced doctor takes her time coming into your room, letting out a sigh once she sees your face. It’s from exasperation, but you would like to interpret it as sympathy. She stands at the foot of your bed, waiting until you calm your breathing enough to hear her.

“As I am sure you have guessed, you are not with child.” Those words break your heart for the sixth time and you break down into sobs, hiding your face in Jimin’s pillows.

Six months. It has been six long months since you were wed and you still are not pregnant. Even after all those late nights, early mornings when you’d send the servants away before your schedules began, the remedies and special foods, the slightly uncomfortable positions and pillow mountains, you still are not yet carrying your husband’s child. And it crushes you.

Yes, you know having children is not all you are good for, but it is one of your duties as a Queen. Having heirs is something that only you can do and the entire kingdom awaits expectantly for the news of an incoming prince or princess that they can idolize and adore, so you feel the pressure at all times of day— as well as guilt in regards to your barren womb. You should be fertile at this youthful time in your life. Both you and Jimin have passed every physical examination and remain in excellent health, which is why it is so perplexing to you that you are having trouble conceiving. Rosé, Queen of the kingdom just north of yours, is already pregnant and she was wed to her husband an entire month after you. Twins, you hear she’s having. You’d hate to fall behind her kingdom in any aspect, even in such a trivial competition as having children. She has nothing to do with your family, and yet, you still feel so inferior because you do not yet have one.

“To put it bluntly,” Your doctor begins, looking down at the paper she’s holding, scribbled with notes. “I believe the cause of your current condition— or lack thereof— is due to the poisoning you endured several months ago. It is possible that the potion affected your reproductive organs in some imperceptible way; your kidneys exhibited symptoms of its effects for nearly a month after your recovery, so we cannot completely rule out this possibility. But, Your Highness, the only way I would be able to test this hypothesis is through surgery to visually inspect your organs.”

You shudder at the thought of being cut open, shaking your head animatedly. Maybe you would consider this “inspection” after a year of effort and failure, but you would not take such drastic measures this early. No matter how much the constant failure hurt.

“If my infertility is due to the poison-“ You swallow thickly when your voice comes out as a mere whimper.

“Let us not be so hasty in calling it infertility, Your Majesty.” She interrupts, stare lightening just slightly. She’s learned the tiniest bit of respect since working under Jimin, his low tolerance for rudeness and spiny disposition during medical examinations slowly beginning to unnerve her cold discourse. Many a time has he reprimanded her for speaking to you informally or for her lack of sympathy, and you are finally starting to see a change, though she still interrupts you to interject.

“If my current inability to conceive is because of the poison,” You try again, “Are there any elixirs or pills I could take to lessen its effects? There must be something!”

“Because we do not know entirely if this is due to the poison, I am hesitant to give you treatment— sometimes getting pregnant is difficult for some people and there is nothing medically wrong with them. For now I can only give you advice on conception: try to lower your stress levels, eat more fruits and vegetables for vitamins, and do not over exert yourself. That is all for today, I will be back in a month for your regular check up unless I am needed sooner.” With that she turns and leaves, not waiting to be dismissed and leaving you alone in your room.

It is the middle of winter and the bone-chilling winds whip against your windows. The palace is heated by fire, but you refuse to light your fireplace, choosing to sit and suffer in the cold alone as you wallow in your gloom. Jimin has been busy all day with kingdom affairs, out and about performing duties that not even your father cared enough to get done. The people love him, love how involved he is and how much he cares, and they never hesitate to alert him to any problems they might have that Jimin could take care of. Of course he doesn’t mind, you knew he would never be able to stay inside these sheltered walls for long when he was so used to the excitement of training and battle, but you wished he would spare a little time to cater to your issues. His absence during your monthly checkups is not unusual. For the first three he held your hand and sat with you, on the fourth he left in the middle due to an urgent matter, and these last two he has been out of the castle altogether. Since your third appointment, when your hopes of being pregnant were at its highest, he seemed to have a very negative attitude toward your checkups. He told you he did not intentionally avoid these meetings, and you think that is partly true, but you know that he must hate the constant rejection and is deliberately making himself unavailable when he thinks you will be rejected again. He would much rather hear the bad news from you instead of your cold doctor.

When you asked your father to accompany you, he sort of grimaced and then politely declined. You understand, the thought of addressing the fact that your daughter has not only been deflowered, but is being repeatedly taken in the efforts of bearing fruit is sickening to you, too. Also, he is not very adept at comforting you when you break down like this, face buried in your husband’s pillows and shoulders shaking with sobs.

Telling by the ache in your skull and the completely soaked through cushion beneath your head, a long time has passed by the time you finally raise your face at the sound of Jimin shuffling into your bedroom. He shivers once the door is closed again, expecting warmth but being met with bitterness.

“It is freezing in here.” He rasps beneath his breath, ignoring you momentarily to light the fireplace, moving to shed the outer layers of his clothing once the fire is of decent size. The single glance he took at you upon entering is all he needed to know what has transpired, and he is in no rush to hear the devastating words. It’s only until he is in comfortable attire that he turns to face you, easing your head onto his chest with a curled bottom lip before he’s even settled properly on the mattress. “My love...”

Your tears flow freely onto his chest and he says nothing, sighing into your hair because by now this has become a common occurrence.

“She said it might be,” You snivel, “because of the poison.” He closes his eyes, having suspected the same thing but praying that it was not true. He wondered if the poison would have any long lasting effects on you, or on your future offspring, but dismissed the thought immediately. Although he knows nothing of what the doctor has said, he feels discouraged nonetheless. His past failure to protect you continues to circle around his head like a vulture, tormenting him to no end and making its appearance to pick at his wounds whenever he starts to move on from it. Six months feels like a long time, but it is apparent that his emotional scars need far longer to fully heal. And for that he owes to Jinwoo.

“I am s-sorry for being s-so weak.” You wipe your nose, face red and puffy from both tears and embarrassment. “Half a year ago you had not yet seen me shed tears, and now...” Almost as if the word itself had summoned them, fresh droplets fall from your eyes, looking pitifully up at the man who had stolen your heart. Only, he must have given it back to you at some point because you feel too much these days and you are tired of hurting like this. God, you probably look so ugly right now, you can feel how swollen and red your eyes and cheeks are, your self confidence plummeting to an all-time low.

“You are beautiful and strong, (Y/n), do not ever think less of yourself. You have good reason to feel the way you do, please do not think that you have to be stoic in front of me.” Like always, Jimin says exactly the right thing to ease your mind, using his hand to wipe your wet face and burrowing into the sheets with you attached to his side, his heat warming the icy sheets that drowned you when you had been alone.

You retired to bed early last night, which is why you can afford to wake up with the sun this morning. Jimin sleeps soundly behind you, but his presence is felt stiffly on your ass between the thin layers of clothing. Snow twinkles on your windowsill, probably the last snow of the season, but you find the sun beaming as brightly as ever to illuminate the room. With the weather beginning to warm in preparation for spring, you’ve grown accustomed to the gentle sound of melting snow dripping outside your window. Mornings like these are scarce and you plan to make the most of it.

You attempt to turn and face your beloved, but his arms tighten around your waist, locking you in your position. A sleepy groan tickles your ear, the vibrations of his voice sending a shiver through you.

“You’re up early.” Jimin mumbles, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. His voice is always so deep and raspy in the mornings, his dialect coming forth with a yawn. You could listen to him speak like that forever, but all you can think about at the moment is how good his moans would sound with the added rumble of bass that comes from sleep.

“So are you.” You snort with a sly wiggle of your hips. The twitch of his length against you sends a flash of exhilaration through your system— time has been short lately and it has been far too long since you’ve last felt him. Apparently he feels the same way, his hand effortlessly gliding up your rib cage to palm at your clothed breast with a deep sigh. You can tell his eyes are still closed due to the laziness of his movements, but it doesn’t matter when his tender touches set your body on fire like this.

His lips find their way to your neck as he shifts closer, kissing and sucking gently enough not to leave marks but to get your heart racing with need. “Take this off.” You follow his instructions and promptly shed the nightgown from your body, leaving you nude against him as he presses himself to you once again, this time slipping a hand between your legs. Your nipples harden from the brief chill of the room before you adjust the covers over your shoulder again, and Jimin takes advantage of this with two fingers, twisting the bud between them to send a spike of pleasure down your spine.

You muffle a groan once his fingers begin to tease at your lower lips, spreading them and toying with the outer skin just to build your anticipation. He wants you to drip before he’s even touched you properly, to whimper into the sheets until you can’t take it anymore and call out his name in frustration. Your clit gets pinched between his fingers when he squeezes them closed, trapping the bud as he continues to rub you up and down, and you find yourself panting in a matter of seconds. Soon, his fingers start to get coated in the essence that seeps from you. It’s so sexy that he can barely stand it. Jimin loves to feel your warm juices trickling out of you, working you up almost feels better than tending to himself, and his breathing hitches too when you begin to wiggle in his grasp.

“Look at my gorgeous Queen, getting soaking wet from just a few light touches. So cock hungry this early in the morning.” His words make you quiver and whine, the teasing quality of his voice right up against the shell of your ear driving you absolutely insane. “I’ll give you what you want if you tell me~” You hadn’t expected him to be so playful after just waking up, but it’s a pleasant surprise.

“I want you to make me cum,” You breathe out between pants. “Then I want you to pump me full of your seed. Please, My King.” Your words have their own special effect on him, evident by the lustful groan he releases into your hair and how his hips subtly shift behind you. Immediately, his fingers move to your clit to lightly graze over the hood until you buck into him, only then does he add pressure. Your back arches into his palm as he continues to play with your nipple, having turned his attention to the other in order to provide the same treatment, pulling and tweaking at it, working the nerves until they’re raw and sensitive enough to have you gasping with every flick.

Jimin doesn’t need to be able to see you in your entirety to know how you look right now. You’re completely helpless to his touch, he can feel you writhing against him and heating up the space between the sheets as your temperature rises. He can feel your heart beating hard against your chest— and he wonders if you can feel his from his position pressed against your back. It has been a while since he’s allowed himself to indulge in these fantasies. He’s pleased to know that he still has every inch of you committed to memory and is able to so easily have you at his fingertips, quite literally. These past months, your focus has been solely on procreating in the bedroom and rarely for the fun of it, so this is refreshing. But he still asks anyway.

“You want me to spill my seed into you, hm? Are you fertile right now?” His words slip past your ears as you lose yourself to the circles he draws into your bud, but somehow you manage to catch them at the last second.

“It does not matter, I want you anyway.” The answer is no, you aren’t at your most fertile at the moment, but this isn’t about that. Regardless of if anything will come of it or not, you want to feel Jimin paint your walls white with his love, something you think you’ve become addicted to. You bask in the feeling of having him throb and twitch and lose control while at the mercy of your tight walls, even when he’s pounding your weak frame into whatever surface he’s decided to take you on, and the thought has you galloping toward your peak faster than expected.

His leg slips between yours to prop them open, two of his fingers dancing their way into your clenching entrance, the intrusion pulling a loud moan from your lips. They glide and twirl within you much to your delight, but before you can enjoy it fully, they pop out and slither back up to your clit with a thick coating of your own slick. It doesn’t bother you, you could cum like this easily, but what really makes you gape is the feeling of Jimin’s hard member grinding against your ass. You can feel that his briefs are now damp with a mixture of precum and your wetness as you continue to drip down your thighs and make a mess of yourself, and you can’t help but rock your hips into his motion. You grind into each other with sensual synchronization and soon he’s panting along with you, the swollen head of his cock peeking out from his briefs to wet your cheek, teasing you endlessly.

“Jimin,” You whine, praying that he’ll let you cum quickly this morning despite his teasing mood. Every buck into his fingers shoots jolts of pleasure through you and every press against his hot cock has you throbbing at your emptiness. It’s a never-ending loop that has both of you moaning in no time, and it isn’t long before the coil in your stomach tightens to its peak. “Fuck, I’m cumming.” You whisper quietly, your breath being stolen away by the feeling of your orgasm. Your husband groans behind you, forcing his own hips to jerk to a stop as you roll against him to ride out the waves. He can feel you pulsing against his fingers and suddenly craves to feel you around his member, removing his hand from between your legs to push away his bottoms.

“Are you ready for me, darling?” He whispers with soft kisses to your shoulder as you begin to relax again. His tip glides effortlessly against your drenched lips and the fire inside you reignites instantly.

“I am always ready for you, my love.” Turning your head, you find his lips and savor the passionate kiss you share, a warmth blooming in your chest that saves you from the cold of the bedroom. Ever so slowly he pushes inside you, bringing a hand up to hold your face to his as his tongue slips between your lips. Vibrations mingle throughout your bodies as you both moan, the insertion tight as he stretches you open in the early morning light, his morning wood always so sensitive especially with your recent bout of abstinence. On the first thrust his fingers intertwine with yours, and this is the most intimate moment you’ve had with him in a long while. It feels like ages have passed since you’ve indulged each other in slow sex and you are starting to realize just how much you’ve craved it. “I missed you.” You mumble against his lips, barely wanting to pull away to look at him.

“I’ve missed you, too.” Jimin smiles, his eyes still closed but hand still caressing your face. He uses it to skim down your figure, hooking under your leg to lift it over his own and allow him deeper into your cavern, angling himself until you squeeze his hand with a shaky moan.

He honestly thinks he could stay like this forever: wrapped up in your warmth, surrounded by blankets, giving you all the love and pleasure he can provide. Things have been so hectic these last few months, an odd tension growing between you two that he can always feel but can’t quite put his finger on, but in these calm moments before the chaos of the day, he feels completely safe and at ease. Being King is no easy task, this he expected, but this is the only time he gets to shed the expectations, the pretenses, the pressure and just be your lover. Just like at the beginning of your relationship— and how things were 8 months ago, when the Crown was first placed in his hands.

You feel almost like a rag doll in his arms as he snaps his hips into you, allowing him to take you and guide you to bliss. Your hips rock back into him subtly, inner muscles squeezing around his shaft and gripping onto him, begging him to stay buried inside to occupy your lonely walls and empty womb. Pressure builds in your lower abdomen again, accompanied by a flush that takes over your body and warms you uncomfortably under the sheets. Jimin tosses the coverings aside when it gets too much, sweat slicking where your bodies connect. Your nails dig into the flesh of his ass when you reach a hand back to rest on the muscle, groaning at how you can feel every movement whenever his hips surge forward, his strength jolting you with his slow, powerful strokes. His length curves perfectly inside you, touching all your favorite spots and it becomes increasingly apparent that you won’t last long like this. He encourages you with gentle sweet nothings tickled against your ear.

“My lovely wife, always so good to me.” Jimin nuzzles his face in your hair, pulling you impossibly closer as his hand returns to your breast. “Always so soft and wet around my cock, darling. Are you getting close again, my love?” You whimper loudly and nod, not trusting your voice entirely when you’re feeling so breathless. “You sound so sweet moaning for me like that. Shall we let the entire castle know what a splendid morning we’re having together? Let them hear how well your King takes care of you.”

“Jimin~” You croon as he picks up pace, hips slapping against your backside and filling the air alongside your heavy breathing. Removing his bottom hand from yours, he props himself up on his elbow to look down over you, opening his legs wider to gain as much leverage as possible to fuck into you. The speed and power he achieves like this has you crying out into the open air, uncaring of who hears how wrecked you sound. You’re certain that the guards keeping watch at your door are uncomfortable by the display of lust, but who are they to judge when Jimin touches just the right places within you to have your body coming apart at the seams?

“Cum for me, my love,” Your husband’s voice feels distant as your thoughts float away. You are not aware enough to marvel at the sheer strength and endurance of his hips, his pace not faltering even once. Crumpling the sheets beneath you, you turn your face into the pillow as your body starts to quiver, a warm hand gripping onto your hip to keep you in place against the onslaught of pleasure. “There you go, milk me of my seed.”

Just the simple thought he plants in your mind’s eye is enough to send you into heaven, your walls clamping down around him with a scream of bliss, just as he requested. Feeling him so deeply makes your eyes roll, every stroke kissing the entrance of your womb and you pray he gives you every last drop he has. With only a few more pushes of his hips, you feel his body tense behind you and shiver, an overwhelmingly sexy groan breathed right into your ear.

It takes several moments of gentle thrusting before he’s satisfied, your body sufficiently full of his sperm and skin tingling with the aftermath of a beautiful orgasm you happily shared. Jimin kisses his way down from the side of your cheeks and neck to your shoulder and arm, ignoring the thin layer of perspiration that dries quickly in the brisk morning air. Though soft, he remains inside of you as he settles himself back against the mattress and holds your body to his, lifting the sheets to cover you before the chill returns. You feel safe. Completely and utterly safe and comfortable in your lover’s arms as you drift back to sleep.

But the peace is short lived because just as you begin to dream again, you feel Jimin pull out of you and shift away, attempting to be as stealthy as possible as he slips from bed. He winces when you turn to your other side to face him, sleepy eyes watching as he pulls on his underwear again. You are unable to return the sweet smile he offers you, already missing the way his skin felt against yours.

“Will you not stay to cuddle me?” You ask quietly, unable to understand why he must leave so soon. The smile on his face turns sad, eyes flickering to the door as several consecutive knocks sing on the wood.

“I have many duties to fulfill today, my love.”

‘And no time for me...’ You think with a poorly concealed frown, burrowing deeper into the bedspread when he opens the door for your servants, who get to work on preparing him for the day immediately. Deep down you know you likely will not interact with him until nightfall as he scrambles around the castle and kingdom serving his duties, but you try not to feel the distasteful irritation in your chest and send him off with a kiss when he makes his exit. Sometimes, though, you cannot help but think he was more eager to be with you when he was merely a soldier.

Jimin sits at a round table meeting with his advisors to discuss the affairs of the kingdom, in which there is not much to report. This is a mandatory meeting they must have weekly and they rarely last long. Most of the time, the conversations divulge into unrelated, off topic subjects just to pass the time, and Jimin has no problem with this on most days. He has a good relationship with his advisors and there is almost never any need for him to use his status as King during their discussions. Today, however, his fuse is a little short. It may be because of the all too frequent restless nights he has been experiencing, or from the lack of quality time he has spent with you, but he is far more irritable than usual. All he can think about is how disappointed you looked when he left and how much he’d rather be cuddled up back in bed with you instead of sitting in front of this counsel.  

“Do not worry, the Queen has already taken care of it.” Someone says, he does not know who said it because he is barely paying attention.

“Pardon my coarseness, Your Highness, but it is my understanding that Her Majesty has not yet conceived.” The man presents this in a questioning manner, but Jimin can hear the underlying condescension.

“You are correct.” He replies in a low voice.

“It has been 9 months since your matrimony. She should bear your heirs with haste.” The room swells with voices as his advisors begin to talk about you, each taking their turn to put in their opinions and criticism. He can hardly believe what he is hearing. They speak as though it is your fault that you are not pregnant, as if you are being defiant by not bearing him children, like it is a choice that you have made consciously. Anger bubbles in his chest, blood boiling as they continue ranting about you right in front of him as though they were not saying terrible things about his wife. He stands abruptly upon hearing someone tell a story about how his wife refused to birth him any more children because he “was acting like one” himself. Jimin interrupts just as the man is about to make a comment about stubborn wives, his voice billowing from his throat like heavy plumes of smoke that quickly engulf the room.

“How dare you speak of my wife— your Queen— in such a disrespectful manner! Do you accuse her of treachery against me? Against this nation? You have the gall to insult her efforts on something she cannot control, to doubt her intentions and loyalty to this kingdom and her own family? I should have you all removed from this castle permanently for suggesting such a thing, what do you have to say about that?!” He looks around the silent room at each of their faces, all of them looking utterly shocked by his outburst. Jimin has never needed to assert his authority over them like this, but they have gone too far today. Though he is the youngest in the room, he is easily the most intimidating when angry, regardless of if he were the King or not. Drawing in a deep breath, he tries to calm himself, running a hand through his hair as he takes his seat once more. “It is my fault anyway, not hers. It is my duty as well.”

It is quiet for a long while, the men around the table hesitate to speak again until one man builds up the courage to break the stillness.

“Do not despair, Your Highness, you are both still young, there is plenty of time to have children.” He reassures, followed by similar comforting phrases from the others. Jimin does not respond as he stares out of the window, a solemn look overtaking his face in place of the relaxed and neutral expression he normally wears. He wonders if you face this criticism regularly wherever you go, if people who are supposed to be your supporters are slowly losing hope in you. You already beat yourself up about not being pregnant, he fears what would happen if those thoughts were validated by others. Something must be done about this immediately.

It is silent for another long pause. “You are all dismissed.” He says with a flick of his hand.

*** *** ***

Your servants follow you around quite stubbornly, attempting (and failing) to be as unnoticeable as possible, but their presence is the only thing you can focus on. If you sigh too heavily they all come scurrying over, asking what was the matter, offering to take care of whatever task you had set out to complete. Yes, it was your mother’s dying wish for you to accept your loyal attendants, and it was your father’s order for them to look after you, but you cannot help but feel that this treatment is a bit excessive. It is almost laughable when you reflect on it: how just a year prior you were known largely for your independence, and now you could hardly find a moment to yourself. The only times you can get away with having minimal supervision is when you go out into town, where you may request only one or two guards or servants to accompany you.

Since becoming the official Queen of this nation, you have taken it upon yourself to care for the nuances of your society, to help individuals and keep a close relationship with the people. Jimin was focused on many of the larger issues that affected groups of citizens, like rebuilding one of the marketplaces that suffered damages in a fire last week, as well as handling international business with neighboring kingdoms. Naturally, everyone took a great liking to him and his policies and the people offered him immense support, but your job as Queen was to support the people. So, every week you go into town and buy a book from a novice writer, read it, then publish an unofficial review for the stories you enjoy. Not only does this boost the writer’s credibility, popularity, and sales, it also allows you to communicate with your people. Your presence in town never goes unnoticed, and often times people give you great recommendations on stories you should interest yourself with. It is the highlight of your week since all you can do is read in the quiet moments within the castle.

It is now early spring, trees budding with sweet smelling blossoms and the beginnings of greenery, displaying their proud potency in brilliant hues that bleach you into the gray of a dead willow. Still, your spirits are beginning to lift the farther you distance yourself from the castle. Walking through town, you breathe in all of the scents around you. Street vendors sell an array of foods that you do not see within the castle often and your mouth waters as you step up to one, picking out a pastry covered in sugar, something that you can easily pull apart with your fingers without the need of utensils. Before you can lift it to your mouth, the guard beside you stops you, plucking a small piece for himself to taste for poison. As a royal, you always thought this job was unnecessary and ridiculous before, but after the catastrophe at your wedding, you now understand it’s significance. That does not stop you from pouting, however, as you are forced to wait at least 5 minutes before the stiff guard allows you to dig into your snack.

You continue through the market, admiring crafts from artisans with masterful handiwork and struggle to keep your hand out of your purse whenever something catches your eye. This market is not the closest to the palace, in fact, it is quite far from it, but you have found that the most valuable work comes from the honest workers that live in smaller homes and lead honest lives, not from the traders and merchants who buy their goods from others and claim them as their own in the wealthy districts. The people who live on the outskirts work harder, and they are the ones you need to support the most.

“This would look beautiful hanging from the palace walls, don’t you think?” You turn toward Lilian as she browses the collection of jewelry that sits beside the tapestry you are holding, her eyes inspecting it briefly.

“I think it would look lovely in one of the sitting rooms.” She grins. Lilian always accompanies you on these types of trips. You value her opinion and reason and sympathize with her lack of outside interaction. Both of you are in the palace at almost all times and you are sure you both would go crazy if not for these couple hours outside those claustrophobic walls.

“I think so, too!” You agree, turning to the guard who continues to survey the area. “What do you think, Kyungsoo?”

He looks at it for a while, then at the others around it, finally bringing his eyes back to yours. “Whatever you desire, Your Majesty. My opinion is insignificant.” His answer causes your face to fall, rolling your eyes at him because he always says that. This is another reason why you bring Lilian along.

Sauntering into your favorite bookstore, you cheerfully greet the clerk and begin browsing for newly released books. Not long after, two women approach you, one of which you recognize to be the bookkeeper’s daughter and a new friend of yours. She always comes to talk to you about the store’s newest additions, and it gives others around her the confidence to speak to you as well. Today she is with a slightly older woman who she introduces as a rising author.

“I believe I have read one of your books before; remind me, which ones have you written?” You prompt, making the woman blush and brighten.

“Snowflower is my most popular work. It is all thanks to your review that I was finally able to get noticed in the writing community!” She beams, sparking conversation with you and Lilian about the book that the two of you enjoyed so much. It must be more than 15 minutes later that you finally decide on what to purchase, you have been listening closely to all that the ladies have to say about each author and the summaries of each story. There were multiple that piqued your interest and you could not decide so you ended up with 3 books in hand as your friend walked you to the register. One of them happens to be a story following the trials and struggles of a mother who becomes pregnant during a war. Of course you hadn’t picked this book for its theme of motherhood. It promised to be a good read— though you had overlooked it many times before today— and you certainly did not choose it because it was the closest thing to a lesson on pregnancy you could get without purchasing the entire series of “Preparing for Parenthood”, perched on a shelf that you found yourself eying the majority of your stay in the store.

Your friend talks mindlessly as she rings you up for your books, inspecting your odd selection. “So tell me, Your Majesty, are you with ch- ow!” The woman beside her pinches her arm just out of your sight, offering up a tight lipped smile when she turns to pout at her. A short flash of realization crosses her face before she returns her attention to you.

“Am I with whom?” You ask, confused.

“Are you with t-the children! Have you- have you come to see the preschoolers perform today?” She covers quickly with a nervous smile. Lilian glares at her when you are facing the other way.

“Oh! I recall hearing that they will be performing a play today, I nearly forgot!” The people around you sigh in relief at your obliviousness, resuming conversation as though nothing had happened. They give you instructions to the school and you rush there, Lilian carrying your books and Kyungsoo leading the way.

When you arrive, there are only parents and family members filling the auditorium, signifying that the play has not yet started. They chat amongst themselves in a rumble of murmurs, but the noise quiets quickly once you are noticed by a teacher that stands near the stage area.

“Her Majesty!” She gasps. “Welcome, welcome!” She practically runs to you, approaching clumsily while Kyungsoo moves to shield you with his body, stopping the woman before she can get too close. You gently move him aside to allow the woman to see and speak directly to you. “I had no idea that the Queen would be visiting today! To what do I owe you the pleasure?”

“I have come to see the children perform. It is imperative of me as Queen to support our kingdom’s youth.” You smile, noticing a weird look that crosses her face for a moment before smoothing out. Lilian has a tight smile spread across her lips just out of your peripheral.

“Of course! Well, you are just in time, the show is about to begin.” She tries to clear the front row of parents for you, but you insist that the parents of the children should get the best seats, settling for the chairs she pulls up for you at the sides of the small theater.

The moment the toddlers waddle onto stage in their costumes, your heart liquifies. They are the cutest things you have ever seen. Some of them look confused, some are pouting, but most of them are excitedly waving at their parents in the crowd, nearly tripping over each other from not looking at what’s happening in front of them. Even more heartwarming is the reactions of the parents, each and every one of them sitting up straighter and beaming with joy at the sight of their offspring, even the parents who had previously looked bored. Your attention is split between what is happening onstage and in the crowd throughout the entire play, watching the silent interactions between child and parent. You could always tell which tot belonged to which parent because of their reactions. Every child had their own lines, and whenever one stepped up to speak, the parents would lean in closer to the stage or straighten up to send a thumbs up to the wide eyes that stare back at them.

At some point, you had begun to imagine what it would be like if your own child were up there. You scan the faces of the toddlers, determining that a shy little girl bears the closest resemblance to your future baby, and you watch her the entire rest of the play. Her finger reaches into her nose several times during the performance, something your toddler would be forced to learn not to do, and she appears to be quite hesitant to say her lines. You and Jimin would act just as her parents are now, waving at her and mouthing words of encouragement when it seems like she will not speak at all, smiling proudly after she executes her parts flawlessly. Jimin would probably hold your hand as you watch her and you would be able to feel the sweat on his palms from how much he would worry for her, whispering to you how he hopes she will not cry because of how shy and quiet she tends to be. And you would whisper back that your baby is talented and will do great because she is very mature for her age, being a Princess and all.

Your eyes do not leave the girl for a minute and you are so caught up in your fantasy that you almost miss when everyone stands to clap at the end of the show. You rise slowly and offer your applause, cheeks hurting from smiling too much, but you cannot ignore the bittersweet feeling in your chest that comes when all of the children disperse and run into the arms of their waiting parents. And you are forced to remember your situation. The teacher begs you to make closing remarks and you take your place on the empty stage to address your people. Unable to focus properly, you barely know what you are saying; you thank the students and teachers for a great show, repeat a total of 4 times how adorable the children were, speak at length about how much you enjoyed everything, and once you notice that you’re rambling, you conclude quickly and move from the spotlight awkwardly. The families don’t seem to notice as they return their attention to gushing over their babies.

Just as you are about to make your exit, someone runs up to you and stops at your feet, her hair barely reaching the bottoms of your knees as she looks up at you. It is the girl you had been watching, and her arms reach up to be held once you make eye contact with her. At the approval of her parents, you lift her light body and rest her on your hip, the position comfortable and natural despite you having held a child only a few times in your life. You congratulate her and she smiles at you, turning to look at her parents as you try not to marvel at how perfectly innocent and sweet her face is.

“Your Majesty,” Her mother greets with a bow. “I was very surprised to see you here today. I had heard that you often come to these parts of town, but I would have never expected you to grace us with your presence on an occasion like this.” She is very polite, noting how the little girl has taken a liking to you already.

“I believe it is important to keep in touch with my people, and what better way is there to connect with you all than to attend a performance of my kingdom’s children?” You grin.

“I heard rumors that lately you had been feeling quite under the weather.” At this you quirk an eyebrow. She continues. “Many had assumed you were pregnant, so word spread that the King would not allow you out of the palace and that is why you had been absent for the past few weeks.” As if Jimin could tell you what to do. Yes, it is true that you had not gone outside of the palace in about 3 weeks, but that was of your own accord.

Jimin’s mother had taken a short vacation to your home upon your request after you detailed to her your troubles with conceiving in a lengthy letter, and she spent those three weeks improving your physical health with things like yoga and kegal exercises, as well as offering you very blunt and personal advice that you were almost too embarrassed to put into practice. Jimin warned you of how she was unafraid to talk about intimate topics, recalling a specific conversation she had with him in his teenage years, but you were still unprepared for the sheer amount of information she gave you during that time. You simply did not have time to go on your weekly shopping trips.

“That is... not the case.” You reply, adjusting the girl on your hip.

“Oh, then you are not pregnant?” The woman seems surprised and Lilian seems almost outraged, cutting in when you open and close your mouth with no other response.

“We have not been to this part of your town yet, are there any places you suggest we visit?” Lilian’s voice sounds through her teeth, swiftly changing the subject. You didn’t think you would have trouble talking about this, but here you stand, blinking away tears at her question. The girl’s mother seems to realize her mistake when she takes in your watery eyes that you try to hide with a fake smile. You let Lilian continue her conversation as you wander away a few steps, pretending to inspect your surroundings as you gather yourself, until a nearby newspaper catches your eye. On the cover are the words “KING’S NEW ORDERS! PROTECT THE QUEEN” and your heart jumps at the suddenness. You bend carefully to turn the page and read the article, a mix of emotions rushing through your body that almost makes you lose grip on the child in your arms when you understand their significance. You quickly return her to her parents, excusing yourself from them on the pretense that you had to be back at the palace for important business, and you instruct Kyungsoo to guide you back to the carriage to head home.

Upon entering your bedroom, Jimin finds a note on the bed in your writing, reading it with curiosity. It leads him to a familiar place and he hurries there with mild concern, mind rushing with thoughts of what your note could have meant.

Curled up in your favorite chair, he finds you reclining with a new book in hand as you look through the window of your Secret Library. Your servants know nothing of this place, you and Jimin have made certain that it’s location remains hidden, so this is the only place you can truly be alone. To his knowledge, you only come here when something is troubling you or when you need to think, and his mind jumps to all of the worst case scenarios of what could have happened.

“My love, you wished to speak with me?” He asks, approaching urgently as according to your urgent letter. But you remain relaxed and unresponsive as you continue to flip through the pages of your novel. He looks down to inspect your choice reading, taking note that it speaks of a woman who, in this current scene, is just learning that she is pregnant. You take your time reading it, only turning to him after the chapter is finished. When you turn to him your eyes are blank and unreadable.

“Why have you placed a censorship on our people, My King?” You ask suddenly, and it takes him aback.

“A c-censorship?” He stutters out.

“Yes, you recently placed a censorship on the people of this kingdom, have you not?” You look him in the eyes and find that he can barely hold eye contact, his entire body tense. It is difficult for him to respond, especially since you were not supposed to know about this, at least not this soon.

“It is not a censorship.” He evades.

“Really? So you have not ordered our people to be silent about anything pertaining to pregnancy and children around me?” He fidgets under your piercing tongue, unsure of how to respond. “That sounds quite close to censorship to me.”

“It is only to protect you, My Queen,” He relents, stepping closer to you as you snap your book closed. “People can be very insensitive and I did not want you to be hurt by their words.”

“Hurt by their words? What words would they have said to me? I am not a child, Jimin, you need not protect me from words!” Your volume rises along with the redness of your face. “Are the people criticizing me in some way? What have they said? What have you heard to make you so wary of words?”

“Their words hurt me, (Y/n).” He says quietly as he lowers himself to his knees and takes hold of your hands when he sees the worry in your eyes. “What I heard hurt me, and I could not bear the thought that you may hear such things too. I did not do this because I think you are not strong enough to endure it, I did it because you do not deserve to hear such negativity.”

“Even so, how dare you make such a rash decision without consulting me.” You remove your hands from his and he does not reach for them again. “You saw me directly after your council meeting last week and mentioned not a word of this to me. If you had asked, I would have told you that none of this is necessary, that I can handle whatever my people have to say about me because I am the Queen!” Your voice cracks annoyingly as you fight back hot tears. “I should be able to answer them when they ask me questions. And maybe I should hear what they say about me. Because they are correct, I am not pregnant and I do not know if I can ever become pregnant and maybe they should be worried. My sensitivity should not warrant their silence.”

“You are not sensitive, my love, you have every right to feel the way that you do.” You ignore him.

“But what troubles me the most is how you so easily excluded me. You acted without my consent and planned to keep this from me indefinitely— you even made sure Lilian was the first to know so that she could keep watch over me today! What happened to our communication, Jimin? We should be able to talk to each other about anything and everything, but instead you felt the need to keep something so important a secret from me. You could have simply talked to me and told me how you feel. It feels as though we have not spoken in days, it is almost like you aren’t trying anymore. It feels like you have given up.”

The fire in your tone dies down until all that is left is pain, and Jimin realizes that it is he who has hurt you the most.

Lilian told him about where you went today and how you acted. She told him of the lost and pained look in your eyes as you watched the children, even though you were smiling. Most importantly, she relayed your exact reaction when that woman asked if you were pregnant. It was just as he had feared. Putting these pieces of information together with the book you had been reading, Jimin knows that this argument is about more than what you’d like him to believe.

“This is no longer about the censorship, is it?” He asks cautiously, guilt leaking onto his features. You appear shocked at first, not having realized your own subliminal shift from the topic, but then your face twists with emotion and you bite your lip and turn your head from him in an effort to hold yourself together. You are tired of crying in front of him.

“You-“ Sniffling, you try to control the shakiness of your voice. “You do not talk to me anymore. I never know how you are feeling these days because you have been avoiding me.”

“I do not try to avoid you, my love.” He frowns, moving his hand to rest on your knee.

“It feels like you are. You do not come to my health examinations anymore, you can never seem to make time for them.” He opens his mouth to speak, but you don’t let him. “I am always forced to go through them alone and I sit there the entire time wishing that you were there to hold me or reassure me, but I’m always alone. And it may be easier for you to hear the bad news from my mouth, but it hurts me more every time I am forced to tell you that I have failed once again. And we haven’t tried in a long while, I am beginning to fear that you no longer want to touch me.” Your eyes convey a deeper pain than your words can communicate, and the earnestness in them when you look at him breaks his heart. He didn’t mean to make you feel this way, it‘s the last thing he would want.

“I still very much want you, My Queen, I always will. I have been hesitant to initiate anything with you as of late because you seemed so disheartened and dejected and I did not want to further upset you with inappropriate timing. I have also been struggling to keep my optimism, forgive me for my misjudgment.”

“That is another problem,” You sigh, knitting your eyebrows. “I have no idea what you are thinking or feeling. You always comfort me and tell me that I can be open with my emotions with you, yet you do not listen to your own advice and tend to lock up around me. It will not lessen my sadness, but to know that you are just as affected by this as I am and that I am not overreacting would give me the tiniest bit of comfort. But when you force yourself to appear unaffected, it feels as though I am the only one who cares.”

“But I am the King,” Jimin starts, conflicted. “I cannot afford to show weakness or lament in our misfortunes. I must be strong for the people.”

“Strength is not the only trait of value!” You hiss, irritated that he has this perception that is so inaccurate. “Emotion does not always entail vulnerability and the people will see that. They adore how much you care about them, how you grieve with them when you learn of their losses, so why would it be inappropriate for you to care about me? Do not forget that you are also my husband. That is what you signed up for on our wedding day; you married me and the kingdom followed. Why is it that I am never your priority?!”

Sadness transforming into boiling rage, you stand and push past him toward the exit. This is your first real argument with him and it seems that everything that has been bothering you for the past few months is now exploding out of your mouth. You did not mean for your words to be so harsh, yet you could not control them and figured that you should let everything out while you had the chance. Much of your frustration is about your own incompetence, but you redirect it toward him because you cannot handle anymore mental self-abuse. A tiny part of you wants him to yell back at you and affirm everything you already thought about the direction of your relationship just so you could be right about something for once. Most of you, however, wants him to run after you, take you into his arms, look you in the eye and dispel all of your worries by pouring out his heart to you.

And that is exactly what he does.

“My love, do not run away.” He says gently, grabbing your hand before you can even make it 3 steps past him. He moves to the front of you, taking your face in his palms so he can stare into your eyes, hoping they can fill in the blanks between his words. “You are always my priority and you always will be. I-“ He sighs, looking away for a second before returning to you. “I do not always make the best choices, and for that I apologize. Being your husband and a King is far different than being a military general, and it is taking longer to adjust than I anticipated. I love you so much, to the point where I am afraid of making mistakes and losing your heart somehow, so I try too hard to be perfect. I take care of your kingdom because it was yours before it was mine and I know how dearly you hold it’s people. I try to be as tough as possible for you because I thought you would expect it of me when you were feeling weak.” His hands fall to your shoulders. “As a General, I learned that the only way to gain respect and love was to work hard and solve all issues, but it appears that I will need a different mindset in this situation. Because it seems I have become too consumed with work and too busy to show my love for you, and I know I will need to change that if I want to be a good father to our children.”

“You do not need to change at all, Jimin. Who you are trying so hard to be is not the same man you were when I met you. Yes, you were strong in front of others, but you never closed yourself to me. I do not want you to change or pretend to be tough, I want you to be you, because that is who I married.” This causes him to think back to how he has behaved in recent months. Maybe he was avoiding your appointments purposely so he wouldn’t have the chance to break down in front of the doctor or Lilian. And maybe he had been ignoring you so he wouldn’t have to face his own pain that you reflected. He’s been treating you unfairly in an effort to play a role that doesn’t exist, and he welcomes the guilt that slaps him in the face at the realization. He hates that he ended up like this even after all that you went through in the aftermath of your wedding. It is like he had forgotten all that he promised you.

“I apologize for everything, My Queen. I will remove the censorship immediately.” His head bows with heaviness. “I do still want a family with you, but maybe we should take a break from trying, just for a little while. Maybe this building friction between us and the stress it caused has been affecting our fertility. Maybe we are trying too hard and should take your advice to just be ourselves. A baby should be made from love, not by expectation. I do not want-“ He thinks about his next sentence carefully. “I want to improve our relationship first, before our attention is shifted to other matters. We are young and have not yet been married a year, my love, we will have plenty of time to conceive. Let me make up for the neglect you have suffered these past months. Let us take it one day at a time.”

He’s right, your relationship has been strained, and it is not only from the fact that you are not pregnant. The discord between you two has taken a toll on your body: you are constantly exhausted, your head pounds with headaches most days, and the loneliness has changed your positive attitude into one of sulking and disdain. It has changed you. So how could you think of bringing a child into this world when you are at this level of dysfunction? Things needed to be resolved first, and here he is, willing to work everything out with you after accepting his faults. You couldn’t possibly reject him.

It’s been nearly a month since your argument, and things have taken a turn for the better. You helped Jimin realize something he didn’t quite understand before: that as King, anything he says goes, so he has been taking frequent days off to spend time with you. He’s taken you on many dates around the kingdom, showing you his favorite places to go when he was a child, exploring different towns you hadn’t gotten a chance to see yet, he even accompanied you on your shopping day to meet some of the friends you’d made. Being able to spend time with him like this reminds you of what it felt like in the beginning of your relationship. The novelty of seeing him and the excitement you’d feel in the pit of your stomach. Except this excitement is now from your curiosity of what activities you’ll do with him that day and not from the thrill of possibly being caught together by servants.

You’ve kept things fairly innocent these past few weeks, focusing on rebuilding your emotional connection instead of being physical. You’d lost a lot of weight during the months you were at odds with Jimin, but you’re happy to say that you’re gaining it back now that you’re paying more attention to your health and happiness and not the crazy diets and detoxes that people recommended to you to help with conception. What’s more, you’ve been keeping busy by accompanying Jimin on his political duties instead of remaining put away in the palace. He didn’t want to involve you in political affairs to keep your stress levels low, but you remind him that you’ve been involved in things like that since you where a young princess, so this is the norm. So now you happily travel with him out of the kingdom to attend meetings with neighboring rulers and assure them of your health.

This is the first trip you’ve taken, and it feels absolutely liberating. Seokjin insisted that you and your husband stay in his family’s vacation home located in the area— one of many acquired throughout his travels as a collector and salesman— and it is arguably nicer than the one offered by the royals of this kingdom. Perhaps not as luxurious (though very close to it) but certainly more private. You’d take any opportunity to escape any hovering servants. Your eyes sparkle as you walk through the doors, taking in the modern furniture, high ceilings, and breathtaking view of the green valley and hills surrounding you. The altitude is quite a bit higher than you’re used to, the kingdom poised along a mountainside and sourcing its water from the river that flows through the valley below.

You blame this altitude for the sick feeling in your stomach and the lightness of your head, trying your hardest to keep your etiquette and not plop face first onto the huge mattress. You sit gingerly on the edge, aided by Jimin, who kept hold of your arm ever since he saw you swaying when you stepped out of the carriage. He fusses over you, letting out a disgruntled grumble when you remind him that you saw the doctor before your departure and she found no troubling conditions within you— not even pregnancy, which you were disappointed to hear, but not surprised. The symptoms come and go and you assure him that all you need is some rest and you’ll be back on your feet, and he leaves you under the watch of Lilian and Kyungsoo (who accompany you everywhere) while he travels to the castle to greet the King and assure him of your safe arrival. You nap while he’s away and awake just in time for dinner, feeling refreshed and symptom free, much to his relief.

Being away from the palace and kingdom is sure to do wonders for your physical and mental health. Just being here with the people you love is a breath of fresh air, and you can’t wipe the smile off your face. Seated at the table accompanied by Jimin, Lilian, and Kyungsoo, you feel this is the closest thing you’ll have to a family dinner for a long while. As your servant, Lilian never eats with you at the same time, let alone at the same table, but you begged her to join you and fill the evening air with casual chatter. Kyungsoo is your favorite guard and you’ve always wanted to get to know him, but he remains relatively quiet throughout the meal and never lets his guard down, taking the farthest seat from his monarchs to silently observe. Typical. With your energy levels still quite low, Jimin and Lilian do their best to raise your spirits by showing off their goofy sides, telling stories and making you laugh almost nonstop. But just seeing them bond so well is enough to make your heart swell. You wonder if Jimin will have this type of relationship with your children, one where they can joke freely and build trust with each other without being hindered by the forced power dynamic. You hope their relationship will be better than the somewhat estranged one you have with your father.

“Are you comfortable, my love?” Jimin asks as you settle in for bed. This mattress seems to be made from the clouds of the heavens, you’ve never felt relaxation like this. You’ll have to purchase one for your own bedroom.

“Yes, My King.” You return, grinning at the way his cheeks lift. He climbs in behind you after blowing out the lanterns, the scent of smoke wafting gently through the room.

“How are you feeling? Better?” He sounds tired and you have no desire to keep him awake with your troubles, so you nod.

“Yes, after my nap and dinner, I feel just fine.” You don’t mention your growing headache because you’re certain a good night’s sleep will resolve it. You’re feeling uncharacteristically tired, exhausted even, and it’s most likely from the long journey here. Hopefully, you’ll wake up refreshed and energized in the morning.

“Alright. Let me know if you need anything tonight.” He whispers, already starting to drift off.

“I won’t trouble you.” You assure him, sinking into slumber.

“Are you sure you are well enough to go out today?” Lilian sifts through your clothing, trying to decide what to dress you in for today’s events, accounting for the warm mid-spring weather. She is alone in the bedroom with you, Jimin having stepped out to give you privacy while getting ready.

“Yes, I am feeling much better.” This isn’t a lie. Although you felt extremely sluggish upon first waking up, you now feel great. Jimin had asked you about a thousand questions before leaving bed this morning and at breakfast, and you dispelled each one of his worries with confidence.

“I am glad to hear that, but please do pay attention to your condition, Your Highness.” She says this as she holds up a pristine gown for your approval, handing it to you when you nod both at her words and fashion choice.

She doesn’t need to vocalize what’s on her mind, you know what she’s thinking, and frankly, you’ve been having the same thoughts. But your doctor was very clear that you are not pregnant when you saw her before the trip. Also, you bleed 2 weeks ago, and though it was short-lived, it was accompanied by cramps and headaches, dutifully reminding you of your empty womb. So you ignore Lilian’s concerns and move about your day like normal, smothering the tiny bud of hope that tries to bloom in your chest.

“Are you excited for today’s meeting?” Moving away from the topic, she smiles at you through the mirror at the way your face lights up, beginning her work on your hair.

“This is the most excited I have felt in a long while! It will be my first diplomatic duty as Queen.” Finally, you feel useful.

“Would you like me to accompany you?” What she means is ‘would you like me to keep an eye on you to make sure you are feeling okay/ nothing bad happens’ but you pretend not to notice.

“No, Lilian, I want you to treat this as a vacation of sorts. You work so hard my humble, loyal friend. Go and explore the towns, have fun while we’re away from the kingdom.”

“I do not want a vacation, I want to make sure you are alright.” She responds quietly, blushing. You hum.

“Respectfully, I do not need to be looked after like a child.” You chuckle. “I can do well on my own. Besides, Jimin and Kyungsoo will be there if anything happens.”

“Then I will take my leave tomorrow after I make sure you are alright today.” She says stubbornly, not meeting your eyes in the mirror. “I cannot relax in good conscience without being assured of your safety.” Nodding, you accept her terms with a smirk.

“Always a pleasure to see you, Queen (Y/n).” King Jackson smiles at you, bowing his head in greeting. You grin widely as you sit across from him and his wife at the large conference table, Jimin placed closely at your side.

“You as well, Jackson.” Last you saw him, he was a prince. In fact, he submitted the first marriage proposal you’d ever received, asking your father for your hand in marriage as soon as he heard you were of age. He is a little less than 4 years older than you, handsome, bubbly personality, likable and charming on all fronts, and you had no qualms with marrying him, but you also had no desire to leave your kingdom to rule another. As King, he would have you move into his castle and be at his service where you would likely not hold any power or say in most matters involving the people, something that deeply displeased you, so you turned him down. Now he has a wife and several small children, as well as the throne and an entire kingdom to lead. And as of your coronation, he is your kingdom’s closest ally.

“No need to be so formal, Queen.” He jokes, immediately setting a relaxed atmosphere. You are meeting to discuss and update the terms of a treaty between your allied nations, one that your fathers had written and agreed upon many years ago, but legally needs to be reviewed thanks to the recent shift in power. Your father is quite close with Jackson’s own, therefore you have a good relationship with the young King from years of getting acquainted during your childhood. Jimin, however, has no such history with the man and seems rather tense around the lighthearted playful. “I was disappointed when you refused by marriage proposal, but it seems that you have chosen a handsome and competent spouse in my place, just as I have.” He grins, winking at his wife, Lena.

“It was never ‘your place’, do not be so big headed,” You roll your eyes but he ignores your quip, eyes trained on Jimin.

“We spoke yesterday evening, but I am intrigued to get to know more of you, King Park. May I call you Jimin?” Jackson barely waits for a reply before continuing. “I must know more of the man whom I am to be allied with, and the man who married the ever-so-independent princess.”

“I must admit, I am curious about you, too. But if my beloved trusts and acknowledges you, then I will do the same.” Reaching under the table, Jimin’s hand finds yours and you smirk, pleased that he won’t let the other King intimidate him.

“Regarding the treaty;” Jackson pulls out a long document, skimming over the lengthy script that you are both irritatingly familiar with. “Will our kingdom’s continue to remain allied during times of war, help financially and provide resources in times of natural disaster, respect the borders set by each nation without the intention of gaining territory, and continue to keep trade borders open?” He reads off the major points of the list, you and Jimin answering with a ‘yes’ to each. “Is there anything else you would like to add?”

“Not that I can think of.” You respond, Jimin saying the same. Feeling satisfied by your responses, Jackson signs his name under the print of your fathers, passing the document to you for your signature. But you slide the paper to your husband, whose name appears in ink now instead of yours. Surprised by this, you can see the unfiltered comment bubbling out from the brazen King’s dome.

“I would not have expected, (Y/n), that you would submit the powers of your status to a man.” It is obvious that he has already assumed that your action means that you no longer hold the highest authority in your own land, but you are both quick to correct him.

“You are mistaken.” Your voices harmonize into one as you say this, Jimin continuing on to explain. “My Queen has not yielded even an inch of power to me. As I am sure you know, she is fully capable of handling affairs such as these, any responsibility she has shifted to me has been due to her own discretion.” Though his tongue is quick, Jimin is sure to keep a light, non-malicious tone so as not to offend your friend. You’d much rather focus on internal public affairs, leaving international and business related issues to your husband. But it seems others have the wrong idea about you.

The man across from you blinks at this, raising his eyebrows, and you know Jimin has just gained a large amount of respect in his eyes. You find it quite flattering to see him so defensive of you and you give an approving squeeze of his hand.

“As expected,” Jackson hums with a grin, receiving the document as Jimin passes it back to him. “Well, it seems that our business here is complete! Shall we have champagne to celebrate this swift agreement?” He doesn’t realize his error until his wife nudges him in the ribs and he looks up to see your faces pulled into wide-eyed frowns. “Ah, yes— my apologies,” He scratches his neck bashfully. “Then, may I interest you in some exercise?” Eyes boring straight into Jimin’s, he asks this as the men share a look.

“Oh, this is so exciting!” Lena beams, nearly bouncing in her seat as you both observe from a bench on the side of the field. Somehow you hadn’t expected this when Jackson offered his proposal. Your husbands are standing in a marked area with protective gear covering their bodies and gleaming swords, preparing for a sparring match in the warm weather. The sun beats down on you as you squint at them, using your hand to shade your eyes before Lilian appears with a parasol to place over your head. “Have you ever seen your husband fight before?” She asks, staring at your side profile.

“Never.” You respond. “This should be interesting.” Admittedly, you tend to shy away from violence, resenting the thought of people battling each other for bloody glory. Though you are in charge of the military, you never ask for too many details, and skillfully avoid any training grounds near the castle. It may be ironic, then, that you married a General who has seen more battles than he’s cared to mention and carries more scars than he’d care to explain. But you must admit that you’re intrigued by the spectacle he’s sure to put on for you, comforted by the fact that this is completely safe.

“Jackson has been training sword for most of his life, but has never seen an actual battle. I wonder how their skills will compare.” Lena states proudly, sipping from the drink one of her servants comes to offer, dismissed when you decline.

“I hear that you were a General, King Park.” Jackson checks the cap at the tip of his sword, nodding to the instructor that stands at his side.

“I’d like to think that I still am one.” Jimin responds as he stretches out his stiff muscles.

“Even after being promoted to Commander in Chief?”

“I’ve done nothing to earn that title but get married.” The man before him hums.

“I assume you are quite skilled with a sword then, have you practiced fencing before?”

“Of course, it is taught as the basics of sword fighting. Though, I would not say I am a master.” Humbly, your husband lowers his head to inspect his blade, shaking his head at Jackson’s outcry.

“Nonsense! Any man who has done battle for his life is surely a master. Though, I do ask that you do not hold back on me here; I certainly will not do the same for you.” A wolfish grin creeps up onto both Kings faces, mirroring each other as they pull down the hoods of their face guards.

“You’ve said nothing of your own skill thus far, I will not make the mistake of underestimating you.” The match starts swiftly after they take position, Jackson lunging forward and barely missing Jimin’s side as he dodges out of the way.

Your mouth falls open as they move, each motion calculated and precise. You know nothing about fencing, but it is clear that they are both highly skilled. You’ve never seen your lover move this way before, so dynamic and captivating as though he were performing a dance. Powerful and graceful in every step taken toward his opponent, wielding his blade as though it were an extension of himself. He is beautiful to watch, your heartbeat speeding up in your chest as you are enraptured by the display. Both King’s are even in size and capability, but you can see the ease of movement Jimin possesses compared to Jackson’s deliberate strokes, almost as if he were teasing him. Lena cheers from beside you, but you can’t make a sound. Seeing him like this— completely in his element and moving so gracefully— has your body heating for another reason unrelated to the unrelenting sun. You’ve married an amazing man.

“You’re quick.”

“That is a great compliment, coming from you,” Jackson grunts, keeping Jimin on the defensive with his bold attacks. “But I can tell you are merely playing with me.”

“Not playing.” Waiting. One thing Jimin is an expert at is waiting. Patience is his strength, in fighting and in his daily life. He was patient when it came to you, taking his time with each step of your relationship until he was entirely sure that you were ready, that you wanted him. He was patient with each of his military promotions, climbing up the ranks with hard work and diligence until he was recognized. And he will continue to be patient with the next stage of his life, trying his best not to lose hope that you will become pregnant one day, so he will deal with the disappointment and trials with you for as long as it takes.

As soon as Jackson falters he takes his shot, attacking with swift consecutive swings until his opponent is pushed far back on his side of the space and leaves an opening, one decisive lunge ending the match. They both pant as Jimin’s sword makes contact with the center of the other King’s chest, the cap pressed into the padding protecting his flesh. There’s silence for a beat before they both drop their guard, retuning to the start position. Jimin turns his head to make sure you were watching, lifting his mask to wink at you and smirking salaciously when you blush.  

“Well done.” Jackson nods. “But I won’t let you get the better of me next time!”

“Your husband is a bit intense, no?” You ask Lena as she giggles, humming in agreement.

“And it seems your husband is a bit competitive.” You also nod, the heat drying your mouth as you watch her sip her drink again. She calls over her servant when she catches your stare and they hand you a glass— Kyungsoo swooping in annoyingly to try it first before you can taste the sweet liquid. “He seems very fit and possesses a beautiful physique, I’m astounded that you have the willpower to leave bed with a man like that, especially as newlyweds.”

You choke on your drink mid-swallow, nearly spitting it out because of her words. Jackson has a notoriously dirty mind, it is no surprise to you that his wife shares that quality— she’d have to, in order to tolerate him. She laughs as Lilian takes the drink from you as you wipe your mouth, turning the comment back on her.

“I could say the same to you, Jackson is just as built.”

“Oh, trust that he kept me in bed for months after our wedding date. It is no coincidence that I have this many children now.” Her eyes shift back to the men on the field, seemingly satisfied with the rosiness of your cheeks. Recovering, you address her once more.

“Speaking of, may I meet them?”

“I’ve known (Y/n) for most of my life,” Jackson speaks up during their final round. “Though I submitted a proposal, she’s grown to be like a sister to me over the years.”

“Is that so?” Jimin grunts, their swords clashing loudly.

“I was skeptical of what kind of man she had chosen when word spread of your betrothal. Wondered if you would be able to protect her as she tends to venture out and do things on her own; sometimes-” He jumps back as Jimin closes in. “-befriending the wrong people. I worried when I heard of the catastrophe at your wedding ceremony.” The cap of Jimin’s sword touches to his opponent’s chest once again, ending the sparring match. They both remove their helmets and masks, breathing heavily as they look at each other. “I truly empathize with what you were forced to experience. I could not imagine being in that situation with my wife.” Both men turn to look at you and Lena, their 4 children surrounding you as you hold the youngest in your lap. It is a sight that simultaneously melts and breaks your husband’s heart. “Nonetheless, after meeting you, I am confident that she is in good hands. I like you a lot, Jimin, and though my approval may mean nothing, I think you are an excellent match for her.”

You look up to see them shaking hands, both of them walking over to you with content looks on their faces. The child in your lap looks up as his father approaches, making grabby hands at your friend until he reaches down and lifts him from you. You watch with starry eyes as Jackson props the child up on his hip, kissing over his chubby cheeks and forehead, but then your attention is pulled away when Jimin stops to stand in front of you.

“Did you win?” You ask, already knowing the answer.

“Yes, My Queen,” He bows dutifully, running a hand through his sweaty hair. It should be offensive how sexy he looks right now, standing in the sun with his wet hair, skin shining with hard work and eyes landing lazily on your figure with a lazy smirk. Your heart jumps and you have to look away before your mind slips even further away. “Do I get a victory kiss?” He bends down toward you, puckering his lips, and you push lightly at his chest with a laugh.

“But you’re all sweaty!” Your nose wrinkles at him but your eyes still lock onto his lips, even as you continue to swat at him.

“No kiss for your King?” Jackson quips, turning to his own wife who is already shaking her head in disgust. “Lena~ Don’t I get a reassurance kiss after my defeat?” The same look Jimin has on his face is contagious to the other King, who grins at Lena as she shields her face with another one of their giggling children, peeking out from over her shoulder. Both men approach with puckered lips, causing their Queens to squeal at their playfulness— you even hop up from the bench to avoid him, taunting him as Jimin chases you around the field. It’s rather immature, but you feel no need to pretend here or uphold appearances in front of your hosts. Lilian and Kyungsoo look on fondly, never having seen you so carefree.

“You never minded my sweat before, my love.” Jimin whispers to you when you finally allow him to give you a peck on the lips, his arms wrapped loosely around your waist. You don’t respond, rolling your eyes at him with a barely hidden smile.

“You seem to be getting along nicely with Jackson.” You comment as you rummage through your luggage, searching for one specific item. Jimin replies from behind the partition of the bathroom, bathing away the grime of the day in preparation for the night. You had both sent Lilian away when she offered to help and she took off to explore the nighttime activities of the kingdom, one of Jackson’s male servants offering to be her guide. You’ll be sure to ask her for details in the morning.

“Yes, he is quite an interesting character. He gave me his official approval to marry you, which I suppose I am grateful for.” Hearing the smile in his voice, you giggle, silencing the gasp that leaves your chest when you pull out the delicate lace garments, your heart rate speeding up. You aren’t sure why you feel so anxious about this. It’s not like you to get nervous about being intimate with Jimin, but you’ve never done anything like this before. Maybe it’s because it’s been a while since you last had him, the recent abstinence keeping your body on edge. Or maybe you are worried about what he will say when he sees you. Embarrassment colors your face as you quickly slip on the set, covering yourself with a robe when you are finished.

“He gave you his blessing to marry me?” You chuckle.

Stepping onto the tile of the partitioned washroom, you stand before the full length mirror to inspect yourself before tying it closed. The robe covers you from Jimin’s viewpoint behind you as he finishes washing up, and you try to appear productive as you move to moisturize yourself. When he is finished, your husband approaches from behind, a towel hung low on his waist as he comes to wrap his arms around your midsection. You can feel his sturdy body pressing into you as he pulls you closer, his eyes staring into yours through the glass when he rests his chin on your shoulder.

“His ego hasn’t shrunk an inch since I last saw him.” You sigh, letting your eyes flutter shut as the two of you sway gently together.

“Well, he is a King.” Jimin reasons in a whisper.

“But so are you.” His arms loosen around you when he feels you start to turn, both of your eyes open now as you peer up at him with glittering eyes, gingerly locking your fingers behind his neck. Your heart kicks up as you watch the easy grin on his lips, the absolute and unwavering adoration he holds for you so evident in his gaze. It reminds you of earlier times, his expression the exact same as when he first confessed that he was in love with you and you reciprocated, kissing him so certainly. Now, you kiss him with practiced ease and press ever closer into his warm body. Jimin’s tongue dances with yours, both of you getting lost in the moment until you are forced to pull away for air. “You were amazing today, General Park.”

The use of his former title makes his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. It isn’t like he doesn’t like the name, it is simply that he never expected to hear it come from you again.

“I did not realize that you were so agile and powerful, I was very impressed with what I saw.” One of your fingers trails down his chest, playing in the dip of his v-line before coyly tracing back upwards with each slow word you speak. “That is not to say that I was unaware of your capabilities, you have found great success in protecting me and my kingdom, but watching you was eye opening... and quite arousing.” His breath hitches in a way that gives you more confidence, courage swelling in your chest that helps you ignore the redness of your cheeks.

“Is that so?” Jimin swallows, curiosity lighting his gaze.

You hum in affirmation. “You must work extremely hard to become that skilled, so I thought it appropriate to give you a gift to show my appreciation for all that you do.” Taking a step back, you play with the ribbon of your robe, amused by the sudden change in Jimin’s expression. He watches you like a predator stalking it’s pray, detailing every movement of your nimble fingers with a heaving chest as you move at a snail’s pace to untie your robe. You decide to tease further once the ribbon is finally untied, only revealing the tops of your shoulders from the silk, holding yourself in modesty until it looks like he’s going to go insane before you open the from to reveal yourself.

Jimin feels like he could faint from what he sees when the robe drops. You are decorated in a lacy white lingerie set that is quite transparent, your nipples visible through the designs of the fabric. The bra of the set extends downwards under your cleavage and he feels his hands lifting to rest on your ribs to touch the material, following it delicately until he cups your breasts with his palms. Maybe it is due to the design of this expensive undergarment, but you fill out the bra much more than either of you would have expected, your breasts round and pushing at it in all the right spots. This is the lingerie set that Jin had hidden behind your commissioned painting as part of your wedding gift, and Jimin had completely forgotten that it was in your possession. He chooses not to question how Seokjin knows your body measurements in order to purchase the present. Eyes trailing down, Jimin takes in the equally scandalous panties that adorn your hips, all parts solid white except for the crotch that remains lacy and see-through giving him a view that makes his mouth water.

You look absolutely stunning, and he tells you in as many words as possible.

“Your gift is not yet complete, General.” The look on his face is everything that you had hoped for, and you wish to shock him even further with your next move. Hooking your fingers into the towel at his waist, you unravel it and expose his growing length, sinking down in front of him.

Quickly, he grabs your arm once he realizes what you are doing, preventing you from going lower. You pout up at him. “My Queen, a woman of your status should never kneel on the ground for any man. You must remain dignified.”

“My dignity,” You half scoff at the notion, rising to look him in his beautiful brown eyes. “I have neither dignity nor pride. You have it all, my love; I have given myself to you completely.” You allow yourself to break from your role play just this once, he needs to know that your words are true. If there is anything he should know by now, it is that you hold no reservations toward him. With him, you are equal and you trust him completely. It is not like you have never serviced him before, but he has never seen you on your knees below him due to his own beliefs and you would like to change that tonight. “I want to do this for you.”

This time when you lower yourself, he allows you to drop until your knees rest on the ground. The view he has is undeniably sinful. You can tell how much he enjoys it by how rapidly he hardens in front of your face. But when you look up from your own spot on the floor, you find that your view is equally as jaw dropping. Jimin looks down at you from over his nose, the damp hair on his head sticking to his forehead and dangling over his eyes, shadowing his features into sharp lines. Every inch of his body is chiseled to perfection, displaying the hours of training he has undergone over the years to get to the level of skill you witnessed today, and if it were not for you already kneeling on the marble, your knees would have buckled right from under you. He is like a statue carved by the gods. And he is all yours.

“If a Queen wants her soldiers to keep performing for her she must reward them, and you are the very best, so I will be sure to give you special treatment.” Lightly grasping his member, you take the time to feel how he grows in your grip. Just the feeling of you running your fingers over his plush balls has him almost fully erect, the muscles of his abdominals tensing as you lean forward to slide him into your mouth, caressing the underside of his cock with your tongue without closing your lips just yet. You’ll work him up slowly, you decide, wanting him to savor this rare occasion in hopes that he will allow you to do it again sometime. Your palm smears your saliva around his shaft and starts to steadily pump him up and down, the simple action causing a groan to tear from your lover’s throat.

Jimin does not know where to look in this moment. Should he focus on your hands as the diligently work to pleasure him? Your tongue when it peeks out from your lips to tease at his slit? The dip of your cleavage that lie in his direct line of sight, framed so perfectly by the underwear you don? Or perhaps those smoldering eyes you stare up at him with, those plotting, gorgeous eyes that call to his deepest desires? You look as if you would do anything for him at this moment— you have intentionally put yourself at his feet to show how vulnerable you are willing to be with him, that you trust him to the utmost degree and you would sink this low, literally, to demonstrate that.

“Shit,” Jimin curses, eyes trained on the way your lips wrap around his reddening tip. You sense his hands fidgeting at his sides, so you take them to place on top of your head, nodding encouragingly until he weaves his fingers into your hair. He throbs in your mouth and you fight back a smirk.

Working meticulously, you take the time to circle your tongue around every sensitive place at his cockhead, licking slowly over his frenulum and flicking over his slit as it starts to leak. The flavor is slightly salty and entirely him, and it makes your legs press together from where your knees dig into the polished marble. Your lips and tongue play at his upper half for a while, one of your hands rubbing whimsical patterns along his tensing thigh while the other tends to his aching base, pumping in time with your mouth with a slight twist to your wrist that has his fingers tightening against your scalp.

“Are you enjoying your gift?” You break away to speak, twirling your tongue around the line of saliva that connects you to his tip in the most lewd way possible.

“Yes,” Jimin pants, clearing his throat when his voice comes out raspy. But the sound makes you drip into your designer panties, the flimsy material doing little against your increasing wetness. “How did you become so skilled at this, My Queen? You are such an angel but possess devilish talent with that pretty mouth of yours.”

“I had an excellent teacher.” You wink up at him, hoping he was imaging all the times he guided you when you wished to taste him, becoming more confident as time passed and you no longer feared your gag reflex. You figure now is a good time to demonstrate just how well you absorbed those lessons, you finally sink further down on him until he touches the back of your mouth, collecting your spit to slick him before pushing him deeper and into your throat. Your stomach quivers as you hold back the urge to gag, but he sees none of that because when you look up his head is tossed back in ecstasy and concentration. He must focus so he doesn’t cum so soon.

“Just like that.” Biting into the plush of his bottom lip, Jimin falls into the trance of your movements, bobbing up and down on him with his tip lodged in your throat. The first moan he lets out has a shiver crawling up your spine, deep and loud so it echoes against every surface of the room. Drool slides out of your mouth as you continue to suck him but you pay no mind to it, only focused on the way your lover’s body reacts to you. His chest heaves for breath and you can see perspiration beginning to coat his chest and neck, Adam’s apple bobbing every time he swallows. The hand that was previously occupied with the rest of his length moves to his balls, kneading and massaging the sack gently as more moans pour from his mouth. Your clit throbs the longer you suck on him, his cock now at full length and hardness and feeling so thick and heavy on your jaw that you can’t help but fantasize about feeling it inside you again.

His hips eventually begin to twitch and rock into each of your movements, but you can tell he is restraining himself from bucking into you fully. When his eyes connect with yours again, you nod as best you can, pulling off slightly to take a few deep breaths and kiss along his silky skin. Once you have your breathing back to normal, you poise yourself with your mouth open wide and tongue poking out, the sight of you inviting him into your warmth while dressed so scantly and looking up at him with such confidence making it incredibly difficult for him to keep his composure. Here you are, his Queen, the ruler of an entire kingdom by birth right who possesses such elegance and high esteem, sitting below him and offering your throat for his pleasure. This is something that no one else in the entire world will ever see and he feels something similar to pride swelling in his chest at that fact. He knows what you are silently asking him to do, so he does not keep you waiting a second longer before inserting himself back into your mouth and easing his way in until your nose is nestled in the trimmed hair above his pubic bone.

Curses leave him in a continuous string as he takes time to adjust to the sensation, a lightness filling your head that makes you feel like you are floating through the clouds. And that feeling only increases when he starts to move, pulling his hips back for you to take in air through your nose before thrusting in again. Jimin fucks your mouth slowly at first, warming you up to it before he starts to get a bit rougher and visibly more eager, his lips sucked into his mouth as he glares down at you. In any other context, you would think him angry if he ever peered at anyone this intensely, but now you only feel the pool of arousal that builds in your core and gushes out of you at the intimidating glower. Still, his muscles are rigid with hesitance.

“May I go faster?” He breathes, never pulling out to free your mouth to respond. You moan out an answer as best you can, running your tongue against him in approval until he finally releases his tension and follows the urges of his body. He doesn’t aim deep into you, but his pace is quick, surely bruising your esophagus, yet you cannot bring yourself to be bothered. The sensation is indescribable, his hands cupping the back of your head and the sheer heat of his body almost overrides the lack of oxygen in your lungs— and simply imagining the pleasure he is feeling because of you has electricity shooting down to your core. Jimin has his eyes glued to the sight of his cock disappearing into your mouth, but they quickly shift when your hands find their way to your chest to pull down the bra just enough so your nipples poke out, both hands pushing your breasts together to give him a sight that almost causes him to lose his load right then and there. His hips lose control, stuttering and twitching as his eyes widen comically at the dream-like image of you, and he is forced to pull away after little over a minute of fucking your face. “Fuck-!”

“Is something the matter?” You ask innocently, knees screaming out from your sustained position. The veins in your husband’s hand bulge as he grips himself so tightly his knuckles turn white, his length jumping every time he opens his eyes to look at you. His use of hard profanity is enough to tell you how much you have unraveled him and you revel in the accomplishment.

“Get up here.” He pants, taking your arm in his free hand and helping you to your feet. You hear him click his tongue at the redness of your knees, but don’t have much time to dismiss it before his lips are on yours. Jimin kisses you deeply as if your face is not sloppy with saliva and his precum. He kisses you like it could save lives. And above every filthy thing you have done with him, this kiss is what makes you feel a bashful heat color your cheeks when he pulls you closer.

“Am I to assume I performed well?” You mumble against his lips, eyes crossing slightly to see his smile.

“You were outstanding. So much so that I nearly came down your pretty throat.” Smugly, Jimin unclips your bra, parting from your lips after several minutes of kissing to trace his tongue down your neck until he reaches your chest, forgoing all teasing to wrap his lips around a pert nipple.

“Oh-“ A surprised yelp leaves you and he has to use his strength to keep you from falling over, your legs suddenly feeling like jelly. Your fingers card through his drying hair, tugging at the unbothered man as he has his fun marking and sucking at you. As always, his mouth works miracles, but you have never felt anything like this before. Each swipe of his tongue around your nub has you moaning out his name, when he twists at the other nipple your head falls back in absolute bliss. He’s not doing anything extraordinarily notable, but it is like your body has reached a sensitivity that is completely new to you both. Jimin certainly is enjoying it immensely. His eyes are closed but you can see how they crinkle gleefully at the sides, his cheekbones high almost as if trying to conceal his amusement at your reactions. With puckered lips, he suctions one of your nipples before pulling back to speak.

“I can’t wait,” He grazes his teeth over your other tit before continuing. “-until these fill up with milk for our baby. I’m sure you will look incredible carrying our child inside you— even more amazing than you already look, my love. So round and plump... your cute little womb filled to the brim with my cum and baby.” Your eyes roll when one of his hands slips down your panties to tease at your lips. A growl resonates in his chest at the feel of your wetness. “You like the sound of that, don’t you? What would the people say if they found out that their elegant Queen got soaking wet just from sucking cock and thinking of getting her pussy stuffed full of cum? Hmm? Surely they will know how filthy you are once they see you swollen with my child, walking around the kingdom so shamelessly after getting marked by my seed. They’ll know just how good you’ve been for me, darling.”

“I want them to know I’m yours; I want to be pregnant with your baby so badly!” You sob, hips bucking into his hand as soon as he makes contact with your clit.

He soothes you with soft kisses along your face, ending with a lick to the corner of your mouth as you pant out loud moans for him. “I know, love. The time will come soon enough.”

Once again his lips return to your chest, and the combination of his mouth and fingers has your walls fluttering and clenching around nothing. Even after he removes his hand from your panties to hold you closer to him, you feel the building of an orgasm. Your body is completely taken by his tongue and teeth as they suckle cherry blossoms into your skin. And when his wet fingers travel up to twist at your unattended nipple, you feel your body careening off the edge unexpectedly.

“J-Jimin, I-“ Your sentence is cut short by a long whimper, mind going blank at the pleasure. You are able to feel how your walls snap open and closed, each pulse growing more intense as the high drags on for what seems like an eternity to you. Jimin groans at the sounds you make and he looks on in awe from where he still laves at your breast as you bite down on your lower lip to ground yourself. He doesn’t mind the way you tug at his roots in your bliss. The pain only adds to the throbbing of his cock.

“So sexy,” He murmurs as you regain your senses. You seem embarrassed, unable to meet his eyes, and he questions it.

“I have never-“ Averting your eyes to the ground, you look for words in your scrambled mind.

“You’ve never cum like that before?” For some reason you find it slightly humiliating and you have no idea why. Were you really that sensitive from not having sex with him for a few weeks? Your nipples were never that receptive before. Nodding in agreement, you hide your face until Jimin lifts your chin with his finger. “Do not shy away from me, My Queen. You look gorgeous when you cum.” Before you can process it, his hands are yanking down your ruined panties, drenched all the way through and dripping. Your back connects with the wall next to the mirror as you are pinned against the surface with his weight. His fingers slide over your clit and you jolt, attempting to close your legs, but he is faster and jams his thigh between yours to hold you open. “In fact, you look so good that I want to see you do it again.”

Without warning, he plunges 2 fingers knuckle deep into you, searching with little trouble for that spongey area inside you. You are wet enough to lubricate his fingers until he drips down his hand, the slick part of his palm beginning to rub harshly against your clit when his fingers curl upwards.

“Oh fuck,” You gasp brokenly when he reaches your spot. Feeling you clench, Jimin hums and goes to work massaging the area with the pads of his fingers, pressing his other hand to your lower stomach to increase the pressure. Since the first time you squirted he has been almost obsessed with the sight, working diligently to figure out how to make you do it again. There have been many nights dedicated solely to that cause— nights that you endured with bright red cheeks each time he made fun of your fucked out expression and hoarse voice— it is to the point where he now knows your every weakness and can manipulate your body with mastery. He knows exactly how much pressure you like when his fingers are deep inside you. He knows just the right way to massage that sensitive area to get you to fall apart again even if you feel overstimulated. He knows how to move his entire arm to hit that spot each time without fail, his technique flawless as he moves rapidly inside your clenching heat. Almost like a balloon filling with water, you feel another high building up in your core frighteningly fast and the lewd squelch coming from between your legs soon becomes the loudest noise in the room.

“Let go for me,” Jimin encourages into your skin, burying his face in the crook of your neck and panting hot breaths. It is easy to tell how easily he gets himself worked up when pleasuring you. His hard, wet cock twitches incessantly against your thigh, teasingly close to where you want him, and the feeling alone has you galloping closer to your second release. “You look so beautiful like this, pushed against a wall and taking my fingers. I bet you are just starving for my cock, aren’t you, My Queen? I’ll give it to you right after you cum for me. I want you to show me how badly you want it by soaking my arm with your sweet juices.”

The filthy words he feeds you only add to the hunger you feel for him. One of your legs lifts to wrap around his waist, pulling him closer as the balloon in your core continues to grow. Your heart is in your ears, beating rapidly, and you have no other choice but to listen to him and release your pleasure. With one synchronized prod of his fingers and circle around your clit, you descend into depraved ecstasy and let the balloon pop. You black out slightly, ears ringing and body numb to the world except for everywhere that your husband touches you, but you are aware of the satisfied moan he gives at your obedience. Whispers of delicate praises tickle your chest as he rests his forehead on your collarbone to watch you soil the floors and his lower half with your clear cum. The sound of it splashing and splattering against each nearby surface is quite embarrassing but you can’t bring yourself to think of it when your legs are shaking this hard and your body is tingling with joy.

“Good girl,” You hear Jimin groan, pulling his fingers from you to wrap his arms around your waist so you don’t topple over on your wobbly leg. He figures it may just be easier to keep you up if both of your legs are off the wet floor, so he moves your other leg to wind around his waist before carrying you out of the room and away from the mess to the bed.

Your glazed eyes take him in as he stands above you, a hand running through his disheveled hair as he studies you as well. His face is flushed and sweaty and his chest rises and falls quickly, but you’re sure that is only partly due to the effort he has just put in. There are claw marks on his shoulders and you gasp. You hadn’t realized you were gripping him so tightly, but he doesn’t seem to mind the marks at all, focused entirely on the throbbing member between his legs. Your eyes drop down his toned body to where his hand leisurely strokes up and down his shaft, purposely avoiding the tip to keep himself on the edge. It is almost purple with built up pressure, likely painful by this point, and you will yourself to move your weak limbs to reach out for him, pulling him closer to invite him between your open legs.

He takes his place at your center, one hand pressing into the soft mattress beside your head as he leans over you. You want him to kiss you so badly, but you want him inside you even more. He acquiescences this by sliding into you smoothly before swooping down for your lips.

“Mm~ Jimin!” The thick girth of his shaft stretches you perfectly, ignorant of your ticklish sensitivity as it searches for the deepest spot within you. In no time at all Jimin’s hips are flush with your ass, lips and tongue swallowing your moans into his own mouth.

“(Y/n)-“ He moans in response. Eyes squeezed tight, he forces himself to remain still. “I lose my breath every time I take this dripping pussy of yours. I’ll never get used to it.” Flattered, you hide your face with his by pulling him in for another kiss. The two of you stay like this for a long while, adjusting to each other’s bodies and basking in the intimacy of the moment.

“My love, please move.” You whine when the stillness becomes unbearable, yet you grieve at the loss of his heat when he leans away to pull you closer to the edge of the bed.

The first thrust of his hips already has you squirming. Your slick makes it so easy for him to pump into you that he barely has to put in any effort at all, his hips snapping sharply into you from the beginning. You let your legs fall farther apart at his sides and bite your lip when Jimin’s eyes land between your thighs, staring intently at the place where your bodies connect. You’re sure he can see everything, from the way your lips spread open around his wide member, to the shiny streaks of your arousal that quickly slick the inside of your thighs. It’s like you can feel his gaze caressing you, your body feeling sensitive everywhere he studies. You moan unabashedly at the sensation.

“Do you like it, My Queen? Does this feel good?” He prompts, eager for your praise.

“Y-yes, I-“ It has been so long without his cock inside you that you can’t think clearly. All you can do is shout his name and cling to the bedsheets as he wraps his arms around your thighs and holds them flush against his front. The angle makes you stutter, his tip touching somewhere sensitive that has your thighs squeezing closed. “P-please, harder. Use me.”

“Keep these fucking legs open.” Jimin growls, thrusting more harshly now. You attempt to follow his command and unclench your thighs, but they shake violently as soon as they part and it takes immense focus for you to hold them there. Looking up at your lover, you see the dark look that overtakes his features, dominance radiating off of him as he gets lost in you. You haven’t seen this look on him in a long while, but you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t sexy. He looks like he wants to eat you alive, devour you whole and leave not a morsel of you left until he’s had his fill.

Watching Jimin gain so much pleasure from you takes you to another level of bliss. His fingers dig into your thighs as he pounds his cock within your depths, determined to pull more desperate sounds from your throat, and his teeth bite down on his plush bottom lip in concentration. Sweat now trickles down his brow from the humid heat of the room, undoing the bath he took prior and replacing the soap with the scent of sex that leaks from his pores. This man is undeniably the hottest person you have ever laid eyes on and you can’t help but clench around him at the visuals he’s giving you.

Feeling you clench, Jimin moans, dragging his eyes up your figure until they land on your breasts. They jolt with every harsh thrust he gives you and dance flirtatiously in front of him— he can’t look away. Suddenly, he leans down and snatches up your hands, pinning them above your head with his fingers intertwined with yours, nearly drooling at how delectable you look under him. Your breasts certainly look different, the shape has become rounder and they jiggle slightly more than he can remember, but Jimin doesn’t think much of this as he focuses on delivering hard strokes. You shiver when his tongue licks a stripe up your damp neck, sucking a spot just below your ear before nibbling the lobe. He knows this is a weak spot for you, and just as he expected, your walls tighten around him once more. You push against him, trying to free your hands, but he has them locked sturdily in his grasp, silently forcing you to submit to him. You probably want to wind your fingers in his hair or grip onto his biceps, but he won’t give up an ounce of power at the moment. Not while he is ravaging you like this. So you settle for squeezing his hands and soaking in their warmth, gasping breathlessly as he takes you. You are entirely at his mercy and you absolutely love it.

One of his hands moves down to grip your thigh and push it open, unlocking you from where you have been clenched around his hips. Both of your wrists now held in one hand and still pinned against the sheets. The bed frame creaks noisily as he changes pace, abandoning his hard and fast thrusts for a slow and deep grind that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head. Something feels different about you, about the way you feel around him as the head of his cock licks at your cervix. It’s softer than usual and open for him, almost begging for his sperm, and he thinks this is the perfect time to get you pregnant. He aims to stay deep inside you. Each powerful movement is purposeful, everything down to the slight arch of his back that allows his pubic bone to grind into your clit, and you feel like you’re going crazy.

“Oh fuck, Jimin! I’m close again!” Your voice is strained in your throat and he smirks at the sound. He can feel it, the swell of your walls around him as you near your third high, and he swears it’s tighter than usual. Your muscles begin to tense up and push against him, preparing for your inevitable release. And just because you feel like pushing his buttons today, you allow your thighs to attempt to squeeze closed again.

“What did I say?!” The depth of his voice shocks you briefly and your eyes snap open to look at him. His jaw is tight as his stare bores into you with deadly intensity. “Keep your fucking legs open. Or do I have to hold them for you?” You let out a whimper, not daring to move your hands from their raised position when he drops your wrists to push open your other thigh, leaving you dripping and exposed in front of him. Your skin dimples where his fingertips dig into you— though he is careful not to bruise you— and he seems to hit even deeper like this. “You used to be so well behaved, My Queen. Are you acting out just to get a rise out of me?”

You dodge the question. “Please, Jimin, please make me cum again.” You can hardly hear anything aside from the slap of his balls against your ass and the squelch of his cock pushing through your warm walls.

“You think you deserve to cum? What will you do for it?” A dark chuckle leaves his throat when he sees you genuinely thinking of a response, biting so hard on your lip that he fears it might bleed.

“Anything.” You breathe. You’re unsure of how long you can hold back your orgasm, he feels so good fucking you like this, pushing his whole length into you without mercy.

“Anything, darling?” A lecherous grin plasters itself onto his mouth at your expression. “Hm, are you just saying that because you’re desperate? I can tell it feels good, you’re leaking all over me. Do you like it when I go deep like this?” You nod with a whine, eyelids pressed closed to hold back from cumming. “Open your eyes. Look at how deep I am inside you.” Peeling your eyes open, you peer down at yourself upon his command and see where his own eyes are glued. A small bulge presses against your lower abdomen every time he pushes in, disappearing when he pulls out only to reappear with the next thrust. Neither of you can take your eyes off of the sight, absolutely mesmerized by it.

“Please, I’m so close!” You groan loudly.

“You say you’ll do anything, my love?”

“Yes!”

“Will you be a good girl and let me put my baby in you? Let me cum right here against this fertile womb and get you pregnant with my baby?” The effect of his dirty talk is immediate and you clamp down on him, barely holding back as his hand rests over the bulge in your tummy, adding the tiniest amount of pressure to it.

“I will! Please!” Tears wet your doe eyes as you look up at him, digging your nails into the soft sheets above your head to keep from moving your arms from their position. He notes this with a hum, speeding up his hips in reward for your obedience.

“I know you will. Now cum.” On command, your body lets go of all the pent up pressure in your core, gripping onto his length with unbearable strength. Your walls pulsate with so much force that you nearly push him out, and when he finally pulls out of you, you squirt once again over the ledge of the bed. His hands on your legs do nothing to quell the wild tremors that overtake you and the streams of tears that flow over the apples of your cheeks. You are truly a sight to see, flushed red and glowing with the aftermath of yet another ferocious orgasm. Your sensitivity once again shocks him into silence. He didn’t even need to touch your clit for you to climax.

His stiff member bobs like a flagpole in the wind as he takes you in. It’s so hard that it stands straight up against his abdomen, jumping with its own pulse. When you open your eyes it is the first thing you see, and your body heats up again.

“Can you take any more, my love?” Jimin questions with concern, tracing his hands up your waist soothingly.

“Always. I can always take more of you.” Despite the screaming in your limbs, you sit up abruptly and pull him down to the bed, rolling the two of you over as you lock lips. Jimin seems surprised but not opposed to the shift in power dynamics, sensing that you want to take the reins for now. Your fingers wrap around his base and line him up with your slit, showing not even a moment’s hesitation before dropping down and knocking the wind out of both of you.

“You do not have to-“

“No, Jimin, I want to. I am supposed to be treating you after all, let me make you feel good.”

Fuck, you’re hot. Not only do you look amazing on top of him, but your pussy feels much hotter than usual. And it’s so tight, as if it’s greedy for every inch of him and eager to suck out his release. He won’t last long like this, that is for certain. His hands support you as you shift into a squat above him— and maybe it’s the novelty of the position, but he swears it’s never felt this good before.

“I imagined this so many times, but I never thought I’d actually get to see you riding me like this.” He confesses in a strained breath. You press your palms into his chest to lift yourself up, lowering yourself experimentally before repeating the action with less restraint.

“Am I living up to your expectations?” It could just be the angle, but his cock feels unbelievably deep inside you, and you half expect it to hurt yet you feel no pain. There is not even the slightest bit of discomfort as he nudges at your womb and you attribute this to the three incredible orgasms you have already reached tonight.

“God, yes.” He can’t look away from where you impale yourself on him, your shaky legs spread wide to let him see every second of the erotic display. From the way you grip him every time you lift up, to the strings of your arousal and cum that weave a sticky web between your ass and his pelvis, and even to the way your clit swallows in delight, he almost goes lightheaded as he takes it all in. His throat bobs as he gulps, back arching off the sheets under your warm hands.

“Faster?”

You don’t wait for a response before you start speeding up. He’s close, you can feel it in the way he swells against your walls and see it in the way his neck and chest color that pretty pink color you adore so much. Your limbs are aching for relief and it takes all of your remaining energy to keep up your efforts, but you wouldn’t dream of stopping. No, you are determined to bring Jimin to his end no matter what. The high pitched moans he lets out for your ears only are more than enough motivation to keep going, but you are working for a prize much more valuable that the lovely sounds he makes for you. You want his cum. You want it so badly that it is the only thing you can think of, so despite the pain in your fragile legs as you bounce yourself as hard and fast as you can, you continue for him. You’ve never been afraid to put in a little effort, and this is something you are willing to work for.

“(Y/n), I’m gonna cum!” Jimin’s dialect shines through strongly as he grits his teeth through the pleasure you bombard him with. You know it must feel different for him, the pleasure is always so much more intense when you aren’t the one doing all the work, and this is the first time you’ve pinned him down like this. It’s the first time you’ve dropped yourself down to clamp your knees on either side of him and wrap yourself around his upper body as you pant into his neck, leaving sloppy kisses and coaxing him toward his high with whispered words. Now that the roles are reversed, you can see just how wrecked he is for you— the usually composed king now lies spread in a heap of matted hair, sweaty skin, and bitten lips, completely speechless and grasping onto your thighs in a desperate bid to hold onto his sanity. “Please, I- I-“

“Cum for me, My King,” You are sure your body has just about reached its limit, but you feel no pain or fatigue when you look into your lover’s eyes and find an unraveled man. “I promised I would take your cum and let you get me pregnant. Give it all to me, my love, I want it. Cum inside me, Jimin.”

Bucking his hips, Jimin loses all control and throws his head back in anticipation as he aids your movements with his strong arms. When he feels your lips on his chin, he leans forward and allows you to swallow his groans of pleasure, both of you starved for breath but unwilling to pull away from the kiss. Everything you have done for him tonight— wearing sexy lingerie, getting on your knees to please him, squirting not once but twice— culminates into this one moment and he doesn’t think he can take take it. It’s all too much. With three sharp thrusts from both of you, he climaxes with a shout, lifting you up along with him as his hips rise off the bed.

“Oh fuck!” Maybe you shouldn’t feel this way, but you giggle giddily at the state of rapture he’s in because of you. The veins in his neck pop out of his skin as he dumps spurt after spurt of his semen into you, and you think this is the biggest load he’s ever given you. It takes a long time for him to come down from his high and for a moment you wonder if he will be okay with the way he twitches and shivers as your hips roll to a stop.

He doesn’t seem to mind your weight resting on top of him, nor does he react to the light kisses you press to his drenched skin. He does, however, wrap his arms securely around you when you shift to roll off of him, holding you on top of his body until you both have caught your breath and can open your heavy eyelids enough to look at each other with tired smiles.

“I love you.” You grin, running your digits through his disheveled mop of hair.

“I love you more, My Queen.” He pulls you down for another kiss to silence whatever rebuttal you surely have prepared at the tip of your tongue because he knows what you will say. And the thought makes his heart swell.

It seems like hours pass before both of you can work up the strength to part from each other. You have to be carried to the bathroom because your limbs feel far too weak and Jimin is not yet willing to let you go from his embrace. He is mindful of the puddle that you left on the floor as he carries you to the bath, and both of you sink into the depths together to wash away all your sins. You stay like that until your toes are pruned and the water is slightly cooler than lukewarm, the time flying by as you talk freely about everything you can think of: your hopes for your future family, your day with Jackson and Lena, gossip about Lilian and her whereabouts— she has not yet returned to the lodge even at this late hour and you hope that she is safe, but more importantly, you hope that her night with that handsome male servant ends similarly to yours. She could afford to take tonight and tomorrow off to unwind a bit, you feel a tad guilty that her needs may be neglected in the kingdom as she tends to you nonstop in the castle. Sleep finds you both easily and you cannot drop the smile from your cheeks as you cuddle up with the man you love.

This afternoon would have been perfect if not for the way you were feeling. Sparse clouds float through the sunny blue sky, the mountains surrounding you blossoming with vibrancy, but the beautiful scenery is dulled in your bleary eyesight. The lightheadedness you’d felt upon arrival two days ago has returned, along with a pounding headache that dampens your mood.

Jimin and Jackson walk ahead of their queens, talking casually as though they had been friends for years. The sight makes your heart grow warm and you use it to distract you from your discomfort as you walk along the outside pathways to a different section of the enormous castle. Lena notices the shift in your demeanor fairly quickly, commenting that you look less energized than yesterday.

“Did you not sleep well last night?” She implores, her brow creased with worry.

“I had a very restful sleep last night, but it feels like my body is dragging behind.” You try to keep yourself from rubbing at your face. Royals are not supposed to show weakness and vulnerability in public, and even though you are only surrounded by Kyungsoo and a few of Lena’s servants, you wish to uphold your appearances. “I do not feel sick, however, so I do not think it is caused by illness.”

“Would there be any other reason for you to feel fatigued? We did spend quite a considerable amount of time in the heat yesterday.”

“Well,” The guards and servants lag behind you far enough for them not to hear your conversation, but you still lower your voice in modesty. “Jimin and I were intimate late into the evening...” You figure your late night activities are also the reason for the tenderness you feel in your breasts, your tight undergarments causing slight pain as they bind your chest.

“Ah, I see!” She beams back at you, giggling. “You were not used to such strenuous exercise. I have experience with that— one time Jackson kept me in bed for so long that I nearly fainted from dehydration! Jimin seems like he would have a lot of stamina, be careful with that one.” The wiggle of her eyebrows lifts your spirits a bit. Speaking of such lewd subjects is seen as unladylike, especially for royalty, but you find yourself uncaring of that when you are with Lena. You have never had a woman of your same age and status to converse with before, no one could ever relate or felt comfortable enough to speak freely with you. This closeness you have with her is a novel feeling— and it is likely that Jimin feels the same with Jackson.

“I’ll be sure to be mindful of that.” You smile, staring at the back of his head. Your husband turns to look at you when he feels your eyes as he passively listens to the other King recall a story, sending a wink your way before returning his attention to the man beside him.

“Is there any other possible explanation for your symptoms?” Redirecting your gaze to Lena, you catch how her eyes flicker down to your stomach, a small smile on her lips. As soon as you realize her meaning, you stiffen, legs nearly bringing you to a halt.

“No,” Your eyes fall to the ground. “I... do not think it is pregnancy. Before I departed from home I was examined by my doctor and she-“ You sigh. “I am not pregnant.”

“Hmm. Well, I have been pregnant 4 times and have experienced many symptoms with each of my children. What you described to me sounds familiar. Do not dismiss the idea just yet, (Y/n).”

Before you can even open your mouth to form a reply, you are hit with a wave of dizziness that makes the world spin. Kyungsoo is by your side in an instant, stabilizing you as someone asks if you are alright. You are led to a nearby bench where all of the servants crowd around you, Jimin rushing over when he hears the commotion.

“(Y/n)?! What’s the matter?” The world spins a little less when your eyes are closed, so you do not look up at him, but you can imagine the almost sickly worry covering his lovely face. You know he has been especially traumatized by the events of your wedding and you never want to put him in a situation like that again, but you can’t help the way your body feels. Distantly, you hear Jackson order a servant to get the doctor, footsteps skittering away as he comes to squat down in front of you.

“Are you ill?” Jackson’s voice calms the anxiety you weren’t aware you were feeling. It is frightening not knowing what’s going on with your own body. Lena’s words ring in your mind.

“N-no, it is just the altitude. I just need to rest for a minute.” Your excuse is almost convincing, but no one moves— except for Jimin, who moves closer to you on the bench to support your back. After a few minutes, your head begins to clear, though your vision remains blurry. Eyes silently peer at you from all sides and you can feel them hot on your skin, embarrassment now the prominent emotion you feel. “Please do not worry about me, I am fine, really.”

“Are you certain? We can rest here for a little while longer.” Jimin suggests gently, but for some reason this irritates you.

“I said I’m fine.” You snap, earning an even more concerned look from him. Just then, the doctor approaches, slightly out of breath and sweating. “I don’t need a doctor! I’m feeling better already. Look.” You no longer feel dizzy anymore so you attempt to stand, rising quickly from the seat to come face to face with Jackson as he rises as well. Jimin still has his arm around you, both men watching you closely. “See?” But as soon as you’re stable on your feet, the spinning returns as if on cue and you come toppling forward into Jackson’s arms, everything going black.

“You don’t need to do this, Jackson, I told you I feel okay now.” You grumble as he carries you to the infirmary inside the castle. He took you into his arms without hesitation when you fell, offering to carry you because Jimin was rapidly descending into distress. While you were only out for about 2 minutes before you regained consciousness, everyone had reacted as if you were dying.

Looking at your husband now, you can see how unnerved he has become. Because he is a General who has seen many battles, he has trained himself not to react emotionally in stressful situations— but you can read the look in his eyes as clear as day as he walks alongside you, watching you more closely than what is in front of him.

“That is what you said earlier, and then you fainted immediately afterwards. Do not worry, I don’t mind carrying you. I needed a little exercise today anyway.” Always a jokester, you crack a smile at his comment, rolling your eyes as the doctor leads him into a room to rest you on the bed. The doctor works quickly, taking a blood sample from you and leaving for the lab, having already taken your vitals when you initially passed out. “We’ll be waiting outside.” With that, Jackson takes Lena’s shaky hand and exits the room, leaving you in bed and Jimin hovering over you awkwardly.

“Please sit down, you are making me nervous.” You breathe. He blinks and nods absently, perching himself on the edge of the bed next to you. “Are you okay?”

“I should be asking you that.” He laughs dryly. Jimin bites his lip when you give him a sympathetic gaze and take his hand. Your words from the argument you had nearly a month ago echo in his head. This is a chance for him to open up to you about his emotions and seek your comfort, your expression shows that you are expecting it of him, so he takes a deep breath. There’s no use hiding his emotions from you. “Truth be told, I am a wreck. You fainting brought back some rather unpleasant memories.” He confesses.

“I’m sorry.” You really are apologetic, stressing him out is the last thing you ever wanted to do.

“It is not your fault. I just worry about you so much. I cannot bear to lose you, my love, and I feel so helpless when things like this happen, it feels like I always have to wait for others to come to rescue you.”

“Would you like to become a doctor so you are more prepared, then?” He wasn’t expecting that response and snaps his head up to look at you when you laugh. “You cannot control everything that happens to me, Jimin. It is okay to let others help. All I need is for you to stay by my side, your presence is more than enough.” He nods at this, accepting the kiss you plant on his cheek and squeezing your hands.

Long seconds of silence pass as you wait for the doctor to return. Then, a sudden thought pops into your mind that makes you groan aloud.

“Lilian is going to be pissed at me.” You can’t help but chuckle at the circumstances.

“Why is that?”

“I told her to take off today and enjoy her time here, but she was worried about me so she initially refused. I assured her of my health this morning before we left. I can only imagine to look on her face once she finds out what happened.” You do feel a bit bad, Lilian knows you better than anyone and it is clear that she could tell something was off, but you convinced her that her instincts were wrong and now you find yourself in the infirmary. She will surely put herself down over this incident because of her absence when you most needed her.

“You can worry about her after we confirm that you are okay. For now, let us focus on this.” Just then, the doctor enters the room again, coming to stand at the bottom of the bed as you and Jimin look up at them with expectant eyes. Your heart pounds in your chest. You’ve become so used to hearing bad news from doctors, you are almost conditioned to be nervous and guarded around them.

“(Y/n), I have determined the cause of your sudden collapse.” Jimin squeezes your hand tighter and you can feel the sweat on his fingertips. “It appears that you are pregnant! Congratulations! The blood tests showed high levels of-“

“Pardon?” You interject with a raspy voice. Your brain is having a hard time processing the words and you blink slowly for a few seconds, unaware of Jimin’s shell shocked expression. “I- H-how can this be? My physician tested me right before I left and she said I was not pregnant.”

“Well, it is entirely possible to get false negative results, especially when it is early in the pregnancy. I don’t think it reflects poorly on your physician, these things just happen sometimes and are completely out of our control. But looking at my test results and the symptoms you have been experiencing, I am certain that you are about 6 weeks pregnant.”

“B-but I bled last month.”

“For how many days?”

“One or two...”

“Then that was likely implantation bleeding, which is to be expected. Dizziness and even fainting are also fairly common symptoms, so there is no particular need to worry about today’s incident— though I recommend that you make sure to get adequate rest and nutrition to avoid complications in the future. Once again, congratulations.”

Finally, you drag your gaze over to your husband who has been silent since the doctor appeared, and his eyes are filled to the brim with tears when they connect with yours.

“You- (Y/n), you’re finally pregnant!” He whispers, and the way his voice cracks causes the dam to break within yourself and all of your emotions come flooding out. Before you know it you’re wrapped in his embrace, both of you simultaneously sobbing and laughing into each other’s necks from pure joy and surprise as the doctor excuses themselves from the room. It is like all of the building frustration from the past several months has been crushing you slowly and now that weight has been lifted, allowing you to breathe freely for the first time. Jimin feels similarly. He has been holding back so many of his emotions since you first started trying to get pregnant and that has taken a tremendous toll on his mind and body, but for the first time, he can finally release those emotions and let himself feel the heaviness of it all. He is crying harder than you are, soaking the top of your dress as you cradle his head to you and hold him there. His hands ghost over your waist and lower abdomen so delicately, as if protecting the growing life inside of you.

When you’ve both gotten yourselves together enough to allow Jackson and Lena to visit, they rush in without hesitation.

“Is everything okay?” Lena is by your side first, immediately noticing your red and puffy eyes. You’re a little bit hesitant to tell her because you know she’ll gloat about her “sixth sense”.

“Yes, I’m alright. We just found out that I am pregnant.” The room erupts into noise, the two of them sounding like an entire circus as Jackson nearly jumps on Jimin in a bear hug and Lena squeals excitedly beside you.

“I knew it! You dismissed me so offhandedly and it turns out that I was right! I have a sixth sense for these things, you know; you should trust me more often.” Just as expected.

“And here you were, just telling me how worried you were about not yet yielding an heir to the throne,” Jackson throws a heavy arm over Jimin’s shoulder. “I suppose we should celebrate before you depart in the morning. I will throw a lovely ball tonight in your honor!”

“Oh, I must oversee the preparations then! Get some rest, (Y/n), and congratulations again!” And just like that, the couple is gone, rushing back out of the room and leaving you and your husband giggling.

“I am sorry, Lilian.” You apologize for what feels like the thousandth time. She continues to pout as she helps load your belongings into the carriage, barely sparing you a glance.

“I knew I should have stayed; I had a feeling something would happen.” She turns to scowl, not necessarily at you but it is in your direction. “I cannot believe I missed such a huge announcement as well! Both Jackson and Lena found out before me, this is so unfair.”

“You sound like a child,” You snicker, taking Kyungsoo’s hand as he helps you into the carriage behind Jimin.

“Yes, well I think I am allowed to throw a tantrum just this once.” You catch Kyungsoo crack a grin at her, the first time you’ve seen any emotion from him, and it brings a smile to your own face.

“If it makes you feel any better, Kyungsoo found out after Jackson and Lena, too.” Jimin comments, taking your hand and pulling you into his side.

“It does not make me feel better because he still found out before me!”

The sun is still low in the sky but slowly rises as you depart from the kingdom. Once you return to the castle, there are many duties that you must take care of, and many traditional processes you will have to go through now that you are pregnant— you are carrying a possible future heir to the throne after all. But you have never been happier. For now it still feels surreal, even though you have waited nearly a year for this moment, but as soon as the people of your kingdom come to greet you and celebrate the news of your conception, the reality of the situation will hit and you are sure you will be overwhelmed with new challenges. Pregnancy is not an easy thing, but at least you will have Jimin with you to help you through it all, just as he has always done. You rest your head on his shoulder with a mischievous grin.

“So Lilian, how was your date the other night? You seemed rather cozy with that young man at the ball yesterday evening.”

“It was not a date!”

[smells-like-mettaton]

soriel, 1 (chocolate) for the ask game?

Like a Box of Chocolates

Rating: G Word Count: 2734 Read on AO3: here

---

"Ok. I brought a few choices," Sans said while sitting with his back to the door. He pulled a plastic sack full of chocolate and chocolate-adjacent treats out from under his shirt.

"Oh, you did not have to do that." The voice behind the door sounded embarrassed.

"It's no big deal." He shrugged instinctively, though she wouldn't be able to see it. "Not like I candy things like this for you very often."

The lady laughed, even though the pun was a stretch. She was a great audience like that.

"I cannot argue with that. After all, it is the choco-thought that counts."

Sans let out a wheeze. Man, she had him beat in the bad jokes department. He needed to up his game.

"What can I say, I'm a sweet guy." That joke would work better if she could see his wink.

"You certainly are, my friend."

Sans blinked. He hadn't been prepared for the genuine warmth in her voice. Now he felt something like a melted chocolate himself.

"Uh. You'd better wait and make sure I didn't pick out garbage before you say that." He chuckled nervously and spread out the chocolates in the snow.

"Alright. Hit me with your best choco-shot."

He laughed out loud at that one too. She could really squeeze some mileage out of chocolate puns.

"First off we have the MTT-Brand Chocolate Mettaton. Which is exactly what it sounds like. Chocolate in the shape of everyone's favorite robot superstar." He scanned the back of the wrapper. "Contains sequins and glitter, but it's still monster food, so probably won't cause any more indigestion than Temmie Flakes. Still, wouldn't blame ya if you passed on that."

The lady laughed. "I do not know this 'Mettaton,' but he sounds like someone…"

Her voice trailed off, the way it always did when she neared a personal topic. It seemed to be happening more and more often lately. Sans didn't know if that was a good sign, or if he needed to do a better job of distracting her.

"Someone I know would have liked that," she finished clumsily.

"Welp. It's yours, then." He attempted to slide it under the door.

Attempted. The thick block of chocolate wouldn't fit through the narrow space.

"What are my other options?" The lady asked, not seeming to hear his failure.

(Or just ignoring it. The way they always ignored things they didn't want to acknowledge.)

Oh well. He'd deal with that later, if she wanted to.

He picked up the next box and rattled it. It looked thin enough to fit under the door.

"I think this one's called, uh, pocket?” He couldn’t tell for sure, since the box was labeled in a language he didn’t recognize. Where did Alphys get this stuff? “A pal gave it to me. They’re like chocolate-covered sticks, I think."

"Not precisely what I was looking for, but I would love to try it regardless," she said. "If I am allowed to have both options, I mean. If not, I should probably stick with the Em-Tee-Tee."

Sans bit back a snort. So she hadn't heard after all. That made this a lot more awkward.

"Do you wanna hear the other options first? Wouldn't want ya to have any regrets."

"Oh! There are more?"

She sounded as surprised as a kid finding an extra fry in the bottom of their Grillby's bag. He couldn't help grinning.

"Yup. Next up is a chocolate spider donut—”

“Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders?” The voice seemed on the verge of laughter again.

His eyesockets widened. “Uh… welp. Guess you don’t need the whole spiel, huh?”

“There is a spider bakesale right around the corner from my home,” the lady explained. “I believe they are saving for a… ‘heated limo’? To travel safely through Snowdin. I wish I could help them, but I did not think to take much gold when I…”

Another dead end. That was fine, Sans could piece together enough. Not that her personal life was any of his business, anyway.

“If it makes ya feel any better, they really raked me over the coals for this one.”

“It does not!” came her quick reply. “I only asked for a chocolate bar. Not for you to spend money that you need on me.”

Geez, this lady was too good for him. As if Sans ever really went out of his way for anyone.

Except Papyrus, but he was family. And sometimes Grillby, if he felt bad about failing to pay his tab for too long. And Alphys, but he owed her for screwing off after space-time blew up in their faces.

And now, the lady behind the door. The lady he didn’t owe anything to, except a few good laughs.

Who was he kidding? Those laughs were more important to him than anything.

“Eh, it just cost me one day of selling ‘dogs. Donut worry about it.”

“Very well. Since it was for a good cause, I will not grill you any further. But please tell me that was the last chocolate you purchased for me.”

“It’s the last one I purchased.” He grinned. While she couldn’t see his expression, she must have heard the but in his voice.

“Please tell me you did not steal any chocolate for me.”

“Geez, lady, what do you take me for? I’d never commit petty thievery.”

“Well, that is reassuring.”

“Yep. Gotta save room for the real high-dollar crimes. Like the illegal hot dog stand.”

The voice behind the door went silent. He wished he could see her face now more than ever. His own grin slowly slid from his skull.

“Everyone knows about it,” he reassured her. “If the King really wanted to shut me down, he’d have done it a long time ago.”

“Oh, I am not judging you for that. I am sure the law is rigged against you if the King has any say in it.” Her voice was surprisingly bitter.

His real problem was that he couldn’t ever find the necessary documents to get licensed in food preparation. His birth certificate was presumably in whatever alternate dimension his old man had blasted them out of.

“You are judging me for something, though,” he realized. The chill of the snow seeped into his bones, but he didn’t dare adjust his position. Somehow he felt that if he moved, she would disappear.

“I am not. I was only thinking about…” She sighed. “It is complicated. There was a time when I could have helped you, but it is long past.”

“Help me? Look, lady, the ‘dog stand is fine. Promise. Better than fine, since I don’t gotta pay taxes on it.”

She chuckled at that.

“Very well. Forgive a silly old lady for worrying.”

“Done.” He smiled, settling back against the door more comfortably.

He should’ve known she’d have a problem with his illegal activities, though. She was a classy lady, and he was… him. Why had he even brought it up? It wasn’t a great joke. Did he really just want her to know?

Eh, whatever. She wasn’t mad, so no harm done, right?

“I would like to know how you acquired this other chocolate, if it was not through your sticky fingers.” She sounded like she was grinning.

“Huh? Oh.” He blinked and dug out the last chocolate of the bunch. Blue dusted his cheeks. “QC—that’s the lady who runs the shop in town—gave ‘em to me for free. They’re called, uh, kisses.”

QC had a knowing look in her eyes when she’d offered the bag of chocolates to him. It was his own fault for implying they were for a girl. Everyone already thought he screwed around in the woods on his shifts, and with the way gossip travelled in a small town, everyone at Grillby’s would be asking about his girlfriend tonight.

“Kisses,” the lady behind the door echoed. “This is not one of your jokes, is it?”

“Not this time. Sorry to disappoint.” His grin felt too tight. “They’re, uh, tiny chocolates. Kinda cone-shaped? QC makes ‘em herself, so they’ve gotta be good.”

“Oh.” Oddly, the voice did sound disappointed. Sans couldn’t imagine why. Not like he could kiss her through the door, even if he had lips. And even if there was some unlikely timeline where she wanted a kiss from him.

He wanted to thump his skull back against the door, but there was no point in worrying her like that.

“In that case, I will take the kisses. They will be perfect for…”

He was sure she would leave it at that. Cover up with some non sequitur.

So his eyesockets went wide when she said, “for the anniversary of my child’s passing.”

“Oh.” He let out a strangled little laugh. “I—geez, I’m sorry. If I’d known—”

“You would have what? Spent even more money on this silly old lady, who cannot even leave to buy her child’s favorite chocolate?” Her voice was firm. “No. I thought you deserved to know, after the trouble you went to, and because you shared your own secret with me today.”

“My ‘dog stand is hardly a secret,” he said, still feeling a little shaky. She had a kid? A dead kid?

Well, who in the Underground didn’t have skeletons in their closet? Metaphorically or literally. She was still his best friend. If she wanted his pity, she would’ve said something sooner.

“Regardless,” she said. “It is in the past. Forget it, if you wish. But please do not treat me any differently.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said sincerely. If there was one thing he was good at, it was maintaining the status quo. “So, uh. These chocolates. I kind of wanted you to have all of ‘em, if that’s alright with you.”

“It would be rude to refuse a gift, would it not?” She sounded like she was smiling again, to his relief.

“There’s just one problem. Uh. Don’t think they’re all gonna fit under the door.” He rapped on the stone surface with his knuckle for emphasis.

“I did not assume they would. The recipe I gave you before hardly passed through.”

Sans blinked. “Then you—huh?”

“I will open the door just a fraction. It can only be done from the inside.” She paused, like she was gathering a breath. “I would ask that you do not look. I promise I will not peek, either.”

Sans’s ribcage tightened. She was going to open the door. She would be right there, with no stone between them.

The thought opened a desperate floodgate within him. He hadn’t realized just how badly he wanted to see her, to know her, to live off of more than just scraps and unfinished sentences.

She once had a child. She had some kind of beef against the King. She wanted to give charity to spiders, but didn’t have enough money. All these facts he filed away, tucking them into the grooves in his ribcage.

It would be enough. He’d duct tape those gates shut again, if he had to. He wasn’t going to betray the trust she’d shown him.

“Got it. You don’t wanna be smitten by my good looks, I understand,” he joked.

(He had a feeling it would be the other way around, if anything. Not that quality of jokes translated to quality of appearance—he would know. If it did, he’d have biceps like his brother.)

“It would be tragic. Much too high a price for you to handsome chocolate to me.”

“Heh, I’m sure you’re a door-able too. But I’ll keep my sockets shut, since our friendship hinges on it.”

That got a raucous laugh out of her, the kind that started off high-pitched and quickly became something of a snorting bleat. That sound was sweeter than chocolate to him.

...Man, his pals at Grilby’s would be right to dunk on him. He was a massive dork.

“Alright,” she said once she caught her breath, “if you are ready, my friend…”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “Better choco-late than never, huh?”

That one only got a snort, but he wasn’t sure if that was because the pun fell flat, or because she was nervous. As far as he knew, she hadn’t been outside of the Ruins in years. And here she was, trusting a sentry—someone whose job it was to keep a look out—to turn a blind eye.

It was a good thing he’d never been good at his job.

Stone ground against stone with a dramatic rumble. His eyesockets stayed shut. Warmth emanated from somewhere near his shoulder, and he lifted the bag of chocolates.

His small hand brushed a large fur-covered one. A shiver trailed down his spine. One small touch shouldn’t have done so much to him, but—but she was real. She was more than just a voice behind a door. Which he knew, but knowing and feeling could be worlds apart at times.

She took the bag, and the moment was over. But the door didn’t close.

“My dear friend,” she whispered, her voice sounding closer than ever. “Would it be presumptuous to ask another favor of you?”

“‘Course not. Glad to do a favor for my favor-ite person.” He kept his tone light, unaffected by the swirling emotions inside him.

“If I could… oh, dear, this is embarrassing.”

He resisted the urge to open his eyes, to see what look might be on her face.

“It has simply been so long… may I hold your hand a moment longer?”

He felt the marrow heating within his bones.

“That all? I gotta hand it to ya, you made me think you needed an arm and a leg.”

She chuckled before awkwardly fumbling to grasp his hand again.

Heat poured from her palm into his phalanges. Aside from the fur, there were several spots of soft skin—probably paw pads. Was she a dog monster, like the Canine Unit in town? She didn’t make nearly enough dog jokes for that to be the case. Her laugh sounded more like a goat’s, but she obviously didn’t have hooves. Maybe she was some kind of chimera? You didn’t see those often nowadays, but then again, no one saw monsters from the Ruins, either.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice as soft as the snow that began to drift around him.

“Not disappointed?” He asked, only half-joking. “My hand can’t be as comfy as yours.”

“Ah, but it is all your bone. And that is wonderful to me.”

“Geez, old lady.” He was grateful she couldn’t see his blush. “You’re pretty fur-fect yourself.”

When she laughed, her body shook all the way down to her hand. The feeling more than made up for all the G he’d spent on chocolate and donuts.

Suddenly his hand was being lifted up, and then something soft pressed against his knuckles. His soul flared erratically, and his eyes nearly flew open. If they had, he was sure his left eyelight would have been blue from shock.

“A kiss for a kiss,” she said slyly. “It is only fair.”

“Heh heh…” His voice shook with more than laughter. “Technically, that was one kiss for a bag of kisses. Pretty sure that math doesn’t square up.”

“Oh, you are quite right! One day we will have to circle back and rectify that.”

He practically had to cast gravity magic on himself to keep his eyes from flying open.

“You—huh?” He said intelligently.

“Perhaps not soon,” she clarified. “This has all been… a lot, for me. But thanks to you, my dear friend, this day has not been so bitter as I am used to.”

“Uh, no problem, then. With all that chocolate, I hope it’s sweet.”

Sweet as the anniversary of a death could be, anyway. He grimaced. Maybe that joke was too soon, but she just squeezed his hand before finally letting go.

“I do think it will be,” she said softly. “I will look forward to hearing more of your punny jokes tomorrow.”

The door scraped shut, and he hesitantly opened his eyes. He couldn't help inspecting the door to see if anything changed. Pressing his still-warm hand against the smooth stone.

“Heh. Good luck getting rid of me now.” He grinned.

Then he tucked his hands in his pockets, where her kiss remained like a tattoo on his bone.

[joheunsaram]

In Plain Sight (knj)

Summary- After weeks of preparation and stress, you believed you were ready for the opening night of your restaurant. However, nothing could have prepared you for the sight of your ex waiting for you.

word count- 2k

pairing- idol!Namjoon x chef!Reader (feat. bff!Seokjin, brother!Jungkook)

rating- PG

genre- angst, exes to (maybe) lovers

warnings- none to note, Namjoon eats mincho

a.n- Happy birthday to my bae, Beezy @hobeemin​! I hope you had the best day and that this isn’t too late haha. I know you requested this for my March drabbles but I got carried away. Here’s some angst to heal your soul!

A huge shout out to @casuallyimagining​ and @missgarnet​ for beta reading! 💕

As always feedback appreciated, a reblog and a like goes a far way. Send me an ask! 💌

-

You sighed in relief as the first customers of the night started pouring in. This was it. This was what you had been working towards for the past ten years. After years of culinary school, slaving away as a sous chef and begging investors, tonight was the night that you unveiled your new restaurant.

You ran your clammy hands over your pants as you greeted your guests, the most radiant smile on your face, before checking in with the kitchen. Even before the grand opening, the fact that one of your investors was the beloved chef Baek Jong-won, had people excited about your restaurant. It had put a lot of pressure on you, but watching your head chef prepare the kitchen for the dinner rush calmed your nerves. It was comforting being in the back, the clatter of pans and shouts of commands made you feel at home.

“Checking up on me already, boss?” Seokjin asked, chuckling as he draped a towel over his shoulder. In addition to being your head chef, Seokjin was also your best friend, supporting you over the years to make your dream come true.

“Can never be too sure, what with your habit of getting distracted by your reflection,” you joked, earning a scowl and a whack from Seokjin’s towel. Pushing him back, you laughed as he yelled at you for almost killing him, his dramatics at an all time high, probably the same nerves churning through him as you.

Where the kitchen was chaotic, the front of the house was almost serene, a low rumble of conversation offset by a soft jazz playlist you had spent hours curating. Your nerves dissipated as the first orders arrived, the customers smiling and nodding at the first taste. 

Moving behind the bar, you checked on Jungkook, your younger brother and bartender. No one would have ever thought the two of you would end up working together, given the fights you had all through your childhood, the scar of one of them permanently etched on his cheekbone. 

“Did you invite him?” He asked as he shook a drink, the ice rattling obnoxiously in the metal container. 

“Who?” You asked, your nose scrunching at the aggressive way he made the drink. You swore if he broke another glass you were going to take it out of his paycheck, shared gene pool or not. 

“Namjoon,” he whispered theatrically, using his eyes to point towards the corner of the room. The sound of his name set you on edge, your heart in your throat. 

You hadn’t thought of your ex for over two years, since the night he walked out on you and you vowed to never let anyone take control of your happiness and leave you broken on a whim. However, that didn’t stop you from following your brother’s eyeline to the more secluded tables of your restaurant. 

He looked different. So different that it cracked the carefully constructed armour around you, a frown etching onto your features as you took him in. Dressed head to toe in black, you wouldn’t have noticed him if it weren’t for Jungkook.

He looked out of place, anxious, as he drummed his fingers on the menu, staring at it intently. The hood of his oversized jacket was atop his head concealing his dyed blonde hair, and his black mask was pulled low on his chin, leaving his bare face on display as if his new album wasn’t currently at number one. 

He was biting his lip, his brows scrunched together and it sent you back to two years ago, the memories flooding your brain as the ache you’d worked endlessly to ignore reared its ugly head once again. 

“We should break up,” Namjoon said, his lower lip between his teeth, as he stood in the doorway. He was still dressed in his outfit from the shoot he had returned from; a shiny silver bomber jacket adorned atop a plain black outfit, his makeup still on perfectly. It gave him an ethereal look, all flaws hidden from view as he looked at you in your striped blue pyjamas, hair up in a messy bun, face puffy from sleep. 

His words felt like you had been hit with ice water, like you were skating on a frozen river and it gave way from under you plunging you into a panicked cold that felt akin to a burn. You didn’t know how long he watched you, your face neutral after you demanded an explanation. 

“It’s not fair to you, Berry,” he said, voice soft and broken as he finally made his way to the bed. He sat as far away from you as he could and the distance seemed to stretch on for miles. You were confused by his sudden change. Just yesterday he had arrived home with smiles and cuddled into you immediately, just as he had done for the past three years, but today you were hard pressed to find that warmth, his gaze never meeting yours. 

“You don’t get to decide what’s fair to me,” you stated. “We are not breaking up.” Decision made, you slipped the cover over yourself as you reclined back into your supine position. 

“I can’t do this anymore,” he muttered, almost silently but the quiet of the room gave him away, his distraught weaving itself in your skull. 

“Juniper, let’s talk about this,” you pleaded, a hand reaching to grab onto his that he shrugged off. 

“No. If we talk about this you will convince me to stay and I just can’t do this anymore.”

“What did I do?” Your voice was soft, as if you spoke any louder it would startle the seemingly broken man in front of you. 

“It’s not you, it’s me,” he spoke the cliche, his dimples making an appearance in the sad smile he gave in your direction. You didn’t understand what was happening. Namjoon was a man of many words, slinging together poetry out of thin air in seconds, inspired by the mundane. He continued, talking over your thoughts, as he explained the reasons he was hurting you, the reasons he was a bad partner. All reasons that you have never even conceived - a product of his overthinking, anxious mind. Every time you would argue, he would counter with his own failings, like how he couldn’t make it to your culinary school graduation and how his fame made him unavailable to go to whenever you needed him. 

Namjoon cried, inconsolable even when you tried to assure him that his failings were in his imagination, that you were happy, content. But he had a notoriously one-track mind, and the only conclusion he could come to was that he couldn’t bear to be with you any more. 

“Seeing you always waiting for me breaks my heart,” he whispered as he held you, your face in his hands as he smiled for your benefit. You didn’t know how to convince him otherwise, but the way he kissed you, tasting of salt and regret, you knew it would be the last time he would do so. 

When he left that night, you finally cried, mourning a relationship that he snatched away from you, before the tears turned to rage, heartbreak manifested into indignation. 

“Are you going to talk to him?” Jungkook broke you out of your reverie just before you could further relive the sorrow. 

“No. Absolutely not. He can enjoy his solo dinner,” you replied, turning on your heels to go into your office, your excitement for the night overshadowed by Namjoon’s sudden reappearance. It wasn’t bad enough that you had to see him in your restaurant but as you turned on a random playlist fate decided that you would hear him too as he talked about your break up on his new single. His sultry vocals rapped about his self loathing and need to please only to realize that he left the only person who loved him for himself. You were bitter that he had this epiphany, bitter that he was monetizing on something that was as much your heartbreak as his. 

But what Namjoon wants, Namjoon gets, and as the dinner rush ended and the crowd dwindled with last call, he was still sitting in the corner table, sequestered away from eyes as he played with his dessert. He must have known that the chocolate bon bons were inspired by him, dubbed Juniper like you had called him all those years, and extra mint added just to spite him. The same way he had named his new song Back to Berry, an homage to no one else but you. 

When he refused to leave even after Jungkook asked, you had no choice but to act civil and make your way towards him. He gasped as you unceremoniously settled in the chair in front of him, eyes widened as if he had seen a ghost. As if he had not been waiting three hours for this exact moment

“What are you doing, Namjoon?” You asked, arms folded across your chest as you glared at the face you once thought you couldn’t live without. 

“I’m eating dessert,” he answered, averting your hardened gaze to poke his fork at the food. 

“We’re closing,” you said, your hand waving to your wait staff that had started clearing tables and sweeping the floors. “And you hate mint chocolate,” you added as he took a bite. 

“It was calling my name,” he chuckled humourlessly, before he sighed pushing the plate away. He finally met your eyes then, a soft smile on his face, his dimples poking their way from his cheeks into your heart. “Congratulations. You did it.”

“Yeah. Alone.” You were bitter. He had left you, practically ghosted you for two years and now he thought it was okay to waltz back in?

“I’m sorry,” he said, dropping all pretenses as his hand reached towards you. “I’m so sorry, Berry.”

The use of his old nickname for you broke your heart and your facade as you looked at his hand placed directly in front of you on the table, a finger slowly caressing your forearm, almost out of reach. You couldn’t help the way your eyes glistened at his touch, tender and apprehensive. How could he think it was okay to come here? How could you think you wouldn’t forgive him if he asked?

In that moment all you wanted was to run back into his arms, kiss him, delve back into that chaotically beautiful brain of his, but your pride was stronger than all the apologies in the world. 

“It’s too late,” you said as you stood up, his head dropping as he retracted his hand back into his lap. “We’re closed. Goodbye, Juniper.” You gestured to the door, waiting for him to collect his bag, watching as he dropped much more money than his bill on the table before he made his way to the door. 

Turning around he looked at you, catching you staring at him with tear streaked cheeks. “I’m not going to give up, Berry”

“You never do, do you?”

“Never when it comes to you,” he said, covering his face with his mask and adjusting the hood atop his head before disappearing into the quiet street. 

That night you felt your defences weaken a little when you got a message from an unknown number. 

I forgot to tell you. I still miss you. Even after 708 days.

-

taglist: @cheesecakes-randomshitz​, @aroseforyoongi​, @awhnamjoon​, @agustdjoon​, @codeinebelle​ 

I hope you enjoyed the angst! For more fics of mine check out my masterlist

[twink-appreciation-posts]

Needs and Wants - Spencer Reid x Reader

chapter six of “all bets are off”

um. so. spencer is the best fuck you've ever had. also cumming too many times can hurt. who knew?

warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT, degradation, daddy kinky, spanking, overstimulation, the WORKS. im mildly apologetic.

When you awoke in the morning you heard the noise of static cracking on the other side of your phone. Reaching for it, you immediately noticed it was hot to the touch. Had it been on all night? Had Spencer never hung up?

“Reid?” You questioned groggily.

“You slept quite late.”

You groaned. “Why are you still here?”

“I… I don’t know.” He seemed confused by his own actions. “I guess I just felt strange hanging up.”

“Well. I should probably get dressed, I’m supposed to meet up with a friend for dinner.” You checked the time. “Oh. Fuck. I really did sleep for too long.” You sprung out of bed, rifling through your closet. “What have you been up to today though?”

“Mostly just reading. I slept in a bit late as well.” You could hear his smile through the phone. You occasionally had contact with Spencer outside of work, but not very often. It was nice. “What time is your dinner?”

“Six! It’s just an old friend from college,” you explained, sighing.

“Not excited?” He questioned, an air of humor to his voice.

“I just don’t know what to wear,” you chuckled.

Spencer went quiet on the other end. “You know that one black shirt you have?” He questioned.

You tilted your head a bit. “I have a lot of black shirts, Spence. You gotta be more specific. Wait- did you use your freaky memory to memorize the contents of my closet?”

“It’s not freaky, but yes. And it wasn’t fully intentional.” A pause. “I’m talking about the one with the lace. It’s… like a tank top.” You scanned through your clothes.

“Is it the velvet one?” You asked, noticing a pattern.

“Yeah. That one.”

“You have a thing for velvet, don’t you?” You giggled, remembering his fingers running over the fabric of the dress you had worn a few days prior.

“Maybe I do.”

You took the shirt off the hanger and examined it. Not a bad choice. “Any suggestions for the bottom half, sir?” You teased.

Spencer inhaled loudly. Hah. For once you were the one to catch him off guard. “Well, my first instinct is one of those skirts you like to wear when the team goes out together, with nothing else on underneath, of course.” You opened your mouth to argue. “But I wouldn’t want to risk giving anyone a peek of what’s mine. A skirt would still look nice, though.” He finished.

You rolled your eyes. “So shorts, then.” You said, grabbing a skirt. Why would you want to give him any more confidence of the control he had over you? The skirt had been a good idea, but you didn’t have to be totally honest, right?

Spencer chuckled. “Have you always been so petty?” He questioned.

“Have you always been such a sexual deviant?” You fired back.

“Touché, y/n. Touché.”

You and Spencer hung up a few minutes later since you had dinner plans to make. They weren’t anything special but you valued being punctual. The dinner went well enough, at least in the beginning. The “old friend” you were meeting up with was just a guy you were friends with in college. Your mistake, you would later learn, was deciding that it would be cute to take some pictures for Instagram. They were totally innocent, of course, but within a few minutes of posting them, you got a text message from the one and only Spencer Reid. You told your friend it was a “work thing”, not a total lie, and examined.

‘You wore the skirt’

You chuckled at your phone. ‘I did.’

‘Did you take my advice and wear nothing underneath?’

‘No, because I’m not crazy.’ You rolled your eyes a bit.

‘I’m sure your friend would’ve liked it.’

Before you could reply another text came through. ‘When are you planning on being finished with that friend, by the way?’

‘I’m not sure. Why? Something you’re looking forward to?’

‘Just trying to figure out if I’m going to get to leave bruises on that pretty little neck of yours tonight or tomorrow.’

Another text. Damn, he was a fast typer.

‘I wonder what your friend would’ve thought of that? Maybe you should schedule another dinner with him after I’ve absolutely ruined you. Let him see what a pathetic slut you are for me.’

You glanced up at your friend and back at your phone. Was Spencer seriously doing this right now? “Sorry,” you mumbled an apology across the table. “Working in the FBI can be annoying.”

‘Why are you doing this?’ You typed out.

‘Doing what? Getting you all needy and wet while you’re on your dinner date? Because I can.’

‘You think I’m enjoying this?’

‘I know you are. I bet your thighs are pressed together, I bet your face is bright red. Have you told your friend what you’re texting about?’

‘You make a lot of assumptions, Spencer.’

‘If you weren’t enjoying this, y/n, you would’ve stopped replying a long time ago. What was it you said last night? You need me? Don’t you need me to fuck you? I could’ve been fucking you right now, you know. Could’ve had your face pressed down into the mattress, or maybe I could’ve bent you right over your kitchen counter..’

You weren’t even sure how long you had been on your phone at this point. You felt bad but… fuck. What exactly were you supposed to do in this situation? “Listen I, um,” you began to stutter out. “You know how the BAU is, always calling me in at odd hours, and I uh,” you began to stutter out excuses as your phone dinged over and over again.

‘I wish I could see how flustered you are right now.’ ‘I wonder if you’re thinking about getting on your knees for me..’ ‘Maybe about how badly you want to know how my cock feels inside of you.’

Your friend got the gist of it. You had to go because of “work”. You paid the tab, exiting the restaurant as casually as you possibly could. You texted as you walked back to your car.

‘If you wanted to ruin my night, you’ve successfully done it. I’ll be at my apartment in 20.’

You turned off your phone, shoving it into your purse and ignoring the incessant chimes of text notifications, finding your way home. A few minutes after you had settled, you heard a knock at your door. You braced yourself, pulling it open. “Spencer.” You smiled. “What a surprise.” He didn’t respond, eyes scanning your figure. “So,” you continued. “Do you wanna tell me why you decided to bombard me with text messages during my lovely evening out?” You raised a brow.

He considered your question, fidgeting with his hands. “When you told me that you were seeing a friend I didn’t realize you meant..”

“What, a guy?” You chuckled. “Was I supposed to inform you of his gender beforehand?”

Spencer shook his head. “No. I just hate imagining all of the things that must have been running through his head about you.”

You rolled your eyes. “Not that it matters, but it’s not like that. He’s a friend.”

“Oh, I know. It’s not you I’m worried about. I mean, I doubt he could fuck you half as well as I could anyway, but he’s probably been fantasizing about you all night.” A bold statement indeed.

You just laughed. “I think maybe you’re projecting, buddy. You’re the one who blew up my phone and forced me to come home.”

“Forced? Unless my memory is somehow mistaken, I think you’re the one who made that decision.”

“Are you here to argue semantics with me or-“ He cut you off.

“And to your earlier point,” he took a step towards you. “I have no need to project. I’m the one who’s going to get to see you all bruised up and begging for my cock, aren’t I?”There it was. The switch. You had been waiting, waiting for the moment where he got annoyed with you. You opened your mouth, ready to push him even further over the edge. “I’d watch what you say now, little girl. I’m already planning on making sure you regret all the teasing you’ve done the past few days, don’t add insult to injury.”

He really had an issue with teasing, huh? Good. Easier to rile him up. “Is this where you start the whole training thing you were going on about yesterday? You gonna teach me some tricks? And if so, do I at least get some treats if I’m good?” You questioned, going directly against his words of warning. You were watching him closely, wanting to see him seethe. You felt a wave of confusion pass you over as he seemed unfazed, unfortunately maintaining composure. In fact, he stepped forward and closed the gap between your bodies, placing his hands on the hem of your skirt, fingers dancing along it.

“Are you done?” He asked, eyes not leaving yours.

You looked up at him, mind going blank. “Um. No. Fuck you.” You spat out quickly, a last-ditch effort to get more of a reaction out of him.

“Right. I’m not sure what I expected from such a useless little slut. You just can’t help yourself, can you?” Spencer mumbled. In one swift motion he was pulling your skirt down and watching it pool at your feet. He was kissing you just a moment later, hands holding your face firmly in place. You would’ve fought for control, but you could already tell it would be a futile effort. His fingers were digging into your skull, tangling in your hair, and his lips were relentless, barely giving either of you room to breathe. You could feel it now, though. The anger you had been working so hard to trigger was coming out in full force. When he eventually pulled away his hands moved from your head to your breasts, swirling around the lace and velvet that covered them. You were panting, watching him, the way his fingers flexed and his eyes followed his own movements. “You’re so pretty, it really is a shame you can’t behave yourself.” He pulled the shirt over your head, leaving you exposed.

He leaned down and began to assault your chest with his tongue, one of his hands shoving your panties to the side and inserting two fingers into your pussy without warning. Your hand flew to your mouth, attempting to stifle the embarrassingly loud moan that he had caused. He didn’t take it slow at all, no, he started off at a brutal pace, as if his mission was to get you to cum as quickly as possible. If that had been his mission, he was succeeding. Before you had a chance to tell him that you were close his lips were at your neck, biting hard enough that you were sure that makeup wouldn’t cover the aftermath. “Cum for me, slut. It’s not hard to tell that you’re close already. So fucking needy for me, all you do is fight me but look how easily you crumble. There’s no hesitation when my fingers are inside of you, huh?” You couldn’t reply even if you had wanted too, you were too busy struggling to keep yourself standing as your orgasm washed over you. Spencer helped, a hand behind you to keep you stable, but you were still shaking. “Good girl. Let’s see, how many more of those do we have left.” You looked at him with confusion. “Well, I’d say we have one from at the club, when you let your hand wander,” his fingers hadn’t let up, still pumping in and out of you. You were trying your best to focus on his words, but it was proving to be a difficult task. “Another from that night, how you touched yourself right where I could hear,” You wanted to argue or say anything really, but your voice was too busy moaning and whimpering as his thumb moved onto your clit. “One from earlier today, especially after that little stunt you pulled on Instagram. And at least one more for the show you just put on before I shut you up.” You were close again. Fuck. It was too close together. Too much stimulation. “What do you think, baby? Does 4 sound good? We can make it 3 right now if you cum for me.” He said ‘if’ like it was an option for you, but it was far from it. You moaned his name, probably loud enough to alert your neighbors, as your second orgasm arrived. “Fuck, oh my god, Spencer. Fuck.” You panted out, legs giving out beneath you. He chuckled, holding you up on his own and finally removing his fingers from inside of you. “Good girl. So good for me.” He praised, allowing you to catch your breath. He picked you up now, taking you to your bed, and gently placing you down. You watched as he began to pull off layers of clothing. You didn’t think you could get any more turned on than you already were but seeing Spencer undress definitely did it. You couldn’t peel your eyes away. He left his boxers on, his dick straining against them.

He moved onto the bed, hovering over you. You prepared yourself for him to kiss you again but instead he spoke, brushing a hair out of your face. “The only words I want to hear coming out of that filthy little mouth of yours from now on are ‘yes, daddy’. Do you understand?”

You gulped. Yes. You understood. But were you actually going to-

His had went to your throat, not applying pressure. A warning.

“Yes, daddy.”

“Good girl.” He flipped you over onto your stomach, inhaling sharply. He moved his hands underneath your hips, picking them up so that your ass was displayed.

“Look at you,” he tugged your panties down your thighs, hands skimming over the skin. “Such a perfect little toy for me. So eager to be fucked.”

You squirmed, his hands being so close to where you desperately wanted them.

“Do you want this, baby?” He asked, his hand coming down on your ass. It stung, but only for a moment. Not his full force, you could tell, but it was enough to get you to squeal. “Y-Yes, daddy.” You spoke softly. You felt his hand leave your skin and braced yourself for it to return. It did, of course, but much harder this time. You flinched a bit but Spencer held you in place. “Look at you, such a fast learner.” He cooed, another blow landing on your ass. It hurt. You knew that. But you found yourself prioritizing the pleasure in your mind. “You said that you wanted bruises that lasted for weeks, right?” He asked, hand coming down again. The pain began to become ever-more present, even when his hand wasn’t on your skin you could feel the sting from the cool air. He repeated the process a few times, mumbling words of praise in between. Tears began to spill from your eyes when he was finished. Without his hand to support you, you crumbled back down on the bed, laying on your stomach. Spencer flipped you over gently, watching the tears flow. “Good girl,” he praised, wiping a few of them away. “Such a perfect little slut for daddy. You did so well.” You found yourself relishing in the praise up in a way you hadn’t before. “T-Thank you, daddy.” You breathed out shakily. Spencer smiled at you and began to spread your legs apart gently. “But you’re not done yet, are you baby?”

Your eyes widened at the reminder. It seemed impossible. You weren’t sure your body would even be able to take it. You began to protest, but your words were cut short as he began to trail kisses down your body. He didn’t waste much time on his way to your pussy, tongue grazing your clit. “Oh, fuck..” your back arched instinctively. Encouraged by your reaction, Spencer began to roll his tongue over your clit and then down towards your entrance, moving his face and tongue at a slow pace. You watched, his hair falling onto your thighs and tickling them gently. “F-Fuck, keep going. Please.” You whined. He chuckled against you, speeding up his pace. Both of his hands were planted on your thighs, keeping them spread for easier access. His tongue worked against you harshly. Demanding. He was exploring, making sure to taste every inch of you, moving like he wouldn’t be satisfied until he had. You felt a familiar knot begin to form in your stomach, your hips bucking up towards his face. He moved one of his hands to your stomach, pressing down firmly, pinning your body down to the mattress. “Daddy, fuck, I’m gonna cum. I-I’m so close. You feel so fucking good. Fuck. So good, so good, so-“ And there it was, your 3rd orgasm of the night. Your vision became blurry, you were barely even aware of the fact that Spencer had gotten fully naked until a few moments later when you were coming back down to Earth.

“You’ve been such a good girl for me, baby. Only two more. You can do two more, can’t you?” You were weak. You guessed 3 orgasms and some spanking would do that to someone, but your body still ached for him. He approached you, his hand moving to slide your legs apart once again. You whimpered in anticipation. “Beg for me, baby. Tell daddy how badly you need him.” His voice was low, commanding.

“Please Spencer, fuck, I need it. I need to feel you inside of me. It’s all I’ve been able to think about all day, please. I want you to ruin me. You need to ruin me, please.”

Spencer seemed content with your response because after a few moments he was pushing himself inside of you, releasing a string of curses from his mouth as he did. The intrusion was piercing as he split you open, your eyes rolling back into your skull. Fuck. Yes. This was what you needed. “You’re so wet and tight for me baby.” Spencer groaned, slowly pulling out and pushing himself back in. “So fucking good. Such a good little fucktoy.” He began to find a rhythm, his hips snapping into yours aggressively. The noise of his skin meeting yours filled the room, broken only by the moans that were tumbling out of you uncontrollably now. After all of the overstimulation you had already been through, your fourth orgasm built up quickly. “No one else can make you feel like this, isn’t that right baby? Fuck. No one else can make you cum like I can.”

He was right. He was fucking right. Out of every sexual encounter you had ever had... this one stood miles above.

“No one.” You agreed. “No one else. No one but you.” Your words were coming out barely comprehendible. “Fuck. Please no more,” you began to whine, your release catching up to you. Spencer reached up, closing a hand around your neck to silence you. “Shh baby, just cum for me. Cum for me, come on. You’re so close.” Tears began to flow again as your 4th climax ripped through you, every single one of your nerves on fire. You felt like you were being torn apart. Your tears clouded your vision, but it hardly mattered. You were seeing stars. You could hear, somewhere in the distance, it felt like, Spencer praising you, his hand releasing your neck. You gasped for air, panting, and sputtering.

One more. One more. One more.

“Fuck, Spence, I can’t.” You sobbed, “I can’t.” You repeated. “You can and you will.” He replied, voice shaking. He was close too. You could tell. His thrusts were becoming more sporadic, more frantic. “You’ve been so fucking good for me, baby. Keep going.” Fuck. When your vision returned you saw him, sweat dripping down his body, his hair matted down, and you could feel yourself clench around him. Your body ached, but you could still feel it approaching. “F-Fuck. Fuck. I..” you were a mess, whimpering, shaking, all because of Spencer Reid. “I know baby. Cum with me. I wanna feel you cum around my cock.” Spencer groaned, and you didn’t have the strength left in you to fight. Your body was set aflame as you came, feeling the warmth of his own climax as well. You were panting, grasping at consciousness and you came down. Somewhere in your brain, you processed Spencer getting off of the bed. When your mind came back to you you sat up, sweat dripping down your forehead.

“Spencer..” you said softly, watching as he pulled back on his shirt. “That was...”

He nodded, lost in thought.

“Are you okay?” You asked, frowning.

“I’m fine. Just thinking about how you’re gonna hide those hickeys on Monday.”

You touched your hand to your neck. “Oh. Yeah. That might be an issue.”

You got ready to hop off the bed, but a wave of pain rushed over you. Too soon to start moving again.

“Don’t strain yourself,” Spencer’s voice was sweet now, laced with concern. “I’ll go get you some Advil or something. You have some right?” You nodded. “I can run a bath if you want, too.”

“That would be great. Thanks.” You smiled weakly.

As left the room your phone dinged, alerting you of a text message from Garcia.

‘Girls night tomorrow!! You can’t say no, Emily and JJ already said yes.’

Fuck.

taglist <3

@101donuts @annestine @spideyboix @babybloomer @welcome-to-hoeville @eldahae

[razrbladekiss]

Tyrants | Chapter Seven - Fix You

WORD COUNT: 6.1k

WARNINGS: Gun talk, mentions of murder, The usual SOA shit. 

An almost unsettling fog blanketed Charming tonight, amplifying the sinister aura that’d been drifting through the town since Stahl had made her mark.

Since June Stahl had made it her mission—her whole purpose—to destroy the Sons Of Anarchy, and anybody that laid in her path.

She was doing a damn good job of that, too.

Isla wasn’t sure what her hasty arrival would mean for the club, but she knew that it wasn’t going to end pretty. She was aware that the bitter agent was just as stiff-necked as Clay, and wasn’t going down without a fucking fight.

Which, a fight, the Sons could do. It was whether they’d all make it out alive that Isla couldn’t predict.

She wouldn’t want to put her money on it either, actually.

“Any word on Bobby?”

“No.” Gemma’s sigh was sad, exhausted. “Rosen swung by just after you left with the she-devil. Said there’s a witness in a safe house willing to testify against Bobby and Ope in court. And if he does stick to his word, they’re going down for murder.”

Choosing to ignore her comment about Tara, Isla continued to pace the room. She held her cell tightly between her pink fingertips, hoping it’d light up and vibrate with a call from Jax, or Tig, or even Happy.

“Shit.” She hissed, mindful of the fact that there was a sleeping baby in Wendy’s arms and any offensive sounds would rouse him in an instant. “Did Clay tell you what their next move was?”

“Yeah. But I don’t think you’re gonna like it, sweetheart.”

She didn’t have to be privy to the plan to know that their next move involved one witness, three men, and a handful of shrapnel bullets.

“Jax know about this?” Almost concerned, Wendy asked. Isla’s ears perked up at that, too, because she wanted to know.

The VP was brutal, he was domineering and harsh when he had to be, but he wanted minimal blood shed. He didn’t host that same massacre mentality as Tig or Clay, and he definitely didn’t desire the sick thrill of gunning down a witness being protected by the fucking ATF.

“I’m assuming that he doesn’t.” The blonde uttered for Gemma after noticing that she was taking a painfully long time to respond. “Clay sent Happy, Tig, and who else? Juice?”

“Not Juice.”

“Did Clay go?” A little bit condescending, like she already knew the answer, Wendy asked. She rocked Abel back and forth as she did so, penetratively glaring at her ex-mother-in-law.

Isla swallowed thickly, stuffing her cell into the back pocket of her jeans when she realized what Gemma was trying to say.

Clay never did his own dirty work—it was always the Sgt. At Arms and whoever else was willing to get the blood on their hands. And her father, the forward-thinking, strong-willed Scotsman, never shied away from a task of this nature.

“It’s okay.” She spoke aloud, elucidating her innermost thoughts. “It’s fine. They’ve got Hap—he’s never been caught before—he knows what he’s doing.”

“And Tig, too. Y’know what he’s like.”

“Yeah.” Reflectively, she spoke. “At least they’d go through with it if my dad couldn’t.”

“You saying that your old man is weak?”

“No.” Isla spat at Wendy, glaring at her. “I’m saying that he has a conscience. Hap and Tig are a little bit hasty with the trigger and don’t tend to think before they execute somebody.”

In agreement, Gemma nodded.

“But it’s gotta be done.” She concluded, sitting on the arm of the couch. “The witness has gotta be dealt with—even if Jax doesn’t know anything about this.”

She felt her heart constrict at the thought of nobody telling the Vice President about their plans to get rid of that man.

The man that had the power to take down Opie and Bobby, and leave a club without their brothers.

Two families without their fathers.

And though it was inherently wrong to commit murder, Isla had been brought up knowing that the Sons got rid of their problems by planting bullets in the skulls of their enemies.

It was bad and immoral, and she couldn’t think of a way to excuse it to anybody on the outside. But to SAMCRO, it was habitual. It was what they did because it worked. Every single time.

“Wait a second.”

“What’s the matter, baby?”

Isla pulled a hand through her hair. “How is Clay so sure that they’re not gonna get caught? Y’know, ‘cuz this witness is being protected by the ATF—“

She was cut short by a delicate, albeit firmer than usual, knock at the door. Isla piqued a brow when Gemma got up to answer.

“They’ve got it covered.” Was all she managed to muster out before she went to see who’d decided to turn up at that hour.

Isla’s brain was doing cartwheels. She was nervous, she was pissed, but, most of all, she was upset that Chibs hadn’t told her where he was going tonight.

She snapped herself out of it, though. When Gemma scoffed as she opened the door and trailed back to her spot on the adjacent couch, Isla’s interests had been roused.

“It’s kinda late for a house call.” Her eyes rolled.

Tara trailed in behind her, feeling uneasy at the mere sight of the SAMCRO Queen and Jax’s ex-wife—but Isla being the only friendly face eased her a little bit.

“I was on my way home from work. Just thought I’d stop by and check in.”

“That’s sweet.” Isla smiled at the brunette, offering her the space next to Wendy. “Here.”

“It’s okay, I’ll stand—“

“No, I insist.” She protested softly, getting up. “It’s been a long day for you, sweetie. I’ll sit by mama bear over there.”

Gemma snorted, trying to figure out just what had happened between the pair for Isla to suddenly be so kind and considerate toward the woman she loathed for the best part of a decade.

But she was drawing a blank, because she realized how stupid that would’ve been to wonder—she was just like that. Nothing had to happen for her to be that way.

Isla was the kind of woman that Gemma wanted to be, while simultaneously being her exact double. She was a cleaner, kinder, brighter version of the matriarch, though she hosted that flicker of something that’d tie her to the battle axe that raised her.

And maybe calling the woman a “battle axe” was a little bit harsh, but it was true—on almost every single count.

Gemma was strong-willed, stubborn, martinent, and she took no shit from anybody. Isla wasn’t like that. She wasn’t a doormat, and she didn’t let people walk all over her, but she never went out of her way to demand respect.

Even though she’d been brought up to know she was better than the other women that lived among the Sons Of Anarchy.

“Is he here?”

“Does it look like he’s here?” Gemma’s lips twitched.

“No, I just…I guess I miss him, you know?”

Wendy nodded, tending to a fidgeting Abel. “Yeah, I do.”

Isla looked between the pair—sadly. She watched two of the most important people in Jax’s life sit side-by-side, meditative and wondering about the positions they had both been thrust into.

He had lived two completely different lives with each woman, and she was grateful to say that she had been present in both.

But to see Jax struggle—to see his heart break twice—was too much for Isla to think about, really.

She had watched Tara walk away, right out of his life without a second glance or even a second thought. And it was painful to discern. Painful to know that her best friend had lost the love of his life because she felt that she was too good to stick around for him.

Isla knew that wasn’t the entire truth, and that Tara was just doing a good thing for herself. But, at the time, she was young and stupid and extremely closed-minded when it came to the people that wronged the ones she loved, and all she wanted to do was hate that woman.

She’d grown up a lot since then, though. Isla was a different person entirely—a better version of herself—and she understood each reason behind every last thing Tara did when she did it.

Even if Jax’s mother couldn’t get to grips with it—couldn’t think about trusting her—Isla could.

It was a little bit difficult now, however. To see Tara and Wendy in the same room—trying to coexist peacefully in Jax’s life—was hard.

The lull was boisterous. The sheepish silence was deafening, and the thwacking of Isla’s heart against her chest was vociferous enough to be heard by Gemma across the way.

It was a position she didn’t want to be thrust into, but she wasn’t willing to get up and leave had anything been said.

She sat beside the older woman, watching her watch them like a fucking hawk, until her phone vibrated in her back pocket.

Isla shifted, pulling the cell from the denim and flipping it open.

Janet: Can u make it in for 9 tomorrow morning?

Her eyebrows pinched together, looking up a little confused. Isla swore that she sent Janet a text message that told her she wouldn’t be able to work in the morning.

She couldn’t miss Donna’s funeral. She didn’t want to, either.

“Who is it?” Gemma spoke inquisitively, peeling her eyes away from the conversion between Wendy and Tara.

“My boss.”

“Janet?” She nodded. “What’d that bitch want?”

“For me to work tomorrow morning—”

Gemma turned to her, grimacing. “But it’s the funeral. You told her that, right?”

Once again, Isla bobbed her head while fiddling with the buttons on her cellphone.

“She’s not gonna let me take another day off.” Her throat hitched at the realization. “I’m just gonna have to go with you, ignore her calls, and tell her that I didn’t see the text she sent to me tonight.”

Lying to and ignoring the woman that paid her at the end of every month, the woman that had helped her financially for the last five years, wasn’t what Isla wanted to do today.

But it was the only way she could pay her respects to Donna, she thought.

“You’re not gonna go in, right?”

She shook her head. “No. I’m just gonna call her after the funeral and apologize—“

“Don’t apologize.” Gemma chastised, knitting her eyebrows together. “If she can’t understand that you’ve got a funeral in the morning that you can’t miss, then she can go to hell—“

“Alright, Gem.” Her chuckle was hearty as she put her hand against her purse, pulling it to sit against her shoulder.

“What’re you doing?”

“I’m gonna head home.” She rose to her feet smiling over at Tara and Wendy. “It’s getting late and we’ve gotta be out early tomorrow.”

“Alright, baby.” The older woman stood with her, pushing her hands into the back pockets of her jeans. “Call me when you get there?”

Isla smiled, pecking her cheek. “Of course.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” She directed toward Tara—not particularly giving a damn if Wendy would be there or not.

The doctor simply smiled and nodded, giving her the answer that she not only wanted, but needed. She needed her there by her side in the morning. Isla feared she wouldn’t be able to get through it without her, actually.

But she was dreading the day. To see those men hold themselves together—to see Opie strive not to crumble—was something that she didn’t want to have to witness tomorrow.

So many funerals had she attended, so many friends and family members had been seized from her reach throughout the course of her life, but she hadn’t seen anything like this before.

She hadn’t ever seen a friend lose his one true love, the woman that brought him unintelligible happiness and two beautiful children to cherish with his entire being.

She hadn’t seen Opie suffer so much before. The man that was strong and willing and would hastily blow shit up with little to no regard for consequences, was disintegrating before her very eyes.

And Isla didn’t fucking know how to help him cope with that. She didn’t even know if she could help him to cope with that.

Her anxiety was still present on the drive home, too.

Even after getting into bed and recounting the events of the afternoon, Isla was still nervous as to what’d happen next. Because Clay’s reaction to Bobby getting arrested didn’t inspire much confidence, either.

And the way that Piney had disappeared earlier to seek vengeance, to hold a fucking pistol to the head of Laroy Wayne—the man that allegedly played a role in the murder of Donna Winston—was also prickling away at her thoughts.

Something was going to go wrong, wasn’t it?

No matter how well thought out their plans might’ve been, or how seamlessly they carried out the crime, something always went wrong. Somebody was always caught out, or hurt, or just felt bad about what they were doing.

Isla could’ve written that shit, now. After so many failed hits, failed attempts, and unfortunate events, Isla was almost a pro at predicting what the future would entail.

Almost as if she’d manifested it by merely thinking, her attention was piqued by the hastening roar of a motorcycle engine—clearly pulling up to her place.

It was wonderful to know that Gemma hadn’t decided to follow her home tonight, but the rough din could’ve led to any of the others.

She hoped it wasn’t Jax, and she really hoped it wasn’t her father or Happy.

As she slid out of bed, Isla reached for the pink robe with the daisies on it that rested against the back of her bedroom door, and shrugged it on over her silky pajamas.

It was great that she lived in such a small house, really, because she was able to get from point A (her bedroom) to point B (the front door), in a matter of seconds, or before the person outside got angry that she was taking too long.

He hadn’t knocked the door yet, but she knew that he was about to.

Isla rummaged around the little bowl beside the entrance for her front door key, suddenly realizing that she had way too many of them—her house key, a key to her mailbox, keys to T M, keys to her dad’s place, her car keys, she had somebody’s bike keys, too.

The little chain that hosted a few pieces of metal, a cherry keychain, a tiny motorcycle, and an old beaded bracelet that Chibs had given to her for safe travels, was hastily being shoved into the lock and twisted counterclockwise.

“How’d you know I was out here?” Tig asked from about a foot away, barely visible to her as the streetlights were out, for some reason.

“Literally couldn’t hear myself think over the sound of your bike.” She chuckled, leaning against her door frame. She squinted, trying to focus on him—but it was no use. “What’re you going here, Tigger?”

He stepped further toward her—reluctantly. The dim glow of her living room light suddenly illuminated the space a hell of a lot more, hitting Tig square in the face as Isla shifted a little to her left.

Her heart clenched.

“I need you to play nurse again.” Bashfully, he smiled.

There were tears of pain trickling from those crystalline hues, his left hand firmly planted against his ribcage, and she suddenly heeded the dried blood underneath his nose, his lips, and a bruise forming against his cheek.

“Tig…” Her words broke away from her tongue, the lump in her throat constricting her airways because seeing him so beaten and exhausted hurt her.

“You should see the other guy.” He tried to joke, but the humor was lost on her.

Lost on him, too. He didn’t think it was funny, but he hated the way she was looking at him.

“Sorry to bring this here.” Tig sniffed harshly, squinting as the pain suddenly started to hit him. “I’ll—uh—I’ll go—“

“No. No, you’re not going anywhere.” She stated firmly, stepping out of the house and down the path. “You’re gonna come in, I’m gonna fix you up, and you’re gonna tell me what happened.”

“Isla…”

“Please, Alex.”

Tig couldn’t help that little smile pulling at the corners of his lips, always liking that she’d say his name so softly. Anybody else referring to him that way would’ve gotten a swift kick in the fucking gut—but she was different.

Isla was a comfort. Always had been.

He stepped inside, following closely behind her as she made a beeline for her bathroom. But she instructed him to sit at the dinner table, stifling a laugh at the way she tried her hand at being the authoritative figure.

She’d even told him to help himself to the Jack Daniels she kept for when Chibs called ‘round.

“You’re so lucky dad taught me how to treat wounds.” She called from the end of the hallway, shuffling across the carpet in a pair of sparkly pink slippers.

“I know.” He agreed, thankful. “He did a good job, too.”

“I’ll tell him you said that.” Isla smiled, putting her first aid necessities atop the table. “But don’t tell him that I’m about to ask you to take your shirt off, or else he’ll beat the shit outta you.”

“What?”

“Take your shirt off.” She smiled again, gesturing to the part of his body that his hand had subconsciously taken purchase against. “I’m not tryna make you do a strip tease for me, Tig, I just need to see if you’ve got any cuts there or if it’s just a bruise.”

“I think it’s just a bruise,” he mused, shrugging off his black zip-up, and starting to unbutton the cotton shirt adorning his torso.

Isla bit her bottom lip as she fiddled with the tube of antiseptic cream, wondering how she would broach the topic. She wanted to know what had happened—because whatever it was clearly did not go to plan—but she didn’t want him to think that she was trying to force it out of him.

“See.” Tig ran his hand over the red marks, lines, and the small flecks of yellow surrounding his rib cage and lower abdomen. “All good.”

“Not all good.” She halted him as he tried to reason with her, furrowing her eyebrows. “Where did they come from?”

Nobody could lie to her. Ever.

Nobody had to lie to her, really, because Isla Telford tried not to ask any questions—but she was worried tonight.

Worried about Tig and the various messes that he’d found himself entwined in over the last day and a half. Worried that he was in trouble, that he was tormenting himself over something out of his reach—his control.

She was just worried about him, really.

His sigh was throaty, hurt palpable. “You want the whole truth, or the dumbed-down version?”

“The whole truth.” She retorted instantaneously, letting him button his shirt before she started to clean the blood from his face. “And don’t try to lie to me, because I know you too well for that.”

Like last night, he felt pathetic. He felt that twinge of vulnerability poke through again, and he hated it.

He hated the thought of Isla seeing him this way—in pain, downtrodden and exhausted—and he hated the thought of her knowing that whatever it was he did today had gotten to him so much.

“The witness that was gonna testify against Ope. Me, Hap, and your old man went to go ‘n handle him,” Tig sucked in a deep breath when the alcohol pad nicked at a cut he was unaware of.

“I know about that part.” Easily, she followed on. “So what happened? Was he too fast?”

His head shook, an airy chuckle escaping his lips. “He was a she. A teenage girl—“

“Jesus, Tig.” Almost disgusted, she took a step back. “You didn’t…”

“No.” He reassured her, letting her soften a little bit before coming out with; “but me and Hap were gonna.”

“You’re kidding?”

If there was one thing that Isla knew SAMCRO did not do, it was kill women. Ever.

There had been accidents that saw innocent girls caught in the crossfire—last night, for one—which was inevitable. But the club never went out of their way to end their lives.

“Wish I was, Isla.” Tig’s eyes watered, but she didn’t do anything. She didn’t say anything, either. “I dunno what's happening to me.”

I don’t either, Tiggy.

“I was gonna put that bullet in her and if it wasn’t for Jax—“

“Jax was there?”

“He stormed in after someone must’ve told him we were gonna off the “man” that saw Ope and Bobby kill Hefner at that complex.”

“Oh.” She nodded along, cleaning out the wound she had literally only just fixed yesterday.

But the cogs inside of her brain were slowly turning.

“Oh…” Isla quickly looked down at him, piecing the puzzle together. “Tell me he didn’t do this to you.”

He winced as the whiskey left a searing trail down the back of his throat, barely making eye contact with her before she snapped.

“Tig! Talk to me—“

“Alright, fine! Yeah, he did this!” He raised his voice at her, watching anger flit across her delicate features. “He held his glock to my goddamn head and I was ready for him to pull the trigger, but he didn’t.”

She blinked at him, uneasy at the thought of what Jax had started to morph into. Who he had started to morph into.

“We ended up fighting and I got a few hits in, but the asshole punched me in the fucking face and threw me onto a table—that’s probably where the bruises came from.”

“And this was because of the girl, right?”

“Right.”

“But Happy and my dad were there, too…Why did Jax beat the shit outta you?”

“You know why.”

“No, I don’t,” she grabbed the tumbler from his right hand so he couldn’t silence himself with anymore alcohol, and put it atop the table.

“Because he stormed in when I had the gun to that kid’s head, and I was gonna pull the fucking trigger.” He recounted, sobbing as he spoke.

She was seething. Oh, Isla was fucking furious—but she didn’t want to spook him after this, because he was unpredictable and really unstable. She didn’t want him to do anything stupid.

“It’s alright.” The damp pad was discarded, tossed to the middle of the table when she grabbed gently at his chin and forced him to look upward. “You didn’t kill her, I’m assuming Jax handled it some other way, and you’re outta the blue, okay? It’s fine.”

Maybe Isla was so quick to forgive him for something that he didn’t do because she was also toiling with the idea of coming to terms with an act just as—if not more—treacherous than Tig’s.

She seeked that reassurance, that “it’s okay” talk from somebody after what she had done with her best friend, but she knew that the only person that’d give it to her was Jax. Because he was also trying to accept it.

The guilt was hefty and Tig knew all too fucking well what that’d entail, but he had no idea that Isla was suffering that same thing, too.

“You didn’t know the witness was a kid. None of you were to know that if Rosen didn’t specify.”

“But I was still gonna do it.” He added. “After I found out she was a kid, I was still gonna kill her.”

“But you didn’t.”

He was making it difficult for her to get through to him.

“It was horrible and I know that what you were going to do was bad, but you weren’t the only one there, about to do what you had to for your brother.” Isla’s thumb ran softly underneath his lower lip, hoping the tears welling in her eyes weren’t about to fall to the apples of her cheeks.

Because that’s all that Tig was doing. He was doing this for his brother. For the man that had already sacrificed so fucking much for his club, he deserved every last sliver of prosperity and protection that SAMCRO could offer.

And, perhaps, Tig wanting so desperately to pull that trigger was a way for him to solidify the fact that Opie wasn’t going to be sent away—wasn’t going to suffer more after his wife had been “mysteriously” killed. But Isla simply saw that as him wanting to do an inherently evil thing that’d see the greater good ensue.

Looking past the fact it was a teenage girl, however, was something she had to work on for the sake of her own fucking sanity.

“Thank you.” Tig broke the silence, getting to his feet. He towered over her a little bit as he did so. “See you tomorrow—“

Isla didn’t have enough time to think about what she was doing, but that phrase triggered something inside of her. She grabbed at his hand as he went to slip away, looking up at him with that almost heart-wrenching innocence of hers.

“I did something bad, too.” She blurted, letting her tears fall freely. “I can't say what I did, but it was bad and I regret it every fucking day because I can’t sleep properly, and it’s the only thing on my mind, and I just—“

He silenced her when he wrapped both arms around her trembling frame, holding her impossibly close to his chest as she weepeed into the navy cotton, and he gradually moved a hand upward to twist into her hair.

“It’s alright, baby, let it out.”

Mentally, he commended himself for being the one person that Isla trusted enough to confide in—to crumble before. But it was also sickening because the woman was so fucking stubborn and rarely ever shed a tear in front of a Son.

Chibs was the only one that saw her like this, really.

He felt horrible. Not because she was so upset but because she had so obviously been harboring that emotion, that pain and anguish and she didn’t know how to express it without crying.

“I’m scared, Tig.” Isla mumbled sadly into his chest, trying to sniff back the horrid emotion but failing miserably.

“Of what?”

“Myself. And these stupid things that I can’t stop thinking.”

“Thoughts are normal.” He reassured her, running a hand up and down her back. “Intrusive thoughts are normal. Don’t you worry—“

“You can’t tell me not to worry, because that’s gonna make me worry.” Her words were plied in a weak laugh. “And when I worry, I cry—obviously.”

“Don’t cry.” He chuckled, too, using the pad of his thumb to brush across her cheek. “You’re too pretty to cry this much.”

“And you’re too much of a mean old man to be this comforting.” Tig feigned offense, gasping dramatically at her words. “So, what was it? What pulled at your heartstrings so much that made you think you had to try and make me feel better?”

“It’s my good deed for the day.” Her lips curled upward into a grin when his expression softened.

“Do you think you can extend that good deed?”

He grunted, nodding. “Suppose so. What’d ‘ya want me to do?”

“I was just gonna ask if you’d stay with me again tonight.” All irreverence in her tone had melted away, promptly replaced by a borderline debilitating sincerity. “You don’t have to because we’ve gotta be out early for the funeral tomorrow, and that’d mean you’d have to leave earlier to get yourself fixed up, but—“

“I can leave a little earlier.” He cut her short, still swiping at the tears that wouldn’t quit flowing from her eyes. “If you get your ass up and ready before eight, you can leave with me too.”

“Yeah?” Hopefully, she asked. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.” Tig confirmed, slinging his arm over her shoulder when she pulled away and pointed toward the end of the hall. “And I guessed that you didn’t wanna head to the garage alone—and Gemma would probably beat the shit outta you if you were late—so if you come with me, you’ll be on time.”

Isla just hummed, thankful for the genuine intentions behind Tig’s actions. He was sweet when he wanted to be.

“Where am I sleepin’?” He asked with a little grunt, a twinge of pain prickling against his ribcage. “I’ll take the couch—“

“Oh, shut up. You’re not sleeping on my couch after getting your shit rocked.”

Tig glared at her, but she simply raised an eyebrow. She gestured to her bedroom.

“Y’know, if we keep spending the night together then people are gonna get a little suspicious.”

“Eh. Let ‘em.” Isla stated offhandedly shimmying her shoulders out of her robe, and throwing it onto her vanity stool as she got to her room. “I don’t care what Gemma thinks.”

“Not so much Gemma.” They shared a knowing look, but he followed her into the room and sat at the edge of her bed regardless.

Isla sighed, sitting beside him.

“If you’re worried about my dad because of how he was this morning, then you don’t need to be. I think he’s just a little bit spun out after last night, and feels bad for Ope—‘cuz, y’know, he’s been through this too.”

Tig’s heartbeat hastened to an almost debilitating tempo, wondering how Isla knew the similarities between Diane and Donna. But she blew those thoughts right out his brain when she built on her response.

“He lost his wife and was left with a kid,” she pointed to herself, “and didn’t know how to navigate this life without the woman he’d depended on for so long. It’s just heavy at the moment.”

“Yeah,” he shook his head a little, looking at his hands bunched together in his lap, “you’re probably right about that.”

“It’s all that it is. He’s just feelin’ it a little more than what we are.”

I wouldn’t be so sure about that, Isla.

“Anyway.” She perked up a bit more. “If you wanna freshen up, I’ve got some shampoo and lotions that don’t smell like roses in the bathroom—and I think there might be some razors in one of those cupboards, too.”

“You gonna join me?”

The tips of her ears began to blaze, stippling heat across her cheeks and down to her neck until she could almost feel how red she was getting.

Despite knowing that was a joke—the habitual banter shared between them—it still forced a feeling to swell in her stomach.

A feeling of something that she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

“Maybe tomorrow.” Isla chuckled at the playful pout tugging at his lips, urging him to step into the en suite before she physically fucking exploded.

He grabbed a towel from the pile, walked in, and shut the door behind him, and she threw herself against the top of the comforter with a groan.

At what point had Tig’s harmless flirting turned into something more for Isla, she wasn’t entirely sure. What she did know, however, was that she was definitely enjoying it a little bit too much now.

And that would complicate things, she was certain of it.

But she strived not to let it get to her, and slid underneath the unkempt covers for the second time tonight.

When Tig emerged from the bathroom, he was thankful to see that she’d covered herself up because the tiny crimson cami and shorts combo was killing him.

He wasn’t able to pinpoint just what it was that’d made him feel so differently about that this evening, but he knew that he wasn’t able to get the image out of his fucking head.

“Was that nice?” She asked from the left side of her bed, barely opening her eyes as he stepped onto the carpet.

“It was.” Tig answered softly, picking his jeans up from the ground.

“You can’t seriously be wearing those to sleep in?”

“I’ve slept in more uncomfortable outfits.”

Isla huffed out a breath, gripping the covers and pulling them back. “Wait here.” Begrudgingly, she left the bed again and traipsed toward the cabinet at the end of her hallway.

He watched her saunter away, heeding the crow tattoo on her lower back that he’d never noticed before. He wondered who she’d gotten that for, and he also wondered if anybody even knew about that—because he certainly did not.

“These are clean, you can wear them.” She threw a pair of pajama pants at him from the doorway, hoping he wouldn’t make a face.

Cautiously, he held them out in front of him. “Whose are these?”

“Nobodies. I just learned—from Gemma—to always keep spare shit at my house. Like the shower stuff and razors, and I’ve got things for whoever might need them.”

He smiled, forgetting that she was so thoughtful.

Tig unzipped his pants and slipped into the checkered cotton as Isla rummaged around the bottom drawer of her closet, pulling out a couple of pillows.

“You do this a lot?” He quizzed, getting into bed. “Take care of us guys, I mean.”

“Not really. Only when one of you needs it.”

He nodded, taking one of the two pillows from her.

“Aside from stitching you up two days in a row, the last time I took care of somebody was when Jax and Wendy split and he let her live at his place.”

“He never said.”

“‘Cuz Gemma would go nuts if she found out that he came to me and not his mommy.” She chuckled, settling beside him before flicking the lamp off. “And he only stayed with me for a couple weeks because he didn’t wanna sleep at the clubhouse.”

“So you were harboring Jax from her, huh?” He nudged her, prompting Isla to shift closer to him.

“I guess so.” She joked back through a yawn. “I felt bad for him because she’s such a hardass sometimes. He just wanted somewhere to stay, and somebody to keep him company that wouldn’t ask an abundance of overbearing questions.”

“And you were that somebody.”

“Yup. I was.” Tig turned onto his side to face her. “And I liked it because I hate being alone. It was nice to have somebody around.”

“You? Not wanting to be alone?” Sarcastically, he let out.

Had he not already been hurt, she would’ve slapped the smugness off of his face for that comment.

“What’s that all about, huh?”

“The being alone thing?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t know, really.” She mused quietly, pursing her lips. “I think I just got used to being around my dad, and whenever I wasn’t with him I was with Gemma—and I didn’t move into my own place until I was twenty-three, so…”

“So you always had somebody.”

“Yup. I guess I have some attachment issues.” Isla chuckled, silently thanking him for not ridiculing her the way she thought that he might’ve.

But Tig was always so thoughtful when it came to her, and he probably wouldn’t have been able to find it in himself to make fun of that sentiment.

He had his own issues, too. He wouldn’t dream of mocking that she didn’t like to be alone.

“Is it Jax’s?” He asked out of nowhere in reference to the crow. “The tattoo you got.”

Isla froze. She didn’t know that he’d seen it tonight.

Only Tara knew about that. Only Tara knew about a lot of things, it seemed.

“No.” She rasped, hating the way her words became lodged at the back of her throat.

Tig raised a brow. “Whose is it? Is it Juice’s—“

She snorted at his words, and he smiled because he had finally gaged a more positive reaction. Her smile—though barely visible—was most certainly as beautiful as ever.

“It isn’t anybody’s. It’s just a SAMCRO crow.” The smile was weak, now. Faded and pained, but it was there.

She wasn’t lying, but it felt like there was more to the story than what she was letting on, and he was happy with the answer that he’d gotten. So he didn't push it.

“Would you ever get a crow for someone?” A question that he never thought he’d be asking Chibs’s daughter, but a question that he had to acquire an answer to.

After mulling it over for a few seconds, Isla nodded. She laid her hand atop Tig’s that was resting against his pillow, and flicked her eyes upward to meet his gaze as he yawned.

“Maybe one day. But, right now, I’m happy knowing that my little tattoo represents my dedication to the club as a whole—not just refined to one person.”

[datawyrms]

Irresistible

For PhicPhight! On Ao3

“Earth to clueless one, walking through walls isn’t something you should be doing right now!” Sam’s hiss made him notice the fact something had grabbed his wrist.

“Right, sorry!” He said it without thinking, eyes flicking to Tucker. His other friend looked just as concerned, great. “I don’t think I got enough sleep.”

“When do you ever, dude? You didn’t even sneak out last night.” Still, his more technically inclined friend released his wrist. “Something your parents working on keeping you up?”

“You know we’re fine if you crash in our rooms.” Sam was a little less gentle. “So do that instead of whatever sleepwalking this is.”

“No! Like, I don’t remember not being able to sleep or anything?” Not that it helped, he felt like he’d been awake all night thanks to the weird dreams. “I swear I’m not being a tough guy or whatever.” He rubbed at his forehead, privately wishing his fingers could just push away the fog of exhaustion instead of just making him more aware of how sluggish he felt.

“Maybe you should crash with one of us anyway? You don’t look good.” Tucker’s frown only made the half ghost grumble. “‘Course you never look as good as me, but lately? You’re pulling the two thirds ghost look.”

“Harhar.” He shrugged the suggestion off, even if he was pretty tempted. There wasn’t anything weird in the house that he noticed, and his parents weren’t being any more anti-ghost then usual. He probably slept in a weird position or something. “I don’t think weird underwater dreams are a Fentonworks exclusive.”

“Underwater?” Sam just looked puzzled. “From what? I can’t even remember the last time any of us went swimming.”

“How should I know?” He couldn’t even say it was like flying, because it wasn’t like one of those dreams at all. Too sluggish, none of the freedom he normally felt. “I’ll just nap in math class…”

It had been a joke, really. He didn’t actually mean to sleep in math class, but his desk was cool and his head felt so heavy that he couldn’t resist nodding off. He just wished it had helped more, the bell ringing just made him want to sink into the floor and stay there. Which would probably freak everyone out. Not a good idea. At least the stern talking to he earned for ‘being disrespectful’ went right over his head with it so hazy.

“Dude. Just skip if you’re gonna sleep all day.” Tucker was poking him in the face with a fork. Rude.

“I’m not gonna sleep all day. Relax.” The tines were annoying, but doing more than blindly pushing it away from him was beyond him for the moment.

“Spacing out all day isn’t any better.” Sam’s voice wasn’t a surprise, but the fact she wasn't telling Tucker to stop poking him in the face was.

“I’m not.”

“Tucker’s been poking you for five minutes.”

“Oh.” Really? Hadn’t felt like that. Maybe he had like a ghost cold?

“Just go hide out in the attic, you obviously need it.” The poking stopped, Tucker’s voice low as if he’d leaned closer.

“Can’t miss even more stuff guys…you know that.” Even if he really, really wanted to take that offer right now.

“Well here you’ll just get the teachers angry by snoozing through class. We’ll try and see what’s messing with you after school.”

“Nothing’s messing with me! I think.” His objection wasn’t great, but Sam didn’t seem up to argue with him about it anyway.

Tucker adjusted his hat, avoiding his eyes. “Kinda hope something is, you’re kinda freaking us out.”

Well, that didn’t feel good. He scratched at the back of his head, trying to ignore how his friends kept looking at him like some kind of wounded kitten. He was fine, really! “Well uh. See you after school?” He didn’t give them time to answer before stumbling away from the table to find somewhere quiet to vanish from. He sort of hoped being in his ghost form would have shaken some of his muddled need for sleep, but being colder just made the throbbing behind his eyes feel worse. Not enough to keep him from keeping invisible and slipping into Tucker’s attic, but enough that becoming human again actually made him feel a little less ragged.

It shouldn’t be this easy to huddle in the musty old chair and drop off in the middle of the day. The guilt for doing so alone should make him twist and struggle to get comfortable, but sleep welcomed him eagerly. A part of him worried Nocturn was afoot, but it wasn’t enough to keep him awake.

“You think his parents made something that makes ghosts go dormant or something?”

“Or drain all their energy?

He kind of wanted to ignore the voices and keep sleeping, but shook himself awake. He didn’t need this much sleep, he was fine. If they were here he’d been sleeping for hours already!

“Sleeping beauty awakes.”

Danny rolled his eyes at Tucker’s attempt to pretend they hadn’t been talking about him. “You better not have kissed me.”

“If you kept sleeping for another hour he totally would have.” Sam smirk only grew when Tucker let out an offended squawk.

“Under duress!”

“The meat stench on your breath could wake the dead, so it had to be you.”

“Not dead yet, thanks…” Even if he’d been feeling tired enough to be a corpse today. “Anyone notice?”

“Told Lancer you were sick. He bought it.” Tucker shrugged, tossing a thermos between his hands. “You were really out of it huh?”

“Wait, was there an attack?”

“Nothing we couldn’t handle.” Sam snatched the thermos away, glaring at Tucker as she did so. “You stay here, we’ll check out your house.”

He’d just slept through a ghost attacking? Really? “No way, how would you explain why I’m not with you?”

“Easy. We’ll just say you are, they won’t notice.” The goth scoffed, already halfway to getting the attic door open. “If you can hide being a ghost, we can hide you not being there for an afternoon.”

She sort of had a point there. “Fine. You aren’t gonna find anything. If it was some new gadget I’d say so.”

He kind of hoped they’d prove him wrong, but the concerned and frustrated looks on their faces betrayed that there were no new plans or even an idea to what had gotten him ‘out of sorts’. It was probably just a one off thing anyway, he’d be fine. It wasn’t like his parents were bragging about a new discovery or anything. He probably wouldn’t be able to sleep since he spent so much of the day doing so, though he was still tired...he actually looked forward to dinner being over so he could snuggle under his blankets and look at the little glowing stick on stars of his ceiling before drifting off again.

Only the dream came back. A small, pitiful ghost underwater while something kept calling at him. It wasn’t warm or inviting, more like the command from someone respected. The wisp of a creature couldn’t really ignore it either, it was like a pulse that burrowed inside and thrummed until he responded. They weren’t asking for much. Just wanted him to go hunt ghosts. He always did that anyway, that part was easy.

He didn’t like how the commanding one grabbed him under the chin at his return, but couldn’t find it in him to struggle. They were stronger than he was, he was a subordinate not strong enough to challenge them. A pair, stronger and unknowable with how they’d speak in a language he didn’t understand. He could only watch, green eyes wide for any hint of anger, wanting to make himself smaller, but the creature was little more than a shadow to begin with. Hunt, bring them the prey they wanted, and they’d allow him to exist. A fair trade, really. His core trembled at the idea the clawed hands at his face could easily sink into his chest, he couldn’t risk angering them. Their red eyes saw everything, knew everything. He didn’t want to be around them, but that call was too strong. Those eyes lurked on every surface, a burning red that cut through the weight of the water that was everything as if it wasn’t even there. Their commands became a sort of second skin, but didn’t protect him from the beings deciding to come uncomfortably close, or clutch his thin limbs and take something before letting him slip back into undefined chaos again.

He preferred being told to hunt. Leaving other ghosts, the smaller ones, lesser than even the inkblot he was in the universe to be looked over and examined while he remained mostly untouched. Still wispy, mostly undefined outside of his eyes, unlike the remains of those who ‘earned’ the greater ones full attention. No time to rest, just going and going until they claimed he’d done enough.

Being dismissed wasn’t a free pass to do as he pleased though. It was still a command, something he had to obey lest they show him why they were in charge. To go in hiding, be unseen, do nothing until they wanted him to hunt again. That should be easy, simple, but it made his tail ache and his heart lurch. He didn’t only want to hunt, he wanted to do not-ghost things.

Yet the figures didn’t care what a weaker ghost wanted to do. They’d find out. He had to hide.

Danny just felt exhausted. As if the dream had made him as tired as the ghost he was in that nightmare. Which couldn’t be true, he didn’t care about stronger ghosts and what they wanted. He’d fought the king of ghosts! He had a track record of flipping off authority when it suited him better. It didn’t push away the heavy weight in his head that only begged him to go back to sleep. Maybe he really was just sick.

Sick enough to get sent right back to bed by his mom when he slumped down for breakfast, her concern nice, but also discomforting. She held her hand at his forehead for a touch too long, seemed to stare into his eyes enough to make him want to avert them. Her gentle nudging to get some more sleep nearly had him bolting up the stairs. Like he had to go that moment. Rubbing at his temples didn’t dissuade the feeling, but the pressure lifted somewhat when he was back in bed and covered in blankets. Some stupid leftover feeling from that dream or something. He wasn’t hiding.

“Danny? You okay under there?” Jazz’s question just felt like a nail to his skull, and he hoped she could see the displeasure in his eyes as he poked out from under the blankets to glare at her.

“I might be if someone didn’t wake me up.” The sunlight peeking in from the windows only soured his mood, he should have closed the blinds.

“Well, someone’s grumpy.” Either she didn’t see his annoyance, or she was deliberately ignoring it. “Mom said you don’t have a fever, but you run pretty cold...do you want something for it?”

“It’s just a headache.”

“Sure, mister ‘I ignored a bone fracture’ is crippled by a headache. Not buying it.”

“That was meant to be a secret, who snitched?” His frustration just made him feel uncomfortably warm, they knew he hated it when Jazz fussed over that stuff. Maybe he should ignore their calls for a bit.

“No one did, I actually pay attention when you start favouring your left hand.” Her frown just made him want to duck back out of sight. “You sure you don’t need anything? Anything mom and dad wouldn’t think you need?”

For a smart person, Jazz could be incredibly unsubtle. “No. I’m just worn out, or something.” He didn’t feel like coughing or sneezing, or even the gurgling discomfort of an upset stomach. It couldn’t be that serious. “You’ll be late if you keep standing there.”

“Let us know if you think of anything!” She was already halfway down the hall while saying that, not getting to see how her brother rolled his eyes and ducked back under the blankets. Her biggest weakness, other obligations. Not that it would help after school. He’d be fine by then, probably. Just some peace and quiet and he’d be back to normal. Just like he said yesterday. Only for real this time. Positive thinking, or whatever.

He did feel a bit better now that it was quiet. Still tired, but his head wasn’t pounding as much as it was whenever someone insisted on talking to him.

He figured he’d just sleep, maybe play Doomed once he was more awake. Step one, sleeping had been going well, but Mom and Dad had other plans jeopardizing that. Since when did they listen to music while they worked? With enough base that he could feel it rattling his bones no less. Covering his ears couldn’t do much about that. Trying to ignore it, or hope they were just messing with something for a minute and it would stop wasn’t getting anywhere either. So why was he just hesitating up here? They probably didn’t even notice it was so loud, or forgot he was home sick. He shook his legs to try and wake them up after he wobbled with his first steps to the door. Maybe he could- no, there wasn’t any reason to just wait.

When had they gotten so many stairs anyway? Danny found himself gripping the railing as if he was seven again, worried about slipping as if he didn’t run down them two at a time normally. He hesitated at the bottom, eyes scanning the ground floor for a sign of the scientists. The awful noise didn’t seem much louder, but he felt every beat of it as his heart seemed to slip into sync. He didn’t want to risk more stairs, he was imagining things. He opened his mouth to speak, coughing instead over how dry it felt. Sleeping with his mouth open, duh. His second attempt went better, but was not as much of a shout as he planned it to be. “Mom? Dad? Can you turn it down?”

He waited. Nothing. It must be too loud for them to hear him over the din of that deafening pulse. Keeping one ear covered the boy edged to the lab’s staircase, staring down them as if he was looking from a mountaintop, a deadly drop. He so didn’t want to go down there, to go closer to whatever the heck it was. “Dad? Mom?” He called again, trying to ignore how his voice cracked at the question. He wasn’t scared of a staircase! His heart kept pounding in his ears, knuckles going white as he kept his hands in anxious fists. Everything told him to get back, to stay away, but couldn’t stand the noise. Besides, what if it was hurting them? Maybe that’s why they didn’t answer? Worry for them helped push back the seaping cold, heading down to the lab faster than he’d managed to get down from his room.

It was brightly lit, normal but cold. He could see them, hunched over a work desk and unharmed. The glare made his eyes hurt, pausing to rub at them. They seemed blurry, even though he wasn’t that far away. “Uh, Mom, Dad? Can you turn down whatever you’re working on? I can’t sleep.” He asked, unable to convince his legs to step a bit closer, feeling too tired to make any extra effort.

“Turn down what sweetie?” She turned to face him, making his blood try to turn to ice in his veins. She sounded right, said the right thing-but he was already trying to back up the stairs. Was she taller? “Sweetie? You look pale.”

“T-The noise.” The answer sputtered from him unbidden as he tried desperately to figure out what was wrong with-with-his mom? The echoed pounding told him no, it wasn’t, but who else could it be. “I can hear it upstairs.”

She approached with a too long stride, his own legs slipping in his blind step upwards. Pain from his elbow slamming into the edge of the staircase managed to rip through him even while everything else felt slow. She only quickened towards him as he cursed, trying to crabwalk backwards from the mother-that-was-not.

“Danny! Are you okay? Let me help you.” She grabbed him around the shoulders and he froze, a rabbit being watched by a hawk. She was too real, too solid, she could easily rip through him. “Maybe we should get you to the doctor honey, there’s isn’t anything on down here.”

Should he squirm away? She was lying about the sound, it kept pounding against him like a tide and he had no way to ride the wave clutched as he was. “There is, the thing over there-” He didn’t know what it was, but he could feel it, that it was over with the other figure, the one who hadn’t come to snag an intruder.

The hand on his forehead burned, but he couldn’t flinch away. “Sweetie, I think I’d know if your Dad was playing it.” The eyes bore into him, scanning him for any slight movement. “Jack, can you start the RV? I think we should take Danny to emergency.”

The other figure moved, massive, larger than he could imagine. It might hurt him, it might hurt his mom! “S-Stay back!” He yelled, a spark of energy finding its way to him. He couldn’t let his mom get attacked by whatever this was- no wonder she seemed strange, this thing was doing it.

“Well I gotta get up the stairs Danno! You don’t look good, you just wait there.” It was speaking as it came closer, but all it did was make the bile rise in his throat as it pretended to be his father. He squirmed free to stumble forward and block this thing from his mom, eyes burning green as he tried to shove past the exhaustion and fight.

“I said STAY BACK!”

The figure paused at his shriek and wild eyed fury, face unreadable. “Danny?” His voice was low, booming in a way that started to drain all his prior hope to fight the thing off. “Madds? I don’t think emergency can fix what he’s got.”

Claws sunk into his back, his neck aching at the speed used to look back at his mother, too long fingers tight on his shoulders and keeping hims still as he stared up and felt even smaller. “You don’t think he’s possessed?” She wasn’t talking to him, and that was a relief even as his heart tried to run off without him with how fast it wanted to go.

“Y-You did something to my mom.” The accusation made it easier to keep on his feet, but didn’t lessen her grip or stop the giant from approaching. “Take your noisemaker and get out!” If it was gone, it’d be fine, they’d be safe, he was sure of it.

“Danny, that’s your dad sweetie. Not a monster.” The voice was gentle, but he could feel how the arms shook, how she  increased the strength of her grip so he couldn’t pull away again. “You keep doing your best to fight that ghost off Danny, dad will help you.”

The larger figure grabbed the horrible silver device, the red gems adorning the horn’s buttons making him feel empty and helpless. “S-Stop it, you can’t let it use that mom!” He pleaded, but she didn’t release him, just pulled him closer to the smothering warmth. “Please, listen to me!” Of course she didn’t, controlled by that thing, twisted into thinking it was Dad, that it was quiet. Becoming intangible let him slip free, but he only managed two steps before the behemoth blew a long sustained note that made his skin vibrate and eyes swim. He crumpled to the cool floor, staring up at the monster in a silent horror. He couldn’t fight this thing- he’d been a fool to try and the red eyes promised retribution for his behaviour.

“Get out of my son right now, ghost.” It snarled, pointing directly at his crumpled form so he could not pretend to misunderstand. Yet he’d given an order he couldn’t follow. His core screeched in terror as his heart pounded, he couldn’t get out. Yet he had to, or this thing would devour him, shred him to nothing with nothing but sound. He could only try the closest he could get to ‘out’ of his own skin, shuddering as flesh melted to ectoplasm, trying not to scream as suit replaced skin. Not his normal transformation, this one was too slow- too confused by the order he couldn’t follow to make it an instantaneous change. He had to show he wasn’t wearing his human skin, show how completely he changed. Dying slowly, bit by bit  to be someone else. Not ‘his son’. His enemy. Green eyes stared back at the red ones as he panted, unsure if the monster was pleased.

It was furious, stepping forward as he shrank back and pulled his ghostly tail around himself. “I told you to get out.”

“I can’t.” He whimpered, wanting to look away but unable to.

Another voice behind him, the mom that wasn’t spoke. Yet he didn’t understand a word of it, too terrified by the being in front of him to even process it as language.

“Don’t lie to me Phantom. Get out of my son before we tear you out.”

His name made him flinch, gloved hands clutching at his head as the impossibility of that tore at his mind. “I’m not, I swear, I can’t get out of myself!” How could he not be in his son when he was his son? He had to find a way, his slowed but still pounding heart offering some idea.

“Don’t you dare pretend to be my son, ghost.”

He wanted to explain he wasn’t pretending, that he wasn’t disobeying on purpose but the massive thing had him by the collar of his jumpsuit, leaving him busy trying to breathe enough to speak. If he wasn’t a hybrid, then maybe the monster would be satisfied? He didn’t get much time to wonder before getting tossed in a containment cell. “I’m not pretending- the accident…” he mumbled, trying to make himself look smaller as if he could hide from the hateful eyes that way. They stared at him, spoke gibberish to one another as the previous exhaustion came back with a vengeance. Keeping still felt like the best idea. When the bigger one locked eyes with him and ordered that he sleep, he did.

Dreaming and waking became one and the same. He stayed in his cage unless ordered out. They kept asking him the impossible, until he tried to rip out his heart to ‘separate’ through death. They didn’t want their son harmed- didn’t see how separating was harm, but did not destroy him for that blunder. He hunted, brought them what they wanted. They kept watching as if expecting him to disobey, to slip his leash even as he practically groveled when they approached. He hoped Mom was okay, wherever she was. Maybe Jazz could rescue her from the monster with the cornet on spring break. A ghost couldn’t. A ghost simply obeyed.

Prompt: Danny hasn't been feeling himself, blacking out and having strange dreams. Unbeknownst to him, Freakshow's staff was not the only artifact that could control ghosts. Even worse, Jack and Maddie are the ones who get their hands on that object.

[heliads]

A Matter of Metal

Based on this request: “an alternate version of magneto’s son and been in shield and been really close to hill and fury so sword has sent him to investigate the hex with the trio and he has the same powers of magneto and basically wants what agatha wants wanda powers and basically betrays sword/shield”

masterlist

Three people sit at a table. They are each dressed in shades of navy and black, guns obvious on hips and knives hidden on shins. The flickering glare of a fluorescent light casts shadows across the room. Despite all the resources of S.H.I.E.L.D., they’ve never bothered to get it fixed. The man, one black eye patch hidden in shadow, sits closer to the woman, whose dark hair is clinically pulled away from her face. They stare at a second man, one who returns their gaze without a shard of hesitation. Between the three of them, they know enough secrets about S.H.I.E.L.D. and the various governments to tear down the entire fabric of the world.

Instead, their focus is on a manila file folder, one that’s been slid across the table to the second man. He eyes it coolly. “You want me to investigate Wanda Maximoff?” Fury nods. “S.W.O.R.D. claims to have it under control. I’m not sure how much of that I believe.” Maria Hill gestures towards the folder. “You’ll be there as our eyes and ears. S.W.O.R.D. is willing to accept our help, but we’re fairly certain it’s only as a way to get us off of their back. You’ll have to be careful, Y/N, but we think you’ll be able to find out more than they’re letting on.”

Y/N raises an eyebrow. “At this rate, I’m not sure whether you’re sending me because you trust me or because you want to see what would happen if you sent another agent with abilities to tangle with Maximoff.” Fury chuckles at that. “Are you sure your powers don’t include mind reading? I can’t keep anything from you.” Y/N lets his stony facade break for a second as he laughs. “That’s why we’re such good friends.”

Hill smirks. “If you consider Fury a best friend forever, I’m getting worried about your mental state. You sure you’re up for this job?” Y/N grins. “I’m the only one you trust. If I wasn’t ready, you wouldn’t have asked me about it at all.” Fury nods. “You’re not just there to watch and wait, L/N, you’re there to act. If you feel the need to intervene, do so at will. We’ll defend you to S.W.O.R.D.”

The barest hint of curiosity flares across Y/N’s eyes. “You want me to go behind S.W.O.R.D.’s back?” Fury shrugs. “We want you to make the right decisions, even if they happen to be against S.W.O.R.D. direction. Use discretion, but do what you must.” Y/N nods, then begins to rise from his chair. “When do I leave?” Fury and Hill stand as well. “Whenever you’re willing. The first trucks leave in a couple of hours.”

Y/N turns to go, but a call from Fury makes him glance over at the man again. “And L/N? Take care. From what I’ve heard, things aren’t exactly smooth sailing over there.” A devil-sharp grin makes its way onto Y/N’s face. “Trust me, Fury. I can take care of myself.” Just as he says that, the room begins to shake. It’s not much, barely noticeable, but still there. Every metal thing in the room begins to contort for just a second, and then the moment passes and they smooth themselves back out again once Y/N disappears from the room.

Y/N heads quickly to his apartment. It’s not far from S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, carefully chosen for an easy escape if necessary. In this case, Y/N won’t be running away from anything. Instead, he’ll be running towards something, a risky shot that just might plunge him into a scenario far more dangerous than either Fury or Hill realizes. That’s why they’re sending Y/N, after all. No matter what, he always comes out on top, regardless of how deadly the situation ends up turning. In fact, the darker the scene, the better he works.

Y/N begins to fill a black case with a number of supplies. Clothing, weapons, you name it. Just as the case begins to fill, he pauses, and turns to a gunmetal gray box almost hidden in the back of the room. Y/N kneels before it almost reverently, and lifts the lid. Inside lies a helmet of dark metal, one that would be snug to the skull but extends down, cut away from the eyes like those of the Ancient Greeks. Y/N’s eyes close as he holds the helmet in his hands. It was not his, not at first. No, it belonged to his father. Erik Lehnsherr.

Erik had raised Y/N, both by his presence and his absence. They both shared the same ability to manipulate metal, to raze the earth if they wished. The only difference was that Erik was long gone, and Y/N was forced to stay here today. Y/N isn’t sure if Erik was dead or alive, or if that even mattered. Erik had vanished one night in a cloud of smoke, with the yells of men echoing over the pounding of heels on asphalt. He could be dead, or missing, or simply choosing never to return. In all honesty, it didn’t matter. Y/N remembers the key detail- the look of anguish on Erik’s face as he realized he was losing his family again, one final blow in a sea of countless injuries.

When Y/N leaves for the S.W.O.R.D. encampments, there is a metal helmet hidden in the black case on the seat beside him. He does not let it out of his sight for a second.

The truck is rocking back and forth, heavy tires digging deeply into muddy ruts as it travels along an only semi-paved road on the way to Westview, New Jersey. Y/N sits in the back with a couple of other new arrivals, but he does not speak to them. He rides with these nervously chattering brains and muscle only because he does not wish to stand out amongst the residents of the Westview encampment. Few people know the true importance of Agent Y/N L/N, and it’s best to keep his high level under wraps. This want for secrecy, however, is not enough to force him to converse with the others. Everyone has their limits, he supposes. This is his.

Y/N can sense the Westview encampment before he even looks out the tinted windows to see it. He can feel the boundary pressing in around him, the tendrils of magic practically reaching out to wrap around his brain. Y/N’s power is raw, has always called to others like it. Apparently his magnetism doesn’t just extend to metals. As the truck carries him closer to Wanda’s energy barrier, a pounding in his skull gets worse and worse, feeling like an anvil slamming against his temples.

Y/N does his best to hide any signs of weakness, but he must have a slight sheen of sweat glistening across his forehead or something, because S.W.O.R.D. Director Hayward raises an eyebrow when he greets Y/N outside of the truck. “You alright there, agent? What, you get sick on the way over?” Y/N isn’t in the mood for politicking. “You might consider questioning your driver instead. I think I’ve seen more technical skill in a fifteen year old with a learner’s permit.” As Y/N strides away, he sees a trio of friends exchange glances as they try to hold back laughter. He recognizes them in passing- Woo, Rambeau, Lewis, present in the S.H.I.E.L.D. databases thanks to their experience with Avenger-level threats.

Y/N arrives late in the afternoon, and sits in on a couple of debriefings before night falls over the encampment. S.W.O.R.D. isn’t exactly following through with the laissez-faire attitude they highlighted in their project write-up, but Y/N assumes that a few details were embellished to make sure Fury didn’t come after them. These details would include an accidental send-off of one Monica Rambeau into the so-called Hex, and a later disappearance of a S.W.O.R.D. spy at the hands of Wanda Maximoff when the man had been discovered creeping into Westview via the sewer system.

Clearly embarrassed to present these findings to an extension of S.H.I.E.L.D., Hayward had decided to wait on any further activity regarding Westview until the next day, or at least until things cooled down with Wanda herself and with the tensions already simmering between Director Hayward and the trio of Woo, Rambeau, and Lewis. Y/N waits until action on the encampment is beginning to settle down, when the dark cloak of night will hide his silhouette, and then slips out of his assigned bunk, heading towards the barrier to Westview.

If he thought the call to the magical energy was bad in the truck, it is a thousand times worse here. Yet the pure power of the boundary calls to Y/N even as it pushes him away. Y/N walks until he’s mere inches away from the shimmering scarlet surface. Around him, guards ignore his sudden appearance, their scopes and tech not picking up his figure. Y/N smiles to himself. It’s funny how easy it is to manipulate all that metal. Erik would have loved it.

Y/N turns his focus back to the barrier of Westview. He considers it for a moment, then pulls his father’s helmet from where it was hidden under his coat. He slips it on, and the pain dissipates to almost nothing. What remains instead is that same hunger, that same want for the power right before his eyes. Y/N reaches out a hand to touch the barrier, and his eyes widen for just a second as he makes contact. It is amazing how much is right there for the taking. Without another glance, Y/N steps through the barrier into Westview.

Agent Y/N L/N has been missing for only a couple of hours. Director Hayward issued a statement telling everyone at the encampment that L/N was out on a S.W.O.R.D.- authorized mission, that he will be back soon. Some people believe him, but more notice the crease of fury that has appeared on his brow, or the clench of his knuckles as he storms into the tech center where Darcy Lewis and Monica Rambeau currently watch the live feed of a drone,  one that has just been sent into Westview.

Hayward stomps up to the group, considers the monitor for a second, then nods to an awaiting technician. “Take the shot.” Monica, who had been speaking to Wanda through a microphone, freezes. “What?” Her panic is not enough to stop the missiles from clicking into position on the drone, or to have any impact on Wanda, whose eyes glow red as she shuts down all S.W.O.R.D. control of the drone. Monica’s live feed flickers into static.

Scarlet bands of energy wrap over the drone, and she turns away from it. Wanda does not notice the failsafe missiles still preparing to fire, or notice that anything is wrong at all until the launched missiles crumple in a tangle of wires and screeching metal. Wanda whirls around to see a man in a metal helmet standing across the street, his eyes fixed impassively on her. He releases his clenched fist, letting the buckling metal fall to the ground in tandem with his lowered arm. Wanda stares at him. “Who are you?” Y/N returns her gaze. “Someone who can help you get what you want.”

Scores of S.W.O.R.D. agents are clustering around the Westview barrier, watching as it flashes scarlet, rent apart as a woman steps through. She is dragging a broken drone, which she tosses at their feet. As she speaks, fear and apprehension begin to dawn on the faces of the gathered agents. Monica Rambeau steps forward and attempts to reason with Wanda. Director Hayward realizes that this negotiation tactic isn’t working and tries another option: outright threats.

Yet Wanda Maximoff does not seem concerned by the soldiers pointing guns at her, or at least not until Hayward snaps his fingers and a wave of fully automated weaponry focuses on her. “They’re not humans,” Hayward calls, “You can’t control their minds.” Then another voice echoes out from behind Wanda. “But I can.”

Y/N L/N, clad in his father’s metal helmet, steps through the barrier. He raises his arm, and all scraps of metal crash and crumple together, surrounding Hayward with piles of useless waste. Hayward stares. “Agent L/N? What are you doing?” Y/N laughs, the sound deep in his throat. “I’m making my choice.” Hayward seems taken aback by this betrayal. “What would Fury say?” Then, quieter, “What would your father say?”

An edge of stone hardens in Y/N’s eyes. “I wouldn’t know, because he is gone. Do you know what I remember from that night? I remember my father fighting to get back to me, but he was forced away because of your organizations and petty squabbles, all because you’re scared of people like us. People with powers. So, now that you mention it, I think he would be proud of me. I’m finally continuing what he always wanted.”

Hayward’s eyes narrow. “You would turn your back on S.H.I.E.L.D., on S.W.O.R.D., on everything, for what? A chance to use your powers whenever you wanted? You could do that here, you know.” Y/N appears disinterested. “Where you’ll hold it over me for the rest of my life? I’d rather not.” Hayward glares. “This is your final warning. We will be coming after you.” Y/N raises his arm again, and the gathered S.W.O.R.D. agents flinch away. “Actually, you won’t. I plan to make that very clear.”

Y/N’s eyes glint, and the entire encampment begins to shudder. Hayward turns to his officers as he realizes the unfortunate truth- everything here, the walls, the weapons, the tech, it’s all made of metal. A cold smile spreads onto Y/N’s face as he watches the encampment crash to the ground in a hail of sparks and ruined scrap, weeks worth of research gone in an instant. Y/N turns his back on S.W.O.R.D., holding out a hand to Wanda. “Ready to go back?” She nods, smiling, and accompanies him back inside the barrier.

Wanda is grateful for a new ally. It’s a shame, though, for if she were to see inside Y/N’s head she would see no desire to help her. Instead, what lurks underneath that helmet is an all-consuming want for vengeance, for power, for everything Wanda can give Y/N and even more that he can take from her. Even after just a couple of hours in Westview, Y/N realized that Wanda represents an untapped source of power, one that Y/N could call to himself as easily as drawing breath.

His lip curls when he thinks of Hayward’s last words to him. Mentioning Y/N’s father? That was a low blow. And besides, it didn’t even work. Y/N could laugh to think of how little Hayward knew of Erik Lehnsherr. Had Hayward known a fraction of Erik’s true goals, of all of his attempts to reinstate control to mutants and people with abilities, he would never have allowed Y/N onto his little base in the first place.

What would Erik think of Y/N’s decision? He’d be proud. As Y/N disappears into the shrouded city of Westview, feeling his own powers grow with every second that he spent around that beacon of energy known to the world as Wanda Maximoff, he sends out one last thought to his father. I’m doing what you would have wanted. I’m continuing the cause. S.H.I.E.L.D. had always held Y/N back, but he’s finally broken off all chains. It’s time to begin again. It’s time to create a new world, one where power is given to those deserving of it.

If Wanda Maximoff had any idea what would happen to her perfect little town, she would have run long ago.

wanda maximoff tag list: @mionemymind​ @xxxtwilightaxelxxx​    

[arashikitten]

Monkie Kid Soulmate Au

Thank you, MKD, for helping me create this monstrosity. 

I noticed there weren’t any soulmate au’s for Monkie Kid yet so I decided to make one Myself!

In this au, there are three types of soulmate a person can have: the typical romantic soulmate, platonic soulmate (i.e. best friends, family, things of that nature), and enemy soulmates (rivals, nemesis, mortal enemies, things along that line). People can have multiple soulmates, and in fact it is very common for people to have three or more at any given point! It is also possible for someone to have only one or two types of soulmate: for example, someone who is asexual might only have platonic soulmates and/or enemy soulmates. 

As for how one identifies their soulmate, a small mark/symbol will appear on the wrist, palm, or back of the person a year before they meet their soulmate in person, at which point the mark will take on color. The placement of the marks often determines the type of bond: a mark on the palm indicates a romantic bond, on the wrist indicates a platonic bond, and on the back indicates an enemy bond (that being said, there have been instances where this rule does not apply).

Now that that’s out of the way, let’s get into the meat of this au!

Red Son is born with two soulmarks: A stylized, cartoon bull head, and a large, red and gold fan. They both appear on his back, and from a young age, he tries to ignore the possibility that his own parents may one day become his worst enemies. He grows up very close to DBK and Iron fan: he wants desperately to maintain a good relationship with them, and he ends up cutting off any sort of interaction with anyone else.

DBK gets sealed under the mountain, and Red’s world shatters. Both he and Iron fan grieve for a long time, and Red Son now feels even more alone. 

So, he starts attempting to free his father from his prison under the mountain.

Fast forward about 300 years, to when MK is born without a single mark. He grows up and for ten years, his palms, wrists and back remain blank.

Then, about a month after his tenth birthday, a small, grey dragon appears, wrapped around his wrist, along with a grey cartoon pig wearing a chef’s hat (Pigsy) and a small cicada (Mr. Tang). 

Six months later, MK gets kicked out of his home, living on the streets for five months until, late one night, Pigsy finds him in the alleyway next to the noodle shop (The small stylized monkey face on Pigsy’s wrist glows with color. He and Tang adopt Mk two weeks later.). 

Mei walks into the shop about a month later, while Tang is telling MK a story from Journey to the West. All three of the soul marks on her wrist light up, and she and Mk become best friends over a game of Monkey mech.

Six years later, Red Son wakes up with a grey, stylized Monkey face on his palm, and a small dragon wrapped around his left wrist. He despises them both; he begins wearing finger-less gloves, if only so that he doesn’t have to see the grinning face of the Demon who sealed his father away staring up at him every day. Besides, he doesn’t need other soul mates: Once his father is free, Red Son’s family will be whole again, and they will rule the world with an iron fist (Note that at this point, Red is in complete denial that DBK and Iron fan could be his enemies: the fact that their marks showed up on his back indicates that they will become his worst enemies, so Red has spent his entire life trying desperately to ensure that doesn’t happen.). (He still fails in the end)

Mei and Mk both wake up that same morning with a new soulmark: A small, stylized flame that appears on Mk’s palm and on Mei’s wrist. They both gush to each other about it over a bowl of noodles, Mei is excited to get a new bestie while Mk is freaking out over the fact that he may have a boyfriend/girlfriend in a years time (Note: I 100% headcanon Mk as both gay and trans: but I like to think he struggled a bit more with his sexuality. At this point, Mk is still questioning it a bit, but by the time the events of episode one roll around, he’s pretty sure of his identity. Mei is ace, Red Son is Bi, Pigsy is Pan, and Mr. Tang is gay.). Mk also gains a small peach on his right wrist, and he and Mei speculate as to why only Mk got a second mark (Way up on Flower Fruit Mountain, Sun Wukong gains a new soul mark for the first time in 400 years. This prompts him to begin looking into possibly getting a successor).

Mei, Mk, Pigsy, and Mr. Tang also get two marks on their backs: a demon head and an iron fan. Mk and Mr. Tang, upon seeing what exactly the marks are, absolutely freak out. They both firmly believe that the marks represent DBK and Princess Iron fan, and the implication that two very powerful demons might be going after them in a year’s time is more than enough to scare the two. Pigsy and Mei are a bit more skeptical, citing that DBK and Iron fan are just myths, and even if they weren’t, DBK would still be trapped under the mountain by the Monkey King’s staff. 

This only freaks the other two out more, as that carries the implication that DBK will be free to wreak havoc on the world in a year’s time. So, MK and Mr. Tang begin to delve even deeper into the lore surrounding DBK and Sun Wukong, desperately trying to prepare just in case (Sun Wukong actually happens to overhear one of these study sessions while he’s out searching for a successor, and is impressed by Mk’s knowledge of him. He decides to keep an eye on the kid, and eventually makes the choice to make him his successor.).

As the year progresses, MK gets three new enemy marks:a dark grey spider on his shoulder (It scares the hell out of MK the first time he sees it, and he smacks it multiple times before realizing that it’s not an actual spider. He then proceeds to panic even more when he realizes it’s a soulmark.), a more menacing version of Mk’s own soul mark that appears on his lower back (three guesses as to who that one belongs to), and finally, a pale grey skull right in the middle of Mk’s shoulder blades, larger than any other soulmark so far. With each new enemy mark, Mk becomes more and more nervous: Just what will happen to give him so many enemies?

Meanwhile, Red Son gains only one new mark: the same pale grey skull, right in between the fan and the bull head. This one worries Red Son the most: while he has never actually seen the white bone spirit, he’s heard several disturbing horror stories over the years, and the idea of becoming allies or gods forbid, enemies with the cruel creature makes the fire demon nervous. 

Then, we get to the pilot. Red frees his father, MK gets the staff, and the chase across the city ensues. Red returns to the lair empty handed and bruised. He heads to his room to patch up, when he notices a small flare of bright, emerald green on his wrist. Pulling off the finger-less gloves, Red Son sees that the dragon is now a bright, glowing green. The mark on his palm has also taken on a color, bright reds mixing with vibrant golds as the colored monkey mark on his palm smiles up at him. 

That’s when it clicks: The only two people he’d encountered today, aside from his mother and father, are the Noodle Boy and the mysterious person on the bike. 

Red Son furiously vows that he will never, ever side with the Noodle boy, even if it kills him, and he will remain steadfastly loyal to his mother and father (From then on, he takes extra care to hide his palms and wrists from his parents, out of the intense fear that they will cast him out if they learn of who exactly the marks represent.) (it doesn’t work).

Meanwhile, Mk is freaking the fuck out. He can wield the Monkey King’s staff, he just saw one of the most powerful demons get freed from a 300+ year prison, confirming his theory that DBK and Iron fan are the two marks on his shoulder blades (Both of which, Mk notes, gained color that day, further confirming that they relate to DBK and Iron fan.), he got chased all over town by Red Son (who Mk recognizes from the myths), and to top it all off, the flame mark on his palm turned a bright, royal blue sometime between him leaving to deliver noodles, and him getting back to the shop, and the only other person that Mk encountered during that time that even remotely fits the mark is, you guessed it, Red Son. 

Mk relays all of this to the gang, at which point Mei notices that the flame on her wrist has also turned bright blue, providing even further confirmation. Mk is very much bummed out by this, because out of all the people that could’ve been the fire on his palm, of course it had to be the demon who attempted to kill him.

Still, Mk pushes that to the side in favor of focusing on finding the Monkey King. 

The pilot continues much in the same way as in canon, with one notable exception: When Iron Fan shows up on the gang’s way to Flower Fruit mountain, she sees the small blue flame on MK’s palm. Putting two and two together, she realizes that her son is soulbound to MK, and that this bond may eventually cause Red to turn on his parents, which is why Iron Fan and DBK begin to push him away in later episodes. 

After that, things resume canon again: MK survives and gets to Flower Fruit Mountain, Wukong tells him that he chose Mk to be his successor (Which is when the peach mark on MK wrist gains color, and Mk proceeds to lose his entire shit over the fact that holy fuck, he’s soul bonded to Sun freaking Wukong. Wukong finds this both utterly hilarious and a little bit adorable.), the big fight between DBK and Mk happens, yada yada yada. The day is saved, and Mk goes home with his newfound powers.

Episode one is where we begin to see more long-term changes. By this point, both DBK and Iron fan know that their son is bound to the little thief, most likely romantically, and that their own blue flame mark is located on their backs, implying that Red Son will most likely turn against them in the near future. So, they start to distance themselves from him. 

They send Red to take control of the weather station and defeat MK, something that both of them know will end in failure. Red Son is oblivious to this (not really) and gladly takes on the task, desperate to prove himself. And t first, it seems that Red is actually successful!

...Before Mk comes back with a new grip on his powers and absolutely destroys Red Son. 

Red Son goes back to the lair, sparks still flying off of him, and on his way to his room, he overhears quiet conversation between his parents.

Curious, he quietly listens in, and finds out that not only do his parents know about the mark on his palm (How??? How did they find out???), but they are also planning on a way to get him “out of the picture”. 

Red Son absolutely panics at this revelation, and begins to spiral into waves of self-loathing and intense anxiety. Now he is desperate to remain on his parent’s good side by any means necessary, and so he buries himself in plans and research on powerful artifacts that he can steal for his father. 

While that’s going on, Mk meets the spider queen (The Spider on his shoulder becomes purple and green, and Mk spends three hours scrubbing at it in the shower that night), the whole clone thing happens, Mei gets her sword, and the calabash incident goes down (the main difference here is that when Mk hears that Red Son was also sealed away with his parents, Mk feels inexplicably upset about it: as much as he dislikes the fire demon, there’s still a small part of him that desperately wants them to be friends.). At this point, both Mk and Mei have kinda just accepted that the blue flame mark exists, and they don’t pay it too much attention, even if Mk kinda wants to know more about the hotheaded fire demon.

Then the race rolls around. At this point, Red is a nervous, paranoid wreck, his self esteem (which really wasn’t all that great to begin with) is deteriorating at a frightening speed, and he is desperate for a chance to prove to his parents that he is loyal, that he’s not worthless. 

So when he hears that the winner of this year’s great wall race will receive a peach of immortality, he rushes to apply for it. He excitedly tells Iron Fan, fervently hoping that she’ll at least listen to him, only to be crushed when she dismisses him out of hand, saying that even if the peaches could do  anything for them, it wouldn’t change all of Red Son’s failures in the past. Red Son, disheartened, still joins the race, and is absolutely furious when he sees that both Mk and Mei (When Red found out that she’s a descendant of one of the great dragons, he started calling her “Horse Girl” under the assumption that the dragon she is descended from was the dragon horse from Journey to the West) also entered. He starts arguing and bantering with them, and for just a moment, Red feels... content. Not happy, per se, but the constant anxiety and paranoia begins to lessen for a moment.

Then DBK and Iron fan show up, and Red Son goes silent. His back goes rigid, and his eyes glaze over a bit. Mei and Mk both take notice of the Fire demon’s sudden change in demeanor, and even though they still both think he’s a bit of a prick, they can’t help but be a bit concerned. 

Mk is actually about to say something to Red when Jin and Yin hijack the commentator’s box, and the race starts. 

The race goes mostly the same as in canon, with the main exeptions being that Red is far quieter and more focused, and Iron Fan’s taunts are much crueller and more demeaning.

Mei and Mk win, with Red Son getting second place. Instead of attempting to steal the peach trophy, Red Son just... watches them, looking almost broken as he watches the two celebrate. Mk, noticing the strange behavior, reaches out to ask if Red is ok (The reaction the fire demon had to his parents showing up set off all sorts of alarms in Mk’s head, because that had been exactly how he reacted back when he still lived with his parents.), only to be interrupted by DBK’s reemergence from the mountain. 

Iron fan tells Red Son that they are leaving, and Mk immediately picks up on what’s going on. He calls out to Red  just before Iron Fan’s winds whisk him away, and terrified look that the fire demon sends him confirms Mk’s suspicions.

That night, Mk comes up with a plan: He’s gonna get Red Son away from his parents, or die trying. The only other person who knows at first, is Mei: She also has Red Son’s soul mark, and while she’s not as keen on the fire demon as Mk is, she still doesn’t want him to have to deal with abusive parents.

While Mk is doing that, DBK and Iron Fan have fully leaned into the enemy role, disowning Red Son and keeping him locked away in the lair. Red just breaks down at this, and begins refusing to eat or move. All that time that he’d spent, desperately trying to maintain some sort of good relationship with his parents, for nothing. The only people that he could count on turned against him, and that loneliness hits him like a freight train. 

The only thing that brings him comfort, oddly enough, are the soul marks on his left palm and wrist: he takes to rubbing them whenever he feels particularly bad. By now, his feelings toward Mk and Mei are much closer to something positive: they both seemed concerned about him after the race, and where that might’ve pissed him off a few months earlier, now it comforts him with the knowledge that at least someone out there gives a damn. 

We get to episode 8, when Mk gets the skeleton key. Instead of Red Son being the one to steal the key, Iron fan is the one to do it, and she reveals her master plan:

She and DBK plan on releasing the White Bone Spirit from it’s prison, in order for it to possess Red Son so that both will be fully under their control.

Iron Fan gets away with the key, the White Bone Spirit possesses Red Son, and DBK and Iron Fan use him to wreck the entire city.

Mei and Mk do their best to avoid fighting Red Son: it feels so wrong every time they do clash, because they both know it’s not Red Son, they know he’s not the one in control, but it still hurts that they couldn’t get him out in time, that one of their soulmates is suffering like this. 

The final straw comes a week after the initial possession.

Mk is forced to fight a possessed Red son to protect a badly injured Pigsy. Mk begs for Red to fight back, to break free, knowing that the continued possession is taking a toll on the demon’s body. Mei joins him, insisting that Red is stronger than this, that he needs to think about the people that care about him. 

That is enough to allow Red to break through, just for a moment.

He steps back, tears streaming from his eyes as he brokenly whispers that if even his own parents can’t be bothered to care about someone as weak, as broken as he is, then who the hell would? Mei and Mk hate him, his parents disowned him, and it’s not like he really interacts with anyone else.

He is immediately taken by surprise when the two teens blurt out that even though they might’ve started out on opposite sides, that they never fully hated him. Mk in particular says that they were actually worried about Red Son after the race, that they were planning on getting him out before Iron fan stole the skeleton key, that they were still planning on helping him escape, that they really, actually care.

Red Son finally breaks free, and Mk seals the White Bone spirit away again. Mei and Mk beat the absolute crap out of DBK and Iron Fan, who end up escaping  again.

They take Red to one of the few remaining hospitals, so he can recover from his possession, and they make sure to get him some serious therapy while they’re at it. 

Red Son wakes up two days later to see Mei and Mk sitting by his hospital bed on either side of him, and they give him a warm smile when they see that he’s awake.

He cries for a bit as he realizes that it’s over. He’s free now, even if he doesn’t have anywhere to go anymore, and there are two people in the world who keep that blue flame close to their chest instead of turning their backs.

For the first time in over a year, Red doesn’t hide the marks on his wrist and palms.

After all, why should he from the ones who care for him the most?

[yellowsuitcase]

Snowy Dances // Draco Malfoy

Request (from wattpad) - Could you write one where the reader is a half-blood Ravenclaw and is going going meet Draco's parents, then, Draco proposes to marry the reader and Lucius and Narcissa approved? Thanks, I love your stories!

A/N: Omg I did NOT expect this to be so long. I literally just started writing and couldn’t stop. I’m absolutely in love with this imagine, I think it’s one of my favorites that I’ve written. I really hope you enjoy it!

Summary: Draco takes Y/N to meet his parents for the first time and proposes to her. So much fluff.

Waring(s): Mentions of death

Word Count: 4.2k

Draco examined the little black box in his hand. Today was the day he was going to ask his girlfriend to marry him. He pocketed the ring box and called out to her, “Are you ready, love?” from their downstairs kitchen. He and Y/N had been dating since their fifth year at Hogwarts. They’d bought a little cottage in Godric’s Hollow. They'd been living there since 1999, a year after the Battle of Hogwarts had ended. It was now 2003, and Draco thought it was about time for Y/N to meet his parents. The half-blood Ravenclaw, however, thought otherwise.

“Not quite,” he heard her yell from her upstairs bathroom. Draco sighed and put down his cup of pumpkin juice, a beverage he’d always been fond of from his time at Hogwarts, and began walking up the stairs. When he reached the top, he cautiously walked to the bathroom door and knocked. “May I come in?” he asked. A few moments later, the door opened to reveal Y/N. She was wearing a velvet blue floor-length dress. Draco thought she looked stunning, but before he could tell her so, she spoke up.

“I just need a few more minutes; my hair isn’t cooperating,” she said softly. It seemed as though she was having a hard time pinning her hair to the back of her head. This was a hairstyle Draco had seen Y/N pull off many times, so he knew that she was biding her time by pretending to have trouble with it. He watched as she got more and more flustered as she reached behind her skull and weaved the pin through her locks. Draco gently took her hands in his and swiftly took the hairpin from her grasp and slipped it into his. Y/N let out a sigh and watched in the mirror as Draco lovingly took some pieces of her hair and tucked it underneath the pin, then clasped it with a snap. 

He met her eyes in the mirror. “You’ve been stalling,” he said. She averted her eyes, giving Draco more evidence that he was correct. “There’s nothing to be worried about; they’ll love you,” he assured her while stroking the back of her neck. He could feel the tension in her shoulders begin to fade as he did this.

“But what if they don’t? You’ve said a million times how much they value blood status, and my mother was a muggle. Surely they already have reservations about me,” Y/N said. She knew that when Draco had written to his parents, he’d told them she was a half-blood. 

“My parents may have their beliefs, but they also are aware that I am an adult who can make his own choices. And if I choose to be with a half-blood, then they’ll just have to accept it. And even if they don’t, it’s not going to change anything, alright?” Draco asked as he grasped Y/N’s shoulders and turned her around to face him. “I need you to understand that no matter what anyone says, whether it be my parents or a stranger on the street, nothing will change the fact that I love you,” he said. His eyes never left his lover’s. A blush crept up her neck and onto her cheeks. His words made her heart squeeze. 

“I love you too,” she said softly. Draco smiled and pressed a kiss to her temple. 

“Ready to go now?” he asked. Y/N inhaled deeply, willing the butterflies in her stomach to fly away. She nodded as a determined look emerged on her face. “That’s my girl,” Draco mused. “Now, shall we apparate to my childhood home?”

Y/N bit her lip and rocked back and forth on her heels. Draco raised an eyebrow, questioning what was going on in his woman’s head. She looked up at him, and he could see the look of mischief in her eyes. “Well, I was hoping we could take the bus,” Y/N said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“The bus? As in the muggle bus?” Draco asked. He was visibly puzzled as to why she’d want to ride the bus all the way to his family’s manor. It would take a good four hours to get there that way.

“No, silly. The Knight Bus. I haven’t ridden it since I was sixteen, and I thought it’d be fun,” she said sweetly. But the sparkle in her eyes began to fade when she saw Draco’s apprehensive expression. She lowered her head and mumbled, “We don’t have to, though; I’ve probably made us late already.” 

Draco’s hand found her chin and tilted it upwards. “I’m sure my parents will live even if we’re a few minutes late,” he said. Y/N’s face lit up at his words, and she grabbed his hand. Before he could process what was happening, he was being dragged down the steps and through their front door. He hardly got the chance to lock it since Y/N was yanking on his arm, eager to hail the bus. 

When they got to the sidewalk outside their home, Y/N immediately raised her wand hand to summon the bus. It came barreling down the street and then to a screeching halt in front of the couple. A thin man greeted them with a smile and said, “Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. My name is Stan Shunpike, and I will be your conductor this afternoon.”

Y/N flashed Draco a smile and ran up to the stairs of the bus. She ran inside the bus while Draco passed Stan a galleon and five sickles to pay for the both of them. Stan took them and pocketed the coins into his breast pocket. Draco didn’t miss the disgruntled look Stan had given him, but he didn’t care. The only thing his mind was focused on was Y/N, and the night ahead of them. 

When Draco entered the bus, he saw his lover settling into a cozy armchair at the back of the bus. The day was still young; thus, the beds were nowhere to be found. Draco took a seat in the blue chair next to Y/N’s green one. Once his bottom touched the cushion, the bus propelled forward at a ridiculous speed. Draco felt like he might puke. Meanwhile, Y/N looked like a first-year student in Honeydukes. 

“Where are you two headed to?” Stan asked.

Y/N noticed her boyfriend’s face turning green, so she spoke up. “Malfoy Manor,” she said. Stan raised an eyebrow, and suddenly, Y/N realized her mistake. Malfoy was a well-known surname, and not for good reasons. She felt the eyes of other passengers turn to her and her boyfriend. Her hand found Draco’s; she clenched it tightly and silently prayed that they wouldn’t be kicked off the bus. Draco saw the look on Y/N’s face and was filled with anger. He knew that because of him, she was now scared. His family name was powerful, yes, but in all the wrong ways. And now it was causing problems, something it seemed to do quite often nowadays. 

Draco lifted her hand to his lips, where he planted a tender kiss. He lowered her hand but began to stroke the top of it with his thumb, hoping to soothe his girlfriend’s anxiety. She gave him a sheepish smile. “Maybe we shouldn’t have taken the bus,” she said softly. Draco’s heart sunk. He felt so guilty. Today was supposed to be a good day, the best day. It was going to be the beginning of the rest of their lives, and he’d be damned if he let his past ruin it. 

“Hey, look at me,” he said. Y/N removed her eyes from the floor. “They don’t matter. We have every right to ride the bus as they do, alright? Don’t let them get in your pretty little head.” Y/N couldn’t fight the smile that was creeping onto her face. She nodded and reached forward to give her man a kiss. He welcomed it with open arms. 

Suddenly, the bus took a sharp turn. It made Draco’s chair slide to the left and bump into Y/N’s, causing her to giggle. “What’re you giggling about?” Draco asked bemusedly. Y/N continued to laugh before answering.

“It’s bumper chairs,” she stated plainly as if it was apparent. 

Draco raised an eyebrow. “Bumper chairs?”

“Well, in the muggle world, we have an activity called bumper cars. It’s a fun little game that they have at carnivals and fairs, and what it is is you sit in these little buggies and drive them around and try to crash them into other people. It can get really competitive, but it’s a breeding ground for laughter. My mother and I would always take a spin in them before leaving the fairgrounds,” Y/N mused, her voice growing sad at the thought of her late mother. 

“That does sound quite fun; we’ll have to try it one day,” he said. He really did wish to try this muggle activity. 

Y/N smiled at him. “She would’ve loved you, my mother. I wish she could’ve met you.”

Draco frowned at her words. He knew Y/N’s mother had been a significant person in her life. He was with her when she’d gotten the news of her passing. He remembered sitting in front of the fireplace that night. She had stayed curled up in his arms, sobbing the night away. By the look on Y/N’s face, she remembered the memory as well. 

“I wish I could’ve had the pleasure of meeting her as well. She must’ve been an extraordinary woman considering she made you,” he said comfortingly. Y/N let out a chuckle. “She was. But I’m sure your mother is equally as lovely, considering she made you.” 

Draco laughed, “I see what you did there, you sly dog. But yes, she’s lovely, and she’s going to adore you. I can feel it.”

Y/N grimaced. “You sure?”

“I’m certain. I’m beyond excited,” Draco assured her. Just then, the bus came to a halt, which launched the pair off their chairs and onto the floor. “Malfoy Manor!” Stan called. Y/N and Draco turned their heads to look at each other. They burst into laughter as they clambered to their feet. Ignoring the stares from fellow passengers, they hopped off the bus, but not before giving their thanks to the driver and Stan. 

Once they set foot on the road, the bus zoomed away in a flash, leaving the couple alone in the street. Y/N’s anxiety had already returned; Draco could sense it. “Just breathe, darling. They’ll like you.”

They began walking down the long concrete pathway to the front door. “But what if they don’t?” Y/N asked, her eyebrows furrowed with uneasiness. “You’re the wittiest woman I know, not to mention your creativity and fast thinking. You’ll know exactly what to say to charm the hell out of them. Believe in yourself like I believe in you,” Draco said encouragingly. 

Y/N let out a big breath and nodded. Draco grasped her hand and led her up to the tall black doors. “Whenever you’re ready, love,” he said while reaching his other hand into his pocket to make sure the ring was still there. It was. Y/N held her breath and raised her fist to the firm wood. She rested her knuckles on it for just a moment and then knocked twice. “Oh god,” she mumbled. Draco squeezed her hand. Then the door opened. Lucius Malfoy had his hand on the doorknob, his wife, Narcissa, stood behind him. She was clothed in a luxurious black dress, silver decals lined the collar. Lucius wore a long-sleeved leather suit paired with a long black robe. They looked like the definition of intimidating.

“Draco. Welcome home,” Lucius said as he opened the door wider and motioned for the two of them to come inside. Draco squeezed Y/N’s hand again and led them through the doorway. “This must be Y/N, of whom you’ve told us so much about,” Narcissa said calmly. Draco looked at Y/N, urging her to speak. Fear swirled in Y/N’s stomach, but she pushed past it and said, “Yes, that’s me. It’s so good to meet you at last. You’ve raised a wonderful son.”

Narcissa smiled softly and glanced at her husband, who had a smug look on his face. “Well, I should hope so. He was quite a handful as a boy. Frankly, he still is a handful,” Lucius said. Narcissa lightly patted her husband's arm as if to scold him, but it was apparent she had little to no say over his actions. “I couldn’t have been that bad. Right, mother?” Draco asked. Narcissa smiled at him and reached up to caress his cheek. 

“You were quite the young boy, but you’ve grown into such a handsome young man. It’s been too long since we’ve last seen you. Why did you never visit sooner?” she asked her son. Draco inhaled sharply and looked at Y/N briefly. He went to reply but was interrupted by his mother saying, “Let’s have a seat, and you can tell us all about what you’ve been up to these past years.” The couple nodded and followed the Malfoys to their grand dining room. Y/N felt the air turn cold as they entered. Luckily, Draco’s parents led them through that room and into a living room. Black leather couches surrounded a massive white marble fireplace. Narcissa and Lucius took a seat, as did Draco and Y/N. Once they’d all gotten comfortable, Draco began to speak. 

“Well, these last four years in Godric’s Hollow have been really nice. We’ve spent a lot of time traveling. I think I sent you both an owl with a photo of us in America. We visited amusement parks, skyscrapers, and we even stayed in a little beach house.”

Y/N cut in to comment on their travels. “We also visited Asia. Japan was incredible; we got to ride flying carpets! It was so different from brooms; you felt as if you would fall off at any moment,” she laughed. Draco snickered along with her. “I almost did fall off,” he stated. Y/N’s laughter grew, “Oh my gosh, you did. I’d forgotten all about that.” The couple kept laughing and failed to notice the fond expressions on Lucius and Narcissa’s faces. 

“Sounds like you’ve had quite an eventful time together,” Narcissa mused. Y/N turned away from Draco to look at his mother. “Oh, yes, we’ve had the most wonderful trips. I’m glad I’ve had him by my side all these years,” she said fondly. Draco smiled at her and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “And I, you,” he said. They were caught off guard by Lucius’s question.

“So you’re in love then? With a half-blood?”

Y/N’s heart sank. This was what she was afraid of. She wouldn’t be able to look at Draco the same if his parents disapproved of her, and Lucius’s brutally unfiltered question made her panic. Draco puffed up his chest and looked into his father’s eyes. “Yes, father, I am. I love Y/N so much, in fact…” he trailed off as he got to his feet and reached into his pocket. Y/N looked up at him in confusion and apprehension. And then he lowered his knee and held up a little black box. Slowly, he opened it to reveal a ring. Y/N felt tears spring to her eyes. 

Draco’s heart was pounding against his ribcage, sending pulses of anxiety through his entire body. He’d been planning this proposal for months, even though he knew he wanted to marry Y/N since the first time he saw her. He still remembered that moment. It was during their fifth year at Hogwarts. Draco had just left potions class and was walking past the courtyard when he saw a Ravenclaw tie on the ground. He didn’t bother picking it up but still lifted his head to look around for who might’ve lost it. And then he saw her. She was standing in the middle of the courtyard, arms outstretched and mouth open wide for snowflakes to fall into. It was as if time had stopped ticking when he laid his eyes on her. She was so effortlessly beautiful. Ethereal, almost. Her laughs echoed through the courtyard as she twirled and twirled. 

Draco knew he had to talk to her, so he reached down to pick up the tie. When he had it in his grasp, he began walking towards the girl. He called out to her, “Did you drop this?” 

She turned towards him. Her eyes flickered to her tie in his hand. “Yes,” she replied plainly. Draco was at a loss for words. He’d been expecting a bit more words than just one. 

“Uhm, would you like it back?” he asked. 

She shook her head. “That’s alright. I knew it was there.” 

Again, Draco didn’t know what to say. Why wouldn’t she want her tie back? “So you don’t want it?” he asked once more. 

“No, thank you. You can leave it where you found it,” she said softly. “Would you like to spin with me?” she asked. Her big doe eyes gazed at the blonde boy who was positively puzzled by the girl in front of him. 

“Spin with you?” Draco asked. The girl nodded and smiled. “Yes, spin with me. I promise it’s fun,” she said. The young Slytherin was perplexed. Who was this girl?

“Aren’t you supposed to be in class?” Draco asked. She smiled.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in class, Malfoy?” she retorted.

Draco’s heart leaped. “You know who I am?”

“Of course I do. Everyone in our year knows who you are,” she replied as if this was common knowledge. It caught Draco off guard. She rolled her eyes. “Well?” she asked.

“What?” Draco replied. The Ravenclaw sighed. “Are you going to spin with me or not?”

Draco studied her for a few moments. She was looking at him with a slightly annoyed expression. Her hip was cocked to one side, and snowflakes were embedded in her hair. The strands were growing damp. Some had even begun to stick to her forehead. Her eyes seemed to sparkle, and her lips were bright red from the crisp air. She was almost otherworldly. Something about her was… different. Draco liked it.

“I’ll spin with you…” he trailed off. “Y/N Y/L/N,” the girl replied. Draco nodded and watched as she lifted her arms to the sky and began to twirl. The blonde boy hesitantly joined her. He was unsure at first, but after a few circles, he was already feeling lighter. When he began to feel dizzy, he stopped spinning and shifted his eyes to Y/N. Her eyes were closed; she looked peaceful. Draco was absolutely mesmerized.

She looked as ethereal and beautiful as she did on that snowy day in the courtyard, even with tears in her eyes. “Y/N Y/L/N, I’ve never been so enamored by anyone in my life as much as I am enamored of you. You are the most intelligent, pure, generous person I have ever met. I admire you more than I care to admit. I’m so glad that I saw your tie in that corridor. I don’t know where I would be right now if I hadn’t picked it up. You make me feel whole, Y/N. You’ve been the center of my life for eight years and... I’d like to ensure that you stay in the center for the rest of my years. The rest of our years. With that being said, will you marry me?”

Tears were streaming down Y/N’s cheeks. She could see the overflowing amount of love in Draco’s eyes when he looked at her. He looked at her as if she was the only person left on earth. Slowly, she glanced up at Draco’s parents. Narcissa was crying as well. She smiled at Y/N. Lucius was stoic, but there was tenderness in his eyes. When he made eye contact with Y/N, he nodded. She looked back at Draco and smiled. “Yes.”

Draco let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. He took the ring from the box with shaky hands and held it between his thumb and index finger. He grasped his now fiancé’s left hand and gently slipped the ring onto her finger. It fit perfectly. Draco sprung to his feet, took Y/N’s face in his hands, and without hesitation, pressed his lips to hers. Their salty tears mixed with each other as they silently celebrated. When they pulled away, Draco turned to his parents. His mother welcomed him with open arms, and he rushed into them. Y/N watched fondly. And then Narcissa opened her arms once more for her. Tentatively, she walked forward and allowed herself to be embraced by her future mother in law. When Narcissa’s arms wrapped around her back, she felt a sense of peace overtake her. It felt good to have a mother’s hug again. 

Lucius stared at Draco intently. Draco stared back just as firmly. Y/N was afraid of what might happen next. What if he was angry? What if she had only imagined that nod he’d given her. Her fears dissipated when Lucius laid a hand on Draco’s shoulder. “Well done, Draco,” he said quietly. 

Draco’s chest swelled with pride. His father’s opinion and approval was something he’d been chasing for more than half of his life. So to finally hear those words fall from his lips was an exhilarating and freeing feeling. Both couples smiled and retook their former spots on the couches. Everyone felt lighter; the afternoon’s previous tension was now gone.

--------

Later on in the evening, Draco and Y/N were getting settled in Draco’s old bedroom. Narcissa had convinced them to stay the night so they could begin wedding preparations at once the next morning. They’d been shocked by her eagerness at first but shrugged it off when they remembered that her only son had just gotten engaged. Of course, she was excited. 

“I can’t believe this is the first time I’m seeing your room,” Y/N said as she wandered around his room. She stopped at a mahogany desk facing a window. “Is this where you wrote me all those love letters?” she asked teasingly. Draco rolled his eyes. He walked over to her and wrapped his arms around her, giving her a back hug. They stared out the window at the starry sky, and Draco pressed a kiss to Y/N’s nape. Then he pulled away. “Come, I want to show you something.”

Y/N looked at him skeptically but followed him out of his room and down the stairs anyway. He led her through twists and turns. They passed the kitchen, Lucius’s study, and a dark green living room before arriving at two tall doors. Draco smiled at her before placing both hands on the handles. Wordlessly, he turned them and pushed the doors open to reveal a magnificent marble ballroom. A gasp fell from Y/N’s lips. 

“Oh, Draco, this is beautiful.”

Draco smiled and sneakily plucked his wand from his pocket and cast a charm on the piano in the left corner. It began to play soft classical music. He stuck his wand back in his pocket and turned to his fiancé. “Care to dance?” he asked while holding out his hand to her. She smiled lovingly at Draco. Her hand grasped his, but before they could dance, she reached down to grab her shoe. She removed one black heel and then the other. Draco wasn’t surprised; she’d never been one for fancy shoes. 

“My mother would have a heart attack if she knew someone had put their bare feet on this floor. In fact, I think you might be the first to do so,” he said. Y/N shrugged. “It’ll be our secret,” she said. Draco smirked and pulled her out to the middle of the ballroom. His hand found her hip, and hers found his. And on a count of three, they began to waltz. The music grew quiet as the presence of one another took center stage. Their eyes never left the others. The two of them were so entranced by one another. So in love, they were. 

They danced, and they danced. The music seemed to guide their steps as they moved forward and backward. For each twirl, Draco held his lover’s hand tightly, never wanting to let go. She looked breathtaking. Her eyes sparkled with the reflection of the grand chandeliers hanging overhead. Her skin glowed with joy as she twirled, and twirled, and twirled. 

Suddenly, something in the window caught Draco’s eye. It was snowing. He felt his heart jump, and he quickly grabbed Y/N’s waist. She looked at him, confused as to why he’d unexpectedly grabbed her. But she didn’t have a moment to ask him any questions because he bent his legs and lifted her up onto his shoulder. “Draco!” she squealed. He paid her no mind as he began to run towards the balcony. When he reached the glass doors, he pushed them open and walked himself and Y/N out onto the stone terrace. He set her down and watched as her confusion was replaced with awe. Snowflakes had already begun to embed themselves in her hair. She gazed up at Draco and smiled.

“Would you like to spin with me?” she asked.

Draco grinned and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, eliciting a giggle to escape her. “Yes, I would.”

The couple lifted their arms to the sky and began to spin.

[animeyanderelover]

Hello! your blog is amazing! for a request, it could be the prompt. 27("We were made for each other, can’t you see that?!”)with yandere Tobirama Senju with a reader who run away pregnant and them, he find them years later. Maybe that child is really happy to have a dad? Thanks!

Good that I already wrote some Hc’s for a family. This prompt doesn’t really sound like him, but who doesn’t like a little challenge?

Warnings:Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessiveness, manipulation, using the child against the darling

Prompt 27: “We were made for each other, can’t you see that?!”

“Keep moving or else they’ll catch us!” Could you trust them? Or was this a test Tobirama had made in order to test how loyal you were to him? This didn’t seem like him to be honest, but you could never know with this guy. “Why are you helping me?”, you asked the two masked men, both part of the Anbu and both assigned to watch over you today. It was nothing new for you. Tobirama had as the second Hokage a lot of work to do and couldn’t watch over you all the time and that’s where the Anbu always came into the picture. He always assigned at least one of them to watch over you and of course they always reported to him by the end of the day what you had done. Normally you never saw the Anbu watching you, but today these guys had just knocked on the front door and had told you to come with them, saying that they wanted to help you escaping. You had let them take you and currently you were on the back of one of them, but that didn’t mean you trusted them. “Why are you helping me? I thought the Anbu is working under the Hokage himself. And don’t you know that all of us will get in serious trouble if someone catches us?” Both didn’t say anything, answering you like this that they knew that they went against orders, meaning that they disobeyed the Hokage. “We know that we’re making traitors out of ourselves like this, but we watched you closely for a long time. Tell us honestly, are you happy with Lord Hokage? If you answer sincerely with a yes we will bring you back immediately. But if I even hear the slightest uncertainty in your voice we won’t stop until we’ve brought you far away from here.” You were stunned at this. It seemed like not all of the Anbu were that bad like you had originally thought they were. You chose to stay quiet, giving him the answer that he wanted to know. “You’ll get punished for this if you choose to return to the Leaf Village after you’ve brought me away. You’ll be treated as traitors and might even be tortured to get you to tell them where you’ve brought me. I’m asking this for your sake, not mine. Are you sure about this?”

“Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!” You sighed and turned around in your bed, trying to ignore the weight that kept bouncing onto you and the calls for you. “Mommy! Wake up! Today is your free day and I want us to spend as much time together as possible since you’re normally always so busy!” You opened one of your eyes to look at your little daughter, her silver hair all messy and a defiant look on her face. “Niko. The sun has barely rised. Go back to bed and sleep for a little longer.”, you mumbled tiredly. “But I never get to spend much time with you! You’re always so busy with work and I’m always stuck with a babysitter! And when you come home late at evening you’re always too tired to do anything! That’s not fair!” She had a pouty expression on her face, staring angrily at you before realizing that you were already half asleep. She grumbled something about how unfair this was before crawling under the blanket to join you. You welcomed her into your warm embrace. You felt terrible for her. Niko was barely six years old, an age were parents were supposed to spend as much time with their children as possible. But you couldn’t do that as much as you wanted too. Being a single mother was a hard job and you needed to work your ass off to earn enough money to cover all the needs and the babysitter.

“Mommy?”, your daughter suddenly mumbled. You hummed quietly. “Why isn’t daddy with us? I’m sure that he could help you so that you don’t have to overwork yourself.” You had expected her to say that. She often asked you about her father and when exactly she would be able to see him in person. Even though she loved you very much you knew how much she yearned for having a father as well. She always complained about how cool the dads of her friends were and that she wished she could have a cool dad as well. You had decided to tell her nothing about her father, at least for now. You planned on telling her when she was older. You didn’t want to give her such a big burden when she was only six years old. It was also possible that she wouldn’t understand the whole significance of this since she was still pretty young. But you couldn’t lie to her as well so you had never really talked about her father, no matter how much Niko wanted you to talk about him. So you didn’t respond to her question, just hugging her tightly. It had been over six years since you had escaped him, but you lived everyday in fear that he would some day suddenly appear again, taking you and your daughter back to this prison he called your home. But you hoped that this would never happen.

“Miss, I’m so incredibly sorry! I just looked away for one second and when I turned around again she was not there anymore!” Your face had pales and your grip on the cup of tea you were holding tightened, causing your knuckles to turn white. At this point you could break the cup at any moment, but that was at the moment your last worry. Niko had gone missing!! When you had returned home as usual the babysitter had already waited for you, looking incredibly guilty and giving you a bad feeling. Another fact that had highly unsettled you was that Niko hadn’t stormed towards you like she usually did. When you had asked the woman what had happened she had admitted that whilst she had been on the playground near the forest with your daughter she had gotten distracted for a short moment and when she had turned around to look for your daughter Niko hadn’t been there anymore. You heard how she was continuing to apologize nonstop to you, but you couldn’t really hear her, your thoughts racing in your mind. It was already so dark and to think about what could possibly happen to her...you didn’t even want to start thinking about it. Part of you wanted to leash out at the babysitter, but you knew that it wasn’t only her fault. It was yours too. If you would have been with her you wouldn’t have let her out of your sight. But you had been working, knowing nothing about this. Your child...alone in the forest at night and you weren’t able to do anything. The worst nightmare for every parent.

A sudden knock was heard and since it didn’t look like you were able to move the babysitter quickly hurried to the door. “Niko!!” Her calling your daughter’s name made you snap your head around faster than ever before. You quickly stood up and sprinted towards the entrance, but before you could reach it you suddenly saw your daughter running towards you. “Mommy!!”, she cried out and jumped in your arms and you nearly suffocated her with your tight grip. “Niko. Thanks goodness that you’re save. How could you just run away like this?! Do you know how worried I was.”, you sobbed loudly. “I’m sorry mommy! I’ll never do it again! It was so scary to be completely alone! But the miss there found me and helped me to get home!” You looked up, wanting to fall whoever around the neck who had brought your daughter back, but you froze when you looked at the woman who was standing in your door sill. She was holding her mask in one of her hands and was wearing the casual clothing that all of the Anbu wore. Her eyes were directly at you, drilling holes in your skull. Niko realized how you had started to shake and how you stared with an absolute terrified look on your face at the woman. “Mommy, is something wrong?”, she asked you worried. You couldn’t tell her about this! You swallowed hardly and answered:”It’s nothing sweetheart. Why don’t you go upstairs?” You turned to the babysitter. “Please make sure that she stays in bed. I think I need to have a private talk with this woman here.”

“I need to admit, you have my respect for being able to escape for so long. The Hokage has given us a really hard time these last few years.” You didn’t say anything, just listening to her. Nothing that you would say to her would help you anyways. “The girl there, Niko, she’s his, isn’t she?” You managed to nod weakly. “I expected that. She looks really similar to him. Try to imagine my shock when I found her walking alone in the forest. She must be around six years old, isn’t she?” Again you nodded, keeping your gaze fixed on the floor. You had expected that they would find you at some point, but you had really wished it would happen later. “You know that I have to inform the Hokage about this.”, she told you firmly and you forced yourself to look up. She had a neutral, but firm expression on her face, being professional with her work. “How long?”, you mumbled out. “How long what?” “How long until we need to leave this village?” “I would suggest that you start packing. I’ve seen the eagerness of our Hokage to find you again. So I guess it’s very likely that you’ll have to leave tomorrow.”

“I can’t believe that I’ll finally meet my daddy! I’ve waited so long for this moment! Why did you never tell me that my dad was so well-known? I could have bragged about how cool my dad really is! I mean, not many children can say that their father is the Kage of the land? I bet that my daddy must be the coolest person in the whole land of fire!” You heard one of the Anbu chuckling. “She surely is a cute one.” “You must be very exciting to meet your dad for the first time.” Niko beamed excitedly at the man:”You can bet I am! Aren’t you excited too mommy?” You hadn’t spoken a word since they had started to escort you back to the Leaf Village. It had been just like the woman had suspected. The very next day after she had informed the others about you and Niko you had been forced to go with them. Niko had been at first confused why so many masked people had been suddenly insisted on bringing you two to the Konohagakure, but when one of them had told her that her father was waiting for them in there she had instantly gotten all excited. You couldn’t blame her, she was only a small child after all who’s greatest wish it was to see her father. How could she possibly understand what Tobirama really was for a human? She had been growing up with everyone around her telling her that the Hokage was a great man, protecting the country from any possible danger. Getting to know that her father was the Hokage made him already to the biggest hero in her life. But that wasn’t the only thing you were worried about. You were scared that Tobirama would use Niko to keep you in line. Because you knew no matter how much you hated him you would never leave your daughter, no matter what may happen.

“We’ve arrived. Now it’s all up to you three.” You were slightly surprised that you hadn’t gone to the Hokage’s building, but instead to his house. But you could imagine that Tobirama wanted to keep this private. “Thank you for your help!”, your daughter told them excitedly. You gave them a small halfhearted nod before knocking with shacking hands on the door, waiting impatiently. The moment the door was opened was the moment Niko stormed inside, jumping onto the waist of the man she had always dreamed to meet in her life. “Daddy!!” Tobirama had a flustered expression on his face when his daughter hugged him so suddenly. He cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure and locked his burning gaze with yours. You looked down, not daring to endure this any longer. He was mad, you could tell that. Wordlessly he gestured you to come in, walking right back into his prison where he planned on keeping you forever.

“I can’t believe that I finally met you! I have so many questions! Why did I never know who you really were? Why did you never come visit us? And why did you bring us back now?” Niko hadn’t stopped rambling questions to him and you were surprised that Tobirama hadn’t lost his patience already a long time ago. Instead he had an amused glint in his eyes when looking at his daughter. Well, at least it didn’t look like he didn’t like her. You knew that Tobirama never really wanted children since he was always busy with his work and with keeping you on a short leash so it was a relief to see that he seemed to like Niko. “Hey! I’m still waiting for an explanation!”, your daughter told him. Tobirama chuckled, clearly amused by her behavior. He lifted her up to place her in his lap. “I’m sorry for never telling you who I really was. Truth is that your mother disappeared a few years ago suddenly. She was taken from some of my people who brought her away from me, probably to threaten me.” “But why did mommy never try to come back in here? Or didn’t try to contact you?” Tobirama glanced shortly at you and you knew that he challenged you right now whether to tell your daughter the truth which would make her most likely mad at you or some sort of lie which would make it sound like you were being forced. You slowly shook your head, pleading him to not tell her the truth. You didn’t want your daughter to hate you.

“I guess she was being threatened. I know your mother loves me. She would never leave me like this.” He glanced quickly at you. “Am I right?” Damn him! “Y-yes.”, you stuttered out. “You love me, right?” “Yes. I love you.” You couldn’t help, but feel disgusted when you saw his disgusting grin. Your daughter couldn’t see it since she was facing you. Her eyes were sparkling, clearly happy to see both of her parents finally together. “You both are so cute! You were truly made for each other!”, she yelled happily, not realizing how wrong she was. She had wanted a happy family for years and had always wished to have parents that loved each other very much. It was a regular dream that everyone had. It was probably due to this that she didn’t realize how you kept getting smaller and smaller under Tobirama’s gaze. “Did you hear our daughter?” You nodded. “We were made for each other, can’t you see that?!” All you really wanted was to sink in a hole. One short glance at your daughter told you that you would never be able to escape him again. Not as long as your daughter wanted to stay with him. If it meant that your daughter was happy, you would pay a heavy price. Sacrificing your own life and happiness for hers.

[karasimpno]

Karasimpno Does FluffVember Day 1 - Akaashi

Karasimpno FluffVember Masterlist Sick Day (gn reader) 2.6k words | Warnings: a liiiitle spicy, sick reader, painkillers, so much fluff I can’t. This is so self-indulgent I’m so sorry

The first thing you became aware of was the sunlight streaming through the curtains in your bedroom. You inhaled deeply, sensation crawling into your fingers and toes as you turned your head on the pillow, breathing in the morning. You exhaled with a smile as your eyes landed on the beautiful man propped up against the headboard, brow furrowed over his sleek reading glasses as he typed sporadically at the computer on his lap. Too focused on his work, he hadn’t registered your movement as more than restless sleep, unaware that your eyes were raking over his relaxed form.

You took advantage of the opportunity just to watch him work. This was what you had always dreamed of - waking up on bright Sunday mornings to roll over and find your childhood-best-friend-turned-boyfriend in bed beside you. You unconsciously bit your lip, wondering how you got so lucky. This was bliss, you thought.

“Hey sexy,” your not-so-sexy morning voice croaked out - deeper than usual. Akaashi’s eyebrows shifted upwards in slight surprise as he inhaled, taking in your eyes on his. The corners of his lips barely tipped upwards and you recognized the beautiful smile for what it was, returning it in full force with one of your own. His hand, slender and angular, slipped off the keyboard and found its way into yours under the blanket. Just watching the ocean of his eyes was all the joy you ever needed. You leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to the back of his hand.

“Good morning,” he breathed, that barely-there smile still on his lips. You fluttered your tired eyes to clear the sleep from them and wormed your head onto his lap so you could see what he was working on. Wordlessly skimming your eyes over the document, the time in the corner of the screen caught your eye - 11:37. You sat bolt upright, which you instantly regretted as a splitting pain shot through your head, causing you to hunch over, fingertips pressing to your forehead.

Light fingers found your back. “Hey...” Akaashi started, the unvoiced question clear. 

“Yeah, no, just...headache,” you explained disjointedly. “I didn’t realize how late it was.”

“Yeah it was later than you usually sleep but you hardly ever get to rest so I didn’t want to wake you,” Akaashi said in an even tone - though the deep care in his words wasn’t lost on you. He pulled a few fingers through your hair. “Maybe too much wine last night?” he teased, the slightest hint of a glimmer in his eye. You groaned. “Maybe,” you admitted. You laid back down on the pillows.

“Can we just watch Netflix today?” you asked, a little pitifully. That familiar twitch of the corner of his lips. “Sure,” he said, leaning over to press a kiss to your forehead. “Do you want me to make breakfast or anything?” Akaashi asked. You frowned, the thought of food, for once, not very appetizing.

“Nah, I’m not really that hungry,” you answered, fumbling in the drawer of your bedside table for some painkillers. “Where did I...” you muttered, then felt a touch on your arm. You looked over. Akaashi had the pills you sought cupped in his fingers as he held them out to you. You shot him a playfully annoyed smirk. You were always looking for things that he happened to produce in the blink of an eye. “Stop being so perfect,” you teased, grabbing the water bottle from your night stand as you took the pills from him.

“I can’t help it, I love you too much,” he said, giving your thigh a gentle squeeze. You couldn’t help your smile either and pecked him quickly on the lips after swallowing the pills. “I love you too, Keiji.” His deep eyes were dark with warmth. You grabbed the remote and flicked on Netflix, sinking further into the pillows as Keiji’s light keystrokes filled the silence before you picked something to watch.

It was a perfect Sunday afternoon, not even leaving the bed yet as show after show began and ended, your quiet lover’s presence all you needed. Before you knew it, it was a little after 2pm and you were stretching your limbs after having been in the same position for so long. Your left toes accidentally brushed against Akaashi’s calf and you didn’t miss the flick of teal that darted to your face. Your eyebrows raised a bit, meeting the glance. His right hand came up and affectionately moved through your hair a few times, making your scalp tingle. You felt yourself melting a little under his touch, your eyelids fighting a flutter as you bit gingerly on your lower lip. 

Without looking, Keiji used his other hand to shift his laptop to his bedside table, moving forward to plant a tender kiss to your expectant lips. You would never get tired of those lips, soft and gentle between yours. You sighed into him, raising your hand to cup his cheek and letting it rest there as he deepened the kiss, his nose lovingly nudging against yours. For lack of a better expression, your eyes felt like they were floating in your skull. There was an enticing rustle of sheets as Akaashi shifted his weight until he was over you, beginning to suck at your lower lip. You inhaled deeply through your nose and your breath caught at the back of your throat, tickling a bit. You cleared your throat but otherwise ignored the feeling and focused your attentions on the deft tongue beginning to lightly taste you, making your brain a little fuzzy.  You reveled in the deliciously soft sounds of your lips dancing with each other, sighing again in contentment. 

Abruptly, you’re forced to flex the hand resting on Akaashi’s cheek to push him off your lips and past your shoulder as an involuntary cough escapes your throat. You barely heard his exhale of surprise at parting with you but he hovers and waits carefully as you cough once, twice, wait a moment, then cough again. You clear you throat and shake your head a little, blinking. “Sorry,” you whisper, the sound getting caught in your chest. It’s okay he assures you with the way his lips find yours. 

He is gentle again, and you wrap your other hand around the back of his neck, encouraging him to keep touching you. Answering your unspoken desires, you find his careful tongue caressing the insides of your mouth. You tilt your head, needing more, more of him. The hand on his cheek makes its way slowly down his toned chest, finding the hem of his pajama shirt and landing on his hip, just beneath the shirt. You are grateful for every brush of skin you share with him, relishing the beautiful, smooth skin of the muscles taut at his waist where he presses against your pelvis. He pulls an inch away from you, looking down into your eyes, his dark teal orbs your entire world.

“Akaashi...” you whisper, and in a fluid motion he pulls his shirt over his head, kissing with more fervor - your lips, under your chin, at your collarbone, then taking his time to plant a loving kiss at the center of your clothed chest. He crawls back, his lips tracing lower down your torso. Your diaphragm contracts as he does so and you successfully stifle another cough. He pushes your shirt up ever so slowly, eyes not leaving your face. The care in his eyes - the way he wants to watch you as he cherishes you - is enough to leave you breathless, and it nearly does as you tangle your fingers in his gorgeous locks. You lick your lips as he uses his nose to trace sweet swirls up your exposed stomach until his tongue grazes past your bare nipple, almost light enough to seem accidental - though you knew better than that. Your head falls to the side and you allow yourself an audible sigh of pleasure as his soft lips close around one of the buds. Your chest rises and falls a little faster at his attentions, feeling your sensitive peak growing wetter at a swipe of his tongue. You know it’s coming and yet a sudden flash of his teeth across the tender flesh elicits a sharp inhale of pleasure from you. 

The quick work of your diaphragm from your gasp sends your esophagus spluttering and seizing and you hack out a few chesty coughs. Akaashi swiftly shifts away from your chest, giving you room to breathe and stroking your hand to let you know he was still there - as if you’d ever forget.

You smile weakly at him and apologize. You find comfort in his lips again, but this time only from their half-smile as he lovingly looks down at you. He pushes forward and pulls your shirt back down over your chest.

“Ah, babe - ” you begin to protest, down but not out for this round. He’s moving in to plant a kiss to your forehead. “It’s okay, love,” he breathes, a whisper above your skin, your pulse still racing. His lips are so gentle against your forehead and you close your eyes at the feeling in spite of yourself. You hear him inhale and feel him pull back. When you open your eyes, he’s sitting back on his heels, looking at you.

“You’re burning up,” he states simply. You half-laugh and begin sitting up, handing his shirt back to him.

“Well I’m sure I have you to thank for that,” you say with a wink.

“No, sweetheart, I mean I think you’re running a fever. I’ll be back,” and before you can even say anything, he’s off the bed and rummaging through a drawer in the bathroom. You exhale dramatically and pull yourself up to rest against the headboard before he comes back. You pout a little like a sick kid when his featherlight fingertips hold your chin to press a thermometer under your tongue.

“No talking for a minute,” he orders, a playful smirk playing at his features. You miss his touch as he throws his shirt back on and reaches across you to grab your water bottle.

“Km-mhi!” you protest, keeping your mouth clamped around the thermometer, but he’s already gone and filling the bottle with fresh water from the kitchen. When he comes back, he takes the thermometer from your mouth and checks the gauge. You realize begrudgingly that you are in fact a bit cold and pull the covers closer around you. You rest your head on his shoulder, peering over at the thermometer. He instinctually rubs your back. 100.4, the thermometer reads. Akaashi sweeps a hand through your hair and down the side of your face. “I’m gonna take care of you, okay?” Pulling away from him, you smile lightly, knowing there’s no arguing with Nurse Keiji. You love him so damn much but you do feel a little puny. 

“You need to eat,” is all he says. He looks a little reluctant to leave you, but squeezes your hand and presses a kiss to your hairline before pushing off the bed and walking back to the kitchen. 

Sighing, you sink back down into the pillows and hit play on the TV again. Your head doesn’t hurt so much anymore but you can feel your pulse in your skull. You gratefully drink some of the water Akaashi brought you and let your eyes rest a bit. The noise of the TV and the distant sound of chopping begins to get far-away, as though you’re sinking beneath water. At some point, without opening your eyes, you feel a warm cloth pressed to your forehead and behind your ears a few times. You smile lightly, still letting your body rest. Akaashi is being overly helpful but you have to admit it’s nice to know someone’s taking care of you.

Eventually, the smell of your favorite soup wafts into the room. You take a deep inhale, which results in a small cough leaving your chest. Clearing your throat, you groggily gather the covers around you and pull them off the bed as you wander into the kitchen.

“Hey,” you say with a smile, feeling like a walking burrito. Akaashi’s eyes are on your face, and you can practically see him fighting the urge to hold you.

“Go back to bed,” he says softly. “Drink some water and lie down.” You pout a little. “Do you need more water?” he asks. You reach out from the draped covers and squeeze his hand. “No, baby. Thank you for doing this for me.” You’re not sure whether it’s the pressure in your head or how your body just seems to stay tired today, but you suddenly feel a wave of strong emotion wash over you as you think about how grateful you are for this man in your life. You blink at wetness in your eyes and, Akaashi, always keyed in to your heart, has his arms around you in an instant, gently rocking you. 

“You’re okay, I love you,” he whispers. A few moments in his arms and you’re slightly surprised as you feel one of his hands lower and grab you behind the knees, sweeping you off your feet and pulling you into his chest. You always forget how well his strength is hidden in his lithe figure, but you give in and let yourself be completely supported by him as he carries you back to your bedroom where he carefully re-settles you onto the bed, kissing your forehead before he stands back up.

“Drink some water, okay? Soup’s almost ready,” his voice is firm, but you know he’s only worried about you. He returns to the kitchen. Your breath catches in your chest a bit and you cough it out for a minute, reaching for your water bottle again.

Soon enough, Akaashi’s standing in the doorway and your heart nearly melts all over again. He’s holding a tray which he brings to your lap, holding your favorite soup, napkins, and a spoon. You sigh with gratitude and you share a look with him, no words necessary. You can still feel your pulse thrumming through your body, but with the first few sips of the soup, the warm liquid settles your chest a bit. Akaashi has crawled into bed beside you and turned the tv back on. 

“Should I sleep on the couch or something tonight?” you ask weakly, looking at him and playing up the pathetic-ness a bit. His eyebrows draw together in confusion.

“What? Of course not, why?”

“I’ll get you sick if-” He shushes you almost immediately.

“No, no, no, don’t worry about that. Besides if you were going to, you probably did already,” he teased with one of his signature small smiles. When the soup was finished and the tray taken from you, he pulled you in close to him and spent the rest of the day by your side, hands running through your hair, or grabbing you anything you needed.

He did, in fact, come down with the exact same cold days later as you were getting over your own. While you hated seeing him all groggy and miserable, you did enjoy the tables flipping and chance to take care of him for once.