#this week is for being numb enough to reminisce

[joocomics]

different kind of normal

pairing: idol!taehyun x fem!reader

genre: smut, angst ( 18+ ) ── 1.7k words

✎… situationship, (unprotected) reunion sex, sub!reader, hint of dumbification, dacryphilia kink, pet names, reader is emotional and cries during sex, not a happy ending (?)

a.note ! this has been sitting in the drafts since august and it’s finally seeing the light of day. cannot believe such angsty smut is happening on joocomics, tbh i don’t think i’ll be writing anything similar anytime soon phew it was tricky and i realised that i need my happy endings. but i wanted to try smth new, i really hope you enjoy it </3 sometimes you just need a kim taehyun to numb your emotions

( txt masterlist )

You go down the familiar stairs and walk into the bar. It’s loud, lit by the usual dim yellow-ish lights, the scent of alcohol and skin is covering every corner, wrapping around your silhouette.

Your eyes observe the place to search for him and it doesn’t take long to find him - he’s sitting on your usual spot which is distanced from every other table; it feels intimate and secluded.

None of the people who visit this bar know who he is, nor do they know you, and sitting on this specific table every time you see each other only enhances the feeling you get in these moments - like you and him are the only people existing in this place and time.

“Taehyun,” you greet him at once.

You haven’t said his name out loud in so long. You’re not allowed to talk about him to anyone; not that you want to anyway, you want to keep him to yourself though it feels nice to be able to roll it off your tongue again. It feels freeing, especially in his presence.

Maybe he missed hearing his name in your voice, because his eyes smile at the sound before he even turns to face you. The letters ring nicely, like his name is something he can feel caressing his skin when you’re the one saying it.

“You’re here.” He automatically leans forward after you sit down next to him; the usual gravitational force that always pulls you together is another thing he was anticipating to experience again.

His one arm goes over your shoulders and the sudden warmth enveloping you makes your knees weak. The truth is, they were already weak from the steps you had to take to reach your table, but now they feel like they’re about to melt.

Being so close to him months later feels like it’s your first date all over again. You hate it and love it all at the same time.

“I just ordered your favorite,” he says and you can hear the slight note of pride in his smooth voice.

His hair is covered from a black cap which he eventually takes off before running a hand through his hair; it grabs your attention with a new color that you haven’t seen him with in person before.

You point out the obvious fact about how he still remembers your order as you take a minute to observe the attractive features that make up the face you learned to love.

“Of course I do,” he simply replies, leaning in for a kiss.

The first kiss after three and a half months.

It feels so exciting and electrifying, just like the very first one you had a year ago, but at the same time it feels familiar too - like you’re reminiscing on a comforting memory you haven’t looked back on for a while.

His hand slides up your thigh, then travels up your hip only to sneak in discreetly beneath your shirt, sending you pleasant shockwaves. Soon enough he breaks the kiss though, careful not to bring any unnecessary attention on you.

“Next month I’m gonna have a week off.” Taehyun speaks up after a moment of silence between the two of you. After a sip of his beer, he continues: “I was thinking that you can come visit me if you want.”

Yes… Yes. You do. You want to scream it out loud. But the only thing you do is breathe in, staring inside the cup of your cocktail; trying to force yourself to speak before your mind turns blank.

“You don’t need to worry about money,” he adds as he shifts his gaze to you, hopeful and anticipating of your response. “It’s all on me, baby.”

There it is - the reminder you needed before giving any answers. His money, his fame. His life that’s so unfitting to yours. The pink balloon you found yourself in for a moment as he shared about his plan, tempting you to naively build dreams about your one week together, it pops, and brings you back to the harsh reality.

“Tae…” You shake head, “no matter what we do or tell each other we can’t be normal.”

Taehyun’s brows furrow at your choice of word.

Normal.

“This has to end at some point, I don’t think we should complicate things any further… as we’ve already discussed before.” You exhale deeply after blurting out the things you’ve been practicing on your way here. He didn’t hear the sound that escaped your lips because of the music mixed with the chatter, but if he did, he’d have known that saying all of this cost you an immense amount of energy.

You don’t glance at him even once, but Taehyun on the other hand, can’t stop staring at you like he’s in some sort of a bad dream that’ll end soon if he’s patient enough.

“Right, right…” He nods, finally able to force his eyes somewhere else. He peers down at his hands on the table that begin to tap nervously at the wooden surface, sharing almost the same rhythm as his heartbeat. “You’re right, that’s the wisest thing to do.”

You know it is, but hearing him agree turns out to be more painful than you expect.

For the best, this has to end soon, you remind yourself. Maybe not tonight, but tomorrow.

“I missed you,” Taehyun rises your body temperature through raspy whispers and open mouthed kisses which he scatters onto your skin almost in a rush; as if you’re going to disappear from his hands if he dares to slow down. “Missed you so fuckin’ much...”

His soft lips trace a path from your neck down to your cleavage and soon enough he’s even lower, running his tongue against your stomach before kissing that area sensually too. The slight moisture slipping from the corners of his mouth in addition to the delicate sucks makes you shudder as he simultaneously tugs on your underwear.

“Missed this sweet pussy too,” he invites his fingers into your walls effortlessly. His gaze focuses upon your lips and how they open for a silent gasp as he glides through with ease because of your already collected arousal. “Did she miss me?”

While anticipating an answer, Taehyun swirls his tongue inside his mouth before letting a string of saliva fall right onto your clit; he smears it all over your folds, provoking your thighs to open even wider for him.

“Tae—“ You arch spine, emphasising your need for something more than this lingering rush that’s growing in a pace that’s not quite enough for how much you ache for his touch right now. “Please…”

“I think she did.” A lustful spark shimmers in his eyes as his hand maintains its delicate motions. The movements make you moan every time his fingertips reach your sensitive bundle of nerves before slipping back down again. “Say it.”

At once he meets your eyes as his frame eventually hovers over your naked flushed body.

Your hands relax on his broad shoulders as your focus fixates on his face. Hopefully there’s not as much pain into your eyes as there is in your heart in this moment. You don’t want him to know how much exactly you’re actually hurting.

“I missed you every day,” you whisper softly as your noses touch; your mouths search for each other, thirsty for the other’s taste even more now. When you feel his hand guiding his cock to your entrance your breathing catches, but you still manage to repeat it. “Of course, I missed you.”

The second he hears your words, Taehyun crashes his lips against your mouth. Because he cannot bare hearing this one more time or because he enjoys the sound of it too much - he’s unable to tell.

As he leads the kiss swiftly your legs wrap loosely around his hips and your warm walls immediately squeeze onto him as he quickens the pace, eager to make up for all the time you were away from each other.

“Fuck—“ He grunts at the growing pleasure that he reminisced about night after night before breathing out against your neck, “finally… I swear to god nobody else can make me feel this way.”

His voice, husky and domineering despite his on going confessions, echoes in your fuzzy mind. Although you shouldn’t, you put in all the effort you can into memorising each word he says; you hold onto it tightly as the continuous thrusts gradually turn more rigid and sharp causing your nails to sink into his shoulder blades.

However, as amazing the buzzing sweet wave inside you feels, you cannot suppress the sadness that’s about to overpower you first.

You swallow another failed attempt to fight back the bitter emotion, but you can feel it lingering everywhere - in your heart, inside your stomach, on your tongue once he slows down his hips to grip your face, and inside your throat that feels like it’s closing up.

“Why are you crying?”

Taehyun peers into your eyes that are sparkling at him with a bittersweet emotion which he hasn’t gotten used to seeing inside them. His gaze lowers to your puffy lips, trembling as they separate with hesitation.

“I… I don’t know what’s gotten to me, s-sorry,” your arms wrap tighter to pull him closer. His thumb caressing your wet cheek only makes it worse for you. “Please, k-keep going.”

“Sweetheart,” he whispers under his breath as he fulfills your wish by resuming his thrusts - more forcefully though to distract you from the sorrow, “I’ll make it go away now, okay? Focus on me, baby.”

You grasp his shoulders while the delight starts to numb your mind with each intense push of his cock. The hits against your sweet spot are fast and strong enough to weaken your memory right away.

“There you go,” Taehyun’s pants blend with your whimpers ringing beneath him as the tears on your skin begin to dry. “Such pretty eyes, look at me, love.”

Something about seeing you cry for the first time made his heart clench, and now his mind fogs up, leaving him with only one goal - to make you cum as many times as possible so you can’t think of anything for the rest of the night.

Right now, he’d erase every single thought from your brain if he knows he’s capable of doing so.

The moment he feels you’re tightening up Taehyun’s eyes open so he doesn’t miss out on one flinch of yours.

“Yeah, I’m here, baby,” he murmus, trying to keep moving forward while your peak lasts, causing you to quiver beneath his frame. “Let go, baby, I’m right here.”

Yes, he’s here, and tomorrow morning he’s still going to be here, but you’ll be gone, because this time if he tries to stop you like all the previous times, you’re not going to look back.

But for now, you and Taehyun are close as you’ve never been before.

! please do not repost, copy or translate my works

! please keep in mind that english is not my first language. i apologise for any mistakes i’ve might missed

[bernardsbendystraws]

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒕 𝒛𝒐𝒏𝒆

⚠︎  mdni, smut, alcohol abuse, parental neglect, overall mature themes, and more [ this is made for all parts ]

⤷ Get to reading, sluts. No copying. Ask if you’d like to use this as ‘inspiration.’ Fuck off and fuck me, lets get horny!!!

with love and big tits, Rose Toy

©bernardsbendystraws

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* FINAL CHAPTER * Chapter 20: Our Comfort Zone

My heart laid heavy in my chest. The beauty of LA had faded, landing us in the vibrant, Boston-green summer time.

It looked happy. 

I looked happy. Most of the time I had found myself laughing harder and harder. Then, the single thought of his face popped into my mind, dying--cold and alone. It didn't make me sympathetic, it just made me numb. 

The lack of feeling was only accompanied by a certain sadness, one that was not devastated in the way I felt I should be. It was more of a depression of missed opportunities. He had known he was dying for a while. He had time to truly make amends. 

He didn’t. 

He still hadn’t. 

My dad was dying, any day I was warned might be the last. Weeks passed by, bags being packed as I prepared to move myself across the country. No item set in the bag brought me any nostalgia of his smiling face. I reminisced on his scowl that painted his expression while folding my baby blanket into the suitcase. That was it. 

“Kid…if you want to talk to him, time is closing up. It’s your decision,” Jimmy’s voice rings out, closing my thoughts as I straighten my gaze in front of me. The weight of his arm pulls me in comfortingly, my head falling on his shoulder with an emotional exhaustion. “--but, if you want to say something…I don’t think he’s gonna make it another week.” he explains. 

I had known time was closing. Jimmy gave me updates, ones he acquired from Johnny through work. I knew my answer, I knew what I wanted to do–I just didn’t want to have others look at me like I took a dying man’s last wish from his lifeless hands. 

“Hey,” My eyes flicker towards Matt, his shoes pattering into his room as he witnesses the sight before him. Jimmy squeezes my shoulders one last time before walking out of the bedroom. The pile of clothes strayed on the comforter makes my eyes squint with frustration, my hands covering my face. 

I hear his footsteps near, his body heat radiating onto my back. My wrists adorn his gentle hands as he peels my palms from covering my eyes. “Hey, take a deep breath,” he suggests. 

My body reacts to his words, air falling like a waterfall from my lips as the anxiety settles in the pit of my gut. “Good,” he encourages, letting his hand wander up and down my arms comfortingly. “--now, talk to me. I know it’s about your da–George.” he says, correcting himself quickly. 

George. 

The name that lingered in my mind, making my body toss in the sheets of a bed I found a safe haven. He haunted my heaven, my peace, no matter how much love I seemed to feel in the arms of home. The bitter scent of cigarette smoke lingered in the air of my mind somehow. I mean--it still littered my skin with a scar.

A wound that had healed on the surface only.

Sometimes, I wondered if he had ever stepped foot in Jimmy and Marylou’s house. 

Has he ever seen what a home looks like?

Has he ever felt what a home feels like?

Bitter-sweet. 

“I…I don’t know, Matt.” I let out. 

I did know. My mind had corrupted around my decision for a longer time than I was willing to admit. I just couldn’t seem to say it. 

Matt’s hands squeeze the tops of my arms gently as I see him from my peripheral vision. “I know your heart is telling you something. I know you, Y/n. Whatever decision you make, we’re all here for you. I’m here for you.” he whispers. 

My bottom lip quivers at his words. The sense of security created by the numbness clouding my emotions had always seemed to falter around Matt–especially when his lips uttered words soft enough to make me hurt. It wasn’t a hurt in a bad way—it was good, unfamiliar. Words I had always wanted to hear, but never did until my soul touched his. 

“I…I don’t know how to say it…I just–am I a bad person for wanting to leave things as they are? I have nothing left to say to the man,” my shoulders shrink inward as I feel Matt pull my body back against his, supporting my weight. “--The only words I have left are anger, things that won’t bring him or me any more peace. I just–I don’t have it in myself to give him more.” My breath staggers sharply as Matt brushes a stray piece of hair behind my ear. “What if people think I’m a bad person? I–what if that does make me a bad person? I…” The words fall helplessly off my tongue. Matt wraps his arms in front of me, caging me in his warm embrace. 

“You’re not a bad person for protecting your peace. You deserve to be selfish, you deserve to finally let go of this–of him. Your heart is telling you how to heal, listen to it.” he says. 

The gentle words reach my ears like church hymns. A subtle silence consumes us as I lean further into his embrace. The well of tears overflows, letting a single hot stream of emotion run down my cheek as I sigh a breath of relief. 

“I…thank you—I, um, I do–” my words break into pieces of a phrase. The soothing circles of his fingers clasp tighter as he presses a kiss to the side of my head. 

I feel his warmth breath against my ear, his nose grazing my scalp. “You don’t have to thank me–or even say anything. I’m here for you, I always wanna be here for you.” he says. 

I nod, letting my head nuzzle into the crook of his shoulder. The moment of silence indulges my mind with a comfort, a relieving ache in my heart. 

His chest vibrates against me, a chuckle from his lips slicing into the silence. “I love you, but we gotta pack. I’ll help you, okay?” I nod in agreement, watching as he starts to pile the clothes into the suitcase. 

“We have graduation in two days. I think Laura said the plan was to pack up the moving truck beforehand, so set aside whatever you’re wearing for the next couple of days. We leave on Sunday.” he mentions. 

A couple of days. 

The thrill in my veins is apparent as I giddily start pulling various clothes off of hangers from his–well, our closet. 

Our closet. 

Our room. 

Our home.

Our love.

__

The adrenaline had pushed through every ounce of my skin. Walking in front of hundreds of people was nerve racking to say the least. I was jealous. Nick, Matt, and Chris all got to walk, one after the other. I was stuck people away from them, searching for the comforting eyes that seemed to ease my anxiety to a puddle of rain.

My heels clacked on the stage. I barely remember anything from walking across. Honestly, I think if I had taken ten shots of straight liquor, it would be the same for my memory. A sense of accomplishment had overridden the anxiety into joy afterwards. Years of effort and hardwork, paying off. 

I wasn’t going to college. At first, it had been a scary statement, but now…not so much. Laura was just as sweet as Marylou. She had introduced me to her side of things on social media, even linking me to a couple of her own clients. I loved it. 

Life seemed impeccably good. Love surrounded every corner of my mind, healing the cracks in misconstrued beliefs. 

I am good enough. 

I am loveable. 

Marylou and Jimmy had embraced me in the group hug that Chris had insisted on. Madi had snapped the picture of the moment, sending it to me hours after. 

I had bid her a ‘see you later’ as we parted ways at the airport. She was flying out a day later, given that she didn’t want to rush herself too much with packing. 

Era was hard to hug. I melted in her arms, promising to call her at least every week. Her tears drenched my shirt, my wet sobs echoed through the airport lounge, soaking into her blouse. I knew we were going to visit. We had already started planning to come back after getting settled, but she was the person I had first texted when I needed pads. 

She was the first person I remembered hugging me like family. 

I thought she would be the only person too, but that belief had been washed away by gentle waves of blue water. Blue waves crashed on the sand, gentle enough to soothe the footprints to a flat surface. 

_

My heart was pumping out of my chest. A thin layer of sweat had started to dry down as I looked proudly around the room. 

Our room. 

“You like it, sweetheart?” Matt asks, slinging an arm around me. I place my palm on his chest. My eyes flicker towards him as I nod with a smile. He looks down at me with a soft halo of the sun gleaming into his eyes. I let myself bask in the sight of his admirable gaze, his arm tightening around me. 

“I, um, I was gonna give this to you on our date later, but I…I just can’t wait,” I see him reach around, pulling a velvet jewelry box out of his back pocket. My heart stutters in my chest, my eyes going wide as I look into his blue orbs. “Don’t freak out–I’m not proposing. Well, yet…but, I want to one day. It’s um…” he flicks open the small box. 

I gasp, my hands covering my mouth at the bedazzling sight. “Matt!” I exclaim breathlessly. 

He turns the box, a proud smile covering his face as he pulls the jewelry out. “It’s a promise ring. I got it in your size, but I know sometimes you hate having things on your hand…” Lifting up the necklace laced with a ring, he gestures for me to turn around. 

I let my hands drop to my sides, feeling his body heat wave off onto me. His focused breath fans on my ear as he brushes my hair to the side. I grab it, allowing him to clasp the jewelry. The intimacy of his delicate fingers shoots goosebumps on the back of my neck. The weight of the jewelry creates a comforting reassurance of security as I settle my hair back into place. 

“I…thank you,” I breathe out. I turn around, letting my hands fiddle with the simple ring hanging on the dainty necklace chain. 

My speechless mind runs laps around the anticipation of his eyes as I look up. “I still wanna take you on the date, I just…wanted to make a special memory, right here, in our new room.” he explains. 

I pout with adoration. My arms lurch, folding around his shoulders as he hugs me around the waist. “I love you, I love you so much.” I whisper.

Matt pulls back, letting his hand reach up and graze the hairs behind my ear. “I love you so much. Now, let’s go on that date and make some more memories, hm?” he suggests. 

I nod giddily, putting my hand in his as he drags us out the door of our home.

The outside air greets us with a wavering scent of unfamiliarity. Nothing in sight brings any comfort of familiarity. The unknown taunts me as I clutch onto Matt’s hand tighter, breathing a sigh of relief from the warmth radiating nostalgia and peace. 

“It’ll be okay, don’t worry. I’m right here with you. We’ll figure things out around here together.” Matt says, looking down towards me. 

I nod my head in agreement, following the pull of his hand around mine. 

Our steps walk down the sidewalk, a small trail leading off into a grassy area. Matt nudges my shoulder. I follow his floundering eyes, smiling at the endearing sight of a green checkered blanket laid in the middle of the field of worn grass that seems more yellow than green. 

“I know, I couldn’t find another blue blanket, but…” our feet meet the edge of the blanket as he gestures for me to sit down. I fold my hands under my knees, letting my weight fall slowly onto the sullen grass, expecting the hard surface of the dirt. Instead, I hear the air push out from the pillowy blanket. “--I found this one. It’s almost like a comforter, but–I figure with all the, you know, ‘lively’ grass around here, we’d want something more comfortable.” he explains.

I nod, watching as he sits next to me. The grass field extends in front of us for a short distance, a noticeable cliff drop off adjacent with the roofs of houses able to be seen. I admire the sight, the beaming sun settling just above the horizon. 

“Thank you,” I voice, turning my head towards Matt’s. 

“Of course, it’s not too far, it’s honestly one of the reasons I wanted the place so bad.” he mentions. 

I smile at him, my eyes darting behind us. I look in search of the familiar architecture of our new home. My eyes trace blindly, anxiety making my body swivel further around. 

“Hey,” I feel Matt’s hand clasp down around my thigh. My attention shifts forwards again. I catch his glance, seeing a knowing look in his eye. “Don’t worry—soon this will feel like home too.” A light laugh sways from his lips as he looks back at the sunset. The subtle squeeze of his hand around my thigh makes my anxiety shift outward as I let out a deep, uncertain breath. 

“I guess I’m just nervous, you know? I mean, we’re so far from everything I know. I just…” I trail off, mindlessly looping my fingers to the necklace around my neck. A smile reaches my face as I come into contact with the cold metal. I notice how much my body is leaning against his, a habit I hadn’t even acknowledged had become a habit. 

“It’s okay to be a little nervous, I am too, but…I mean,” his eyes flicker to mine. The soft sun makes his eyes seem endless, a house of mirrors reflecting perfection with each detail consumed by his pupils dialing. “--I’m your comfort zone, right?” I nod, biting the inside of my cheek softly. He leans downward, his forehead resting against mine as our eyes sink into each other, looking deeper than they had before. “I’m not going anywhere.” he lets out. 

His lips curl into a smile as I reach up to cup his cheek. I brush my thumb along the stubble lining his jaw, appreciating the intimacy of his eyes. I felt naked under his blue orbs, but not uncomfortable. It felt natural. A sheer, white nightgown floated on my body as I danced through a field of grass in my head. Sun drifted against my skin, the lack of fabric allowing the most delicate parts of my soul to be caressed with the heavenly warmth. 

His love felt like honey. His touch felt like cold water in the burning heat. Nothing but comfort chiseled in the lines of his forehead all the way to his rough, calloused fingertips. 

“I’m not going anywhere either.” I say. 

His smile grows. I feel the heat of his hand cover mine as I appreciate the soft prickle of his facial hair underneath my fingers. 

“Good,” he says, leaning further into my touch. “--because you’re my comfort zone too.” he says. 

The confession falls heavenly from his lips like a light rain from the clouds. He pulls my hand back from his face ever so slightly, pulling each individual finger to his lips, planting soft kisses on each finger. The comforting love and adoration leaks from his lips, creating a home in my own skin as he worships my body. 

He’s my comfort zone. 

I had known that for some time. My hand automatically reached for his, desperately wishing to have his skin against mine. It was a habit. It was in my true nature somehow. 

But, now…I am his comfort zone. 

The gentle kiss of his lips seemed to form into a familiar feeling, one that made my skin crawl with pure bliss. I watched the gentle crease in his brows unforrow with each passing peck along my fingertips, now shifting to plant the gentle touches on my knuckles. 

Our room. 

Our home.

Our comfort zone. 

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

Thank you so much for all of the love and support! This story is my favorite piece of work I’ve ever written and I hope to continue building on my skills to create more stories just as close to my heart as this one. 

Along this note, I have some ideas…

Like I said, this story is very close to my heart. It hurts to write ‘Final Chapter’ while typing this on my computer. I've always wanted to do this, but let me know what you think. 

So, this is the final chapter–chapter of Comfort Zone, however, I was thinking it might be cool to create ‘one shots’ within this realm of Y/n and Matt. This could be going back to during the plot line, or in the future. I know you guys LOVE your smut, I'd be open to writing more of it through these characters, along with FLUFF and ANGST!!! Anything really!

If this is wanted, please let me know in my inbox any requests you specifically have or if you like this idea. I’ll probably still do it regardless, but if there's something you REALLY want, I won’t know unless you tell me and I get lost in notifications here lol. 

THANK YOU FOR READING MY WORK AND SHOWING YOUR LOVE FOR IT!!! Now, let's make out. Thx. 

With love and big tits, 

Rose

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[vulpisnocturna]

Bloodstained Rubies - Chapter 1 - Snare

Not sure if I’m going to cross post here as well, but I’ll post the first chapter… in case I only continue it on AO3, this is the link

Chapter II

I do not condone this behaviour in real life. This is fictional. Please take care, read the warnings and avoid if you think this content may be triggering to you.

Warnings: Yandere Chrollo, Stalking, Kidnapping, Obssessive Love, Possessiveness, Jealousy, Drugging, Breaking and entering (Chrollo out here committing all the felonies)

Word Count: 5k

The rain had seeped into the cracks of the cobbled alleyway, rendering the stone slippery, dampening the aged brick walls caging the narrow passage, darkening the view even more. Straining eyes could only make out bulbous orange glows of faraway street lights, legs numbed from the cold autumnal air and unrelenting rainfall toiling to keep a rapid pace and avoid slipping on the damp stones.

Slowing down was not an option. Neither was turning back and choosing a different path. Over the sound of the roaring rain, soft footsteps could be heard, not too far away. Growing closer. Or perhaps it was a mere figment of an imagination much too vivid and active, and the danger was only the product of a life of warnings and cautionary tales. Like a monster under the bed.

Thirty steps. Thirty steps to the safety of the main street. Breath puffing in clouds of haze, raindrops adorning lashes, hair sticking to the skin, knees weak and unsteady.

Twenty.

It was closer now. Almost real.

Ten.

Almost tangible, close enough that the alleyway seemed to lengthen, dilating, making the main road impossible to reach. One slip on the damp cobblestones could spell demise.

Five.

The light was closer. People could be seen walking through the street, carrying umbrellas or hurrying through the rain. Safety.

One.

You inhaled sharply, your heart thundering in your ribcage, the sounds of the bustling street filling your ears, enveloping your heaving chest in relief. People walked by you, and you blended with the crowd, heading to the station. You had walked that alleyway a thousand times, and you’d never felt that dread, that feeling of being hunted. Targeted. Your bones had turned into ice in your body.

You had never been particularly impressionable, but in the last couple of weeks, you’d felt watched. But when you turned towards the alleyway, your eyes wandering around the street behind you, there was no one. You shook off the horrible feeling in your gut that told you to run and hide, and sought refuge in the warm underground station, tapping your phone at the gates and descending the stairs. No one was behind you. No one was out to get you. You were safe. You were going to go home and make yourself a cup of tea before you went to bed early.

You got on the train, sitting in a fairly crowded carriage, taking out Pride and Prejudice from your bag and resuming from where you had left off that morning. It was one of your favourite books, and you had read it dozens of times, but you still got some nostalgia for it from time to time.

The minutes passed, and you forgot all about your gut feeling in the alleyway, your mind immersed in the world of Elizabeth Bennett and her witty quips that always made you smile. She almost made you lose track of the stops, but luckily, you heard the announcement and stood up, hastily putting the bookmark at the page you had reached and hurrying to the platform.

Luckily, you lived a mere two minutes from the station, in the outskirts of the city, where trains could be heard even with the windows shut and the curtains drawn, but at least, you could afford your own place. It wasn’t all that bad, truly. It was a small house, reminiscent of a cottage with its brick walls and small rooms, and its low ceilings. It was cosy, covered with plants and books, it even had a small fireplace that was your pride and joy. You’d filled it with pillows, blankets and trinkets that had caught your eye in thrift shops and fair markets. You locked the door behind you, taking off your drenched coat and your damp boots, hating the feeling of wet socks clinging to your feet. You took them off too, deciding to have a hot shower before bed.

You had finished late at work, to the point where your boss had offered to get you some dinner, and you had gladly accepted, blinking your tired eyes at the computer screen to stay awake.

You were overworked and underpaid, but you needed that job desperately, and therefore, you made it a habit to gamble more unpaid hours for a more stable future. With the hope that one day, your hard work would pay off, and you’d get a promotion. So far, you’d been unsuccessful.

However, the week was now done, and you prepared yourself for a free day of peace. Saturdays were your favourite days. You usually tried to get up before nine, so that you could make the most of them. You made pancakes, went for a walk to the park next to your house, bought lunch at the quaint brunch stall by the lake and on good days, you ate under the weeping willow on the shore, basking in the sight of the tree branches swaying on the surface of the water, the water lilies crowding the shore and the sunlight reflecting on the lake. After that, you headed to the library in the city centre, where you would have spent all day if you could. You usually visited the market before you went home, and then, you would watch a film and head to bed later than usual. Sundays were your cleaning days usually, unless you wanted to meet up with a friend or needed to run errands.

You had no idea that Saturday would be the last chance for you to experience all those things.

The library was quiet that day, even though the rain had continued to pour down the city since Friday morning and people usually flocked there or to the museums and cinemas when it was gloomy outside. In your opinion, it was the best time to be at the library: the big, arched windows of the upper floor offered a scenic view of the storm brewing outside, and the warmth of the orange lights and the mahogany bookshelves of the antique library made you feel cosy. You were sitting on a plush green armchair, your favourite spot in the corner of the upper floor, right by the window and the classics section. Something about the smell of the old books that were gathered there offered you comfort.

‘Excuse me, miss’ you heard a soft, masculine voice say, timbre smooth and rich. You lifted your eyes from your book, looking at the man in front of you. Your stomach dropped for a second, and you swallowed, trying not to stare. He was around your age, perhaps a few years older, and the most attractive man you had ever seen in your life. His lean, tall build was highlighted by smart black trousers, a simple maroon jumper and a long, black coat. Round, slightly upturned grey eyes sat in a face of sharp cheekbones, angular jaw, delicate and yet masculine nose and well-defined lips stretched into a slight smile. He was wearing an odd bandana of sorts on his forehead, but it did nothing to dampen his looks. Shoulder-length black hair fell in unruly strands around his neck and shorter bangs that covered parts of his forehead, and round turquoise earrings shone on his ears, the bright hues contrasting against the beautiful dark hair.

‘Uhm- yes?’ you murmured, righting your posture a little under his gaze.

‘I was wondering if you dropped this bracelet by any chance’ he said, lifting a hand, your gold bracelet dangling from his tapered, willowy fingers. You glanced at your wrist, clearing your throat.

‘Yeah- yes, thank you, that’s mine’ you said, holding the book with one hand and lifting yourself up, extending your hand. Instead of giving it to you, he held your hand and wrapped it around your wrist, clasping it and giving you a smile. Your breath threatened to falter, and you were almost hypnotised by him as he gave one last stroke to the back of your hand before he let it go.

‘There. Should be safe from slipping now’ he said, and you noticed he was holding a book in his hand. The Picture of Dorian Gray, one of your favourite books. So not only was he handsome, he also had good taste.

‘Thank you’ you said again, smiling at him. He nodded.

‘I’m Chrollo’ he said, extending a hand. You shook it, giving him your name in return, and he said it himself, as though he was weighing it on his tongue. It sounded good in his voice. Soft, like a gentle caress on your spine. It made shivers run down your spine.

‘I’ve never seen you here before’ you said conversationally, hoping your social skills hadn’t been too hindered by your nervousness around someone so attractive and charming speaking to you.

‘This is my first time visiting this library, actually. I have only recently moved here, and I happened to walk by and see this building, and I had to visit it. It is truly beautiful here. A very pleasant place to read in peace’ he said, and you nodded along. He was so like you, you thought the same of this library. It was your special place in this city.

‘I feel the same way. I come here every Saturday, just to escape the daily life for a while. How are you finding the city? Are you here for work?’ you asked, finding yourself drawn to that stranger for some reason. There was something fascinating about him, something enigmatic. Or perhaps it was just the way his grey eyes seemed so intense, as though he could read your mind. He was like a lead character in a book.

‘I am. The city centre is quite beautiful architecturally, but I haven’t had the chance to partake in much sightseeing’ he said, ‘and you? Why are you here? Work, or is this the city you grew up in?’

‘No, I grew up in a very small town you probably never heard of. A boring place. I came here to find some work a couple of years ago’ you said, hoping that before the conversation ended, you could get his number. You hadn’t been in the dating scene for a while, and though you were busy, this stranger was just too intriguing. He seemed so intelligent, soft-spoken and genuinely interested in you.

‘I see. I’m afraid I must take my leave now. Allow me to buy you a coffee before that�� he said, putting down the book in a basket by the banister. Your stomach felt warm, and you chuckled nervously, finding it hard to keep eye contact when he was staring at you so intently.

‘Oh, no, you’ve already found my bracelet, I wouldn’t want to keep you. Besides, the prices here are outrageous’ you stammered. Did he like you? Was he truly... flirting with you? This was more like a scene out of a romance book rather than real life.

‘Please, I insist’ he smiled, and you could not say no.

‘Oh, well... thank you. That’s really kind of you’ you said, following him towards the stairs. Chrollo’s eyes softened, and he shook his head.

‘It’s my pleasure’ he only said, smoothly, nonchalantly, as he started to descend the stairs, with you following close.

The cafeteria was placed near the entrance, and you had always deemed it too expensive as a treat. But Chrollo did not even have a change in expression as his eyes followed the menu on the chalkboard on the wall.

‘What would you like?’ he asked, and you eyed the drinks and the corresponding prices, gaze trailing to seek the cheapest one.

‘Uhm... just a coffee would be fine, thank you’ you said hesitantly. He let out a soft sigh.

‘I would not offer it to you if I could not afford it. What would you really like?’ he asked, a sly smirk on his face. Your cheeks felt hot, and you smoothed the front of your jumper in an attempt to calm the embarrassment of him calling you out.

‘A chai latte, please’ you murmured, and he nodded, seemingly pleased as he made his way to the till and took out a black leather wallet from the pocket of his coat. When he came back, he was holding your drink along with his. From the smell, it was black coffee. Quite in tune with his gothic appearance.

‘Thank you, Chrollo’ you smiled at him, holding the cup with both hands when he handed it to you, warming your cold fingers.

‘It was a pleasure to talk to you. I hope to see you again soon’ he said, standing closer to you, his fingers reaching to tuck a wayward strand of hair behind your ear. You didn’t realise you were holding your breath until he stepped away.

‘Me too’ you murmured, earning another slight smile from him as he walked away, sipping his coffee and disappearing behind the corner that led to the exit.

You smiled, fingertips reaching to your cheek, the skin feeling warm where he had touched you.

You found you could not wait until the next Saturday, hoping he would remember that you’d said you’d be there and visit the library again.

Your Sunday was spent running errands, getting a haircut, visiting your friend who was in the hospital following a fall from the stairs that had resulted in two broken legs and a concussion. He was quite optimistic despite saying that he had had no idea how he’d fallen, that he’d just felt pain on his nape and then he had lost consciousness. When he’d woken up, his legs were horribly broken and bent as he had fallen from a flight of stairs.

You’d just seen him the day of the accident in the morning, and he had seemed fine, not dizzy or anything. Although he’d been reminiscing about a crush he’d had on you years ago, which to you was odd, as you had had no idea he had ever liked you.

Nevertheless, the doctors had said he’d been lucky to survive because his head trauma was nothing short of dangerous. You were just glad he was in good spirits and looking forward to getting better.

You smiled slightly, turning the keys to your door and stepping in, holding the letters you hadn’t yet opened as you walked into the living room.

The first one was your electricity bill, the second one a useless letter of invite to a neighbourhood church meeting-

‘Hello, darling’

You let out a scream, your heart skipping a beat as you spun around, the letters falling to the ground, and your terrified eyes set on the man who was lounging on your sofa, sipping a cup of tea from your favourite mug.

Chrollo.

It was Chrollo. The guy whom you’d met the day before. The kind, handsome man who’d found your bracelet and offered to buy you a coffee.

‘W-what are you doing here? How do you know where I live? How did you get in?’ you stuttered, taking a trembling step back. He took another sip, setting your mug down.

‘I came to visit you. You have a very flimsy lock, it’s very unsafe’ he said calmly, as though his words were not completely insane. He’d broken into your house? Was he- a stalker? The presence you’d felt in the alleyway… was that him?

You felt nausea coil in your gut, making your head spin with fear and horror.

Another step back. His eyes were on you. Calm, unfazed. He was smiling slightly, as though amused. But he was sitting, and you were less than ten feet away from the door. But it was locked. You needed time. At least a few seconds of advantage.

Your phone. You would call the police whilst you talked to him. But your phone was in the hallway. Not with you.

‘Chrollo- please go away’ you tried pleadingly, hoping it would make him spare you. It did not.

‘There is no need to worry. I won’t hurt you, darling’ he said, voice soft and sweet. You shivered, and when you saw he was taking another sip of his coffee, you bolted to the door.

Your fingers had barely managed to graze the keys when he appeared in front of you, blocking the door, clucking his tongue against his teeth. How had he managed to get there so quickly? What was he going to do to you?

The kitchen. You needed to get to the back door. Maybe grab a knife and stab him.

‘Now, now, this would be much easier if you just listened’ he said, but you did not wait for him to grab you. You made a beeline for the kitchen, and you had almost reached the handle when he once again appeared in front of you. You flinched, stumbling back, spinning to the counter and grabbing a large knife. Chrollo let out a soft laugh.

‘Oh, darling. I admire your efforts, but that won’t help you. Put it down’ he said easily, one hand in his pocket as he approached you. You swallowed heavily, cold sweat clinging to your spine as your fingers tightened around the handle until you thought you could feel welts stinging your skin.

You could hear the hammering of your heart in your ears, the heavy sound of your panting.

When he took another step, you swung at his stomach. Your wrist was caught in an iron grip, and you hissed in pain, your fingers loosening instinctively until the knife clattered to the ground.

Your eyes burnt with tears, and you tried to punch him, which only resulted in your other hand being caught. Thrashing wildly, like a caged animal, you kicked and pulled to no avail.

Chrollo was too strong. Inhumanly so. He was like a brick wall, completely unfazed by your attempts at escaping or hitting him.

‘Let me go! Let me go!’ you screamed your lungs out, until one of his hands lifted to cover your mouth and he pushed you against the wall, trapping you against it.

‘Shh, shh. You are being such a brat, my love. This is all futile, can’t you see? Where’s the sweet girl I met yesterday? The one who could not stop blushing and smiling at me?’ he asked against your ear, pushing his body more into you. Your eyes widened as you felt a hard bulge against your backside.

No. No, no, no. This could not be happening. Not to you. Not here. This was your safe haven. Your home.

You screamed, sounds muffled by his hand, and he let out a sigh.

‘You have nothing to fear. I don’t plan on acting on my desires as of yet. However, your defiance is starting to irritate me. I’m going to have to take more drastic measures’ he said, and you felt his hand leave your mouth briefly and return pushing a cloth to your mouth and nose. Your heartbeat shot up as panic gripped your stomach, and you held your breath, kicking and thrashing, unable to get him off you until you had to breathe in that sweet-smelling scent. He held it there for a few seconds, and your head immediately started spinning, your ears starting to ring.

‘I’m truly sorry to have to do this, darling. If you’d been compliant, I wouldn’t have had to knock you unconscious’ he said, and your legs wobbled when he pulled it away, to the point where they could not hold your weight and you slumped to the ground. He caught you, holding you against him, and even though you tried to fight back, to push him away, your body was limp and it would not do what you wanted it to.

‘What… did you give me?’ you breathed, vision blurry, your body completely numb. He pushed away the strands of hair from your face, stroking your cheek.

‘Shh. Just an incapacitating agent. This will make you sleep for a few hours. Close your eyes, my love. You must be so tired after all that screaming and thrashing. You can rest now, I’ll watch over you’ he said gently, and you blinked slowly, trying to see him through the dark splotches in your field of view, trying to curse him, to beg him to leave, but your mouth would not move anymore. Soon, the darkness pulled you in and made you its prisoner.

Chrollo smiled, stroking your soft hair, tracing the skin of your jaw and lips. He hadn’t been able to hold himself any longer after having made contact with you. He’d first seen you a month earlier, in that picturesque library where you were curled on a green armchair, completely spellbound as you read Pride and Prejudice in front of an arched window. He had been entranced from the first moment he’d seen you. It wasn’t just your appearance, though he was convinced there was no woman more beautiful than you were, but your mannerisms, your soft smiles as you read specific lines, the way your eyebrows furrowed when you were concentrating, the natural innocence that radiated from you, that had been what had truly ensnared him. That moment, he’d decided that he needed to know everything about you, from your hobbies to your favourite colour to your life story.

He had never fallen in love, but the feeling that had bloomed in his cold heart must have been love: it was desperate, all-consuming, and yet so gentle and calming. It burnt and soothed his soul at the same time. Images of you plagued his every second, and he could think of nothing but to have you all to himself. Why should the world be allowed to benefit from your presence? Why should people be allowed to leer at you, desire you, want you for themselves? He wanted all of you to be consumed by him just as every part of him was consumed by you. He did not want to share your affection with anyone else.

He had followed you home many times, making sure you were safe. After all, you didn’t even know how to use Nen. You were so delicate, like turquoise and amber gemstones. So beautiful, yet so easily broken. With his new love for you came a heart-wrenching fear of losing you: in a world like that, you could never protect yourself. Only he could offer you enough safety.

Despite being a normal civilian, your intuition and gut feeling was impressive. Sometimes, he had to rely on Zetsu in order to avoid being sensed by you. You had a keen sense of danger. Not that it would help you.

Your house was little, much too inadequate and meagre for someone who deserved the most beautiful things the world had to offer. But you would not have to live in this dingy neighbourhood, with the train tracks so close to your windows, for much longer. Despite the grimy neighbourhood, your cottage was cosy. Decorated with everything that made up your lovely personality, Chrollo had felt his chest swell with warmth as he walked silently around the living room the first time he’d broken in, examining your collection of books, seeing which ones were more tattered, lines on the spines of cheap copies. You deserved the feel of an antique book in your hands, not one of those second-rate editions. He could tell from the décor how much you loved this place. He would make sure you had plants, a fireplace, paintings and books and whatever else your heart desired.

All the treasures in the world had been made for you, he’d decided. And he’d steal them all. Then, he had wandered to the small bedroom connected to the living room. His eyes were accustomed to the darkness, he could see your sleeping form curled under the blankets, lips parted and breath steady and heavy. You looked so beautiful, so peaceful. He had the urge to slip the blanket off you, hold you to him, bury his face in your hair. But he didn’t. Not when he could not see your reaction. He wanted you to be awake, wanted you to want him to do all those things.

Temptation had taken him as far as stroking your hair, bending his head to press his lips against the top of your head. The scent of it, so sweet and reminiscent of a spring meadow, had almost made him groan.

He had visited you at night more often, and every time, he would dream of you afterwards, always waking up burning with desire. He needed you. Needed you all to himself. And so he resorted to doing what he did best: steal you.

He knew your patterns well after a few weeks: you worked a contemptible job undeserving of you Monday to Friday, and often stayed late, to the point where you would have to walk back to the station in the dark through dingy alleyways. It was completely and utterly unacceptable. On Saturdays, you walked through the park near your house and then went to the library in the city centre. On Sundays, you stayed home. Before he stole you, though, he wanted to speak to you.

The Sunday he had planned to meet you as you went about your errands, he had seen you visit a man you seemed friendly with. You had gone for lunch with him, laughed at his inane jokes, smiled at him. Chrollo had gotten closer to overhear the conversation, finding out that the swine was infatuated with you. Jealousy he had never felt in his life had burnt hot and bitter in the pit of his stomach, and he had barely been able to restrain the urge to kill him there and then.

But he couldn’t, not in front of you. You were too precious and sweet to bear such a sight. And he would need to make it painful, as punishment for the crime committed. He also did not like the idea of you shedding tears for that moron. No, he would have to kill him after he stole you. It would not do for you to weep for him, be consumed with thoughts about him, when Chrollo wanted him to disappear from the face of the Earth. It did not mean he couldn’t inflict pain on him in the meantime, though.

So that was what he had done. It was a meagre consolation, mere crumbs of reprieve for his resentment, but at the very least, he had had the pleasure of seeing him fall on his legs in the worst way. The worst possible fractures would be there, possibly incredibly painful and inoperable. He hoped the hit to his head had not made him a vegetable. He wanted him cognisant and receptive when he returned to visit him.

Because of the little mishap, he hadn’t been able to steal you on that Sunday and had had to wait one more week, which had only fuelled his bitterness for your acquaintance. However, it had also given him the possibility of meeting you at the library on the following Saturday. And God, you were truly delightful. Sweet and shy, kind and trusting. He had had to leave, or he would have stolen you right there and then. He could see you liked him, his touch. You had been keen to have more. And he would be delighted to grant your wishes.

Which was why he had chosen the next day to wait for you at your house. And now, he finally had you in his arms, though you had been a little recalcitrant. It had saddened him to have to render you unconscious, and the fact that you had seemed so frightened despite him reassuring you he had no intention of harming you was deeply displeasing. Still, he would be a liar if he denied that your fervour and defiance hadn’t tempted him, too. You had just been thrashing in his arms, rubbing against his body in the most sinful ways, and he had only wanted to have you at that very moment. But it would not do. You had been too scared and taken aback to enjoy the encounter, and he planned to make it unforgettable for the both of you.

So he had merely resorted to knocking you unconscious so you would stop causing a commotion.

He picked you up gently, lowering you on the sofa whilst he went to see if there was anything he needed to take with him. He could get you more clothes, ones that would look perfect on you. But he still got you a few handpicked garments for the time being, including your prettiest lingerie, which was utterly ravishing. He could hardly wait to see it on you and tear it off your body.

Your perfume was on the dresser, and he happened to have developed quite a liking for it. It wasn’t as expensive as something he could have gotten for you, but he could find a substitute for it that resembled its scent in the future. For now, he put it in the bag he’d taken with him. None of your books were of any significance, he had memorised the ones you liked the most and planned to get you antiques of those. Jewellery was also not an issue. He could get you so much better. Rubies or emeralds would look stunning on you, he thought. He got your passport, wallet and phone, just to throw off the police, and closed the bag. He put the knife you’d tried to use on him back in the holder and exited the house, putting the bag in the trunk of his car and going back to get you. You were still unconscious, sprawled on the sofa, and he checked once again that no signs of struggle could be seen before he picked you up, took the keys from the dresser next to the front door and closed the door behind him.

He lowered you on the backseat, closing the door and letting out a sigh as he walked to the front and locked the doors before he drove away. You were finally his.

Chapter II

[10piecechickennuggy]

Of pain and healing - Trafalgar Law x Fem!reader - Oneshot

WARNING: Mature content ahead.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own One Piece or the art featured above. This is a fan created work.

“Traffy.” Luffy’s expression was the most serious she’d ever seen. “Take good care of y/n.” 

What? 

After everything. After sailing together for six months. After being flung halfway across the world and reuniting at the war of the best. After having his own brother die in his arms, Luffy was leaving her with another captain for two years?

Their friends were scattered around the world, doing who knows what. They’d sent out the message to reconvene in two years at Sabaody, but she was here. She’d expected to stay with him. To train with him. To support him in any way she could. He was her captain. Her friend. Her nakama.

“Luffy!” Y/n gripped the railing and prepared to jump overboard, intending to swim to him. A pair of strong, tattooed arms wrapped around her midsection and effectively stopped her from doing so.

“She’ll be safe with me, Strayhat-ya!” Law called over the girl’s thrashing. 

Her arm stretched outward, vainly grasping for her captain. “No! Luffy, I won’t leave you!” Water had begun to form in her eyes, blurring her vision. “You’re going to be king of the pirates! How can you do that without any crew?!”

Luffy laughed. He was bandaged and bloodied, intending to spend his time on a deserted island, and he was laughing? Was her panic that funny?

“When we meet again, I’ll be stronger than ever!” The boy exclaimed proudly, his shoulders broad. “I expect the same from you!”

For a moment, she stopped struggling. This couldn’t be real. She was having a nightmare. There was no way her captain would abandon her. Luffy wouldn’t do that.

“Bepo! We’re going now!” Law used her moment of denial to pick the girl up, moving toward the door.

When the sirens screeched and the submarine lurched, signaling its descent into the waves, her panic resumed tenfold. She screamed incoherently. She squirmed, kicked, and clawed at the railing and then the air. Obscenities were hurled at Law. But he did not relent.

Once they’d gotten inside and the door closed, she didn’t stop fighting. Fists were hurled at the thick steel door. Nails broke as she dug at the metal. Tears fell in hot, angry streams.

Law’s grip only tightened on her waist, his forehead digging into her back. When she fell to her knees, he followed. Her tears turned into choking sobs and wails. Her heartbreak echoed with an intensity matching the alarms blaring throughout the submarine.

Why? Why was Luffy doing this to her? She didn’t understand.

Eventually the sirens ceased, announcing the craft’s successful descent, and she began to quiet. Her body shook as she held herself. Her breath quickened to near hyperventilation - the finality of her sentence sinking in.

When Law lifted her in his arms, her body fell limp. Why wasn’t she waking up? She began to feel numb, shock taking hold of her senses. The strong arms cradling her to a warm, broad chest went unnoticed. Her mind raced, the unknown of her circumstance paralyzing.

Before she could register the change, she was being sat down onto a cold examination table, the abrupt temperature startling her back to the present. Focusing her eyes, she found Law’s form turned away and shutting a door. The lock clicked in a satisfying tone.

The room was cold, sterile, reminiscent of a doctor’s office. The only hint that she wasn’t inside a hospital was the desk overflowing with papers and books set to one side. It looked like someone’s personal library had exploded over roughly half of the room.

Her senses still lagging, she jumped when Law’s hands slapped the table on either side of her. His arms were rigid, trapping her in place on the metal slab. His legs rested between hers as he leaned forward, his forehead coming into contact with her shoulder. 

“I’m sorry.” His voice was soft. Far softer than she’d heard over these last weeks.

He withdrew just enough so that their eyes could meet. His golden orbs reflected the fluorescent lights, appearing like lanterns amidst his dark circles. “I know you’re suffering. But I promise to care for you the best I can.”

Her eyes widened. Where was this coming from? The Trafalgar Law she’d seen at Marineford, the man who saved her captain’s life, was cold and unfeeling. He was an apathetic, calculating, unapologetic murderer. A captain of the Worst Generation. But as he raised a hand to smooth out the mess she’d made of her hair, she found herself leaning into his touch.

***

He wouldn’t leave her alone - not for long at least. He’d made her sleep in his room, insisting that the crew’s quarters were unfit. 

He rarely slept in his own room, instead passing out at his desk after studying medical documents for countless hours. On the rare nights he did make it to the Captain’s quarters, he chose to sleep on the small couch. 

Those first several nights, she barely slept. Perched on Law’s plush bed and staring out the porthole became her constant position, only resting when her body gave way to exhaustion. Spotting the occasional fish became the highlight of her days.

When a week had passed this way, Law decided it’d been long enough.

At first, she’d fought him on it. She refused to leave the room, not wanting to spend time with any of the Heart Pirates. She didn’t want to grow close to them. She already had a crew - the Straw Hats were her nakama.

But she was no match for Law’s strength or his Ope Ope powers. If she wouldn’t get up, he’d carry her. If she fought against his hold, he’d create a room and teleport them both. 

He forced her to eat her meals with his crew. At first, she wouldn’t talk to them. Their welcoming greetings were met with neglect and half-hearted pleasantries. But each trip to the mess hall became less eventful. 

“Why are you doing this?” She asked him one day while he dragged her to breakfast. “Why put so much energy into making me eat?”

Law clicked his tongue, his tone akin to chastising a child. “Your captain entrusted you to my care. How do you think he would react if I returned you malnourished?”

Eventually, she began to open up. Slowly - excruciatingly at times - she came to know a few key members of the Heart Pirates.

There was Bepo - a depressed polar bear mink and the ship’s navigator. His fur was the softest thing she’d ever felt.

Ikkaku was the only other female onboard. Her tomboyish personality made her a great fit for the mostly male crew.

Penguin and Shachi were a pair of near inseparable idiots. Their constant antics and terrible jokes brought some much needed entertainment to Y/n’s dark mind.

But always in her thoughts was the wish to be back home - aboard the Thousand Sunny. With the Straw Hats Pirates, sailing towards the One Piece. She’d have given anything to be with her nakama.

***

When the night terrors started, Law knew his efforts weren’t enough. 

He was headed to bed after a late night of pouring over medical texts. Entering the room quietly, he’d found her form slumbering peacefully beneath the sheets of his bed.

Law had smiled at her snoring, glad she was finally getting some restful sleep. Her state had begun concerning him - sleep deprivation was a quick killer. But it seemed his attempts to get her accustomed to life alongside his crew had been working.

Satisfied with himself, he went into the attached bathroom. Removing his shirt to reveal a muscled, tattooed chest, he took in his reflection. His eyes were sunken, the permanent dark bags appearing to have worsened. 

Turning on the sink, he began to splash water on his face. Then the shrieking started. 

He rushed into the bedroom to see Y/n distressed. She was screaming, thrashing in her sleep as if she were being held down. The wails were panicked, desperate for relief from whatever horrors plagued her unconscious mind.

Law rushed to the bedside, placing a firm hand on her shoulder to keep her in place. Inked letters spelling “Death” came into his vision, an unwelcome layer of irony adding to the chaos. He shook her head, willing his worries away before bringing his other hand to stroke her hair.

“Shh.” He spoke calmly, knowing that an abrupt awakening could spell danger for the girl. “You’re alright, Y/n-ya.” 

When her eyes fluttered open, they were glossy with tears. She didn’t stop to ponder the distraught expression on Law’s face. She only reached forward, wrapping trembling arms around his torso and pulling him down to her level.

A fleeting moment of confusion caused the man to hesitate before he held her. She sobbed quietly into his chest as he rubbed soothing circles on her back. 

“Why are you being so kind to me?” She’d asked through sniffles one night after he’d calmed her.

Law sighed, his eyes closing under scrunched brows before he answered. “Because I know how it feels to have someone you love ripped away from you.”

***

For once, the submarine was docked on an island - one she’d refused numerous offers to explore. Birds flew over the horizon and waves could be heard lapping against the metal hull. Y/n hadn’t realized how much she missed the sounds of the surface.

Why had Luffy left her here? Was she that much of a hindrance to his training? She understood that he wanted to spend this time getting stronger. As they were now, none of the Strawhat Pirates were ready to face the New World. But could they not grow together?

Suddenly, shouting and gunfire broke her train of thought.

Springing to her feet, she tore through the metal hallways like a wild animal. She’d be damned if a Marine attack killed her new friends, leaving her stranded. 

Wait. Friends?

Flinging the vessel’s main door open, Y/n jumped as a stray bullet barely missed her. The metal rang like a bell under impact, a small dent marring canary paint. She looked out to the island; soft sand was stained with blood. A Navy ship was docked not far away, her men engaged in battle with the Heart Pirates.

Both sides appeared to be struggling, though Y/n’s hosts were faring worse than the Marines. White and orange boiler suits blurred with the unmistakable blue and white of uniformed soldiers. At the heart of it all, Law could be seen slaughtering enemies one after another - His devil fruit and sword in perfect synchronization.

In contrast to their captain, the Heart Pirates’ lower ranking members were obviously floundering. They were outnumbered, even after the countless Marines that had already fallen. If the tides of battle didn’t turn soon -

Y/n jumped over the railing, sprinting forward the second her boots met wood. A body lay where the small dock’s planks turned to sand. She swiped the rifle laying nearby as she continued to run, choosing to ignore the stickiness which covered her hands. 

Her first target was a man advancing on Bepo - a sword swinging dangerously close to the polar bear’s neck. Taking quick aim, she steadied her breath before firing. The bullet went straight through the man’s head, his body dropping instantly. 

The navigator took notice of his savior, shouting a quick “thanks” before he moved to another target.  This time, he chose to maul a marine who was advancing on Ikkaku. Blood sprayed as the soldier’s right arm was ripped off, a bloodcurdling scream erupting over the battlefield. 

She took aim again, taking out two marines engaging Shachi and Penguin. One by one, enemy soldiers fell to expertly aimed shots. She was a weapons master, afterall. 

The battle began to turn, the two sides evenly matched before the numbers tilted in the Heart Pirates’ favor.

“Everyone! Back on the ship!” Law’s order rang over the bloodied terrain as the surviving marines began their retreat. 

Immediately heading their captain’s orders, the entire crew bolted for the Polar Tang. But a hand on Y/n’s shoulder prevented her from following. 

“Room.”

Before she could register what was happening, she had been transported into Law’s room. Turning, she found the man standing behind her. Blood was splattered across his form, drying crimson clinging to his goatee.

“What are you - “

Her question was cut short, startled into silence by Law advancing on her. She quickly stepped away until her shoulder blades met the cool steel of the room’s door. Her eyes darted around the room, panic rising in the back of her thoughts. 

What had she done wrong? Should she have stayed on the ship? Had she interfered with one of his plans?

She yelped when his fist landed beside her ear.

“Strayhat-ya isn’t getting you back.”

Law’s expression was one of pure anger. Fury morphed his usually stoic features, an inferno burning behind his gilded irises. Had she not been taken aback by his words, she would have been terrified.

“But Luffy said in two years - “

“To hell with Strawhat!” His fist banged again, this time leaving a dent in the steel door. His neglect to add the customary -ya didn’t go unnoticed. “He had you right there at Rusukaina, but instead sent you away with another man!?” 

She shrank under his gaze. Law was usually so unexpressive. Even the tender moments they’d shared were not only rare but punctuated with only concern or melancholy. Never had she seen him display such intense emotion. 

“He said he wants me to get stronger.” Why was she defending her captain? He’d abandoned her - tossed her aside to focus on himself. Didn’t he know how much she was hurting?

“You’re already plenty strong.” Law sneered, voicing her thoughts before they’d fully formed. “You just saved my entire crews’ asses. If he couldn’t appreciate what he already had, ” Law paused, removing his fist from the door and moving it to hold her waist. “Then I will.”

His lips crashed into hers with a passion she’d not experienced before. They were soft, moving fervently against her own as she reciprocated his movements. He smelled of musk and pine - the scent reminiscent of Christmas as it invaded her senses. 

Each caress of their lips sent bolts of electricity down her spine. When his tongue probed for access, she granted it with a happy humm. Their wet muscles mingled in a dance of unspoken desire. All the sleepless nights he’d sit up with her, all the times he’d leave his work to check on her, all the effort he’d put into ensuring her health and wellbeing, all the energy and care he’d continue to exert for her - it all came to a head as one passionate kiss bled into the next.

Strong arms brought her against a firm chest, holding her tightly. When her fingers laced into his raven locks and tugged ever so gently, he growled into her mouth. In a single swift motion, he lifted her off the ground.

Her legs were still wrapped around his torso when she fell into the plush mattress. Their bodies were pressed impossibly close, the lines where her being stopped and his began had blurred. It wasn’t long before the two had become a heaving, sweaty mess of passionate flesh and sin.

***

Two years had passed quicker than either of them had expected.

“Y/n!” Luffy shouted in excitement as he ran towards her, his rubber arms stretching out to wrap around the girl.

She giggled, returning his embrace.

“Why weren’t you on Sabaody? We waited for you until the Marines attacked.” His confusion was sincere as he released her and tilted his head. But before she could respond, he continued with a wide grin. “Doesn’t matter now! Come on, we’ve got some kids to save before we leave this island!”

When he’d turned to run off, Law spoke up. His arms were crossed over his jacket-clad chest. “Wait, Strawhat-ya. Y/n has something to say.”

Luffy turned to face her, his expression now serious.

She shook her head before moving towards Law. “I won’t be going back with you. I’m a Heart Pirate now.”

Law smirked, wrapping an arm around her shoulders before he leaned down. After placing a kiss to her forehead, he glared at Luffy. “And my girlfriend.”

[rainthespiritual]

Electric Love ~ Dot

An American Horror Story AU fic Based on season 2, asylum.

TRIGGER WARNINGS TAKE SERIOUSLY :

Angst, electroshock therapy, torture, it being asylum is itself a trigger warning, depression, forced medication, self harm, suicide, litteraly everything bad like that please be warned thank you 🙏

Plot : You're a patient in the asylum with kit

status : slightly edited

A/n : Idk how long this will be but I plan on making it atleast a couple parts... probably a series..

"Please stop! STOP it!" you cry, trying to pull your arms away from the two guards dragging you. You look around trying to make sense of where you are again but you immediately regret it as it all comes back. The darkness around consumes you and you truly ask yourself if you are in hell.

"No.. no no no NO NO PLEASE LET ME GO!" you scream again and again seeing the same walls you've seen.. again and again, the same place you were condemned to the place you are trapped, like a mouse in some sick maze. Darkness all around you in every corner, lingering in the air even. The same sickening song playing again and again in the common room, making you more nauseous with every note and every tune. The record player taunting you daily, you swear it's asking you to bash it in. To destroy it. You want nothing more than to lift up that stupid ugly thing, over your head and crack.. Oh the release youd feel is almost worth the punishment.

Most of the time you barely can understand what's around you anymore, it's all so familiar but also so foreign. Unknown to you it's a side-effect of the pills they force down your throat, and you sadly have no choice. You either take them or some sick man you don't know will hold your nose closed forcing you to open up to breathe but instead of air, you get the sick salty taste of fingers and medicine that never seems to go away, instead it lingers. Those damn pills taste terrible even just sitting them on your tounge to swallow makes you nauseous. Hell everything about this damn place made you nauseous the people, the smells, the air, the pills, the treatment and you could go on and on and on If you were sober enough.

The irony smell in the air, reminiscent of blood never seemed to go away and you can recognize it on the hands of some of the staff, 'why' you wonder 'why do their hands smell like blood and death'. The answers you've seemed to come up with terrify you to no end so you prefer to ignore it, to take the pills. Even though they don't seem to help much at all.

You open your eyes not even realizing they've been shut, you feel weirdly numb. But not so numb you feel nothing, just numb enough to be dazed and confused just how they like it. Compliant and scared. They say things to you that you now realise mean nothing, 'thisll fix you, you'll be happy.' , 'just let God into your heart and you'll be alright.' but it's proven again and again to be utter bullshit, everything is utter bullshit. You pray over and over begging for forgiveness, begging to feel anything but this, anything but the excruciating feeling of lonliness and utter dread you feel almost constantly and nothing gets better, you don't get fixed. Maybe it's you or maybe it's the life you've lived or the choices youve made. Or maybe just maybe it's nothing at all, just randomly selected torture that truly means nothing at all. Gathering all the strength you have left you try to kick out, but these two men are bigger, stronger, and alot less doped up than you are. The drugs you're forced to take keep you weak so you wont fight back, but that doesnt stop you from atleast trying.

  Finally, you fall limp in their arms knowing what's going to come next, the worst kind of pain imaginable. One that does damage inside and out, melting your brain more and more every day. Sister Jude had caught you the previous day, or maybe week? It's so blurry you can't truly remember. But the gist is she caught you trying to cut yourself with a piece of sharp metal you had found on the floor somewhere, though now you can't completely remember the whereabouts. Stitched up and at least somewhat healed now, Sister Jude decided to resume your treatments. All you can do now is sob, and pray that it is over soon to a God that never listens.

"Please.." The guards finally strap you down, ignoring your pleas and sobs.

 After a while of silence, Sister Jude finally walks into the room followed by Dr.Arden. "Please Sister, please! I'm begging you please don't do this to me, please. I'LL BE BETTER!" you sob even harder screaming as they forcefully open your mouth to shove a mouth guard inside, your screams now muffled unable to speak.

 You look into Sister Jude's eyes with a pleading look, hoping that maybe just for once she will let you off easy with just a couple welts. Her eyes stare into yours and for a moment, just a moment, you feel that she actually feels bad. The looks in her eyes similar to yours makes you want to scream out but you stay silent knowing you won't be heard. Her mouth opens a bit, you assume to speak. But instead she jumps slightly, startled by the scratchy voice of Dr.Arden.

   "Shall we get on with it?" he sounds impatient, his expression looking eager. You shut your eyes, hot tears still running down your face. Even just hearing Dr.Arden's voice sent chills down your spine. Something about him was evil. It  was almost like he enjoyed the torture.

  "Don't worry ___ we'll get you all fixed up," Sister Jude whispers wiping the tears from your sticky face ", you need to accept God into your life fully if you truly want to get better young lady." just like that her face is serious again and the little bit of hope you had is gone. It's good to not have hope in a place like this, but it's only human nature. Dr.Arden brings the tool to your temple, and finally, the torture begins. You scream out, feeling the electricity pulse throughout your body. Until at some point everything turns black, and your mind goes silent. Maybe this is the end.

[thefrontofmymind]

i’m not sure if you still take requests, but i would absolutely love a fluff/soft matty where he comforts an overwhelmed/overstimulated reader! i’m autistic and have sensory meltdowns from time to time, and all i can think about is how matty would understand (being a neurodivergent lad himself) and how he would put his hands over my ears to block out the noise or how he’d take me out for fresh air to get away from it 🥹

ofc only if you have the time!!

- ✨

Overwhelmed (matty healy x autistic!reader)

an: i hope this lives up to what you were hoping for love!! lmk <33

You either had the option of focussing on your guilt or the too-loud music and the too-bright lights. You promised Matty you would come with him to this party, you thought you’d be able to handle it–normally you could. But maybe it was the long week you had or the fact that you had to mask all freaking day that just made it impossible.

You were trying to focus on the conversation of the circle of people around you but you couldn’t stop fading in and out of the disassociation that was forcing itself to the front of your mind.

You just kept quiet, it was getting harder and harder to breathe and you couldn’t move. You got stuck staring into the dark pool of Coca-Cola in the glass in your hand–each bubble was reminiscent of your mind, slowly rising to the top until it burst.

You couldn’t even make out what anyone was saying by that point, it was all just a blur of gibberish and indistinguishable faces. 

Right when you needed him, Matty put his hand on your forearm, squeezing just enough to get your attention–it was the one thing that kept you from going numb altogether. When you looked at him he just raised his eyebrows at you–his look of concern, the way he would always silently check in on you, especially in settings like this. You didn’t need to tell him so explicitly that you were struggling to function, the slightest shake of your head was enough for him to know right where you were.

“Time to head off, I think?” He phrased it as a question, even though he knew your answer, to help you save face in front of the group of strangers around you. You were thankful for that.

You politely bid your goodbyes as best you could while still so fragile, before Matty directed you to the front door of the swanky Beverly Hills house that had been stressing you the whole evening.

The air outside was cool and fresh, just what you needed. Matty let go of your hand once you were outside, but still close enough to your side that if you wanted contact with him again, he was right there for you. This wasn’t his first rodeo, he was used to you needing space in times like these, but he always wanted you to know he was there for you, however you needed him.

“Ice cream on the way home?” He asked as you both made it back to his car.

“I just wanna go to bed,” you answered. “Too tired.”

Matty nodded. As he turned the ignition, he was quick to turn the radio off just as the car started, but he’d let you decide if you could deal with wind coming in through the windows.

You felt so much more comfortable once you had gotten into a pair of cosy pyjamas, and slipped into your’s and Matty’s bed with fresh cotton sheets that felt so cool against your skin. 

The only thing missing was Matty, your Matty. You had to fight to keep your eyes open until he was out of the shower and in bed next to you. You never felt more calm than cuddled into his side.

“I’m sorry,” you said, breaking a long string of silence between the two of you.

“What for?” He asked.

“You know…making you leave that party early…”

“Oh, don’t apologise for that,” he scoffed. “You were just doing what you needed to do, and I’ll always be there for you when you need me.”

You couldn’t fight the smile on your face. “You’re too good to me.”

He laughed and kissed the top of your head. “Cause I love you, Baby.”

[neonpaperlanterns]

Let me unclip your wings

Chapter One: Tied Down

Summary: He found a little bird who needs some help to fly. [A/n: This work is inspired by Passing Fascination by @punks-never-die205. Also if you are not 18+ do not interact with their blog! And mine.]

[Pt 2] [Pt 3]

Is it possible to feel such overwhelming regret for something while also reminiscing about the actions that led to it?

Staring up at the ceiling it was all Wren could think about. Her brain supplied nothing but fond memories as her wrists flexed against the rope that dug into the plush bandages wrapped around her arms.

“You’re gonna thank me for this.” Wren blinked slowly at the declaration. Her gaze languidly slid from the spiraling patterns above her to stare at the other person in the room. 

“Don’t look at me like that.” There was no heat behind the demand and she continued to stare blankly. Fingers curled and uncurled stiffly as the reason for her restraints shifted uncomfortably. Wren should be much angrier than she is with the man who did this to her. Yet fondness still slithered through her veins for him.

Or maybe she was just numb. 

It was hard to tell what she was feeling being tied to the bed like this. Her thoughts swirled and mixed together into a messy knot she has yet to untangle. And he wouldn’t leave her alone to figure anything out. Siting that he couldn’t leave her alone and this was for her own safety. Which maybe was her own fault for what she did. It had been a frantic rash decision and if she could take it back she would. But maybe she wouldn’t have even done something so idiotic if he had just listened to her. 

Wren could feel pin pricks of anger stirring in her gut. Slipping her eyes closed, she took a deep breath. Focusing on the gentle sway of the ship she let it out slowly, counting back from ten. Opening her eyes again she was met with a less than satisfied gaze looking back at her.

“Why are you being like this?” He sounded exasperated. Not that he had much right to feel that way.

“You don’t have to talk to me. You can scream. Cry. Tell me to take a long walk off a short pier.” His throat bobbed as he ran a hand down his face. “Just do something.”

Wren wasn’t ready to do something yet. She had more sorting and untangling to do. Blinking owlishly she turned away. Looking back up at the ceiling she tried to find the pattern she was tracing earlier. It was gone though so she started a new one. He let out a sigh of frustration. For someone who wasn’t tied down he was acting more upset than the person that was.

“Seriously?!” The sound of wood splintering filled the room. She thinks that is the third chair he has ruined. Without looking at him she knows his teeth are bared. Lips peeled back enough to reveal his gums. Curses drip from his mouth as he channels his displeasure into his words instead of his fists. Wren thought he would have been over this by now. Had assumed he would have run out of energy at this point. She truly hadn’t thought her silence or unresponsiveness would affect him as much as it has. She had assumed he would have grown bored. Then again she has assumed a lot of things about him in the weeks she has known him. All of which have proven untrue.

Something else that was maybe her fault. She hadn’t believed him or really refused to believe him. The stories she heard, the things she witnessed just led her to assume she had understood what was going through his head. She had thought she was protecting herself, being smart and hoping for nothing. Attempting to curl in on herself reminded her of where her assumptions got her.

Bound spread eagle to a bed for her own safety.

[toolateforclarity]

Shut Up

I guess this is where I'm going to start; I am writing this for clarity. Clarity is also the word I will call my spouse, as he is what is so clarifying from what I see and hear.

At what point in life do you become so numb in your marriage that you just accept it? I mean, accept it in the way that I am too tired to deal with any back and forth.

Earlier this week it was his invitation to a TikTok poster to meet him at a "trade show." More on that to come. Two days ago and today, it's the way he speaks to me, and the second part is what I am going to give clarity on today.

We have a counter-height outlet cover that has ports in it where you can charge your devices. In front of that is a tray. On the tray are several cords for charging, all different types/ends. Well, I wanted to charge a portable battery, so I find a plug that fits into the battery on one end and then fits the outlet on the other end. The battery light comes on - task accomplished.

Minutes later I hear, "What the fuck," under his breath, but loud enough for me to hear. I ask pointedly, "What now Clarity?" "What did I do?" It was then explained to me, in the form of a stern parental tone, that I put the wrong cord end in the outlet and it could ruin the cord, or maybe it was that it would ruin the battery?

I respond in same that I will buy him a new cord or whatever I have broken. He yells , "SHUT UP!" at me. So, I shut up. I shut up for two days. And later that day when he asked me about (health), I informed him that he doesn't get to tell me to shut up and then ask about my (health).

This morning. My child (under 15) is at school, preparing to leave on a field trip. He was just dropped off. I sent my child a text letting them know they forgot an item. Clarity gets a phone call in that moment from child. I listen as child is upset they cannot access something on their tech. The email and password combo is not working. Clarity is yelling back at child and child hangs up on Clarity. I tell Clarity to just send child the information to access it. I was met with, "Just stay out of it." This has me reminiscing over the, "F-yous," and "None of your business" responses from past conversations. Oh, and also the "shut-ups."

Clarity: My son is now modeling his behavior. Clarity's inability to stop swearing and cursing about EVERYTHING has me on edge. I become anxious and defensive in those moments. I must be feeling this every single day. Every. Single. Day. It is a daily occurence when he breaths heavily and makes a sigh in anguish. A few times a week it's his cursing. Clarity's (health) has turned him into this. And by this I mean the raging shovenistic man-child stepfather that he grew up with. This version of Clarity has always been there. It's just that he can no longer hide it. And maybe, just maybe, his being has everything to do with MY health.

[mimiwrites2000]

For the AruAni writers questions:

1, 3, 4, 14!

MOON THANKS FOR THE ASK

Ok let’s start

1- share your favorite part of your latest fic

Well, my latest fic is Legends, and its latest chapter is 22

Here’s my favorite part of this chapter:

The chandelier’s crystals meandered between stairs’ white stonted rails, threateningly pointing down, accompanied with translucent, thin selenders of glass that softly clacked against each other with the softest breeze, playing a soft melody of charms, harmonizing with the contrasted fireworks going off in the distance. The fireworks exploded in the sky, their light reflected wobbling charades on the carpet, sparks of silver and gold emitting from the chandelier in various, spontaneous directions, like fairies in the books Armin’s grandfather used to read for him.

Armin watched it all.

“Can you walk?” He asked Annie, in a soft voice, careful to not disturb the lights.

“I can walk, I am walking,” She answered him, judging him with half lidded eyes. Her arm around Armin’s shoulders and her knees bent with drunkenness as she dragged herself beside Armin, or more like Armin dragging her beside himself.

He eyed the stairs, and then eyed Annie.

“I’m sorry,” he said as he bent, putting his arm behind her knees, lifting her up. She gasped, her arm around his shoulders tightened, the other arm wrapping around his neck. “I am really sorry,” he apologized again, because he held her without her permission, even though that was the only solution at that time. He made sure his hand didn’t touch her, her dress a barrier between his fingers and her skin.

He ascended the stairs, one step at a time. He held her close to his chest, making sure her weight was secured in his arms, and a spark of happiness filled his heart as her body felt healthier, remembering the first time he ever held her, at the harbor, exactly three years prior, after years of being suspended in air, engulfed within a cold crystal.

That day at the harbor he lost her but a miracle, a Legend, paved his way to her and he found her, that day they were given a second, wasted chance.

That day, he held her out of the war's rubble, in the middle of fire and thunder, her body limping against him as he carried her to safety.

That day, he learnt about a Legend, and today, another Legend unfolded itself.

None of these Legends would have happened without them, without him, without her ; she was behind it all, an irreplaceable component in that concoction.

Because they were those Legends, and those Legends were them.

They were created to be a Legend.

The striking memory made reminiscing feelings crawl on his back with hundreds of pointy, sharp edges, reaching his fingers and numbing them, so he held her even closer to his chest. He miraculously saved her that day, maybe that wouldn’t happen today, maybe it would never ever happen, but for that moment, while the world outside was launching celebratory colorful fires in the midnight sky, celebrating their deaths, he chose this moment of peace, on carpeted stairs, at a foreign hotel.

3- If you look back at your first fic compared to your last, what’s changed?

MANY THINGS, my writing style changed so much, my English got stronger as well (it’s my second language) and overall the way I write Armin and Annie changed, I feel like I never really wrote Annie correctly until recently, I don’t think I understood her enough.

4-Fanfic authors can be harsh on themselves, espically with older works, share three things you like about your first fic.

So my first fic is called Blue, but on Ao3 it’s called Kiss, (don’t ask, I have no idea how that happened either)

I wrote it in 2019, and posted it during Armin week in January 2020

This is the first time I even look back at it during these three years, and honestly it’s so hard to read something I’ve written so long ago.

I like how excited I was about it, how excited I was to share a story I wrote with people, I like how I wrote it with excitement about these characters, and I like how I always had my own way of describing feelings, which I still do until this day.

You can find it here on AO3, and here on TUMBLR

13- Do you use symbolism when writing fics? Tell us about it!

OH YEAH I DO, I add so much symbolism and descriptions and everything, especially with Legends, I basically poured every symbolism I have into this one story

I just enjoy it, SO MUCH

[darksonofsparda]

Unprompted Asks || Always Accepting

@dantes-awakening sent:

Days, weeks, months, God knows how long it's been since the portal's seal closed behind them. Dante and Vergil, now reunited under ( slightly ) better circumstances, fought what felt like never-ending hoards back to back ever since. With hardly enough time to say a word in between hoards, it delayed any actual catching up between the two, let alone any banter at all. Dante hardly had time for at least one half-assed, sarcastic quip.

The twins swung and slaughtered for what felt like forever until finally reaching a stopping point. Its duration unknown, but Dante sure as hell would take what he could get. After each twin delivered the final blow to their respective target, the two stood back to back, breathing heavily. The pressure of Vergil's back against Dante's took him back to a certain place, to the place where the two fought like this last.. Arkham's domain. Dante's breathing grew more and more silent until total hush, the recollection of such bitter memories adding to his bittersweet solace.

"Hey, Vergil," he began, looking over his shoulder to get a slightly better view of his brother, "remember when w─"

He paused, the thought immediately stomped out by a gut wrenching emotion he could not identify, his smile fading as he directed his attention frontward once again. Out of everyone in the world, despite everything that has happened, Vergil was the one who knew Dante best, the one Dante could be his true self around. Dante did an amazing job of fooling his peers, as well as himself. Smiles and jokes can only numb the memories for so long. Now, being back to back with the one person who weighed the heaviest on his mind, the man was at a loss of words. Any and all of them.

There were things to say, he felt them somewhere, calling out to him.. but what were they?

The two sons of Sparda descended further down into the depths of the demon world with one simple goal, reach the bottom circle of the underworld and sever the core Qliphoth roots, the last four roots of the demon tree that had changed the world forever, he was honestly surprised any humans survived at all. Due to the large mass of demons that fled into hiding the moment the tree fell down in the human world, but the tree wouldn't truly be destroyed until those core roots were dealt with.

If left unchecked, within a few months, the tree would regain strength and grow, at the very likely risk of repeating the same massacre all over again, and with the current state of the world as it was now -- there was no way in hell the humans would be able to survive a second attack, so they had to eliminate that threat before it could start to grow again, forever ruining Humanity's reign on the planet, an unimaginable fate and one that they never wanted to happen.

Originally, Vergil had intended to deal with the tree's core roots all by himself, he never planned for Dante to join him, it was unnecessary for his younger sibling, he didn't have to be here, yet he still persisted, a little annoying, but this was exactly Dante's latest fashion, as this time, he was the first of the two make the descent as opposed to last time, when Vergil took the fall, successfully preventing Dante from following after him, things were much different now.

It still felt a little strange to be on the same page with Dante again, but as odd as it felt, deep down inside of himself, part of him was really glad to be properly reunited with his younger brother again. after a very long history of how many times they used to clash, with their own goals, and ambitions being worn on their sleeves, the idea of them not trying to kill each other was something he would have never grasped, because he didn't think it was possible, proof that anything could happen.

Eventually, after spending who knew how long in the demon world now, the Darkslayer was able to adjust to working alongside Dante again, even playfully reminiscing about old times, bringing back fond memories of a friendly, brotherly rivalry -- better days when the magic of imagination was real, just as the freedom of being a child, before it was all taken from them. While it had taken a long time, finally the two were proper brothers again.

Finishing off the last respective demons in the more recent horde, dragging the Yamato along the side of the scabbard to remove the blood, in a flash of silver, the demons exploded into two several pieces. Once the bodies disappeared, the silence of peace and quiet between them returned. Taking a step forward, just as they continued their descent, Dante spoke, breaking the silence. Catching the start of his sentence, he's expecting another sarcastic quip about when they were children, only for silence to return not long after. Shooting a quick glance at his sibling as he looked back at him, he noticed a certain gleam of emotion in the blue eyes of his younger brother before he looked forward again, and Vergil took note of it. Dante looking all sappy? Strange.

[{ 🗡️ }] - "And here I thought I'd never find a way to shut you up."

He jokes, the sentence clearly meant in good fun, an attempt to uplift the mood a bit, but then there's a short pause, suddenly he's wanting to show at least a little bit of gratitude for Dante's insistence to come along. Vergil could have probably done this by himself, but even with his newfound power, it would take far longer than how fast the combined efforts of the two brothers, they were already six floors away from the very bottom, they were close, and he couldn't wait to end this. Quite frankly, Vergil was beginning to grow more tired of being in the demon world, especially after being here for an unknown number of months.

Taking a few steps ahead of him, Vergil stops in his tracks for a moment, prompting Dante to stop too, but only for a moment. He doesn't look his way, or make eye contact, instead chooses to stare down at the ground for a second as lips part to speak.

[{ 🗡️ }] - "Dante... You never had to come with me. I could have handled it myself.." Another pause, but this time, it's brief.

[{ 🗡️ }] - "But thank you..." Silence follows after his words, as he begins their continued descent down towards the core of the tree. Wanting to quickly change the subject due to the sudden but subtle emotions.

[{ 🗡️ }] - "The more powerful demons will be heavily guarding the Qliphoth tree roots, so once we encounter the next set of demons, keep you're guard heightened, I sense some old friends of ours too, from the previous variations of the demon world, so be sure to expect quite the welcoming party."

He warns, despite knowing his brother might already know that, he just wanted to say something, anything to make the previous moment pass, he still wasn't the best with sentimental stuff.

[anonymityisfunwriter]

Two Sides Of The Same Coin - Chapter 35: "All Too Well"

"I'm a crumpled up piece of paper lying here because I remember it all too well...."

Pairing: Sunshine!Reader x Grumpy!Bucky Barnes

Numb.

That was the only word for it.

You were numb from the very moment Fury walked you out of the Compound.

You weren't sure how things had gone so wrong overnight, but 24 hours ago, you were on the couch watching movies with Bucky's arm draped around you. And now you'd never see him again. 

You didn't even have anything to remember him by. You wonder how long he'd remain a clear picture in your memory, would his steel blue eyes fade from your recollection while the memories remained fresh in your mind? Would you remember the feeling that came in all those stolen moments? Or would you always be able to picture it? You didn't know. You didn't know anything anymore. 

You remained silent in the car as you drove away from everything and everyone you knew.

Soon you were on a small plane, flying with unfamiliar SHIELD agents and Fury as they carted you off to an unknown location. You shove your hands in your jean jacket, the one Sam bought for you your first week with him. Your first real article of clothing- You stop that thought in its tracks. You couldn't think about that because you knew if you did, you'd start crying and you weren't sure that you'd ever be able to stop.

The moment you shove your hands in your pocket, you feel an unfamiliar metal object. Flat, cool, engraved- you don't even have to look to know what they are, you'd seen them on him enough times to know what they'd feel like.

Bucky's dog tags.

You weren't sure when he'd slid those in your pocket, but the smallest smile tugs at your lips at you at being able to hold onto a piece of him.

You're only half paying attention when a hand forcefully tugs you off the plane seat. In your peripheral you see Fury scowl at the man and bark a warning, but the agent only lets up the slightest bit.

You vaguely hear someone mention that they had to check you for any personal possessions. You nod absently, keeping the metal painfully pressed against you so they wouldn't find it as they patted you down. You hear Fury reminding the agent that you weren't a prisoner and that you shouldn't be treated like one.

The frisk thankfully ended without issue. You sigh in relief, internally smiling as you'd get to keep one thing from Bucky.

Then, Fury murmured his own goodbyes, this one not so permanent, but something told you that you wouldn't be seeing him for quite some time either. Your jaw tightens as you watch him reluctantly walk away from you and you wipe away the silent tears trailing down your face.

Then another agent grabs your arm, tugging you away again.

It goes on like that for a while. A series of trade offs and unfamiliar corridors as the distance between you and anything familiar keeps increasing. No one says anything to you, offers any pleasantry, no one even asks you your name. 

Then you're lead into another corridor where a friendlier, very talkative agent greets you. She doesn't grip your arm, just gently guides you down the dimly lit concrete corridors. "You know, I've seen footage of some of your mission and I have to say, I'm a big fan. I think you-"

You offer a small smile, politely nodding along, but not quite paying attention as she recaps missions you'd actually lived. Moments you'd lived with the ones you loved most- people you'd never see again. 

"You don't have anything on you, right? I know we checked, but protocol," the agent shrugs.

You say nothing, only slightly shaking your head in worry that she'll be able to sense your lie. You needed to hold onto this, if this was all you could get you'd cling to it.

She nods, content with your answer and continues talking about your moments with the Avengers. It's clear she's well-intentioned, but the walk down memory lane feels a lot more like salt in the wound than nostalgic reminiscence.

Right up until she stops in front of an unremarkable steel door.

She scans her card, ushering you into the small room- you freeze as she walks you inside the room. The parallels make your palms sweaty, your heart race with unease- you can't help but notice: it's almost exactly the size and layout of the room from before.

“Is there any way you can leave the door open? Or can we find a bigger room?” you meekly ask, already feeling suffocated in the small briefing room. 

“Sorry,” the agent winces apologetically. “Protocol. Well, I guess you would understand that better than anyone with all that bureaucratic crap SHIELD put Wilson through the last two months with your relocation-”

“What?” you shakily exhale, the meek, polite smile on your face slowly dropping as you feel the remains of your broken heart shattering.

The agent's voice sounds distant and you've almost completely tuned out what she's saying as your mind replays her words. “I mean, he tried, but honestly the whole thing was rigged from the start. And maybe I'm not supposed to say this, but they’d really already made up their mind. The whole thing was just for appearance's sake.”

You sharply inhale, the agent unaware of the mental turmoil building in your head after she unknowingly revealed the truth. You're not even pretending to listen to the agent’s rambling as your mind pieces together the new information.

You weren’t blindsided.

Sam wasn’t blindsided.

Was Bucky blindsided? He seemed as shocked as you were, but evidently you weren’t a good judge of these things. 

Apparently, this had been a long ordeal. And you were none the wiser. 

“Anyway, someone will come by to brief you on your relocation. It was nice to meet you.”

You absently nod, staring at the wall as your mind finally allows you to think the words: he knew.

“He knew,” you whisper to yourself, your breaths quickly becoming ragged. One of your hands reaches for the wall to try to steady yourself as the room starts swirling around you, while the other flies to your chest in a futile attempt to ground yourself.

As you continue your tailspin, your masochistic, traitorous mind keeps playing it all back:

-

You wordlessly smile at Sam as he pulls up to the curb. You hesitantly open the car door as Sam ran around to the passenger side of the car. He points at the little brownstone, "At least they've got us in a nice place."

You smile, not fully understanding what he meant. He offers you another smile before nudging his head for you to follow him. You walk up the steps taking in the scenery of the bustling neighborhood. As you walk through the door with him, he says, "Welcome home."

You remember thinking that it did indeed feel like home.

-

"You really like the city, huh?"

"It's pretty."

"What, the snow?" Sam asks.

You nod, continuing to stare out the window. 

"The first snowfall is all pretty until it turns into sludge that gets in your shoes," Sam comments watching you watch the first snowfall of the winter in New York. The first snowfall you'd ever seen.

"I've never seen so many people before," you quietly marvel, watching the stone faced pedestrians tightly bundled up in their winter coats.

He smiles at your sweet, positive disposition and wide eyed gaze. "You know, you make me like the city like 100 times more. Sometimes I forget how good it can be."

-

"Ugh, I hate it down here."

"Why?" you question, your voice filled with excitement.

"Because it's nasty down here. And loud as hell."

"You mean to tell me there's a place that can take you anywhere you want in the city, at any time, and sometimes there's even people playing music for free- and you don't like it?"

"Well, when you put it like that it sounds cool as hell," he grumbles. 

"It is cool," you insist, watching the train quickly screech to a halt in front the platform.

"There's rats down here."

"Okay, a little less cool," you concede, chuckling as the two of you board the train. 

-

All those moments you thought would last forever, all gone.

And he knew the entire time. He knew you were getting sent away. How long had he known- or had this been the plan the entire time?

All your mind can think was that it was never really there, just some elaborate ruse you created because you desperately craved something you never had. That thought breaks you in a way you didn't think you could be broken anymore.

Those cracks in the foundation, no longer seemed like cracks as your final thread of sanity snaps. Those cracks now seemed insurmountable and those moments that built you, the very structure you once proudly stood on turned out to be gilded and paper thin. The moments you believed in- that you believed if you held on tightly enough could strengthen you, were all lies. It's the only thing that adds up. You fell for smoke and mirrors. 

You'd walked through hell before, but this, this was an entirely new beast. A new version of hell that you could've never imagined. 

You were simply an assignment, and he'd wiped his hands of you, just like Rumlow said he would. You were always just an assignment to him- it's the only conclusion you can come to.

And maybe if they weren't gone, they'd be able to reel you back in, to catch you before you fell headfirst into that familiar dark abyss. To tell you it wasn't true- but they weren't and all you can feel is the sharp sting of betrayal beyond any and all rational thought. 

Your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath, because now those cherished memories aren't just gone. They never really existed. 

Driving in the passenger seat with Bucky with the music blaring and all the windows rolled down.

That night on the rooftop.

All the laughs on the Quinjet.

The countless missions with Sam and Bucky. 

It wasn't real. You were never one of them. It was all a lie.

Your stomach twists painfully as tears begin spilling onto your cheeks. Maybe you'd asked for too much- maybe they were never supposed to be your family. Maybe it wasn't normal to give pieces of your heart to people that never planned on staying. And it hurts, that there might've always been a part of him that was ready to leave you behind. 

The pain starts to overwhelm your senses and paralyzes your capacity to think straight. 

You clutch the wall, desperately trying to hold yourself up. The small window in the debrief room shatters, your emotional turmoil becoming a physical manifestation of your abilities. 

“What the hell?” you hear a guard call from outside the door, obviously having heard the loud shattering. As the handle begins jostling, a large burst of air snaps the door shut before anyone can enter. Without thinking, you crush the small keypad, leaving you without a way out or anyone else a way in. 

Locked in a small room, no one left in your life- you were right back where you started. Right back at square 1. 

Sam had told you many times in your stay with him that you weren't dumb. That you were smart and capable, but in this moment, you felt so incredibly stupid. You should've seen it. Or at least seen it coming. It was always a losing game for you. You were never meant to come out unscathed.

The masterpiece was simply an illusion.

You clutch at the sides of your head, practically pulling at your hair as your legs give out beneath you. You drag yourself back to the door, silent sobs racking through your entire body as you try to plead for someone to let you out.

And suddenly it’s like you're a child again.

You bang on the door, but no words come to mind as you silently beg, plead with your entire being to be let out. But you're so far gone, you can barely hear the thumping on the other side of the door as you continue begging.

One last bang sends large cracks through the cement wall, a large indent in the metal door where you pounded your fist. 

When you do find your voice, still no words remain, just screaming wails of desperation and hurt.

The first time, the ceiling begins to concave above you.

The second time, you bring it down, not quite burying yourself with rubble, but enough that you still can’t escape. Not that you were in a state of mind to plot much of an escape.

The third time, you can hear people screaming- about the large fire starting amongst the rubble, the building coming down. You can’t hear their warnings, still lost in your tailspin. But you can feel the temperature begin to rise around you, wind swirling as you completely lose control of your faculties.

As you lose yourself.

Next Chapter

"Two Sides Of The Same Coin" Chapter List AnonymityIsFun Masterlist

[leviiattacks]

May I request a Levi x Reader angst fic? Just barely any fluff, mostly angst going on lol. The reader is a traitor, formaly working for Marley, but betraying them in secret and putting their loyalty on Paradis. The reader is also a shifter and married to Levi for a couple of years. That love and care however is gone once readers identity is found. He truly despises them, insults them, maybe a bit violent with them, and outright tells them that they mean nothing to him anymore and hate them to bits. Readers punishment is to hand over her titan to Erwin, and they agree instantly, broken over everything, believing its all their fault. Once Erwin inherits Readers titan, he breaks down and screams, crying, because Reader was innocent the whole time. They never betrayed Paradis. Never killed anyone, never harmed anyone. They finaly know why they betrayed Marley, the abuse being to much for them, enough to just leave them behind for Paradis. Just... loving and caring as they all saw them. But now the damage is done. They wont come back, they're dead, believing that they died, hated and despised, with no one to mourn their death. Everyone regrets everything.

author note :: i was thinking of leaving this in my drafts but i already wrote it and may as well post it. it didn’t end up going the way i hoped but yeah i hope it’s ok anon. anyways ANGST. ANGST, ANGST. as always i love feed back :-) ⟹ all of the headings with the years are just meant to mean it’s a different moment from that year so those moments don’t happen right after each other i hope that makes sense!! word count :: 7.2k warnings :: canon typical violence, death

845, i.

Everything is falling in place when it shouldn't.

Sun never makes itself known in Liberio yet here it is shining down onto the bustling streets. You half expect for it to crash down and burn into the hundreds of civilians going about their daily business yet nothing of the sort happens. It's typical sunlight and you curse yourself silently for your sinister thoughts.

Secretly the voice at the back of your mind still whispers frantically but you don't wish to hear what it has to say. Instead you choose to drown it out with the sound of Zeke's voice. Finally deciding to pay attention to what it is he's been droning on about for the past ten minutes.

"Soon, soon, soon." He sighs dreamily looking a little delirious.

"Soon?"

Your question catches him off guard, he lightly shoves you with his elbow scoffing in annoyance.

"Did you sit here to not even listen to me?" He turns to take a sip of whisky and the hearty gulp he chugs shows his mild irritation. You assume he's been rambling on about Marley's plan to infiltrate Paradis. You have to admit that the idea of destroying those demons from the inside is amazingly well thought out. However it's all he's been able to discuss for the entire week now and frankly you're getting a little exhausted of it.

"I zoned out..." Quietly placing your glass back down onto the wooden counter you sigh closing your eyes. It's too early to be drinking and you don't trust Zeke enough to slip into ignorance and leave yourself vulnerable. Men are to not be trusted, especially Eldian men. The thought of Eldians triggers your flight of fight response, you want to shrivel up into a cocoon and never come out until the world is rid of the monsters. The lowest of the low, the dirt in between the crevices of Marleyan soldier's boots. That is what Eldian's are.

It's ironic coming from you, your entire family labelled as undesirable Eldians yourself but you, you know you're different. An honorary Marleyan is what you will become. What you are. The treacherous imps who are but an ocean away are the true evil.

Eyes flicking to Zeke he's lighting a cigar. Old habits die hard and he's yet to quit this self destructive custom of his. You couldn't care less if he chooses to cut his lifespan short by ten years, it's his own choice to make. A disgusting cowardly choice but it's a choice fit for an untamed man like him.

The Island Devils are said to be the bad apples but you can't help but stare at your fellow citizens from time to time and wonder what it is they could be hiding. If a demon slipped through the cracks you wouldn't be surprised. Sly in nature, persuasive in tone, that is how devils go about their daily lives alone The hymns they drilled into you all the way through elementary school echo and rebound in your mind.

Locking your bitter thoughts away you have to push yourself to not punt Zeke in the mouth when he teasingly blows a puff of hot smoke into your face.

Fingertips grazing with his he freezes at the sudden contact giving you the perfect opportunity to slip his cigar away and take it in between your lips. You allow for it to linger there but you aren't foolish enough to inhale its contents.

"Zeke, my dear friend. We shall soon be met with the fruits of our own labour but I assure you that discussing Marley's plan constantly will be of no benefit for you nor I."

The day you and Zeke had met had been at warrior training camp. Zeke was a miserable, unmotivated oaf. Always tripping and falling behind the rest of the warrior cadets. You felt rather bad for him, if you were born as unskilled as him you don't know what you would have made of yourself. Zeke, the only child of his parents ironically only ever ended up rising through the ranks after handing them over to the Marleyan government. His father and mother had been conspiring an escape plan but were executed immediately alongside their fellow team members once Zeke had outted them. Unexpectedly he was spared, the fact he turned on his own parents showed where his loyalties were. To his surprise, he was even allowed to continue his training with the other warriors - only this time everyone kept an increased distance away from him. The warriors weren't informed of what he had actually done but everyone had a gut feeling. Everyone apart from you stuck with that feeling. You thought strategically, If he were to become an enemy in the future you knew being close would come at your advantage.

The day you and Zeke had met your mother died, his mother passed away the same day. At least that's what he had told you.

The two of you bonded over the little things, told each other stories about your life at home. Reminisced about what it was you missed.

Then it all came crashing down the day Zeke confessed. The day he told you he killed his mother and father by handing them over to Marley. Your knees buckled underneath you, crashing the floor he tried to grab at you but you thrashed around in retaliation kicking and screaming not understanding why he did what he did. Yes, they were traitors but they were his parents and if the monster had the nerve to turn on the people who gave birth to him who's to say he wouldn't do the same to you or to Marley.

Zeke doesn't know it but ever since then you take the opportunity to sneak the occasional glance at him. Every single time you narrow your eyes in malice. If there's a man in Liberio who you don't trust in the slightest it's him, he must think the feud between the two of you from childhood has been put at rest but it hasn't.

Zeke takes another swig of his alcohol. On this occasion he downs it entirely slamming the glass down with vigour.

"ONE MORE GLASS BARTENDER!"

846, i.

Another day of extensive training is about to end, your back is layered in uncomfortable layers of sweat and the same can be said for your forehead. Kneeling down in the under layer of the forest you're hidden waiting to strike. Going up against the elites is nerve-wracking but you're sure you can pull it off so long as you stay calm during this game of hunters against prey.

It's simple enough if you can conceal yourself and stay out of sight. The robust trees that surround you act as decent enough camouflage and your green cape paired with them lets you veil yourself, keeping you further into the foreground, blending into the environment.

No one will be able to catch you if they can't see you.

All of a sudden your previous thoughts are thrown away when you sense something in the atmosphere has changed, the hissing of the wind behind you isn't natural.

Turning to your side you don't bother to cover up the sound of leaves rustling and branches cracking, your priority is slipping away fast enough to hide again, a tug can be felt at your cloak and your reaction time barely covers for you, your gear fastens itself to a low enough tree branch and the descent is mind numbing. Your breakfast churns in your stomach but you ignore the uneasy feeling, leaping and diving wherever you find a small enough gap. You believe you can outrun your huntsman.

That is until you sneak a glance back and your muscles nearly tense up in pure astonishment, you've been kicked in the teeth just by the man's presence. Captain, Levi slinks behind you weaving through the gaps with increasing speed, he's gaining momentum and all the while his face stays relaxed, this isn't even his full effort.

Terrified you dart upwards and then left, a corner comes into view - Levi should assume you've turned into it and so you rashly choose to dart back down. Much to your hard luck you find that his senses are well adapted, the direction of the wind is enough for him to trace your whereabouts.

The pursuit resumes, and he stays disturbingly relentless.

Arm shooting to the right you think perhaps making it look like you're aiming to fly somewhere else again will completely catch him off guard, he can't expect for you to pull the same trick twice.

Setting your plan into motion your finger pulls at the trigger but you startle when the cable doesn't come out, it's jammed. Panic seeps into you and to make matters worse your gas is running out.

Without warning you're thrust into the body of a nearby tree, the bark scrapes against you and scratches begin to form anywhere you've made contact with the jagged surface, you want to admit defeat but the warrior inside of you denies Levi the pleasure of seeing you beg. In its place you deliver a harsh kick to his thigh, you're aware he's injured it and you're certain there are no rules to say you can't play dirty. Your boots hammer against leg hard enough for him to give out and let go of your body, but then you realize you lost this game from the very moment your grapple hooks broke, you have nowhere to hold onto.

Before you can even let out a shriek of horror Levi's shot back to you, he frantically accelerates and by a miracle humanity's strongest is able to grab a hold of you again. This time you don't dig your heels into his leg and you allow for him to clutch you by the torso.

Within a minute the two of you descend towards the forest floor and Levi throws you into the dirt furiously.

"You could have died. Being foolhardy will only lead to an early death." He barks as he directs his blade towards your neck.

"Am I dead yet?" Whispering back your gaze isn't trained on the blade but right up at him.

His nostrils flare up, his hair sticks to his forehead haphazardly and the knuckles that hold his pointed blades are white in tangled dissatisfaction.

Grabbing you by the hips he flings you over his shoulder choosing to not continue with the confrontation.

"I know what you're up to." His voice is still rugged from the pursuit and it takes you a split second to register what he's said.

Your eyes widen and your breath hitches in your throat, no way, there's no way in hell he knows. He's sharp but he's not a mind reader.

Your position means he can't read your face seeing as you're facing his back, instantly steeling your features you let out a breathy laugh.

"And what may that be?" Silently you pray he's worded himself ambiguously to catch a slip up.

"Being gutsy, you think that makes you a good soldier. It doesn't."

Relief floods you. He doesn't know.

"Soldiers need to be brave." Your retort makes him grumble.

"If  you die with no meaning by being reckless what's the purpose of being a soldier?" His question has you stopping and thinking on what the correct answer is.

Unable to think of an answer you ask another question.

"Are you saying your previous comrades died without meaning?"

"No. Their deaths fueled me slay more titans."

"So if I died back there who wou-" He swiftly cuts you off showing no inclination of wanting to hear what it is you have to say.

"I'll cut your tongue off if it's stupid." He clearly isn't serious about the threat but he does mean it when he warns you to not overstep.

Despite the consequences you say what's on your mind. "I just wanted to ask who would give my life meaning if I ever died. I don't have siblings and my parents died long ago."

Silence follows and the crunch of his boots against the muddy leaves tells you he probably doesn't wish to answer your question.

"Sorry-"

"I would. I would give meaning to your life." He says it with such ease you almost want to admire the enemy but you know he's said it because he feels he has to.

"You barely know me but I hope one day you can stop thinking everyone has to rely on you." You say it with taunting understanding.

Another bout of silence follows. Only this time the two of you feel warmly comforted, he doesn't understand how you've seen through his facade but it's easy for you to spot another liar.

846, ii.

Brows drawn back you observe your surroundings attempting to mask your scrutiny. The place is running amok with uncontrollable Eldian folk. The stench of unadulterated sin makes itself known but you seem to be the only person able to smell it. Eren bumps against the table you're sat at and your face twitches a little but you say nothing. You're yet to get used to these people's lack of manners.

At least that's how you force yourself to think. To be truthful, you don't quite understand what it is these people have done wrong. Ever since you've arrived you've been nitpicking at every single minor inconvenience or possible issue. A girl stole a potato and broke it into uneven pieces to share and you attempted to twist the story in your head to make her look like an unfair, greedy voracious demon but... you found yourself finding very little to actually be angry at. These people are essentially normal in every way of the word, they aren't demons and you can't help but feel yourself slip away from everything you once knew as reality. You're finding it difficult to believe what years of Marleyan education taught you, the hymns that were once drilled into your brain permanently are but a vague memory.

You feel disgustingly under-dressed and out of place, you don't belong here not when you're meant to hate these people, not when you're meant to despise them. You should be fighting the urge to shove their heads onto pitchforks or to skin them alive and feed them to pigs. Everyone back in Marley told you to control your impulses but now you're here and you've settled down even having the opportunity to converse with these individuals, share their pain, share their loss, share their suffering, you wonder why you have no impulses to control. Have they brainwashed you? Or is it that you're the real demon in this situation?

Fingers mingling with each other on your lap you sit hopelessly alone. Interacting with the so called enemy is much harder than you expect. Worry consistently bubbles in the pit of your stomach and every night is spent tossing and turning evaluating then reevaluating who the bad guy really is. At first the task of daily interaction isn't a big deal, you find it easy enough to approach members of the team and fake interest in their lives until the original plan falls through. You do become invested in your team members lives and stories that it comes to the point where you don't have to force yourself to smile at their jokes or to sympathize with their tales of grief. You become one of them and you swear you're meant to feel like a traitor but eerily you feel like you belong.

Nevertheless you try your best to stick with what you know. You're nothing like Zeke, you're loyal, capable, faithful and trustworthy. Never will you turn your back on Marley.

Rising to excuse yourself from dinner you think you've just about made it and escaped finally able to hide away in the confines of your bedroom but your lips form into a straight uncomfortable line at the feeling of someone's hand latching at your wrist. You're halfway down the hallway just a few more steps away from your bedroom. You hope it's one of the rookies.

"Oi, come here."

Head shooting backwards your eyes land on Levi, his dark curtains fall in front of his eyes - you note that he hasn't trimmed them as he usually does. Despite his size his grip is firm and your wrist squirms around a little trying to manoeuvre out of his bruising grasp. He seems to notice he's underestimated his strength once again and loosens his hold on you. Narrowed eyes analyse your anxious form, they're grey and in this lighting almost glow appearing silver. For a brief second your mouth is left ajar by the delicate but rough manner of his face.

"Everything Okay?" He doesn't typically seem to care very much about anyone, the question activates your senses and you're on full alert but the eye contact you make with him seconds later slows down the gears in your mind, they only whir and hum in anticipation completely coming to a halt.

"Yes, yes everything is okay." You're playing around with the hem of your shirt and you silently question when you were ever this nervous around anyone. You're a Marleyan soldier for heaven's sake not an unrestrained, unsupervised child left to play in a park.

Despite your clear inability to cushion and shield yourself from your Levi's stabbing gaze you attempt to appear as nonchalant as possible.

"I'll be going I just feel a little —" At first you had thought to fake you were ill but at the feeling of a sudden strike of pain you hold onto your stomach, the ache burns into your abdomen and without permission it travels higher up towards your ribs. "A little unwell." You manage to wheeze out. Hand placed onto a nearby cement wall your thought process is hasty speeding up by the second. Have they figured you out and had you poisoned? No, you barely ate anything today.

You hunch over feeling the bile crawl up your throat, on reflex you clamp your eyes shut not wishing to anger a superior by acting insolent and disposing of your dinner in the hallway. Shaky palms reach hesitantly for your lips and you force yourself to keep it in. Levi would commit a murder if you heaved and gagged letting it all out in front of him.

You motion towards the door trying to emphasize that you can handle yourself in the privacy of your room. Tears bite at the sides of your eyes and your vision is so blurred you can only make out the faint outline of the man who was just in front of you.

"Relax. I'll clean it." Your hair is brushed away from your face securely held back and you can't hold it in any longer, the acrid storm surges through your throat, you retch at the harsh sting it leaves behind. Breathing heavy, perturbed and anxious you gasp in all the air you can get.

"I knew you looked ill." His hands hold your jaw gently, the pads of his fingers are calloused but his touch remains soft. A tissue dabs at your mouth wiping away the excess untouched sick.

Just like the sick which surged through you less than a minute ago you feel something else entirely tear into you. You can't put a finger on it but it's dangerous for you to not feel contempt.

847, i.

Your heart accepts what your mind has been ignoring for months on end when Levi looks you square in the eyes after a heart wrenching expedition. The vacant look on his face is enough for the guilt to consume you whole but he doesn't know that. He doesn't know of your sins.

The wagon of corpses reeks of death and desperation. It's rotten and the smell is sickening. Forcibly you  stop yourself from feeling any more grief. The despair isn't yours to go through.

Your first ever personal loss outside of the walls and you've learnt Paradis is not home to demons. Cheeks burning in mortification you can't formulate any thoughts on your own accord, instead they continuously emerge in bursts and finally a single thought sticks out from the rest - Are you aiding in the destruction of innocent human life?

The both of you are sat on guard duty with the corpses, half of the team has been wiped out in one sweep. Your trembling hands don't seem to want to steady any time soon and you sit there with your guilty conscience strangling you slowly, your airflow is getting shallower. Shorter, quicker breaths leave you. The imaginary gash in your chest is bottomless, and your lungs push and pull in a power struggle.

Levi's coarse hands abruptly hold onto yours and the floodgates open again, he doesn't know what you've done to him, done to his soldiers, done to his people. If he knew who you really were, would things be different?

"This was out of your control."

Do you tell him?

The question sits in your mind for a while until you shake your head. He takes it the wrong way and think you're responding to him.

"This was not your fault." For the first time in months you've heard his voice crack under pressure.

"Pe- Petra she- I could have taken one for the team and died instead of her." All that remains of your dear friend is her blood soaked cloak. Her body was one of the few that had to be hauled away earlier to decrease the carriage's load.

The fabric still smells of Petra, smells of honey and chamomile and the simple soap offered at the base, but it still smells of her.

Firm hands grab your shoulders and Levi's fingers dig sorely into your flesh.

"Don't."

"But I- I didn't contribute as much as her and she has family who are alive." Hiccuping you try to bare with the fact that you'll wake up tomorrow and not see her preparing breakfast for everyone else. You know you could have propelled her out of the way just in time if you hadn't been so taken aback by the entire situation.

"You were her comrade. She made the choice to die for you."

You want to reach out, sob into his chest and yell that you regret it all, scream and tell him about the secret you've been hiding. A sorry excuse of a comrade you are to let her die on the battlefield not knowing your true identity. The tears roll down your cheeks and Levi feels his heart constrict and squeeze as he comprehends the lack of regard you have for your life. "It should have been me." Is repeated over and over again, your eyes are raw and bloodshot, the vicious wind sinks its teeth into you.

"Then die."

"If you're willing for her life to have no meaning. Die." The words he spits out are as cutting as the bitter wind. He feels cheated and you're finally able to come to your senses.

He's faired much worse but you doubt he's ever acted out the way you have in front of another person. In this never-ending void of darkness locking away the dull ache caused by deafening loss is the best choice for everyone.

Much like the night you had been sick he takes a grip of your jaw and directs your face towards his, this time he's not as gentle as before but you conclude that it's because he's drained, completely exhausted from the battle. The eyes are the windows to the soul but Levi's window panes are shattered, completely crushed by the weight of the constant burden he has to carry.

"I'm sorry." You croak out the apology. He grits his teeth because he doesn't want you to apologize but he doesn't voice out his opinion. As a substitute he presses his arms against you, the terribly raw panic is murdering you. Levi's gruff voice is a mixture of faux irritation but mutual understanding.

"Cry." He allows for your head to loll against his shoulder.

As the dark envelopes both you and him the scent of the dead only becomes more and more pungent, recalling fond memories of Petra and the others you know your heart settles on a decision before your mind does. You're a two timing back stabbing traitor for this. What you hated Zeke for you have become yourself.

Disloyal, unfaithful and fickle.

That day you place your loyalties with Paradis.

847, ii.

Levi's wiping down one of the kitchen tables, you're kneeled on the floor scrubbing vigorously. The others have already given up, panting they've left using the excuse of fetching water from a nearby well. Your back aches but you find cleaning reassuring and somewhat of a decent distraction.

"Why do you like to clean?" You're used to Levi asking you abrupt questions by now, after all the two of you have been acquainted for well over a year now. Through that year he's learnt about you and you about him. When in the midst of what looks to be humanity's final year's, twelve simple months is enough to form a bond worth a decade.

"I'm not good at a lot but I am good at cleaning."

"You know that's not true idiot." The tone of his voice indicates that your answer doesn't please him.

"But I do think I'm good at cleaning? Maybe not as good as you but I am half decent."

"Not that. You're good at much more than half the people I've ever met." He sneers, his footsteps edge towards you. "Purely being a good person is a talent these days."

You suppress a flinch because you aren't a good person at all. Neither are you that middle ground between good and bad. Rough around the edges and uneven, you're shards of glass ready to slash and hack away at him if Marley somehow lures you back.

The confession, if you could even call it that catches you by surprise and anger fills you. You almost want for him to not trust you and call out your bluff. It's a little unnatural how badly you want for him to realize the truth.

Your head turns up to stare at the man who's a few steps away from you. "Or am I just good at acting genuine?"

You don't even mean to snap at him and you don't even realize you have until you see his eyes widen and mouth part in imperceptible surprise. Biting your tongue your attention is diverted back to the wooden floor. Driving your washcloth into the crevices and dips of the floorboards you ignore Levi's leather shoes which now stand right in front of you.

"Are you questioning my judgement of character?"

Be born in Marley, That's what you had done, trained to destroy people you thought to be devilish entities, foolishly chose to grow attached to the so called enemy. Your mind lingers onto a specific thought and you're deathly afraid to be thinking it in the first place but there's no more avoiding it.

Falling deeply in love with Levi is your worst mistake to date.

"What I did. It was out of my control." you reply, voice hard.

"Not disclosing what it was?" He asks.

Your silence is his answer. Kneeling down to where you are he disarms you, the washcloth is taken out of your hands and he places it onto a table.

"You are a good person." His voice is brusque and he states it like it's a fact, something you should know. Hot tears threaten to spill over, he's stupidly naive for not rethinking that opinion of his. Lips thinned and eyes watering you don't know how to feel.

"Levi. I'm sure you'd like to think that but I am not."

"You love the members of the corps unconditionally I can see it in the way you look at them."

"Sometimes you look a little sad when you stare." The last sentence he adds in has your pulse racing. He's right, you often feel miserable thinking about how everyone would react knowing who you really are.

"I'm not interested in bad people." He sounds distant saying such warm words and it takes a moment for them to actually sink in. You don't quite believe you've heard him correctly. The dread sinks to the bottom of your stomach and the feelings you've buried at the back of your mind hit you like a tsunami. The thought of him feeling the same way for you, is agonizing.

"Stop being ridiculous." The uncertainty is killing the both of you.

"Loving you is not ridiculous, if you don't feel the same way you can say that and I'll step away. We'll be back to normal."

"No, no, no. You don't get it. You're just saying that." Your voice quivers and the intensity of this new revelation is too large for you to cope with.

"Why would, you," He begins, voice just above a whisper, "ever think that way?"

"Why would you even look twice at me?" You reply.

"Because I worry for you."

"You worry for everyone."

"I worry for you the most."

Instead of letting you respond to him this time he carries on speaking.

"We both know we feel the same."

You already knew you were in love with Levi, you didn’t need for him to tell you. You knew you were in love when you tried to memorize his facial features, you knew you were in love when his laughter was the cause of your laughter, you knew you were in love when you threw yourself in front of that abnormal for him.

That's when you begin to understand what all his signals meant. You now knew why he'd let you stare so intently, you now knew why he laughed particularly hard when it was you who had made a joke, you now knew why he scolded you and nearly broke down at the sight of your injured arm after that specific expedition.

You know it. He knows it. You both know what this will lead to.

But you still lunge onto his lap, you still press your wobbly lips against his. You still choose to surrender yourself to him and he still reacts by taking a hold of your shaky hands which lay on his chest. He envelopes them in his warm grasp. Slowly but gradually the ice thaws and dissolves. Heartbreak, anguish and suffering when one of you loses the other will be the end of your romance, you're sure of it. Hell, the both of you are in the middle of a war but your heart flames up thinking of all of the possibilities.

Perhaps it'll play out the one way you wish for it not to.

Could your ending be in betrayal?

848, i.

"Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded hus-"

"Cut the crap and kiss me." Levi's crude interruption isn't appreciated by Erwin but everyone knows Levi doesn't care all that much for formalities and hates being in the spotlight for too long.

Gripping him by the collar of his suit your lips are a centimetre away, he stops you tightening the hold he has on your waist. His lips gently press against your collarbone and his breath meanders towards the shell of your ear.

"Swear you won't die on me."

Gulping you look away apprehensively. You know you can't promise that.

“Oi, I’m expecting an answer.” His voice flickers slightly.

Forefinger holding your chin up you see your soon to be husband close to tears, he valiantly blinks them away. Levi has never been one to make his pain public and your heart twists in your chest as you realize just how much of a hold his feelings for you have over him.

"I can't promise that, you know it'll only hurt more." The strange bitter taste in your mouth won't let you comply with his request and by measuring his reaction you see his eyes cloud in an unidentifiable emotion, you're sure it's nothing positive.

"We may not have a happy ending Levi but we'll always have a happy middle."

Levi scoffs in derision, he has to think your attempt at being meaningful is ridiculous.

You lean into him and it's all so heart-wrenchingly familiar yet foreign. His body sags comprehending that not everything will go the way he wants it to. One of you is guaranteed to leave first.

Hands finding purchase in the cloth of his white dress shirt Levi doesn't cringe at you creasing the fabric as he usually does. He allows for you to call the shots this time, your lips brush faintly against his before you nosedive into him. No resistance is felt and he replies almost immediately. Everyone applauds as his fingertips press into the back of your skull and you find that this is all incredibly hideous. The innate disloyalty you feel, you throwing your entire life away for this man but you find yourself not caring. To hell with that miserable life crammed with sin.

Levi smiles against your mouth, you assume you're meant to magically smile back but you can't make yourself. It's uncomfortable relishing in the undeserved happiness knowing it won't last forever.

The world you live in isn't ideal nor is it forgiving.

Momentary joy is all an antagonist can hope for.

849, i.

Jean can’t take his eyes off the newly weds.

You’re cooing into your Levi’s ear gently, his cheeks flush scarlet at the feeling of your hot breath against his skin and he scolds you for having the gall to rile him up in public.

Jean sniggers finding some sort of odd delight from the interaction - he’s never seen the Captain this content and at ease.

849, ii.

You don't know why you've dragged yourself out of bed just to stare at your husband's face but you have, despite the toll life has had on him he seems sound for once. His breathing peaceful yours is anything but that. When it's dark the weight becomes heavier, your skin tingles and your throat burns aching for release.

Eyes blurring your hands shake reaching out for him but you can't find the courage to make contact. Nothing will ever warrant plaguing him even more with your existence.

The memories become increasingly bitter.

"If we make it out of this alive we'll have children and they'll look just like you."

"I want them to look like you." had been your reply.

Levi winced not seeming to like the idea.

"No, I want them to look like you. You're beautiful."

How wrong he was for thinking that.

You, beautiful? He'd stab himself ten times over if he knew just who exactly he had said those words to.

850, i.

Zeke had betrayed you after finding out who you were to Levi but you half expected that he would tell him the truth at some point regardless of that fact.

Tear stains travel through the mud and grime on your face, Levi's eyes are indifferent as he twists his wedding ring off his finger flinging it into the surrounding rubble.

Without your permission he yanks your arm forwards intending to take your matching ring away but you hold on digging your heels into the dirt beneath you.

"You disgusting bitch. Give me it."

You scream, high and awful, he continues jerking at your arm the muscle throbs crying out for him to stop but he doesn't and no one steps in to put a halt to any of it. Levi having had enough grabs at your neck ruthlessly. In any other circumstance he'd be labelled callous or cruel but everyone on the battle field shares a similar empathy for their Captain. Neither they or Levi had expected your disloyalty.

"I said give me the ring if you know what's good for you." His fingers slide around your neck, his seemingly low words cling onto the little respect he has left for you.

"No." Your defiance has his eyes hardening in and posture tensing. "I'm not handing it over."

Levi says nothing, he only holds onto your throat tighter, if he really keeps at  it your windpipe will be crushed in no time. You know he's holding out on purpose, he's still giving you a chance. He expects for you to stand your ground, say you never deceived Paradis, say something, anything to make him let go of you.  

"Marrying you... It just happened somehow. I know it was selfish of me." He squeezes harder. "I know it was. I'm sorry Levi." Gasping and breathless you clench and unclench your fists finding it too difficult to explain.

Your mouth opens, you want to tell him you haven't seduced him like he thinks you have, tell him you dropped that plan of yours long ago but then you falter at the last second.  It's typically hard to tell when Erwin's infuriated but it's painfully obvious when you make eye contact with him over Levi's trembling shoulders. It's enough to tell you to give up. Enough to tell you that you're beyond redemption, you've ran and hid long enough.

"Hand over your titan." Levi says nothing to Erwin's proposition, the hold he has on your neck loosens but his silence is sickening. It means he agrees.

This is fate's idea of a cruel joke.

But you agree, on the basis of one condition.

"Fine but-"

Levi cuts in, all regard for you devoid from his system.

"You're in no place to be making demands." He snarls, his patience quickly running thin.

However Erwin urges you to continue speaking taking you aback.

"If it's not too much maybe we can accommodate your final wish." Erwin had always been thoughtful in nature and you thank him for even bothering to show you a sliver of benevolence.

Everyone's looking, all eyes are on you. Some are blinking away tears, others are disgusted unable to stare at you for more than a few seconds at a time. Levi falls into the latter.

Brazen with not an ounce of shame you mention the ring again. "Let me keep it." Your left hand covers your right and underneath the flesh is the last symbol left of your union with Levi.

Whispers and murmurs orbit you, none of them are kind and Levi loses it.

His reflexes are paralyzing, he's back at it clawing your neck mercilessly but you don't scream or shriek as you did previously. You take it, you let him unload his frustration.

"Levi. Let it go for the sake of humanity." Erwin says pointedly. Irritation pricks him, he wants this over and done with and your rebelliousness doesn't look as if it'll be tamed any time soon unless you're given what you want.

Levi's face is crimson, the fresh blood from the expedition still steaming. "Y/N, I'll saw your arm off if I have to." But, you know he's already given into Erwin's orders when he throws you to the ground letting you crash and wheeze for breath.

850, ii.

Levi's been appointed to guard you for your final night alive. The room feels wistful as you think back wondering if the life you lived was respectable.

"Why did you stare at me when I slept? Did you think of killing me?" Half commanding and half pleading his voice cracks. He coughs attempting to cover it up.

You jolt not expecting the interaction at all and you're not the slightest bit surprised that he had seen you all those nights staring so deeply. He'd always been a light sleeper. You turn your head up hoping he's looking at you.

He isn't.

"I wanted our children to look like you. I think you're beautiful."

It's now his turn to recoil, only he does so in repulsion remembering the familiarity of those words. They had left his own lips not too long ago.

"I'd never have children with the likes of you." He sounds tense then.

You understand. No one would want to have children with someone as hated and as despicable as you.

"I know." You whisper faintly.

850, iii.

When Erwin's eyes glaze over unable to focus on anything in particular Levi assumes it's him growing used to the titan powers. What he doesn't expect is for his Commander to bang his head against the floor unrelenting screaming your name.

Pairs of hands move to stop him but he thrusts them aside wailing. Levi stresses trying to figure out what it is you could have done in the wake of your death.

But Erwin Smith. Courageous, brave Erwin Smith, who never cracked at loss of life for the sake of humanity, who always eloquently spoke to everyone around him at all times, finds himself slumping down to his knees and weeping for you.

The warm blood from his self inflicted assault still trickles down his nose, a tremor shakes through his entire body when he thinks of breaking the news to Levi.

The edge in Erwin’s voice grows dangerous.

"We made the wrong choice."

Erwin can't word it any better than that.

But Levi understands right away, he wishes he didn’t, he wishes he was ignorant enough not to.

Hange sticks an arm out aiming for his shoulder but he stumbles away nearly falling back into the floor not wanting to be touched by anyone.

He finds that he is not human enough to cry. It’s that or he’s not human at all without your presence.

854, i.

Levi has grown old without you, lived to see months and new seasons without you by his side. Over time his eyelids have become heavier, the corners of his mouth naturally droop and he remains perpetually somber.

Sometimes you visit him in his dreams, each time you make a silly comment about how his grey eye bags make him look like he’s been punched in the face. “Levi Ackerman, I swear if you don’t sleep soon!” You cushion the blow by whispering sweet nothings, reassuring him that you still think he’s beautiful. 

Occasionally you add in that you don’t blame him for the past, but those conversations only last for a few seconds at a time.

“I don’t blame you.” It always starts off with the exact same phrase. 

“I should have listened to you.” Levi’s tone is stern and uncompromising .

“Lev, I was never going to tell you to spare my life. You tried to listen to me, I could tell you wanted me to deny it.”

Levi refuses to answer you, he still thinks he’s at fault.

Not a day goes by where he doesn’t think of that ring. He regrets throwing it away recklessly into the rubble.

Some day he’ll return to Shiganshina to find it. The idea sounds laughable but he has to find a reason to smile as he fights for his life.

That is what Levi thinks as two set’s of jaws snap shut onto his legs, a flurry of red surrounds him. His throat constricts at the feeling of his thighs being ripped away from the rest of him.

“I tried.” He whimpers to no one in particular, eyes blank and losing meaning.

“I know Levi, I know.” The same voice from his dreams soothes him.

“Do not despair. Find me again in another world.” The biting wind adds in.

Levi’s eyelids flutter shut unable to do much else.

He’s unsure if he has the courage to face you again in another lifetime.

[hi-im-kaybee]

On the walk down, we reminisce about the times when we got our plugs embedded. I reach up and feel mine, the coolness of the metal contrasting the warmth of the surrounding flesh. The interesting thing about the surgery is the surgeons need to keep you conscious so they know they're not disrupting any essential brain functions or damaging your cognition. Lucy recounted how she had to go back and forth between doing math puzzles and reading a book for about two hours. I shot back with an anecdote about how they needed to inject a numbing agent three times in order to properly make me lose sensation so they could start. I remember feeling absolutely petrified during the ordeal - and I can still recall the tears running down my cheeks as they kept jabbing me with the needle - but it was long enough ago that we could share another laugh over it.

We joke around a little more about our times in basic, and the intersection of time where we were together. We had only spent a year collectively without each other across the four years of basic required, so we had a lot of stories to reminisce about. Like when Lucy was having trouble with managing her synchro to pilot the training drones, and how I came over to give her some pointers. Or how I got chewed out one day for spilling food all over my clothes and had to hand-wash my squad’s entire wardrobe, and how they had to go half the day and do their exercises entirely shirtless.

"Oh," I suddenly remember to ask, "How is it piloting one of those warbirds plugged up, anyway?" Her eyes light up and widen in delight. "Oh, it's wonderful! The engineers that made the systems devised a really intuitive way of controlling the craft, it's like an extension of the body. You're gonna love that too, it's really surreal." The answer didn't whet my interest. "Is there anything you can compare it to?" I asked. She scratched her head. "Well, this may sound weird, but it's like we're angels. Like we've grown wings and simply lifted off the ground of our own accord. Again, it's just… surreal, the first time." I took a moment to consider how that must feel. When I get my wings, will they feel like I'm growing them? Will they feel like they're being bolted on? Will I really like it, like she says?

We soon reach the mess hall, and I get to see most of the other crew members having their fill. The air was filled with the faint, sweet tinge of grits and soy sausage. The sodium lights cast a hazy yellow wash over the rows and rows of heads dedicated to maintenance, medical, general deckhands, officers, operations managers, and flight crews. Some of them were in their overalls. Some of them even have their helmets still affixed. The most jovial of the crowd, heartwarmingly, is the table of my soon-to-be fellow pilots all chatting and laughing in a cacophony, barely audible over the din of the rest of the hall. I’ve eaten here before, in the three or four weeks that I’ve been stationed, but I never had the confidence to eat with them. One of the girls there gives us a wave, and I wanted to duck my head and sit with the catapult launchers again, but Lucy brings a hand around my shoulder and chauffeurs us to the table.

There are six other girls, with me and Lucy making up eight total. They did a lot to ease whatever nerves were still rustling inside my overactive mind. They say they did hear what we were talking about in the observatory… There was this one girl with red hair, Haley, who was really funny. She told me a few jokes about the plane captain that almost made me spit out my milk. Another girl with black curly hair in rows on her head, Emma, told me the little things about what to expect the first time I get plugged in (like how easy it is to get vertigo so I shouldn’t get out of the chair immediately, for one). I think she’s telling me this from first-hand experience. This was actually the first group of plug pilots on the carrier, I should mention. There were no other plug pilots or even plug-capable systems installed here until two years ago. The girl with flat black hair, Sara, told me this. There were a pair of blonde twins, Niko and Laura, who wore their hair with different parts. They gossiped about a few other officers that they said had a grudge against them. And finally there was a shy girl, Angelica, who didn’t speak except to respond, with cropped silver hair. I couldn’t get a good look at her face since she was sitting at the far end of the table, on my side.

We all talk about quite a lot of things. What camp I was stationed at for basic, and who my sergeant was (Fort Talluya, south of Spokane, and Sgt. Willmeyer) . What my favorite airplane was (F/A 18F Hornet, the same one I trained on for my jet qualification). What I wanted to be when I was little (a surgeon, to help people). I had met these girls before, but only in passing, when I got to send my things to my sleeping quarters. We all share a big room, and my bed is set up right below Lucy’s. It was really nice to get to know them a little better, actually learn their names and hear their voices and jokes, realizing they’re all around my height and age and love to fly as much as I do. The clock strikes 0730 and the alarms buzz, signaling that breakfast is over and it’s time for me to calibrate my plug. The whole squad follows me and Lucy to the flight deck, then under the catapult system on the landing strip to the elevator across the main tower. I recalled when I had to fly regular jets to get my pilot license, in my last year of basic. I’ve seen the cockpits of some refurbished plug planes, the ones that still have all the switches and dials and screens and buttons. I’ve seen the insides of the made-for-plug planes too (MP planes for short). The view inside those are amazing because all the systems are beamed into your vision. They’re not even holograms, more like incredibly consistent hallucinations… or so Emma tells me.

“Are you all really coming along to see me get calibrated?” I call out to the gaggle of girls following me. When I see the calibration machine, my heartrate spikes. It’s a macabre-looking device, much like a barber’s chair but with a coil-wrapped wire at the base of the headrest, which itself was cut-out to accommodate it. My mind wandered back to the day I received the plug surgery, and I turned a little more pale and shaky than before. Lucy notices this, and grips my hand, letting me squeeze out all my anxiety. “It’s okay,” she whispers, “we’re all here for you.” I swallow my courage with a nervous gulp, and get into the chair. They tell me to lean all the way back, close my eyes, and count to ten. When I reach three, I feel a cold pinch at the back of my head. Lucy is standing right there with me, letting me hold her hand as hard as I need to. As I get to seven, I start to get a weird dripping sensation at the back of my throat, and funny whispers drill into my head. They sound like my squad mates. I say “Ten,” everything sounds like it’s so far away, and I’m instructed to open my eyes. I’m instantly taken aback at what I see.

It’s blank white. As crisp as a sheet of paper, as humbling a wide-open field during the first evening of snowfall. It’s a gentle, caring, endless little void. The chair is still here, as am I, and so are my squad mates and the plug captain. They’re all encircling me, and ask me to get up. I look at Emma. “Wasn’t I supposed to wait a minute before getting up?” Laura speaks up first. “This isn’t the real world. We’re inside your head now.” Confused, I look around behind me - the equipment is gone. I grasp at the back of my head, and my plug is missing. So, I climb out of the seat, and Lucy stretches her hand out to me once more. “Take it. It’s the last step.” Despite how comfortable it felt earlier, I get a hollow sensation of unease as I look into her eyes, then at her hand. I reach out slowly, cautiously, my fingers touch hers… And I’m awash in strange new sensations. I can feel something outside of my body, the sensation of touch like a new me has peeled off it’s dead skin and become newly sensitive. I realize that the sensations I’m getting are coming from Lucy’s body! All the other girls hold hands, daisy-chained, and with each new link a shiver is sent down my spine. I get more than tactile sensations, as well - each person makes my head a little more noisy. “Are these… your thoughts?” I ask Lucy, bewildered at all the sounds and shapes and feelings and memories and fears and everything else. I see a parent hugging me on a sandy beach. A lunch tray at a school cafeteria, with rain pouring outside. A dog at the end of a leash I’m holding, with the smell of the trees and grass filling my nose. I feel the heartbreak of getting rejected by my crush. The spongy texture of a cake at a 6th birthday party. The fires of the woods encroaching on our home. The flood waters creeping up my thighs and belly. The alcoholic stench of a large man, looming over me in bed. My mind feels like it’s going to burst at any moment…

"All My Squad Mates are In My Head"

It's 0650, and I peer out off the skydeck into the vast blue sky, an orange band running across the horizon, the world a mile below my feet.

My stomach is in a knot - it's my initiation day. The day I get my wings and plug in. I've only been this nervous one other time, for the days before I got my placement finals report back. I bunch up my shirt and wring it with my hands, transferring my sweat to the fibers. I'm supposed to be in the mess hall a few decks down but I can't fathom the idea of eating breakfast right now. The cool metal of the handrail rung supports my cheek as my feet swing off the edge, boots dancing with the air. I used to do this in school, on the playground, to relax and find some peace. But it doesn't seem to be working right now.

I hear the door behind me clamor open, and turn around to see Lucy walking towards me. She was my friend in basic, and graduated a cycle before I did, so she's been plugged in for the better part of six months. I guess my worry isn't concealed too well because she approaches and smiles warmly, crouching down beside me. I return my gaze out towards the endless expanse. "The sunrise is beautiful today, yes? Not a cloud in the sky…" She only makes small talk like this when she wants to calm me down. My eyes dart towards the back of her head as she sits down beside me. The craterous jack in her skull is eerie, but it doesn't bother me too much since I had mine put in a month or so ago. I gulp in the cool air. "How does it feel, to be…" My words are staccato, shaky, and she knows exactly what I'm gonna say as she interrupts. "Plugged in?" she coos, "Hm…"

A hand finds its way to her chin, and she tosses the words around in her mind. "It's hard to pinpoint, but it's like we're all right there, in the same cockpit. We all know where we are, what we're feeling, how hungry we are…" She pokes me playfully in the gut, as it lets out a small gurgle and forces a smile on my face. "I'll admit, even I was a little nervous the first time, but now it's just… second nature. I don't even question it anymore." My eyes find themselves locked on her face, in awe. She continues. "Can I tell you something? You have to keep it a secret from the brass, though. This is for us pilot's ears only." I look around - the rest of the deck and walkway are deserted, the only sound in my ears being the drone of the million-horsepower turbojets keeping this massive skycarrier afloat, distant yet booming. I look back to her and nod.

She gazes out again, and smiles. "We can even kind of feel each other, even without the plugs. It's weak, at first, but they tell me it grows stronger the more you're in the system. They can probably even notice that I'm telling you this, right now." The only thing that escapes my lips is a soft "Woah…" and the knots in my stomach slowly unfurl to release butterflies. After a moment of absorbing it all, I ask her further. "Did they- er, did you all agree to tell me before I got plugged in today? Can they hear me right now, through you?" Her smile radiates the warmth of a hundred sunrises, and is just as beautiful. She finds her footing and stands, extending an arm to my side. "Come on, kiddo, you're gonna want some energy for the ceremony. Trust us." I take it, feeling my weight shift off my butt and onto the heavy leather soles on my feet. I smirk in return. "I guess the gruel isn't gonna eat itself, either, huh?" We share a quiet laugh together as we lock step, across the skydeck and back into the hall.

[kurosukii]

𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞

pairing: kuroo tetsurou x f!reader

summary: your relationship is filled with nothing but teasing touches and pleasured sighs, until you tell him that you want to take it to the next level.

genre: smut, fluff, aged up au, established relationship au

warnings: 18+. virginity loss (it’s a social construct but for the sake of smut...), riding, dirty talk, fingering, face-sitting, size kink, nipple play, chest play(??), oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, praise kink, unprotected sex, finger sucking, pet names (kitten)

word count: 5.8k

author’s note: koo is the loml. that’s it. (this was the hardest for me to write so far since ✨feelings✨ are involved). this is somewhat the nsfw continuation to safety net but it can still be read alone, i just referenced some things™️. (let me know if i missed any warnings!) (MINORS DNI)

° thank you so much @kurinoot for editing <33

[5:02 PM]

“if you don’t stop tickling me, i’m going to bite you!”

you squealed as you lightheartedly threatened your boyfriend. you were trying to swat his attacks away from your neck and waist as his lean body hovered over yours, but he was just too big for you to throw him off.

“i dare you to bite me, kitten. i’ll just bite you back!” he exclaimed as he raised his head from your neck, with nimble fingers still pressing on to your sides. he laughed at your dumbfounded expression and went back to blowing raspberries on your neck and tickling the dips in your waist.

you would say that you’re tired of kuroo’s childishness, but you would only be lying to yourself. you loved how he was so carefree every time the two of you were together, and you couldn’t be more grateful that kuroo was such an attentive and doting boyfriend. sure, you had your fair share of doubts and insecurities when the two of you first started dating in high school, but it was never because of him. no, it was all you and your past inhibitions. however, kuroo never fails to squash your negative thoughts to the ground.

when you would observe him, you’d remember how the two of you confessed to each other over chemistry homework and you’d just burst out laughing at how it was such a kuroo way for your feelings to be known to each other.

when he asked what made you so happy, you’d always say you and he’d end up making a face but kiss your lips softly a few moments after. those soft kisses don’t last long because they would turn into heated makeout sessions that would leave you gasping for breath.

a few weeks into dating, kuroo admitted to you that he was planning on confessing by making a nonchalant comment here and there and leave you to nitpick what he said. he claimed that it wasn’t to ‘disrupt’ your strong friendship and ‘startle’ you, but you know him like the back of your hand—he was just as nervous as you were.

now that you’re a year or two into dating, being with him just felt so right, like all the puzzle pieces fell into place and formed the beautiful jigsaw of a relationship that you have with him. at first, you were worried that your dynamic with him would change because you weren’t just best friends anymore; you were now involved with each other romantically.

when you told kuroo about it, he would always encourage you to tell him what you were feeling. he would just flick your forehead and tell you that you have nothing to worry about and he was right.

you wouldn’t change a thing about your relationship with kuroo tetsurou, except for one thing.

you have yet to ‘consummate’ your relationship, and it it may seem crazy to others if they knew how long the two of you have been dating (not that it’s any of their business), but you haven’t reached that part of your relationship yet. 

the farthest you two have gone was oral, so you knew that it wasn’t because you didn’t find each other desirable. you used to believe the saying ‘i could eat you for hours’ was sort of an exaggeration but now you can confidently admit your mistake and say that kuroo puts that saying to shame because he has spent hours buried between your legs perfecting his oral ‘techniques’. 

more often than not, you would always find yourself begging him to stop eating your pussy because it ached and your clit felt so numb. you’ve always wondered if his jaw and tongue were made of iron steel and he would just laugh at you before diving back in, making you squirt all over his face for the nth time that day. 

you’d also return the favor, of course, but you’ve always had a difficult time fitting his entire cock in your mouth because he was not only long, he was also achingly thick. you can’t even wrap your fingers around his shaft and he would always only fit halfway through your mouth, but he didn’t care because after cumming down your throat, he’d immediately lay you on your back and devour your cunt again.

that’s why you were so fucking annoyed because you knew that you wanted to fuck each other, so what was stopping the both of you?

well, it was your stubbornness. you wanted kuroo to initiate the next step but he would always tease you. you’d think that after years of pining for you, he’d jump at the chance to fuck you, but no, he stayed a saint (if you disregard the moments he made you orgasm multiple times).

if there’s one thing you disliked about kuroo now, it was his immense self-control and penchant for teasing you, so after weeks of thinking, you decided to finally raise the white flag and surrender.

although, it wasn’t exactly a defeat because it meant that you were about to finally get your pussy fucked by your boyfriend’s big fat cock for the first time. maybe if–

“what are you thinking about, kitten?” kuroo interrupted your dirty train of thought. his usual bed hair was even messier from playing around with you and his plump lips formed into a pout because you stopped reacting to him a few minutes ago.

fuck. should i tell him? what if he thinks it’s too fast? but we’ve literally covered almost all of the bases– “nothing!” you said in a high-pitched voice, your brain short-circuiting from your ravaging thoughts. kuroo narrowed his hazel eyes at you, clearly aware that you were lying.  

“tell me, kitten. i told you that you should never hesitate to tell me what you’re feeling, right?” he raised a dark eyebrow at you. you visibly gulped as your face flushed in embarrassment. never mind the fact that this man has already seen all of you, so acting like a virginal prude seems out of bounds now. well, technically i am still a virgin so–

you were broken out of your stupor when you felt kuroo shift above you. he was hovering over your body, with long legs at either side of your hips as he rose to all fours. his large and warm hands pinned your wrists to the bed as he leaned over you until his lips were ghosting over yours. he licked his lips and you knew he did that on purpose so you could feel his tongue slightly swipe against yours.

your heart was beating fast as his clean and fresh scent invaded your senses. he smirked at you, cat eyes narrowing with a mischievous glint. he could feel your pounding heartbeat and he hoped to the heavens that you couldn’t feel his own because he was just as excited and giddy about you as you are about him.

even after going through every year and life experience together, his heart and mind would never cease to be mesmerized by you. he knew you were endgame the moment you tripped over your own feet and fell to his chest in shoujo style. your friendship practically started from him teasing you about it, and soon enough you became best friends.

now he can finally call you his and you can call him yours. although in his mind he knew that he would forever be yours, even if you didn’t end up together, but that dejected thought vanished when the both of you crossed that bridge and finally came clean with your feelings for each other. he didn’t want to admit it, but every time he’d answer a chemistry homework, he’d smile like a fool and reminisce that fateful day in high school.

because of that chemistry homework, he could enjoy kissing you freely and shamelessly. he also now has the privilege to taste your pussy with his skilled tongue, and his favorite view in the whole world is probably watching your face twist in pleasure as you pull his hair, rocking your slick cunt on his face as you chase your orgasm. he especially loved it when you would beg him to stop but your hips would still move and your eyes would be pleading for him to go on until your pussy gets numb or until you squirt all over his face.

he wanted to fuck you badly, but he was just so patient and he loved torturing himself and you. he also wanted you to take the initiative, just like how he wanted you to confess first, and it wasn’t because he wanted to be chased (he kind of likes it though) but because you called the shots in the relationship. sure, he’s the one that makes you scream his name in pleasure but that’s because you want him to. he wants to hear it from your pretty lips, and he wants to hear you say that you want him to bury himself deep inside of you.

you two spent minutes looking at each other, studying each other’s features and with hearts beating to one rhythm until kuroo closed his eyes and leaned down to bridge the small gap between your lips.

your eyes fluttered shut, sighing into the warmth of his mouth as his tongue licked your lips. he tasted like strawberries and chocolate which made his kisses ten times sweeter. his fingers from your wrists went to your hands and weaved in between them. you kissed him with fervor until your clothes felt too hot on your heated skin.

he lifted his head, teeth nibbling your lower lip as he slowly pulled away. he stole another quick kiss before he rested his forehead on yours as he breathed deeply and smiled.

“i love kissing you, kitten. now do you want to tell me what’s on your mind?” he questioned you as he nuzzled his nose against yours, breathing in your scent deeply. you inhaled a big breath before bluntly telling him what you were thinking,. and truth be told, there was no other way that kuroo would accept your request because he’s a tease like that.

“i want you to fuck me, tetsurou.”

he froze, stopping himself from rubbing on you like a cat before he stretched his lips into a devilish grin and teased you.

“yeah? do you want me to fuck you right now?” he asked you, his honey eyes becoming sharper as he licked his lips. you nodded at him and he tutted at you, squeezing your fingers.

“use your words, kitten. i want to hear you say it,” he said in his deep and smoky voice.

“yes, tetsu. i want you to fuck me right now!” you whined as you lifted your hips to grind against his tenting pants. kuroo just smirked at you, grinding directly against your core making you moan.

“stop teasing me, tetsu. i need you,” you whimpered as you exposed your neck to him. he straddled your waist as he unlaced your fingers to remove his shirt from his lean body. you were just salivating at the sight before you, his abs flexing while he raised his thick arms.

you couldn’t stop yourself from tracing the lines of his abs with the tips of your fingers as he shuddered at your light touch, with his spine tingling at your soft caresses. he removed your hands and laced his own between them as he kissed you harder this time. you moaned at the onslaught of his mouth as your teeth and tongue clashed.

he pulled away from your lips and he made a path of kisses along your jaw down to the sensitive skin of your neck. you moaned as you rolled your hips when he sucked on the skin, leaving a purple bruise. he kissed it before he went to the other side of your neck to give it the same attention.

once he was satisfied with the marks he left on your neck, he let go of your hands and slowly lifted your shirt off your body with a certain reverence. his eyes sparkled as he traced your soft skin. he’s seen you naked countless times, but he’ll never get used to how beautiful and ethereal you look and he never fails to let you know either.

“you’re so beautiful, kitten. i will never get used to seeing you, my precious jewel,” he said softly, lips tracing every patch of skin that’s exposed to him. your heart soared and your face flushed at his praise. he looked at you like you were a goddess and him, the worshipper.

“no bra, kitten? were you planning this the whole time?” he raised a dark eyebrow, with eyes trained on your hardening nipples. he licked his lips and lowered his head to suck one into his watering mouth. you moaned at the sensation, as your fingers combed through his soft hair. he didn’t neglect the other one, pinching and rolling it between his long fingers. you pushed his head lower to your chest as the both of you rubbed on each other.

he was moaning into your breast, tongue swirling over the hardened peak as he sucked and licked. your panties were pooling with wetness, aroused by kuroo’s wet and hot mouth. you cried loudly when he simultaneously pinched and bit your nipples before lifting his head and staring at the swollen skin.

his hands slowly traveled down to your hips as your breathing increased in pace. he sure does love taking his sweet time, you grumbled in your head. you felt scrutinized by him, and it made you want to cover yourself up, but the way his hands were ghosting over your skin, touching you as if you were a delicate figurine, made you feel so desired underneath him.

he didn’t even seem to mind the growing bulge in his pants, as he was too focused and enamored by your figure. you used to feel uncomfortable at his silence during intimate moments like this, but you’ve come to realize that you always render him speechless every time you lay bare before him, and that made your ego huff in pride.

he removes your shorts and panties as his hands went lower. you lifted your hips to help him and he groaned at how the wet string from your pussy seemed to follow the path of your soon-to-be discarded bottoms.

due to your longing determination to tease him in return you raised your knees until your feet were flat on the bed and spread them until you felt your lower lips separate with a squelching sound. you softly moaned at the growing wetness in your pussy.

kuroo’s plump lips were parted as he let out a low groan while he stared at his favorite meal, tongue sliding out to wet his suddenly dry mouth as he rubbed your outer thighs.

“i’ve seen your cunt tons of times but it never fails to make me speechless, kitten. your pussy is as pretty as you, fuck,” he groaned as he reached out two slender fingers to slide along your weeping slit. you clenched at the sensation, letting out a low whimper when you saw kuroo lick his fingers and released them with a pop.

you moved to widen your legs more to give him space for his broad shoulders, but before even doing so he stopped you. you were about to question him until he shushed you with a finger to your lips.

“i want to try something new. figured if we’re going to finally fuck tonight, we might as well try a few more firsts, hm?” he teased you, honey eyes glinting with mischief which made your aching body shudder. the last time he said that, you ended up cumming so much that your legs wouldn’t stop shaking for five minutes.

you raised your eyebrow at him in question before he smirked at you. your breath hitched as he leaned down to your ear. “won’t you sit on my face, kitten? ride my tongue until all your juices cover my mouth and chin?” he whispered sensually, hot breath tickling your ear as he kissed it. you moaned softly as your ears burned from the barely-there kiss.

your body is brimming with sexual frustration, blood heating up at his request. for all the times he had his mouth on you, he never really asked to switch things up and you hadn’t either. you can’t deny that your pussy tingled from the idea of him offering to be under you like that.

“what do you say kitten? think you’re up for it?” he asked you again, lips grazing the side of your ear as his smoky voice left shivers in his wake. you moaned out a yes as he kissed you, slowly this time to savor the taste of your lips before he tastes your other set.

he pulled away and gently flipped both of your bodies until he was lying flat on his back with your naked cunt directly on top of his throbbing bulge, with breasts slightly swaying at the movement. you hissed at the heat emanating from there and couldn’t stop yourself from grinding on his clothed cock.

you both moaned at the stimulation, but he stopped your hips before you could cause any more friction. “not yet, kitten. i want to eat your pussy first,” he said as he let go of your hips to place his hands behind his head, the action causing his biceps to flex which made your pussy and mouth water even more. he let out a low laugh, clearly satisfied with your reaction.

“drag your pussy up to my chest, kitten. the only time i want you to lift yourself is when you’re positioned right over my face,” he ordered you, honey eyes turning to gold as he watched your breasts heave up and down, breath quickening.

you moaned at his lewd order, hands bracing on his chest to support your weight before you dragged your wet cunt all over his torso. the position of your arms made your tits bunch together and kuroo swore he started drooling. you started moving up his body and couldn’t stop the whimpers that came out of your mouth.

fuck, i could cum just by grinding on his abs alone, you thought. the way the ridges of his abs were dragging on your clit made you lightheaded. you definitely have to try grinding on his abs until you reach your orgasm sometime soon. “next time, kitten, but not now,” kuroo groaned as he felt your wetness trail over his torso, clearly knowing what you were thinking. he’d indulge you but that wasn’t his main focus as of right now.

you were gasping and whining when you reached the top of his chest, legs weak from the unprecedented stimulation on your clit. his arms were on his sides, ready to guide your thighs on either side of his face. you lifted yourself and hovered over his face, your face flushing from the new position.

you didn’t want to completely sit on his face for fear of him suffocating so you opted to hover instead and held onto the headboard for dear life. kuroo tutted in disapproval but he let it go because either way, he was going to do what he was good at and you’d end up dropping on his face, just like he wanted.

he stared at your dripping pussy while his thumbs rubbed small circles on your thighs. his hot breaths were fanning your clenching hole as you shuddered and moaned. you could feel the ache in your thighs starting to build up from being in a squatting position but you were determined not to crush his skull.

“i’ll have you sitting on my face, kitten. hold me to that,” he promised you, voice laced with determination. that was the last thing he said before he kissed your pussy and licked a long and wet stripe from your slit to your pulsing bud.

you cried out and instinctively raised your body from the new feeling but his arms didn’t allow you to. he trapped your body in that position as he sucked your aching clit into his wet mouth. you looked into his eyes as you squeezed the headboard, breasts swaying from your sudden jerks.

“oh my god, tetsu! that’s so good!” you moaned loudly as his tongue drew figure eights around your bud. you could feel your legs starting to shake as his tongue lapped up at your clit. you swore you could feel his mouth stretch out into a smirk at your shattering resolve.

kuroo was taking his time. he wanted to see the exact moment your legs would give out and sit on his face so he could get to work. you were just being your stubborn self and he wanted to see you succumb to the pleasure he was giving you.

“keep licking my clit just like that, oh my god, yes–!” you moaned loudly, voice cracking as kuroo’s talented tongue swirled around your clit again and again. “oh yes, fuck! fuck don’t stop, don’t stop!” you whined, the words jumbling together as your legs were near giving out. you were still fighting it and kuroo decided that he was done letting you have your fun and it was time that he got down to business.

you screamed as kuroo’s mouth left your clit and plunged his tongue right into your sopping cunt, effectively making your legs crash and sit on his face. he groaned in pleasure at feeling you all over him. he ate you out with fervor, his nose rubbing your clit. your hands fell from the headboard and gripped his hair so you could grind on his tongue in your cunt.

“tetsu, fuck that’s so hot. i could feel your tongue so deep in my pussy, yesyesyes,” you threw your head back as you moaned out the last word as you rode his face. the more you rode his mouth, the louder his groans became, the more pleasure shot straight to your clit. you removed your hands from his hair and fisted the pillow on top of his head to give you more balance to ride his face.

kuroo took this opportunity to raise his arms to play with your nipples. your moans increased in volume and pitch as he tweaked and rolled the nipples in his fingers. the wet sounds of his tongue fucking your clit were making your spine tingle and body shake.

you didn’t care that you were fucking his face because your orgasm was so close. he didn’t seem to mind either because his groans increased in volume the more you used his face as a fucktoy. you raised your trembling arms to your sides as you leaned back, blissed-out face facing the ceiling as you rolled your hips around his tongue.

“i’m g-gonna cum, tetsu! fuck yes, fuck yes, i’m gonna cum, right there–!” you screamed as he pinched both of your nipples, hips moving on their own accord as you prolong your climax. you were whimpering and mumbling out nonsense as your hips slowed down, trying to catch your breath from that strong orgasm.

kuroo gently lifted you off his mouth, strings of your cum stretching out from his lips, and raised himself to lean against the headboard. he settled you on his lap over his throbbing cock as he inhaled loudly and deeply, trying to suck in as much air as he could. his swollen lips and chin were drenched in your juices. he licked as much as he could off of his face and wiped the rest with the back of his hand.

“you liked that kitten?” he asked you with a tilt to his head, midnight hair mussed up from your fingers. you scowled at him, knowing damn well you liked what he did if he made you cum that hard, he just wanted the validation.

he laughed at your reaction as he wrapped his long arms around your slightly shaking body and squeezed you. he buried his nose in your neck and nuzzled it. he was humming while planting soft kisses on the skin, teeth nipping it here and there.

how can he act like this when his cock is pulsing underneath me?

you weren’t satiated, not in the least. you wanted his cock in you and you were going to make it happen, never mind the fact that he has a monster cock. you don’t care how it’s going to happen but he’s going to fit.

you raised yourself on your knees and started pulling the string to his pants so you could free his aching cock. kuroo stopped you and you whined at him, rosy lips forming into a pout.

“i want your cock, tetsu, please. i need it to fill my pussy,” you whined at him, eyes begging for him to just put it in you. you squeezed his shoulders as you rubbed yourself on his clothed cock, your slick leaving a wet stain on his crotch. his large cock was straining against his pants, a sign that he too was burning to get inside of you.

he squeezed your hip as he tutted at you. “you need to be thoroughly prepped, kitten. i want you to be dripping everywhere before you take my cock, okay?” he said softly, warm lips meeting yours as his large fingers trailed down to reach your cunt, spreading your folds as he teased your slit with his middle finger.

you moaned into his mouth as he reached your clit, finger drawing slow circles around the aching bud while the rest of his fingers played with the wet strings that were falling out from your previous orgasm.

you moaned even louder when he inserted two thick fingers into your hole, the entrance of them making a squelching sound as your juices coated his fingers. he pumped them in and out while never leaving your lips, both of your moans mixing.

you squealed when he curled them, hitting your g-spot. he did all of that while his other hand played with your clit. your moans were being swallowed by his mouth, his tongue entwined with yours as you felt your spit mix with his.

the kiss was as messy as your pussy down there with your juices drenching his fingers. you felt his arm move faster as he pumped his fingers in and out of your weeping cunt. you pulled away from his mouth to moan into his shoulder and he took this moment to whisper in your ear.

“yeah, you really like this, huh? look how much mess you’re making, kitten. think you can take my cock after this, hm?” he asked you, tongue snaking out to lick your earlobe, his fingers scissoring inside your walls.

“yes, tetsu! i-i can take your cock, oh fuck, that feels so good!” you cried out, teeth slightly biting his shoulder.

“then cum for me,” he growled, fingers curling in that come hither motion as he pinched your clit. you screamed out your orgasm again, tears brimming in your eyes as your body shook from your second climax. kuroo softly kissed your lips as you tried to come down from your high.

he took his fingers out and brought them in between your faces while he stared at them in fascination. your cum was hanging in strings from his fingers as he placed them in his mouth and groaned at the taste. you moaned weakly watching him genuinely enjoy your juices. you watched him maintain eye contact with you while he sucked and lapped at his fingers for a minute before you started tugging on his pants again.

“eager, are we?” he teased you. you narrowed your eyes at him because he was just as eager as you. his hands were fumbling around his waistband, hips lifting so you could pull them down his legs.

your mouth watered as his thick cock bounced against his stomach. pre-cum was leaking from its swollen tip, you watched it roll down along the veins of his shaft, stopping at his balls.

he gripped it with one hand and squeezed it, groaning at the stimulation. he was so fucking long and thick that the stretch was most likely going to be uncomfortable, but you didn’t care, you’ve been so needy for his dick that you don’t care about it impaling you.

you situated yourself until you were hovering over his cockhead, lightly rubbing it against your wet slit, making the both of you moan at the new sensation.

“tell me to stop when it hurts, okay kitten? i want you to be as comfortable as possible,” he said softly, thumb slightly grazing your lips as he looked you in the eye.

“yes, tetsu,” you pecked his lips before you balanced yourself with one hand on his shoulder and gripped his cock with the other and stroked it a few times. he was breathing heavily and his hands were gently squeezing your hips.

you guided his cock at your hole and moaned when his tip entered your clenching walls. you lowered yourself onto his cock, your walls sucking him in, inch by inch.

“breathe, baby. fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned, voice straining at your heat engulfing him. you were going so slowly due to his size and also because you wanted to feel every ridge on his cock around your walls.

“you’re so big, tetsu. i could feel your cock everywhere,” you moaned long and hard, nails leaving crescent moons on his shoulders. he squeezed your hips in response, muscles tight with tension as he fought to pull you down on his lap.

you both cried out when you finally sheathed his entire cock in your pussy. the stretch felt uncomfortable but soon gave way to pleasure the more your cunt clenched and unclenched around him.

kuroo groaned at the feeling, his eyes silently begging you to move, or else he’d start jerking his hips and start drilling your pussy. you raised your trembling thighs off his lap, cunt dragging along his shaft until only his tip remained inside of you.

you mewled loudly as you dropped yourself on him, his cock making a squelching sound as he made contact with your wetness. “shit, kitten. you want my cock that much?” he moaned, lifting your hips again as he pulled you back down on his cock before he set up a rhythm. you wrapped your arms around his neck as he moved your body, moaning in his neck as the slapping of your skin on his ring in your ears.

“f-fuck t-tetsu! oh my god, your cock’s stretching my pussy–yes!” you bit your lip as you moaned from the pleasure. you raised your head to look at his face, his pink lips parted and breaths panting as he took control of your hips. your breasts were swaying with each thrust and you held on to them while kuroo groaned at your bouncing tits.

“i think about you fucking me all the time, tetsu,” you moaned breathily as you bounced up and down his cock, clit grinding against his pelvic bone. you rested your forehead on his shoulder with a loud moan as you felt every vein on his fat cock glide against your tight walls.

he threw his head back and moaned at your admission while he squeezed your hips. “yeah? tell me what you want me to do to your pussy,” he groaned, his hips thrusting up into your clenching hole. you cried, nails digging into his shoulders as his thick cock stretched you even further.

“i want you to wreck my pussy! cum in me so much that my pussy’s dripping in your cum!” you screamed as he thrust up into your cunt, cock hitting the entrance of your cervix.

“yeah? do you know how long i’ve wanted to fuck this pussy, kitten?” he growled as he flipped your bodies, with his thrusts increasing in speed now that he’s on top of you. he laced your fingers together as he delivered a hard thrust that had your pussy creaming even more around him.

“fuck, i can’t believe you’re taking all of me,” he moaned as he watched his cock disappear in your cunt. you moaned as your walls clenched even harder around him.

“your pretty little mouth can’t even fit my whole cock but your pussy is just sucking me in,” he groaned as he kissed you hard, tongue and teeth clashing against each other. his thrusts were so deep and fast that your tits were bouncing everywhere.

“f-faster t-tetsu! don’t stop please!” you begged him, legs wrapping around his waist as you closed the distance between your bodies, your hands squeezing his.

“i’m so close! oh my god yesyesyes i’m gonna cum–!” you screamed as the knot in your lower stomach uncoiled and you gushed all around him.

“your cunt is so good to me, kitten. fuck!” he moaned in your ear as he thrust one final time before his warm cum drenched your pussy. you were still moaning and whimpering when he stopped moving inside of you.

he raised his head and kissed your lips, this time with more passion. you couldn’t even move your lips with how tired you are so it was like kissing a statue, and he told you so.

“try getting fucked by a big fat cock and see if you can still move, dummy!” you breathed out. you laughed in each other’s lips, breaths mingling.

kuroo rolled over and laid down on his back, bringing you with him and laying your head down his heaving chest, where you could hear his racing heart. he smoothed out your sweaty hair and kissed the crown of your head as his thumb lazily stroked your hip. your heart was racing as fast as his while you traced small circles on his pecs. you kissed it softly and looked up at him and found that he was staring at you.

“i love you, kitten,” he said with a soft smile, honey eyes twinkling in the light of the room.

“i love you too, tetsurou,” you smiled back at him and reached up to peck his lips.

you laid your head down again and nuzzled it, eyes closing as your exhaustion finally caught up with you.

“hey, don’t fall asleep yet! i still have to clean you up!” kuroo exclaimed as he patted your cheek to keep you awake.

“ow! why did you pinch my nipple?!” kuroo pouted, whiny complaints falling from his mouth. you just laughed at him as you squeezed his cheeks in your hands.

he huffed and wrapped his arms around you, carrying you off the bed as he headed for the bathroom.

against your better judgement, round two commenced in the shower.

[7:07 PM]

[arvandus]

The Sound of Silence (18+ Aizawa x Fem!Reader)

Pairing: Aizawa x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: After once again being stood up for a date at your favorite jazz club, you decide to give up dating entirely in favor of watching and fantasizing about your favorite jazz musician, Aizawa Shouta.  You had assumed you’d never meet him face to face.  You had assumed that he didn’t even know you existed.  You’re about to learn that your assumptions are wrong.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY/NSFW; reader wears a sexy black dress (minimally described); minor sexual harassment; slow build; praise kink (if you squint); hand kink (probably); fingering; ‘baby’ petname.

Special Note:  A few days late, but here’s my contribution to the BNHarem January Collab ‘Making Beautiful Music’ posted by @kingexpl0sionmurder​​. It was supposed to be a oneshot, but this particular piece got a mind of its own and will at least have a sequel. If we’re all really lucky, it may become a multichapter series in the far and distant future, when my life is less crazy (I have ideas, ok??).  In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this fic!

Word Count: 9486

Recommended Song: No specific song at the moment, but this was what I listened to while writing this.

Lesson 1

It was crowded tonight, the air of the small club Midnight hot and heavy with the scent of cigar smoke and booze. The noise of conversations and laughing voices filled the air like the buzzing of a hive, as bodies mingled about like busy bees, each looking for their own bit of nectar.  Some looking to win romance.  Some looking to win money.  While others were simply winning by enjoying the company of friends.  Their movements were carried on the music that filled the space, upbeat jazz played by a three-person band.  It was comforting in its familiarity, developed over multiple visits – some with friends, some with coworkers, and some with potential love interests.

You sat at the bar, a drink held protectively in your hand as your eyes searched.  You checked your phone for messages but found none.  It’d been a full twenty minutes and you were pretty sure by this point that your date wasn’t going to show up.  It was supposed to be your first date in over a month, and you’d had high hopes for it - you’d clicked well with the person on your dating app (or so you thought), talking over the course of a couple of weeks before finally deciding to meet. So tonight, you’d put in a little extra effort into your appearance, donning a black dress that showed off your curves and putting careful attention into your makeup.

Damn. You were genuinely interested in this one.

You sent them a quick text in the hopes that you’d get a response.  Give them an extra ten minutes… You thought. Maybe they were caught in traffic or something.

But by the time you hit the 45-minute mark with no messages, you’d officially given up.  A half-hearted sigh fell past your painted lips. You weren’t really too surprised by this point.  You’d been having terrible luck in the dating scene for a while now.  Sometimes it was them.  Sometimes it was you.  But for whatever reason, each attempt ended in failure.

Oh well. It was likely for the best.  At least you would be able to enjoy the rest of your evening in solitude instead of enduring a potentially disastrous date.  And as for your attire, it certainly didn’t hurt to feel sexy, even if you had no one to share it with.

You loved this place. The atmosphere, the music… you’d even managed to make friends with the bartender Hizashi to the point that he’d walk you to your car on the nights that you stayed until closing.

Your eyes scanned around the room, observing.  Wooden tables littered the main floor, where small lit candles cast yellow light on observing faces, eyes trained on the musicians.  Booths lined along the far wall, filled mostly with men who puffed cigars over a game of cards, their raucous laughter carrying through the din.  Closer to the bar was an arrangement of tall, round tables with matching bar height chairs. A group of women, likely on a ladies’ night out, filled the table closest to you, taking shots and laughing, their heels perched on the rungs.  Waiters zigzagged their way through the crowd with expert precision, platters held high with drinks and snacks, while patrons milled about, waiting for an open table.

And, of course, there was the stage itself, where the jazz band finished their final piece before collecting their instruments and leaving the small stage.  All that was left from their departure was a black baby grand piano, property of the club.  Your pulse quickened as you checked your watch.  Was it that time already?

Not a moment later, there he was.  Long, black, wavy hair pulled back into a half ponytail, the hint of a 5 o’ clock shadow dusting his jawline and framing his lips.  He was dressed in simple clothes, as always… a black v-neck shirt with the sleeves pushed halfway up his forearms and dark jeans.  He entered the stage without so much a glance towards the busy room, instead making his way to the piano with his hands in his pockets. He sat down and from your position at the bar, you could barely see his long fingers arrange themselves at the keys, gently curled.

As soon as he began to play, the mood in the club shifted slightly from buzzing to relaxing.  The flow of his fingers across the keys drew a lazy melody reminiscent of rainy days and hot coffee; of snuggling under warm blankets, feet intertwined with a lover who danced their fingers across your skin, gently tickling your flesh the way his fingers tickled those keys.

Aizawa Shouta.

Of course you knew his name. The first time you’d heard him play, you’d felt weightless, your body going numb as every sensation coalesced into your chest like the forming of a star.  The question of his identity had fallen from your lips before you’d even realized it, and it had been Hizashi who’d answered you, a chuckle on his lips.

Fuck.  It felt like he was making love to you through the notes, each key meticulously selected like a carefully-worded love letter. It made your palms sweat against your glass, your breath hitching in your throat as that familiar sensation took you over, holding you hostage.

This.  This was probably why none of the people you dated ever seemed to work out.  You’d tried… God, you’d tried… some of them were nice, good people.  But you couldn’t help but search for that feeling – this feeling – each time you met someone new.  And every single time it fell short. It was an impossible standard, an invisible bar that no one was able to jump.  Deep down you knew this, yet you couldn’t figure out how to let it go. It was just music, right? Played by a handsome man who didn’t even know you existed.  But you didn’t want to let go of this feeling, to settle for someone that made you feel only an inkling of what he made you feel.  Or worse, to let it go and be left with emptiness.

You had no solutions. You were trapped in Aizawa’s maze of music, unwilling to find your way out as his notes weaved a cage around your heart.

You lost yourself to his melody, the club around you fading away.  Time lost its meaning as you watched his hands dance along the keys, his fingers nimble.  His half-lidded eyes were fixed on the instrument before him, his expression neutral.  To anyone else watching, he would look almost bored; but you’d seen him play often enough that you’d grown accustomed to reading the nuances of his body language, even across the smoky haze.  You knew his look of boredom was really a look of focus as he submerged himself in his art, his hands playing on instinct, a direct link between what he felt and what he expressed.

He loved what he did.

And you loved watching.

Hizashi’s voice interrupted your hypnosis.  “Another night solo, huh?”

You took a look at the bartender as he prepped some cocktails for some waiting patrons.  He had his wire-framed spectacles on again, the orange tinted ones, the color visible from the white backlight of the bar. His long blonde hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, and he wore a pinstriped shirt adorned with a black waistcoat.

You chuckled and took a sip of your drink. “It wasn’t supposed to be.”

“You got stood up again?” You shrugged and Hizashi shook his head slightly.  “If they ain’t willing to show up, then they ain’t worth your time.”

“Probably more like the other way around, don’t ya think?” you replied wryly.

Hizashi scoffed. “Don’t let them get to you. They don’t know what they’re missing.”

You grinned and set your glass down.  “Are you flirting with me, Hizashi?”

He grinned back and winked at you through his spectacles.  “Always, darlin’.”

You chuckled and returned your eyes to the stage. “It’s okay…” you said thoughtfully. “Maybe it’s time I stopped trying.”

“Mhm…” Hizashi watched you stare at Aizawa and he raised an eyebrow.  “Y’know, I can get you an introduction if you’d like…”

“What??”

“Don’t play coy with me, darlin’.  You know who I’m talking about.  If you want to meet him, I can introduce you to him. We’re good friends, he and I. Known each other for years.” He commented.

You weren’t surprised by this news… you’d seen Aizawa join Hizashi at the bar on rare occasions after his performance was done.  But you’d always been occupied at a table with company when it happened. 

Watching him from a distance was one thing.  But actually meeting him?  Up close? Where you couldn’t hide your girlish infatuation?

You felt your pulse quicken with dread, heat flooding your body.  “No, it’s okay.  I wouldn’t want to inconvenience him.”

Hizashi gave you a skeptical look over the rim of his glasses before he shrugged. “Suit yourself, darlin’.”

The blonde stepped away, a new group of customers hollering for his attention.  You took a large gulp of your drink hoping it would quell your nerves at the thought of meeting the man on stage.  No. You definitely didn’t want to meet him.  The last thing you needed was for your interaction with him to be a dud just like it was with all the others, destroying your own secret little fantasy. He was handsome to look at.  And you fantasized about his skilled hands when you were in the quiet of your bedroom. But that was all it was; just harmless daydreams over someone you didn’t really know or plan to get to know. Besides, if you’d ever thought you had a chance with him, you certainly wouldn’t be trying to meet people through a dating app.

Gradually the time ticked by as you enjoyed watching the dark-haired man play, Hizashi stopping in to check on you from time to time and place fresh drinks in front of you.  You were content for the time being, enjoying the steady buzz you were maintaining as you enjoyed the ambiance.  Occasionally you people watched or engaged in conversation with Hizashi when he wasn’t busy… but for the most part, you relaxed as you observed the raven-haired pianist, letting his music ease the tension in your shoulders as the alcohol warmed your bones.

A few hours later, as you were busy talking with Hizashi, the final note on the piano rang out, signaling the end of Aizawa’s shift.  The sudden silence hit you like a bucket of ice water, and your eyes darted towards the stage, your heart pumping panic through your veins.  You had planned to leave just before his shift ended, just to make sure you didn’t run into him.  Maybe it was the daydreaming, or the conversations with Hizashi, or the alcohol... but you’d lost track of time.  Now you could only watch and wait to see where he’d end up, hoping beyond hope that he’d disappear like he usually did.  Only rarely did he linger for a drink.  What were the odds, right?

Tonight was one of those rarities, and you held your breath, your posture going rigid, as he sat himself a mere two seats away from you.  He never once looked at you, instead, addressing Hizashi.

“Old Fashioned.” He requested, his voice deep.  It sent a shiver down your spine as the blood in your veins turned molten.  You knew instantly that that sound was now committed to memory.

“Do you even need to ask?” Hizashi replied with a grin as he slid the drink to him.

You disciplined your eyes to stare at your own drink as if it’d open up a portal for you to escape through. But as much as you struggled to control yourself, the simple gesture of Aizawa reaching for his drink made you break eye contact with your own. Your eyes caught how his fingers circled around his glass, long and surprisingly manicured.  You couldn’t help but watch as he brought the drink up to his lips to take a sip, and from there your gaze followed the curve of his mouth, the stubble that framed it, his jawline, his eyes…

Your eyes made contact with his briefly and you quickly looked back down at your drink, your heart pounding in your chest.

Shit.  He caught you staring.

You took a couple of deep swigs, forcing the alcohol down your tight throat, letting the burn of it act as a punishment for your violation. This. This was why you didn’t want to meet him.  No words had even been shared yet and you were already making a fool of yourself.

“Long night?” Hizashi asked him.  In the background, the next performer entered the stage and began to play, and you couldn’t help but strain your ears over the music to listen for Aizawa’s answer.

“I’ve had worse…” Aizawa replied.  “You?”

“Busy, but I’m in good company at least.” Hizashi replied.  Your heart pounded in your chest as your fingers tightened around your glass.  Your eyes darted up to lock with the bartender’s and you caught him smirking at you, his small, pointed mustache following the curve of his upper lip. 

He wouldn’t…

Suddenly another customer called for him from the other end of the bar.  “Duty calls, friend.  Be back in a sec.”

And just like that, you were left alone with him.  Aizawa. Your mind froze as it warred with itself between actually talking with him or grabbing your things and running away. Surely Hizashi would understand, right? And you could always pay back your tab later.   You took another deep gulp of alcohol in the hopes that it’d burn away some of your cowardice. 

Before you could so much as open your mouth, the unwelcome sensation of an unfamiliar hand on the curve of your back made your body go rigid, every muscle poised to fight.  A second later, the scent of hot breath laced in the stench of alcohol choked the air around you as an unfamiliar man slid into the open seat between you and the object of your affection.

“Hey there beautiful…” he slurred.  “You’ve been by yourself all night… you in need of some company?”

You covered your hand over your glass and shifted away from him slightly, your demeanor cold.  “No.”

“Aw, c’mon doll… don’t be like that…” he grinned.  “You don’t come here dressed like that for no good reason…”

The man’s hand was still on your back, its presence making your skin crawl.  It made the fog of your buzz lifting slightly, your senses suddenly heightened in the presence of a potential threat.  Your eyes searched frantically for Hizashi.  He had a way of handling drunken idiots.  But he was stuck at the other end of the bar still, a drunk woman trying desperately hard to flirt with him. 

You were on your own, and this creep clearly wasn’t taking no for an answer. Your brain started to fabricate worst-case scenarios and planning for them, a million options running through your mind.  Screaming. Throwing your drink in his face.  A well-placed kick to his shin.  Your pepper spray.

Your free hand slipped into your purse, fingers closing around you’re the plastic cylinder.  The feel of it gave you a sense of security, even if it might be a last resort.  You didn’t really want to use it, especially with Aizawa sitting behind him… you never had to use it before, and you couldn’t guarantee your accuracy, especially in such a tight space.

You watched from the corner of your eye as the man’s free hand reached forward to grasp your own that covered your drink, and your grip around the cylinder tightened, a warning beginning to fall from your lips.  But your words were cut short as the man’s hand was suddenly grabbed by familiar, long fingers and bent back at an uncomfortable angle that made the drunk cry out.

“Hey! What the hell?!” the man demanded.

Aizawa took a casual sip of his drink with his free hand while maintaining his grip on the offender, before pinning him with a dangerous glare.  “She said no.”

The man’s hand left your back as he struggled to free himself from Aizawa’s grip. “Let go!”

“First you will apologize to her.” Aizawa ordered.

The man sputtered.  “For what?!”

You watched in shock as Aizawa’s eyes narrowed.  His thumb positioned itself on a digit and began pushing it slowly backward.

“For touching her without permission.  For insinuating that her attire makes it acceptable for you to ignore her boundaries. For being a disgusting pig.”

With each statement, he pushed the finger back farther and farther, until the man was buckling to his knees under the pressure in an attempt to alleviate the pain and prevent the digit from breaking.

“Ow ow ow! Okay!  I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” The man begged.

Aizawa held him for a moment longer before finally releasing him. “Good.  Now get out.”

The man scurried away until he was out of reach before turning around to glare daggers at him.  “Hey, fuck you man!”  He shouted.  But for all of his drunken bravado, he stormed out of the club clutching his sore hand to his chest, as heads turned to watch him leave.

The hum of voices within the club fell silent for a moment, with only the band continuing their music. After the front door closed, the noise of people chattering slowly returned, countless sets of eyes turning back to their tables.  Aizawa turned his gaze back to you, the lethal look gone from his dark eyes.

“You okay?”

You nodded mutely, swallowing the dryness in your throat as your sweaty hand released the pepper spray in your purse.  Sensations warred within you, momentarily leaving you a confused mess.  The speed at which he came to your defense and his willingness to resort to violence on your behalf fueled a carnal need you didn’t even realize you had.  But even as hot arousal pooled deep in your gut, your heart still raced from the threat that had been quickly neutralized.

His eyes caught the movement of something over your shoulder and he cursed. “Shit.”

“SHOuTA!” Scolded a feminine voice.

He turned back to his drink, hunching his shoulders. “I told her not to call me that in public.” Aizawa muttered under his breath.

You spun on your stool to see the owner of the bar, Nemuri Kayama approaching, clad in a deep purple business suit with a dangerously low-cut black blouse. She was next to you in a matter of seconds, a cloud of strong perfume enveloping you as she snatched Aizawa’s drink from his hand as he began to raise it to his lips.

“What the hell was that?!” She demanded.  “What makes you think you can attack my customers like that?”

“Your customer was harassing this customer.” Aizawa pointed out.

Nemuri looked at you with her lavender eyes as if seeing you for this first time and paused in her verbal assault.

“Is this true?” She asked you.

She had a presence about her that instantly made you find your voice again.

“He was being handsy and wasn’t taking no for an answer.” You confirmed.

“Can I have my drink back now?” Aizawa asked.

She stared back and forth between the two of you for a moment before slamming the glass down in front of him, half of the contents spilling over the side. “Ugh. Fine.  But next time ask for one of my bouncers.  Or Hizashi.  Or me. Anyone but you.”

Aizawa’s mouth curled with a sly grin as he wiped at the spill with a napkin.  “And why is that?”

“Because you scare away customers.” She growled.

Aizawa stared into his drink, swirling its remaining contents.  “Well maybe you need better customers.” He took a sip.

“I’ll take whoever is willing to pay.  Unfortunately for you, this club doesn’t survive off of chivalry.”  She crossed her arms.  “Besides… it’s less about losing that drunken idiot and more about losing those who saw you almost break his hand.”

“I wasn’t going to break his hand.  I was going to break his finger.” Aizawa said.

You stifled a chuckle with a bite of your lip.

Nemuri rubbed the bridge of her nose in frustration.  “Don’t try to make it sound like that makes it any better.  And you!” She pointed at Hizashi, who had conveniently shown up not a minute before.  “You know better than to leave him alone like this!”

“I can either be a bartender or a babysitter, love.  I can’t do both.” Hizashi replied as he polished a glass.

 Nemuri grumbled under her breath before turning her gaze back to you. “I apologize for Aizawa’s violent behavior.” “Oh I didn’t mind…” you confessed with a small smile, and you could feel Aizawa’s eyes flicker to you briefly.

 “And I apologize for the inappropriate customer. Alcohol is no excuse for harassment.  I guarantee he won’t be returning to this club any time soon.” She looked at Hizashi.  “Get her a fresh drink.”  

 “Already on it…” He replied, sliding a new glass to you and removing your old one.

 She looked back at you. “And your drinks are on the house tonight.”

 “Thank you.” You replied.

 Nemuri gave a satisfied nod. “Now I need to go schmooze the rest of our frightened patrons, which is exactly how I didn’t want to spend my evening.” With a final glare at the two men, she stormed off, her pointed heels clicking on the hard floor.

 You stared at your new drink for a moment, the desire for it lost now.  “Hizashi, can I have a glass of water?”

 “Sure thing, darlin’.” Hizashi replied and placed a chilled glass in front of you.

You thanked him and took a sip followed by a long, deep breath.  Aizawa moved into the now-vacant seat next to you, and you welcomed the closeness. The gesture felt protective, a warning to anyone else who was dumb enough to try their luck with you after that display.  Noticing the closer proximity between the two of you, Hizashi quickly made himself scarce again.

“Thank you…” you said to Aizawa as your finger traced patterns into the condensation on the glass.

“It was nothing…” he replied.  There was a long silence before he spoke again.  “I hope I didn’t scare you.”

You looked at him with surprise then.  Scared? No. Aroused? Definitely.  The dampness of your panties were evidence enough of that, but he certainly didn’t need to know that.

“Not at all.” You confessed. “I actually really appreciate it.”

Aizawa’s shoulders relaxed slightly, as if a weight had been lifted.

“Where’d you learn to do that?” you asked.  “You were so fast…”

Aizawa gave a small grin. “Piano isn’t the only thing I’m good at…”

You had no difficulty believing that…

“Were you a bouncer or something at one point?” you asked curiously.

Aizawa chuckled. “Yeah, something like that…” he took a swig of his drink, the ice in it clinking.  The amber colored liquid was nearly gone now.

His response only gave you more questions, but you forced them down. There was a fine line between being curious and nosey, and you were too worried of crossing it, thus ending your conversation with him.

“You’re a regular here.” He commented.  

It wasn’t a question – it was a statement. He recognized you. You averted your eyes away in embarrassment, feeling suddenly exposed, your anonymity blown.  How long had he noticed you’d been coming here?  Did he know how closely you watched him?

“Yeah.” You confessed, as you took another sip of water. The alcohol next to it was calling to you, promising to ease your anxiety, but you refrained for the moment.  You wanted to keep your wits about you while you talked to him.

“No company tonight?” he asked.

Oh.  He watched you more closely than you ever realized. You weren’t sure whether you were feeling embarrassed or aroused.  Was it possible to feel both?

“Not this time.  I got stood up.” You replied.

“Sounds like you dodged a bullet there.” He said, looking into his empty glass.

You gave a dry laugh. “True.  I’ve dodged lots of bullets lately.”

Aizawa chuckled. “I believe it…”

Contrary to his outward aloof demeanor, he was nice.  You could feel the tension in your body start to dissipate as words came easier.

“If you ever think you want to try a dating app, don’t.” you commented. “It makes for good stories, but sometimes it really makes you want to give up on humanity.”

That earned an honest laugh as he looked at you with a grin.  “Well now you’ve piqued my curiosity.”

You couldn’t help but smile back.  This actually wasn’t so bad…

With amusement, you began to recount some of your more outlandish dating disasters with him, letting him in on the world of online dating from a woman’s perspective.  Aizawa listened with quiet interest, making the occasional wry joke or, for the more serious cases, wearing a deep frown of disapproval.  He was a good listener, and the conversation flowed easier than you had expected, words falling from your mouth without a second thought.  It felt natural.  Comfortable. And for the first time in a while, you felt like yourself.  After you ran out of stories, Aizawa offered a couple of his own, and you found yourself laughing at his own tales of dating woes. As Aizawa talked, Hizashi stopped by to quietly replace his empty drink before disappearing again, a pleased smile on his face.  His brief presence reminded you of your own glass pooling condensation on the paper coaster beneath it, and you returned to sipping its contents, once again finding the buzz you had been enjoying as you listened to Aizawa.

The time passed by as the two of you talked about the stress of dating and relationships. You’d learned that Aizawa rarely dated, but would occasionally have to endure awkward matchups thanks to Hizashi and Nemuri.  You learned how much of a private person he was, how he generally avoided dating culture entirely in favor of letting life play out on its own.  Everything about him exuded a man of experience and maturity, a man comfortable in his own skin and content with his life.  You couldn’t help but admire him as you soaked in every little detail that you’d wanted to know, committing every little bit of information he offered up to memory.  He was everything you’d imagined; kind, respectful, and serious with a sly sense of humor that he only shared once he was feeling comfortable.

Once the topic was exhausted, you sighed.  “I think I’m done with dating.” You confessed.  “I’ll just resign myself to my singlehood.”

Aizawa pinned you with a pensive look.  “Is that what you want?”

Something about the tone of his voice made your pulse race with excitement.

“Well… It’s better than being repeatedly disappointed.” You gave him a side glance as you took sip of your drink.  “But if the right guy comes along, I wouldn’t say no…”

“Hm… the right guy…” Aizawa muttered as he returned his gaze to his glass.

Your statement was a bold one, filled with invitation.  You hadn’t exactly planned for it to come out that way, but it was too late to take those words back now.  You quickly tried to turn the topic back to him.  “How about you?  Any special someone for you?”

He chuckled. “No.  No special someone.  Not yet, at least.”

The words fell from his mouth like breadcrumbs leading to a secret as he eyed you over the rim of his glass. You felt lightheaded and warm, the tips of your fingers buzzing with numbness. Maybe it was the half-finished drink in your hand.  Or maybe it was the look in Aizawa’s eyes that made you feel drunk, the Earth spinning under your feet as you mentally struggled to find some sort of purchase to keep from falling.  

Was he…?

Hope held you captive and you suddenly became acutely aware of how close you were to him.  Your eyes traced the scruff on his jawline, the stitching of his shirt, the slope of his neck as his Adam’s apple bobbed with a swallow. A stray strand of hair had come loose from his half-ponytail and was hanging over his forehead, begging to be touched. Your fingers twitched.  If you reached out to tuck it back into place, would he let you?

You couldn’t muster the courage and averted your eyes. You were filled with alcohol and infatuation, you reasoned.  Your defenses were down, your judgment potentially impaired… what if you were reading into something that wasn’t there?  What if you were wrong?  

You watched Hizashi close out a tab for an older couple as you took a sip of your water.

Warmth pressed against your forearm and looked down to see Aizawa’s arm resting against yours. All of your attention honed in on the softness of his shirtsleeve and the warmth of his skin as his hand fiddled with a paper coaster, flipping it over and over with each tap on the counter.  The contact was intentional, calculated in its subtle intimacy.  It was a silent question… a tentative invitation, absent of assumptions or expectations.  Your doubt evaporated like mist and you understood.  

He was interested.  In you.

Your heart did a somersault in your chest as you sat there, stunned.  Time froze as everything that’d transpired throughout the evening flitted through your mind.  It was a perfect amalgamation of circumstances, leading to this single moment, giving you the one thing you wanted most.  You held your breath as you stood on the precipice, uncertain if your next step would make you fall or let you fly.  

You stared at the contact and carefully… slowly… brushed your pinky along the back of his hand. It traced the vein that stood out there, following it to the knuckle. His own hand let go of the coaster his was holding, his own pinky linking with yours in affirmation.

You couldn’t help the elated smile that spread across your face in that moment and when you looked up at him with a shy glance, he had a smile of his own, small and secretive as he stared at your linked fingers.  Slowly the rest of his fingers followed, twining themselves into yours until he held your hand, his thumb brushing sensually against your skin.  That single action alone was enough to reignite the fire in your loins, your blood racing through your veins from the epicenter of his touch.

Hizashi’s voice crashed through your private, titillating moment.  “We’re closing up, lovebirds…”

Your hand pulled away from Aizawa’s on instinct as you looked around the now empty club.  Only staff remained, finalizing the last bit of cleanup and arranging the furniture for the next day.  How had it gotten so late so fast?

“You want me to walk you to your car?” Hizashi asked, a knowing grin on his face.

In all that had happened that evening, you’d forgotten about that little arrangement.  But you weren’t ready to leave just yet…

Aizawa’s voice answered before yours could.  “Leave me the keys to the place.  I’ll walk her tonight and lock up when we leave.”

“Suit yourself.” Hizashi replied with a shrug.  He placed a set of keys on the counter.  “Don’t tell Nemuri, though.  She’ll kill me.”

“Your secret’s safe with me, friend.” Aizawa replied.

With that, Hizashi gave a small salute, grabbed his coat, and left.  You watched, your heart pounding as the door closed behind him, leaving a deafening silence in its wake.

You were alone with Aizawa. Completely and utterly alone.

Your turned back to face him and froze.  Aizawa still sat on his stool, but he faced you now with an elbow propped against the counter, and that simple distinction made his presence fill your space.  He stared at you, the look in his eyes unfettered now, deep and hungry. “You really do look beautiful tonight.” He complimented.

With the way the words fell from his mouth and curled warmly into your chest like a cat, you believed him. You felt beautiful.

“Thank you.” You said with a soft smile.  “You look handsome yourself, Aizawa.”

He took your hand again and slowly began to lean forward, closing the small distance between you.  “Call me Shouta.”

You swallowed. “Shouta.” You whispered, feeling the name on your lips.

His dark pupils dilated and you felt his other hand on your jawline, warm, long fingers wrapping towards the back of your neck to pull you into a kiss.

His lips were warm and soft as his stubble tickled your skin, and you leaned into it fervently, your hands finding their home on his chest. You could feel his toned muscles beneath the black cotton and a purr found its way to the back of your throat. Shouta took it as an invitation, coming off of his barstool to stand between your now parted legs, his arm wrapping itself around your waist as his tongue slid along your lips.  You opened your mouth eagerly to taste the bourbon there, to feel the wet muscle dance and slide against your own.  Every touch, every taste, every smell enveloped you further and further in the essence that was Shouta until your entire body was singing, teetering on the edge.

Oh God… you were not going to let yourself cum just by kissing him.

You pulled out of the kiss slightly as your hands pressed gently against his chest, and he retreated from you just enough for his eyes to search your face, a silent question in them.

“I-I’m sorry, I just…” your words fell pitifully from your flushed, wet mouth, your voice shaky with pent-up arousal.

One second longer. One second longer is all it would have taken…

Shouta’s hand on your back began to rub soft, slow circles. “Would you like some water?” he asked, a small smile on his lips.

You nodded, and he kissed your forehead before handing you your glass.  You drank greedily before handing it back to him, half-empty.

“Have you ever been kissed like that?” he asked curiously, as he placed the glass back down onto the counter.

You gave a small laugh and shook your head.  “No… not like that.”

Your confession left you feeling embarrassed, even as your chest felt it would burst from this latest turn of events.

You kissed Aizawa Shouta.

Actually, he kissed you.

You needed a moment to collect yourself, to process everything you were feeling.

So, you completely changed the subject.

“How long have you been playing piano?” you asked.

Shouta didn’t miss a beat, returning to sit on his stool to give you the space you silently needed. But his hand still held yours, resting on the counter as his fingers twined with yours. It gave you a sense of reassurance, that everything was okay, despite your awkward hesitation.

“My grandpa had one when I was a kid.  Used to mess around on it.” He explained.  “He finally got me lessons from a guy he knew, and I’ve loved it ever since.”

You smiled as you watched his thumb trace across each of your fingernails.  You returned the gesture, tracing the details of his own hand. It was like living a dream, to see them up close and feel them, every fingernail, every vein, even the pads of his fingertips. The number of times you’d fantasized about these hands…

“I always wanted to learn how to play, but my family could never afford lessons.” You confessed. “But my mom used to have all of these old jazz albums, and I used to sit in my room and listen to them for hours.”

“I can teach you.”

Your fingers stopped their tracing.  “What?”

“I can teach you.” He repeated.

You shook your head.  “Um, no it’s okay… I’d probably be a terrible student anyway.”

“A student can only be as bad as the person teaching them.  Follow me.”

Before you could protest further, Shouta’s hand closed around yours and pulled you from your seat.  He led you up the steps of the stage and across it until you reached the black piano sitting forlornly in the empty space.

It felt strange being up on the stage, especially with the club being completely empty.  The stage light was bright and warm on your shoulders, and the silence sounded different there, affected by the difference in acoustics.

Shouta sat at one end of the black bench and pulled you down by your hand until you were sitting next to him.  The bench was small, meant for only one person, so you had to press yourself against him to be able to sit without feeling like you were going to fall off. Even then, it wasn’t the most comfortable arrangement, but you endured, if only to be close to him.

He released your hand and began his instruction.

“First thing you should know is how to find middle C.  Everything else will center around this.”  He pressed the white key with the thumb of his right hand, the note singing out into the empty space.  “Then, it’s D, E, F, G, A, B, which brings you back to C. That creates an octave, also known as a scale.” He played each note as he spoke.

“What about the black keys?” you asked curiously.

“Those are the half notes. Don’t worry about those right now.” He arranged his hand back how he initially had it, his thumb on the middle C key.

“Now,” he continued, “First, you must learn how to move your fingers along the keys.  Like this.”  Shouta demonstrated the motion again, his fingers playing each note slowly in a steady rhythm.  “The switch of the fingers is important. It will help you flow quickly and easily without having to watch where your hands are, which will be important for reading sheet music.”  He repeated the motion again, the sounds once again ringing out.  Then, he removed his hand.  “Your turn.”

You bit your lip and placed your hand how you’d seen his arranged and tried.  The notes were clumsy, lacking in rhythm and falling together as you forgot in your nervous haze where the switch of the fingers happened. Embarrassment flooded you and you withdrew your hand.

“Don’t expect to get it right on the first try.” He reassured.  “Let’s try it again.  Try to keep your fingers loose, curved like a bowl.”

Shouta modeled it again. You watched, but your focus was muddled with anxiety, attraction, and likely alcohol.  It was a poor recipe for learning, but you knew he was trying to make you feel comfortable, and you didn’t want to turn down his kindness.  You arranged your hand back on the keys again and tried again, with little improvement.

“I’m sorry, I…” you stuttered as you clutched your hand in your lap protectively.

His hand covered yours and you looked up at him to see him staring at you with warm patience.  “It’s okay.  If you don’t want to do this, we can stop.”

You stared at him, mouth slightly open as you thought about it.  You knew he wouldn’t hold it against you if you wanted to quit.  And sure, you felt silly being so poor at it when sitting next to someone who’s skills you idolized.

But did you really want to stop?  How often would you get an opportunity like this?

“No, it’s okay.  Keep going, I want to learn.” You replied.

Shouta watched you for a moment longer before he placed his hand back on the keys.  “Place your hand over mine.”

You followed his instructions, your hand looking small compared to his.  His skin was warm, and it calmed the shaking in your fingers.

“Watch where the fingers land.  Feel how they move.” He played the notes, and you could feel the tendons of his hand tense and shift, his fingers rising and falling like a wave.

“It’s like they’re dancing.” You said.  “You switch to your thumb on this key… E?”

“Yes.” Shouta replied in approval.  “Your turn.”

This time you focused, remembering the feel of how his hand had moved under yours as you played the keys, switching your fingers at the right time.  The improvement was noticeable.

He smiled.  “Good.  Now, for the other hand.  You’ll start one octave lower.  Can you find it?”

Your arm crossed Aizawa’s chest to press the white key, letting the sound ring out.

“Perfect.  Only this time, your pinky will sit on this key, with the others following after.”

You placed your fingers across the white keys.  “Like this?”

Shouta nodded.  “Now you’ll try the same progression with your left hand.  The middle finger will follow after the thumb plays the G note.”

You removed your hand so he could place his own and demonstrate it for you.  You followed after him, imitating his actions, but this time your attempt was worse than your first, your hand angled awkwardly due to limited space as you pressed yourself against him.

“That was terrible.” You laughed. “I can’t reach very easily.”

A small mischievous smile formed on Shouta’s lips and he slipped his hand around your waist.

“Come here.” He said.

You didn’t fight him as he pulled you into his lap.  His right hand settled itself against your stomach as his legs parted slightly to make room for yours, your knees drawn together between his.  The heat of his touch seeped through the fabric of your dress, weaving a tight knot of desire deep in your core that made your body go rigid as you tried to keep yourself from melting against him.

“Is this okay?” He asked, leaning slightly to see your face from his position behind you.

You licked your lips and swallowed, giving a nod.  “Y-Yes…” you answered shakily.  “Are you okay…? I’m not too heavy?”

Shouta gave a soft laugh. “No.  Not at all.” His breath was hot against your skin and you could feel the scratch of his stubble as he spoke, sending goosebumps over your body. “Let’s continue.”

He placed his left hand on the keys again with ease, regardless of how poor his view of the piano was with you in front of him.  He knew this instrument like the back of his hand; could probably play it with his eyes closed and never miss a note.

He played the simple notes again, C through B, fingers tip-toeing across the keys as he said their names out loud, helping you to remember them.  You watched carefully for where the shift in finger arrangement happened, the middle finger following after the thumb just as he’d described.

“You try.” He instructed, his right arm still wrapped around your waist, holding you close against him. You could feel the warmth of his chest against your back now, feel the strength of his body beneath you.

You loved this.  The lap-sitting, the lesson, the praise. Each time Shouta praised your improvements it sent a thrill through you from your head down to your toes.  To be complimented by him, even for something as simple as pressing a few keys… it only made you want to please him more.

You played the progression of notes with renewed motivation, once again showing improvement from your first attempt.

“Good.”

Your spine straightened against him slightly.  The thumb of his hand caressed your abdomen where he held you.

“Now you need to learn to do the same but in reverse, until you’re back where your fingers started.”

You moved your hand away to let him demonstrate and his right hand left your stomach, leaving an ache in its wake.  You watched both of his hands play the simple notes up and down, working together with ease. But you knew it was all a ruse… he made it look easy, but if you tried to do the same, you’d fumble clumsily.

“I don’t know about this…” you chuckled.

“It takes practice,” he replied, “until it becomes muscle memory.”

Shouta demonstrated it again, up and down.  And again.

You placed your hands over his, wanting to feel the touch of his hands under yours more than the actual pressing of the keys.  All you wanted was his arm around your waist again, his hand on your lower abdomen.  His touch was tantalizing, and you wanted more of it.  

He completed the simple scale progression two more times with your hands on top of his.

“Do you want to try?” he offered.

His hands left the keys to hold you again, his arms wrapped more tightly around you this time. You leaned against him, reveling in being held in his arms.

“I’m going to mess up.” You warned.

“Just take it slow.”

You shook your head a little and let out a small breath, shifting your position in his lap slightly as you leaned forward to focus on the keys.  His arms loosened around you, his hands shifting to your thighs.

It was likely an innocent action, intended to give you the freedom to move as you made yourself comfortable.  But as soon as the tips of his fingers touched the bare skin below the hem of your dress, that sharp zap of arousal tingled the ends of your nerves, causing you to suck in air and part your knees slightly, your walls throbbing in hopeful anticipation.

It wasn’t intentional. Your body just… reacted.  But Shouta noticed instantly.

There was silence at first, his hands still on your thighs, waiting.  Finally, he spoke.  “Y/N….” his voice was huskier now.  “How long has it been since you’ve been cared for?”

Embarrassment flooded through you.  Embarrassment at your sensitivity to his touch, embarrassment at the answer to his question... You hesitated a moment before words fell clumsily from your mouth. “I, um… a long time.”

A low hum rumbled from Shouta’s chest as his fingers brushing gently along the inside of your thighs until they dipped just beneath the black fabric. The action was experimental, a testing of the waters, and it brought immediate results.  Your thighs widened the slightest bit more as you failed to fight back a whimper, your hands grasping his arms in need.  Not a moment later you could feel the growing firmness of his cock begin to press against your backside, despite the restriction of Shouta’s jeans. Shouta’s hands halted again their movement, waiting. He was miraculously under control despite his obvious arousal, and you envied him.

“Do you want me to touch you?” he asked, his voice low.

Of course you did.  It was obvious you did.  Why else would your legs be parting like the red sea as if he were Moses?

But for some reason, your body language wasn’t enough for him.  He needed to hear it.  A sense of urgency filled you, desperate need driving you.  At this point, you’d give him whatever he wanted…

“Yes.” you begged. “Please, Shouta... Please touch me.” You leaned back against him, allowing the angle of your hips to tilt as your hands guided him further beneath the skirt of your dress.

With you draped onto him, your head tilted back, Shouta kissed the curve of your neck as his hands gently gripped the insides of your knees, pulling your legs apart until they were draped over his own.  You were open for him now, your skirt hiked halfway up by the spread of your legs.  

Your heart pounded in your chest with so much excitement that you could feel your own pulse in your neck and between your legs.  This was happening… This was really happening… How many times had you fantasized about this very thing?  How many times had you longed for this man, whispered his name on your tongue only to be met by the empty silence?  And now here he was, freeing you from the shackles of your loneliness in the best way possible.

Shouta’s hands pushed the fabric up the rest of the way until it was pooled around your hips, exposing your panties.  The thin cotton fabric did little to protect your aching cunt from the cold air, and you sucked air through your teeth at the sensation.  His fingers traced invisible lines up the inside of your thighs, leaving nothing but singing nerves in their wake that cascaded into a shiver that rolled over your flesh, leaving goosebumps.  Your body was already moving of its own volition, hips rolling, eager for Shouta’s fingers yet simultaneously attempting to grind down onto his restrained cock.  Your breaths were already coming in hot and ragged, every inch of you frantic for the release that it had been denied all evening.

Shouta gave a low growl, his left hand holding down your hip, halting your movements.  “You better stop that…” he warned.  

No doubt your girating was making things difficult for him on his end.  But you didn’t care.  You were an unfettered, horny mess now.

A whine escaped your lips at his restriction.  In response, Shouta’s left hand trailed up the length of your body, caressing over your breast before finding its home on your neck.  His palm was against your voice box now, his fingers long enough to wrap around your throat and reach your jaw.  There was no force in his hold, but it still held power over you, ushering your body into stillness while your chest heaved with heavy breaths.

“Patience.” He whispered. “Let me take care of you.”

Shouta followed up his words with more gentle kisses along your neck, your shoulder… wherever his lips could reach with you on his lap.  The feel of his hand on your throat was a reminder of who was in control.  But it was also a promise - a promise to ensure your needs would be met.

Once Shouta was sure he had your compliance, his right hand travelled the remaining distance of your inner thigh to arrive at your panties, where moist heat greeted him.

A low hum of approval rumbled in his chest, vibrating against your back.  “You’re so wet.”

A pitiful “yes” was all you could muster before the tips of his fingers brushed gently against your clothed sex, stealing your voice and replacing it with a gasp.

Slowly Shouta pet you, his fingers stroking gentle circles over the wet cotton, teasing the sensitive flesh beneath.  With his hand still on your neck, you kept your body torturously motionless as he gradually increased the pressure of his digits, reducing his speed as he passed over your clit to drag the pads of his fingers over the bundle of nerves.

You swallowed the pooling saliva in your mouth, the action causing your throat to press against his hand. “Please…” you begged. “I can’t…”

Shouta was strict, but not cruel.  He obliged, slipping his fingers beneath the cotton to swim his digits into your juices, never breaking his circular, rhythmic motion over your slick entrance.  The scent of your arousal surrounded both of you, thick and heavy.

“Fuck, Y/N…” he growled against your skin.

Two of his fingers dipped into you then, slow at first, allowing you to stretch around him as your walls quivered.  Your thighs tensed at the intrusion, welcoming the stinging pressure as your core burned with fire. He withdrew his fingers slowly and you lifted your head to watch in carnal fascination to see his fingers shining wet down to the knuckles. He pushed them into you again, curling his fingers towards the sensitive, spongey tissue along the top of your walls, his thumb pressing down on your wet clit.  A zap of stimulation fired from your core before fizzling away, a teasing warning of what was to come.

“Oh-Oh fuck…” you gasped as one hand reached back and grabbed a fistful of Shouta’s thick, dark hair.

He picked up his pace then, his thumb driving firm circles around your swollen pearl as the sounds of your wet hole being finger-fucked filled the silence of the empty stage.  With each pass of his thumb, with each curl of his fingers, the heat grew hotter, your cunt swollen and burning with the need for release.  Your thighs were tensed so tightly now that it made your legs lift and you had to brace your feet against the piano, discordant notes ringing out to join the sounds of your heavy pants and wet squelching in a lewd song. Shouta’s hand left your throat to hold you under your thigh to keep you steady as his other hand worked fast and hard to unravel you.  With the absence of his touch on your neck, you were free to move your hips, grinding hard into his hand, his lap, whatever part of him you were touching.  Your grip on his hair tightened, mirroring the tension building within you, clinging to him like the boughs of a tree knowing that any second the flood would come.

Shouta was your lifeline, your rock, your destroyer.  You were the waves and he was the shore, and your body tensed to prepare itself to crash against him.

“Come on, baby…” Shouta whispered gruffly.  “I’ve got you. Cum for me.”

You came with a cry, loud and frantic as your walls clamped down on his fingers.  The ball of heat that you had been carrying like a stone exploded within you, incinerating every nerve from the inside out, leaving nothing but sweet, sharp, euphoria in its wake.  Your walls spasmed repeatedly, sucking greedily on Shouta’s drenched fingers, as you cried and moaned, bucked and arched.  Shouta’s arm was around your waist, holding you against him to keep you from sliding off of his lap as you rode the high of your orgasm, tumbling like a waterfall over and over again to finally become a puddle in his strong arms.  

Shouta held you silently against him as your body twitched with aftershocks of pleasure.  Once your spasms subsided and he was sure you wouldn’t fall from your perch, Shouta released his hold around your waist to draw his fingers up and down your arm, creating goosebumps under his gentle touch.  His fingers were still in you, his hand cupped between your legs.  The warmth of his touch on your tired cunt was comforting, and it brought forth a content moan from your parted lips.  Shouta smiled as he planted another kiss on your shoulder.

You weren’t sure how long you stayed like that with him.  But you finally made yourself sit up when you felt sleep starting to drag you down into its murky depths, your limbs feeling heavy.

Finally, Shouta spoke. “Better?” he asked.

You gave a laugh.  “Much.”  You looked down at yourself in amusement. “You made a mess of me, though…”

Shouta gave a satisfied hum and stared at his hand that held you.  “I like you messy.” He stated.

“So, you’re just gonna leave me like this?” you teased.

He laughed and withdrew his fingers, wiping the slick coating them onto his jeans.  “As much as I like that idea, no.”  He adjusted your ruined underwear and the hem of your dress back into place before turning you around in his lap.  His hands were planted on your rear, keeping you securely and comfortably in place.  “It’s late. We should get you home.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him.  “What about you?” you asked, your eyes glancing down to his lap. Your hands began to trail down his chest to reach the button of his pants, eager to reciprocate.

Shouta smiled at you and grabbed your hands, bringing them back up to plant kisses on your palms.  “Tonight was about you. There’ll be more opportunities for both of us later.”  You pouted and he chuckled. “Don’t give me that face.”

“It hardly seems fair…” you muttered.  You were looking forward to enjoying more of him… you didn’t want tonight to end.

He hummed as he began to trail kisses along your jawline and you arched your neck to allow him better access.  “We both… need sleep.”

Sleep? With his mouth on your skin, sleep was the last thing on your mind.  Shouta pulled his lips away to look into your eyes again and you could see the fatigue there, dark circles framing bloodshot eyes.  He really did look incredibly tired, and you couldn’t help but wonder how late it really was.  You brushed the errant strand of hair off of his forehead, tucking it behind his ear.

“Okay...” you softly agreed.

“You should come back tomorrow night.” He mused, the mischief back in his eyes. “We can continue our piano lessons.”

“I’d like that.” you smiled.

 You couldn’t wait.

[lavendermin]

if all stars fell at once (1) | xiao

pairing | xiao/reader

word count | 3k

genre | fluff, light angst, developing relationship, overall domestic

warning | eventual smut

The memory comes clear as the crystalline waters at the harbor. That day when rain poured mercilessly upon the land— the boy in a mask whose body trembled under an invisible burden. You remember the dark splotches on his body being washed away by downpour.

Blood.

Polearm supporting his body as it heaved, his face slowly turned to face you as an ominous dark mist accumulated around him. And when you blinked, it was as if he was never there; replaced by rain.

Whether it was the haze of sleepless nights getting to you or reality, you still had yet to know. Curiosity was fresh in your mind. His presence… though brief, held immense power and a tainted aura; enough to instill fear in the hearts of any who witnessed them. But you stood there, unwavering and eyes alight with awe and curiosity despite the rain that hailed mercilessly around you.

Weeks continued, and the image of the boy remained somewhere in your subconscious. Days came and went as your mind remained hazed, clouded with the fleeting memory.

The dark clouds overhead brought in strong winds; a sign of a storm rolling in. The laundry hanging outside would surely be swept away at this rate. Quick on your feet, you hurriedly pulled them off the clotheslines. Yet despite your efforts, a couple handkerchiefs you had embroidered were blown away by a harsh gust of wind.

“Ah…!” Despite your attempt, the wind plucked them out of reach. All you could do was helplessly watch as they were carried by devious winds further down the mountain.

Those were for… Ah, I guess I’ll have to redo those, you pondered anxiously. If they were all to be delivered in 3 days, you would have to stay up fairly late just to finish replacing them.

The candle light cracked and flickered as night crept over Liyue. No use stalling. With a sullen crack of your neck, you shut the windows and got to work. The relentless rain was your sole company as you worked through embroidering the replacements well into the night. Despite the nimbleness of experienced hands, numbness settled in after hours of working tirelessly to replace the delicately embroidered handkerchiefs. And with patterns and threads so intricate, they weren’t something you could rush.

The moon came and went that night, having accompanied you behind the storming clouds as it rained and ceased. Yet, late the next day when you returned from running errands, there upon your open windowsill were two neatly folded handkerchiefs safely held in place by a beautiful stone. You examined them— with no doubt, the ones that were swept away.

And as a breeze picked up once more, you didn’t dare look back but hoped the wind would carry your words to the deserving.

“Thank you.”

:

.

.

That was the first time in over a millennia that Xiao was thanked by a mortal for one of his many silent deeds.

———

Soft colors of fading blue and powdery orange iced the sky with the setting sun. You reminisced past memories fondly as you picked a few herbs from your personal garden. The day was slowly dwindling to a lethargic end, but the land ceased to fall into rest to savor most of what the day had to offer.

“Do you remember that, Adeptus Xiao?” you asked with a fond smile. It was met with silence for a moment before a voice spoke up from the roof of your house.

“So, you knew I was here. Mortals truly are something I cannot understand,” he clicked his tongue, shifting to get comfortable where he rested comfortably on your roof. “Or perhaps, it’s that our ties are too strong. Curious…” He pondered to himself, brows slightly furrowed as he contemplated.

With a stretch of your back you stood up, basket in hand. “I know my grandmother’s home is rather quiet here in Qingce Village, so I’ve noticed the roof has become a favorite spot of yours,” you observed with a small shrug he couldn’t see. “Call it a hunch.”

Though he wouldn’t admit it, Xiao knew your guess was right. With your home tucked furthest away at the top of the village, there were seldom any onlookers in the tranquil area. A perfect, stress-free corner for him to visit.

With a huff and trained grace, he hopped off the roof on playful winds and followed you indoors. There was still a cautious air about him but never the same as when you first met him all those months ago.

It seemed like you understood him more than he understood you sometimes, and it puzzled him to no end. Mortals were usually more predictable; working in routine and habits as he had seen of the many centuries that passed. Or… at least he thought. It was no secret that he found mortals to be indecipherable.

In the small kitchen, he was presented with an enticing dish that you laid out; his favorite, no doubt. “Here. I’m heading out to the harbor to run some last minute errands, but you’re welcome to stay here as long as you’d like,” you reassured him with a smile. “Thank you for keeping me company today.”

At your genuine, radiant smile, Xiao couldn’t help but avert his gaze shyly. Truthfully, it always caught him off guard to be thanked for such trivial things that were somehow meaningful to you.

Before you reached the front door, Xiao called out after you. “If you are out late, summon me— call my name. I will guide you safely home.” With firm reassurance, he held your gaze under piercing amber. “Promise me this. Do not be reckless.”

There was no fighting the grin that lit up your face. “You worry for me, Adeptus?” you teasingly prodded, and placed a quick peck on his cheek. “How unexpectedly cute of you.”

At the gesture, his eyes widened for a fraction of a second before his composure returned. Pensively, he folded his arms across his chest, and you swore he could practically be pouting.

“The safety of Liyue is my duty as an adeptus. As a tool to be used, and nothing more.”

There was a brief sorrow reflected in your eyes, and before Xiao had a chance to address it, you were hurriedly giving your final goodbyes with your usual warm energy.

“I promise I’ll be safe.”

Left to himself, he accepted your gifted offering of almond tofu. I love the way your eyes practically sparkle when you take that first bite, you once teased.

The memory picked up the thrumming in his chest— uncertainty accompanied by rose-dusted cheeks.

With each delicate bite, his mind upheld more questions. The feelings that burst subtly in his chest— what were they? He searched his heart for answers to describe it. Peace of mind? Loneliness?

As many times as his mind decided to go through the same painful cycle of thoughts, ultimately he was left with more questions than when he started. There were no answers within him.

Such as the moon replaces the sun and the days dwindle into night, he too would let it be for now.

And as the sun slowly retreated more and more behind mountains and thin clouds, Xiao couldn’t help but wonder why he continued to keep near you. A tie foraged with a mortal that strangely did not instill the overwhelming need to leave.

Even the room he was in caused no discomfort or suffocation. The cycle started once again as he wondered, why? He often resided at Wangshu Inn, but never in a room. The rooftop high above any wandering souls was his claimed accommodation. The balcony just below that was seldom used by guests was the only other space he occupied there— eyes able to survey the land from a higher vantage point.

However, here in this small shelter you called home there was none of that, yet he stayed. Curiously, his eyes wandered the room to take in the oddities and trinkets that were used as decorum. The bookshelf across the room posed with great importance, and as he approached it he took in the vast collection of books and small items that decorated some empty sections.

Gloved fingers grazed over the elegant, gold-foil titles of some of the books. Some he has partially read before, or listened to you read aloud while he rested on your lap under the large tree outside.

He found himself plucking one out tentatively, flipping through some pages of a thick storybook with worn corners. Another book from the shelf— a thin book of floral poems and sonnets. His mind idly worked to put together what these books could possibly say about you.

After neatly putting another book away, a small glint caught his eyes. Toward the end of one of the shelf rows was a pile of three books with a precious stone sitting atop them.

Ah, the cor lapis stone he had used when he silently returned the two missing handkerchiefs to you many moons ago. An unknown feeling settled in his chest, warm & persistent. It flourished— euphoric, almost, and not too unpleasant. He wondered if it was somehow related to similar chest pains he’d dealt with. Could he really call it ‘pain’ if it wasn’t truly hurting him? The feeling was foreign and he was utterly clueless.

He moved the stone to check the book underneath, flipping through the pages curiously. Amber eyes indifferently skimmed through a page his finger landed on, curious to what contents the vague title held.

A romantic novel from the looks of it.

The words were needlessly descriptive, the dialogue a little confusing to understand. Such flowery language was a bit bold and the more he read, the more the imagery they tried to paint became vivid in his mind and—

Xiao quickly shut the book, his face warm as he neatly returned the book to its rightful place. Well, it was an interesting book to have in your possession, to say the least. He didn’t have much experience with what it described, but the erotic imagery the dialogue described still left his face a little flushed and brows furrowed as he huffed in indignance at his flustered state.

Mortals do such things? Well, he knew they did, but he was never one to look into it more since he had no reason to.

He had no experience in such intimate matters, nor did he pay much interest in them with his hands usually full on a daily basis. Yet, somehow the thought of you now caused a swirl of emotions inexperienced by him before. Or rather, if he did, he no longer remembered. New questions piled up in his mind.

He shook his head, practically wincing at the odd sensations that kicked him low in the gut as the heat rising high on his cheeks subsided.

“How bothersome,” Xiao muttered to himself with a sigh.

On that same train of thought, he glanced out the window. The sun was merely a whisper that remained as it tucked itself farther behind mountains and dipped below the horizon.

Gloved hands momentarily clenched by his sides, flexing to ease the small seed of doubt. Mortals were unpredictable and reckless, that much he was aware of. With a sigh he watched as the sky over Liyue settled into the tranquility of night.

Though night had fallen, there was still no sign of you returning.

And so, Xiao set off on his usual routine. Out he ventured to vanquish the scattered hotspots of evil activity that surfaced. Be it from subdued gods or his own karma, Xiao relentlessly made quick work of any and all evil.

It was his eternal duty, as bound by contract from the Geo Archon himself—this he knew. If anyone should have witnessed his swiftness as he worked solemnly, they would’ve noticed how he worked just a little harder to clear out any evil nearing your usual route home.

The moon rose high in the sky, a dusty blue as it cast soft light over Xiao’s masked form. His polearm jabbed into the ground and dissipated along with the yaksha mask he donned for battle. The roads that led back to Qingce Village were all cleared, yet still no sign of you.

Approaching the marsh under blue moonlight, his gloved hands created ripples in the calm surface. The reflection of his concerned eyes stared right back at him through the tumultuous ripples that distorted his reflection over playful waters.

Under the watchful eye of the moon, Xiao diligently washed away the impurities that remained on him from battle. Clear waters surrounding him became murky before clearing once again as the blood and grime was carried further down with the current. Xiao closed his eyes and allowed himself to bask under the moonlight, taking in the rare moment of tranquility.

And then it rang out, soft and clear like a wind chime dancing with the gentle breeze.

Adeptus Xiao.

Shrouded by darkness, he answered your summons. As the thin veil of dark entity surrounding him dispersed, he found himself next to a bridge. The waterfall behind him brought a refreshing breeze, and just beyond him he could see Bubu Pharmacy below as well as the harbor.

“You called,” Xiao inquired. “It’s fairly late.”

He wasn’t here to admonish you, though it sounded very much like it. With a playful grin, you smiled up at him from where you sat on the grass next to the bridge.

The way you carried yourself without a care in the world— it was almost endearing how you looked up at him with such fondness.

“Can I ask why you’re here of all places?”

Your nimble fingers continued their work on the flowers you had in your lap, and you almost looked away bashfully. “I wanted to gaze at the stars for a bit,” you admitted sheepishly. “I finished my errands earlier, but then I ran into Mister Zhongli from the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor and, well… The conversation went on for a while and we ended up here.”

Silently, Xiao took a seat next to you, eyeing the handful of glaze lilies that softly glowed on your lap.

“What did you talk about?” he inquired to fill the silence. He delicately twirled one of the glaze lilies between his gloved fingers.

“Oh… this and that,” you shrugged.

Xiao hummed in response, not wanting to pry into the conversation, until he felt the softness of petals brushing his forehead.

“Mister Zhongli… he showed me how to make this.” There was hesitation in your downcast eyes, and you peered up at him through your eyelashes. “Do you like it?”

“A crown of… glaze lilies,” Xiao noted slowly. Their soft fragrance was delicate and sweet, like the gentle presence of the moon. It reminded him of you. “I’m unfamiliar with mortal customs of exchanges. Is it an adeptal offering?”

You blinked, taken by surprise at the question before sputtering out in a fit of giggles.

“Oh– No, no! This is what we call a gift.”

Xiao furrowed his brows, taking in this vague description. “Hm… I see. What meaning does this gift have?”

You perched your chin on your finger, contemplating. The only ‘gifts’ adepti were familiar with were the offerings that few who went before them brought. Usually, an offering entailed the bargaining of a mortal’s wants and desires to come true. Selfish, wishes he was all too familiar with hearing often.

“Gifts are given to people you consider special,” you started. “To those people who are important to you, usually you put extra effort into the gift. Handmade gifts as well… embody special significance since they hold all the feelings poured into them to be given to your special person.”

The chirps of crickets and running water soothed over the momentary silence as he took in your explanation. Mortal customs were more emotionally driven than he once thought.

“I see. Then,” Xiao delicately tucked the glaze lily he held into your hair. “This is my small offering.”

The rose that dusted your cheeks as your grin lit up your features, it bloomed his chest with that foreign warmth. The weight of reciprocating the gesture without a second thought— he had just openly admitted to considering you a special person. It felt… right.

In the lateness of the cool night, you both sat side by side looking out at the display of glittering stars. He felt as your pulse would briefly quicken under his gloved hand whenever you stole a quick glance at him, and he would offer a gentle squeeze of reassurance in response. Curious, this human next to him— and yet he found himself enraptured by your simple presence.

Across the endless sky, you halted what you were idly chatting about as a speckle of light shot across the sky.

“A falling star… There’s rumors that making a wish on them will help it come true.” Xiao hummed in response, eyes closed in peaceful tranquility. “Hm…”

You pulled your knees closer to you as you contemplated your wish. Xiao watched you with one eye open, observing the way your features subtly scrunched up as you profoundly debated within you what your wish would be.

“So.”

“So?”

“What did you wish for?” Xiao asked quietly.

Mortal desires were usually the same. Wealth, power, lavish items— these wishes Xiao had heard of many times before. Yet—

“I wished…,” you scratched your cheek sheepishly. “I wished for a restful sleep.”

Your cheeks were quick to flush a deep crimson as you heard what sounded like a chuckle next to you. It dawned on you that you had never heard Xiao laugh until now. It was melodic, innocent.

“D-Don’t laugh!” you halfheartedly admonished with a playful huff. “Well, then— What’s your wish, Xiao?”

He pondered for a moment, closed his eyes and spoke soft as the flitting breeze.

“I wish to get to know you better.”

Perhaps he didn’t have all the right words at that moment, but he was bound to discover them sooner or later. Somehow, he was sure you would be the light that guided him the right way to go about these foreign feelings— feelings he was sure weren’t malignant, so he allowed them to persist.

These unsorted feelings for you... they weren’t getting in the way of anything. They were harmless, until proven otherwise.