#yet you are driven up the wall when in silence because it reminds you of your childhood isolation

[calciumcryptid]

Watching Perfect 10 Liners is just me trying not to beam all my divorce kid trauma onto Faifa.

[pascalispimp]

Through the Ashes

Pairing: Joel miller x reader

Summary: In a world ravaged by loss and survival, Joel Miller has long believed that love is a luxury he can no longer afford. Haunted by his past and driven by the need to protect those he cares about, his heart is as guarded as the walls around the small community of Jackson. But when Birdie, a former Firefly with a mysterious connection to Ellie, arrives in Jackson, Joel’s world is turned upside down.

Warnings for series: some angst with happy ending. Mutual pining. Eventual smut. Unspecified age gap. Takes places after TLOU season 1. Not canon to game ending. Joel will get his happy ending. Jealous!Joel. Protective!Joel. Canon typical violence.

Word count: 3k

** Masterlist **

Hi guys, this is my first fic in a very long time so please be kind. I’m posting the first chapter and if you guy’s enjoy it, let me know and I’ll post more. Would love to hear everyone’s thoughts on it!! Character doesn’t have a name but everyone calls her Birdie because of the Mockingbird tattoo on her arm.

Chapter 1- The First Meeting

The snow fell steadily outside the cabin, the wind howling through the gaps in the wooden walls. Joel was in the middle of cleaning his rifle, the rhythmic scrape of the brush against the metal barrel soothing in its familiarity. Jackson was quiet today—too quiet, for Joel’s taste—but then again, it was the dead of winter. The few settlers who ventured out for patrols returned with little to report, just the bitter cold biting at their heels.

A knock at the door broke his concentration, sharp and unexpected. Joel frowned, setting the rifle down carefully on the table. Not many people came to his cabin unannounced, especially in weather like this.

“Who is it?” Joel called out, his voice rough, as he crossed the small room to the door.

“It’s me, Tommy,” came the muffled reply from the other side.

Joel unlocked the door and pulled it open, the cold air rushing in as he did. Tommy stood on the porch, bundled up in his thick coat, but it wasn’t Tommy who drew Joel’s attention. It was the woman standing next to him.

“Joel, I’d like you to meet someone,” Tommy said, stepping aside slightly. “This is” Tommy said, your name escaping his lips. “But I call her Birdie”

Her name struck a chord in Joel’s memory, and he realized why as soon as he looked into her eyes. Those eyes—so familiar, so much like Ellie’s, but older, more weathered by the world.

She stepped forward, pulling the scarf away from her face. Her features were sharp, angular, with a stubborn chin and eyes that had seen too much. Her long hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail, a few strands escaping to frame her face. There was something fierce about her, a hardness that reminded Joel of the survivors he’d met on the road, but there was also a sadness that softened her.

Joel repeated her name, his voice carefully neutral.

“She’s Ellie’s aunt,” Tommy said, glancing between them. “Her mom’s younger sister.”

Birdie gave a small, curt nod. “I’ve been looking for her—for years. Since Boston.”

Joel’s mind raced, trying to piece together what he knew of Anna, Ellie’s mother, and what she might have told him about family. But there had been little to go on. Anna had been a Firefly, just like Birdie apparently was—or had been.

“You’re a Firefly,” Joel said, the words coming out like an accusation.

Birdie’s expression tightened, her eyes narrowing slightly. “I was. Not anymore. That was… a long time ago.”

Tommy cleared his throat, sensing the tension between them. “Birdie’s been on the road for a while. Just got back here yesterday, actually after travelling back to Boston”

Joel nodded slowly, though his eyes never left Birdie’s. He could see the exhaustion in her, the weight of whatever she had endured in her search for Ellie. There was a moment of silence, heavy with unspoken questions. Why now? Why here?

“Ellie doesn’t know yet,” Birdie said quietly, as if reading his mind. “I haven’t figured out how to tell her. I needed to see her first… to make sure she’s okay.”

“She’s fine,” Joel said, a bit too quickly, the protective edge in his voice undeniable. “She doesn’t need—”

“I’m not here to take her from you,” Birdie interrupted, her tone sharp, but not unkind. “I’m here because she’s all I have left.”

The words hung in the air between them, and Joel found himself softening, just slightly. He knew what it was like to lose everything, to have only one thing left in the world to hold onto. It was a pain that twisted and festered, driving people to do impossible things.

Tommy shifted uncomfortably, glancing between the two. “Well, I’ll let you two talk. I need to check on Maria. Birdie, your place should be ready for you whenever you’re ready. Hasn’t been touched since you left.”

“Thank you, Tommy,” Birdie said, her eyes flicking to him before returning to Joel. “I appreciate it.”

Tommy gave them both a nod and then stepped off the porch, disappearing into the falling snow, leaving Joel and Birdie alone.

Joel stepped aside, gesturing for her to come in. “You might as well get out of the cold.”

Birdie hesitated for just a moment before stepping inside. The warmth of the cabin hit her, and she could feel the chill starting to seep out of her bones. She unwound the scarf from her neck and shrugged off her coat, hanging it on the rack by the door. As she did, Joel couldn’t help but notice how thin she looked, how worn.

“Sit,” Joel said gruffly, motioning to the chair by the fire. “I’ll get you something warm.”

Birdie moved toward the chair, her eyes taking in the cabin as she did—a small, simple space, but well-kept, with everything in its place. She sat down slowly, the firelight casting flickering shadows across her face.

Joel busied himself with the kettle, filling it with water and setting it over the fire. His hands worked automatically, but his mind was racing. This woman—Ellie’s aunt—what was her angle? What did she want?

“I’m not here to make things difficult,” Birdie said suddenly, as if sensing his doubts. “I know what you did for Ellie. Tommy told me… some of it.”

Joel turned, his expression guarded. “You don’t know the half of it.”

“Maybe not,” Birdie admitted. “But I know enough to be grateful. Ellie’s lucky to have you.”

Joel said nothing, his eyes searching her face for any sign of deception. But all he saw was sincerity, mixed with a weariness that matched his own. She wasn’t here to cause trouble; she was here because she had nowhere else to go.

The kettle began to whistle, and Joel turned back to pour the water into two mugs. He handed one to Birdie, who accepted it with a nod of thanks.

“So,” Joel said, settling into the chair opposite her, “what’s your plan?”

Birdie took a sip of the tea, the warmth spreading through her chest. She looked at him, her gaze steady. “I don’t have one. I just want to be a part of Ellie’s life, if she’ll have me. And if you’ll let me.”

Joel studied her for a long moment, the fire crackling between them. Finally, he nodded, a silent truce forming between them.

“We’ll see,” he said, his voice low. “But know this—if you hurt her, if you bring any trouble here…”

“I won’t,” Birdie cut him off, her voice firm. “I swear it.”

Another silence fell between them, this one less heavy, more accepting. They were two people with jagged pasts, brought together by the same person they loved more than anything in this broken world.

And though neither of them could have known it then, that moment—born of mutual understanding and a shared need for connection—was the first step toward something neither of them had dared to hope for.

Something like love.

—-

The mid-afternoon sun bathed Jackson in a soft, golden light as Ellie stood on the porch of Joel’s cabin, her hands shoved deep into the pockets of her jacket. She glanced over at Joel, who was leaning against the wooden railing, his expression unreadable. He had been unusually quiet that day, and Ellie could sense the tension rolling off him in waves. Something was up, and it was putting her on edge.

“So… what’s this all about?” Ellie asked, her voice filled with cautious curiosity. She wasn’t used to Joel acting so cagey, and it made her uneasy.

Joel sighed, pushing himself off the railing and turning to face her. “There’s someone I want you to meet,” he said slowly, his eyes searching hers for a reaction. “Someone from your past.”

Ellie frowned, confused. She had already met everyone in Jackson who might have known her from before. Who could Joel be talking about? But before she could ask, the cabin door creaked open, and a woman stepped out onto the porch.

Ellie’s breath caught in her throat as she took in the sight of the woman standing before her. She was tall, with her hair pulled back into a loose ponytail, and her eyes—her eyes were so familiar. Ellie couldn’t place why at first, but something about them tugged at the edges of her memory.

“Ellie,” Joel said, his voice gentle but firm, “this is Birdie. She’s your mom’s younger sister.”

Ellie’s heart skipped a beat as the realization hit her. *My aunt.* She had never known her mother’s family—Joel had only told her bits and pieces about Anna, but never anything about anyone else. The idea that she had an aunt, someone who had been out there looking for her, was overwhelming.

Birdie took a tentative step forward, her eyes filled with emotion. “Ellie,” she said softly, her voice trembling just slightly. “I’ve been looking for you for so long.”

Ellie stiffened, the mix of emotions swirling inside her too complicated to untangle. Part of her wanted to run, to push this stranger away, to keep her distance as she had learned to do with everyone except Joel. But another part of her—a part she hadn’t let herself feel in a long time—wanted to reach out, to grab hold of this connection to her mother that she had thought she’d lost forever.

“I… I don’t remember you,” Ellie admitted, her voice shaky, her eyes darting to Joel for reassurance.

She smiled sadly, a soft, understanding look in her eyes. “You were just a baby the last time I saw you,” she said. “We were separated in Boston when the Fireflies took you after Anna, after she passed. I tried to find you, but by the time I got back… you were gone.”

Ellie swallowed hard, trying to process the flood of information. She had always wondered about her past, about the people she had lost, but she had never expected this—never expected to have someone from that past suddenly standing in front of her, claiming to have been searching for her all these years.

“I know this is a lot,” Birdie continued, her voice soft and patient. “And I don’t expect you to remember me, but I brought something that might help.”

She reached into the bag slung over her shoulder and pulled out a small, worn photo album. It was old, the edges frayed, but it had clearly been well cared for. Birdie opened it carefully, flipping through the pages until she found what she was looking for. She held it out to Ellie, her hands trembling slightly.

Ellie hesitated for a moment, glancing up at Joel again. He nodded encouragingly, though she could see the tension in his jaw, the way his hands clenched into fists at his sides. It wasn’t like Joel to be so tense around new people—especially not someone he had invited into their lives. But there was something in his eyes that told her this was important, that this was something she needed to do.

Ellie took the album from her, her fingers brushing against the worn leather cover. She looked down at the picture on the page, her breath catching in her throat. It was a photograph of a woman holding a small child—a baby with big, curious eyes and a tuft of dark hair. The woman was smiling, a bright, loving smile, and Ellie felt a pang of recognition deep in her chest.

“That’s you, and me. Not long before you were taken.” She said softly, pointing to the baby in the picture. “And that’s your mom, not long before you were born.”

Ellie’s fingers traced the edges of the photograph, her heart pounding. She had seen pictures of her mother before, but never like this—never with her. There was something so achingly familiar about the woman in the picture, something that made Ellie’s chest tighten with emotion.

“I… I remember this,” Ellie whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I remember you holding me like this.”

Birdie smiled, tears welling up in her eyes. “You were so small, but you were already so strong. Just like your mom.”

Ellie’s throat tightened as she looked at the other photos in the album—pictures of her as a baby, pictures of her mother and Birdie together, smiling and laughing, snapshots of a life she had lost and never thought she’d find again. The memories were faint, like trying to grasp at wisps of smoke, but they were there, and as she looked at each picture, they became clearer, more vivid.

Joel watched them from the side, his heart heavy with conflicting emotions. He was happy for Ellie—truly, he was. Seeing her reconnect with a piece of her past, a piece of her mother, was something he had always wished for her. But at the same time, a pang of jealousy twisted in his gut, mingling with the protectiveness that had always been there, simmering just below the surface.

Birdie was Ellie’s blood, a living connection to her mother, and Joel knew that was something he could never be. He had tried his best to fill the role of father, of protector, but deep down, there was a fear—a fear that now that Ellie had someone else, someone from her past, she might need him less. The thought terrified him more than he could admit.

As Ellie continued to flip through the album, her eyes bright with a mix of wonder and sadness, Joel forced himself to push the jealousy aside, focusing instead on the way her face lit up with each new memory that surfaced. This was a good thing. He had to remind himself of that. She was here for Ellie, and that was what mattered.

“I can’t believe you kept these,” Ellie said, her voice trembling as she looked up at her, tears brimming in her eyes.

Birdie smiled, her own eyes wet. “I kept them for you. I knew that one day, I’d find you, and I wanted you to have something to remember her by.”

Ellie bit her lip, a tear slipping down her cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice cracking.

Birdie reached out, hesitating for just a moment before gently placing her hand on Ellie’s shoulder. “I’m so glad I found you, Ellie. I’ve missed you so much.”

Ellie looked up at her, the walls she had built around herself slowly crumbling. She could see the truth in her eyes—the love, the longing, the pain of having been separated for so long. It was the same pain Ellie had carried with her for years, the same sense of loss that had haunted her. But now, for the first time, it felt like that loss was being filled, piece by piece.

“I’ve missed you too,” Ellie admitted, her voice small, but filled with a deep, raw honesty. “Even if I didn’t remember, I missed you.”

Birdie’s face broke into a tearful smile, and she pulled Ellie into a gentle hug, holding her close as if she was afraid to let go. Ellie stiffened for a moment, unaccustomed to the sudden show of affection, but then she relaxed into the embrace, allowing herself to feel the warmth of it, the connection she had been missing for so long.

Joel watched them, his chest tight with a mix of emotions. He was happy—so damn happy—to see Ellie finding this connection, but the pang of jealousy was still there, sharp and insistent. He knew it was irrational, knew that Ellie’s love for her didn’t diminish what they had, but it was hard to shake the fear that had taken root in his heart.

Ellie finally pulled back from the hug, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. She looked at Birdie, really looked at her, and for the first time, she saw the family resemblance—saw the way Birdie’s eyes mirrored her own, saw the way her smile reminded her of her mother.

“I want to know more,” Ellie said, her voice steadier now. “About her. About you.”

Birdie smiled, a warm, genuine smile that made Ellie feel like she was finally home. “I’ll tell you everything,” she promised. “Anything you want to know.”

Joel stepped forward, unable to stay on the sidelines any longer. He placed a hand on Ellie’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “You two have a lot to catch up on,” he said, trying to keep his voice light, though the tension in his body betrayed him.

Ellie looked up at him, her expression softening. “You’re okay with this, right?” she asked, searching his face.

Joel nodded, forcing a smile. “Of course, kiddo. This is good. It’s what you need.”

Ellie studied him for a moment longer, sensing that something was off, but not quite able to place it. She reached up and covered his hand with hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You’re still my family, Joel. That’s never going to change.”

Joel’s heart swelled at her words, the jealousy easing just a little. He nodded, his throat too tight to speak, and gave her a small, grateful smile.

Birdie watched the exchange, understanding the depth of the bond between Joel and Ellie. She knew that Joel was protective of Ellie, that he had been her rock through everything, and she didn’t want to come between them. But she also knew that this was something Ellie needed, something that would help her heal.

“Joel,” She said gently, “thank you. For everything you’ve done for her. I can see how much she means to you.”

Joel met her gaze, and for a moment, there was an unspoken understanding between them—an acknowledgment of the roles they both played in Ellie’s life. Joel nodded, the tension in his chest easing just a bit more.

“She means everything to me,” Joel said quietly, his voice full of emotion.

Birdie smiled, her eyes soft with gratitude. “And now, she’s got both of us,” she said, her voice filled with hope.

Ellie looked between them, a small, tentative smile tugging at her lips. For the first time in a long time, she felt like she had a real family—one that stretched back to her past and carried her into the future. And as she stood there, between Joel and Birdie, she realized that maybe, just maybe, she could finally start to heal.

[ikkyfics]

Kit Walker x fem!reader

Summary: A love born in the midst of anguish, shattering hearts and stitching them together again. When everything seems lost, can hope find its way back?

Warning: All angst with a little bit of fluffy, violence, graphic descriptions, explicit language, intense suffering, mentions of death, traumatic events, psychological suffering, emotional vulnerability, sensitive themes and a happy ending because Kit deserves the world

Beyond the Darkness

Previous Chapter ⟵ Chapter Two⟶ Next Chapter

Time moved in a peculiar way. That scientist who spoke about the relativity of time was probably right.

The world around you felt wrong, distorted, like a reflection in a cracked mirror. The walls of Briarcliff seemed to ripple as if made of wax, melting and reforming into impossible shapes. The ceiling bent downward, threatening to crush you, while the floor seemed to sink beneath your feet. You couldn't tell where you were stepping—or if you were stepping at all.

Voices echoed in the distance, wrapped in a constant hum that refused to leave your ears. Everything was a blur, like a misaligned radio where every station played broken memories and dissonant sounds. For a moment, you swore you heard your sister's laughter, but when you tried to focus, it vanished, swallowed by the deafening silence that always followed.

Your body no longer obeyed like it once did. Every step felt forced, as if you were wading through quicksand. The raw, throbbing pain in your scorched temples was a relentless reminder of what they had done. The ache pulsed, sharp and insistent, as though the electric currents still danced cruelly along your nerves.

You caught a glimpse of your reflection in a window as you passed. For a moment, you didn't recognize it. It was hard to accept that the apathetic figure with lifeless eyes and sallow skin staring back was you.

Kit was sitting in one of the uncomfortable chairs, one hand resting on his knee while the other held a cigarette between his fingers. He listened to the grating rhythm of Dominique echoing through the loudspeakers—a sound meant to distract but that only fed his growing unease. He looked up when the door opened and, for a moment, thought he'd been mistaken.

But it was you.

You entered, moving like a puppet with its strings cut. Your spine curved, your steps hesitant, shoulders hunched under the weight of an invisible burden. Your temples were marred with red marks and burns, a grotesque reminder of what they'd done. Your hair fell messily over your face, but it wasn’t enough to hide your eyes—empty, extinguished, like windows to a crumbling house.

Kit felt a tightness in his chest. He had seen so much since being thrown into Briarcliff, but this... This hit him like a punch. You looked less human, more like a specter, a shadow dragging itself through the corridors. It was as if something inside you had been forcibly ripped away.

He stood, driven by some unexplainable force, and approached you. He didn’t know why he was doing it—not after how you’d treated him, acting like he was scum, convinced he’d committed those vile acts. Yet he couldn’t help it. Maybe it was the fact that no one else seemed to notice, or care, about your state.

“Hey,” he called softly, but you didn’t respond. Maybe you didn’t hear him. Your eyes roamed the room, unfocused, as though nothing around you mattered.

You sat mechanically in a nearby chair, your gaze wandering aimlessly. Kit hesitated before crouching beside you, his voice low, careful not to startle you. “Are you... okay?”

“She won’t answer,” another voice cut in. Lana Winters stood a few steps away, arms crossed and her expression hardened. “I know what that’s like. After a session of electroshock, the world feels... strange. Sometimes, it doesn’t even feel like the same world.”

Kit glanced at Lana briefly before turning back to you. You remained still, only breathing—and even that seemed like an effort.

“They fried her brain,” Kit murmured, almost to himself.

Lana sighed. “That’s how they break us. But...” She paused, her gaze softening as it lingered on you, a mix of pity and something that resembled encouragement in her expression. “You’re still here. It might not seem like much, but it is.”

Kit nodded slowly. He didn’t know what to do or say, but he couldn’t just leave. He stayed by your side, unbothered by the uncomfortable silence, expecting nothing in return.

“You’re not alone,” he whispered, so softly it was almost inaudible.

Maybe you didn’t hear him. Maybe you couldn’t comprehend it in that moment. But he promised himself that, for now, it would be enough.

The next two days dragged by without change.

Kit sat on the cold floor, leaning against the wall beside a chair. The cigarette between his fingers burned slowly, its smoke spiraling into the stagnant, heavy air of the room. The dim light flickered as if it were about to fail, casting long shadows that crawled across the floor. Dominique played again—always Dominique, that damned melody echoing through the halls like a sadistic whisper. Briarcliff felt like a mausoleum—a place where souls came to wither.

He took a deep drag from the cigarette, as though the nicotine could fill the growing emptiness in his chest. His eyes kept returning to you. They always did.

You sat in the chair beside him, so still you seemed like part of the furniture, your head tilted forward, hair falling like a veil and partially obscuring the red marks and burns on your temples. It was as if the electroshock had drained not just the energy from your body but any trace of who you once were.

Kit ran a hand through his hair, further tousling the already unruly strands. He didn’t know why he stayed, why he felt this almost visceral need to be near you. Not after everything. You hated him—he knew that. And perhaps, you had every right to. Those first few weeks in Briarcliff had been a silent war between the two of you, a battle of stares and sharp words. You were convinced he was guilty, that he had committed those atrocities. He couldn’t blame you for it.

But now...

Now you seemed hollow. No anger, no hatred. Just a devastating silence.

Kit took another drag from his cigarette, his eyes fixed on some indistinct point in the room. “Thredson wants to see me tomorrow,” he began, his voice low, almost a murmur. He didn’t expect a response, but talking was better than facing the silence. “Every time I walk into that room, he looks at me like he already knows. Like he’s just waiting for me to confess to something I didn’t do.”

He let out a bitter laugh, short and devoid of humor. “It’s funny... I mean, it’s not. But he acts like he’s my friend, you know? Like he’s there to help me. Then he starts asking those questions... and somehow, he always makes it seem like I’m lying, even when I’m telling the truth.”

He shook his head, frustration mixing with anger in his expression. “Sometimes, I think no one will ever believe me. That maybe I should just... let it go. Stop fighting.”

Kit glanced at you again. You hadn’t moved, but he could see the faint tremor in your hands resting on the coarse fabric of your dress. The gray Briarcliff uniform seemed stifling, like an extension of the institution’s walls, draining all color and life.

“But then I look at you,” he said, his voice nearly a whisper, “and I see what happens when someone stops fighting. I can’t do that. I can’t let myself end up like this.”

He leaned back, resting his head against the wall, the cigarette now forgotten between his fingers. “I don’t know why I keep coming back here, near you. Maybe it’s because no one else seems to notice what they’ve done to you. Or maybe it’s because...” He hesitated, carefully choosing his words. “Because you remind me what it’s like to be broken.”

And that’s when he noticed.

A subtle movement. Your lips, shifting slightly, almost imperceptibly. He blinked, thinking he might have imagined it. But then it happened again: your mouth trying to form words, struggling against the invisible weight keeping it shut.

“Smoking... is bad for you,” you murmured, your voice hoarse and hesitant, as if each word was being pulled from a deep, forgotten place.

Kit blinked, confused. He leaned forward, stubbing out the cigarette on the floor without taking his eyes off you. “What?”

You swallowed hard, your gaze fixed on a point beyond him. “My sister... hated the smell. Said it... only caused harm.”

Your voice wavered, as fragile as the dim light in the room. “So... I quit.”

The silence that followed was almost tangible. Kit felt a lump in his throat, an inexplicable tightness in his chest. He’d never heard you mention your sister before, but the way those words came out, with so much effort, made him understand. It meant something.

“You spoke,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. He wanted to say more, but the words felt too small for the moment.

You had already retreated again, your eyes wandering to a place he couldn’t reach. Kit knew trying to continue the conversation would be futile. Yet, he couldn’t suppress a small smile.

You were still there. Lost, broken, but still there.

Time in Briarcliff had a strange way of dragging on while also slipping away unnoticed. Days and nights blurred together, and you weren’t sure if the outside world still existed or if you’d been swallowed entirely by the cold walls of the institution.

But something had begun to change, almost imperceptibly. A sound, a voice. At first, it made no sense—a distant murmur, like the rustling of leaves. But slowly, it solidified. Words took shape. They weren’t just meaningless echoes—they were for you.

You didn’t have the strength to react. Your body still felt too heavy, your mind shrouded in a thick fog that obscured any attempt at clarity. But there was something about that voice that refused to be ignored.

When your eyes finally focused, you recognized the disheveled curls falling over his forehead. They looked different from the last time you’d paid attention—longer, perhaps, or just messier. His eyes were intense, though the exhaustion was evident in the shadows beneath them. He sat nearby, but not close enough to feel threatening, as if he understood that the space between you needed to be respected.

“You’re here,” he murmured, more a statement than a question.

Your throat was dry, so parched it felt like you’d swallowed shards of glass. The words came from a distant place inside you, hesitant, almost as if they weren’t your own.

“Why?” The word came out weak, hoarse, like the sound of something breaking. “Why... are you here?”

He paused, his eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to decipher what you meant.

“Because someone needs to be,” he replied, his voice low and calm but laden with something you couldn’t quite identify. “And I wasn’t going to leave you alone. Not now.”

You blinked, trying to process his words. The confusion inside you grew, a tangled mess that only deepened with every moment he didn’t move away.

“I...” You tried again, but your voice failed. Taking a deep breath, you forced each word out as if they were a battle. “I’m... the last person you’d choose.”

He tilted his head, his gaze fixed on you as if trying to solve a puzzle.

“Do you really believe that?” Kit asked, genuine surprise coloring his tone.

You averted your eyes, unable to hold the weight of his stare. It wasn’t hard to believe. What you had done, the things you had planned against him—they still haunted your thoughts.

He didn’t press further. He let the silence fill the space between you, but it wasn’t the heavy, oppressive kind you were used to. It was something different, almost... comforting.

“I don’t know why you see yourself that way,” he eventually said. “But no one deserves to go through this alone. No matter what happened before.”

You wanted to respond, to deny what he was saying, but the words were lost in the fog of your mind. Instead, you focused on his voice, the soft accent that seemed to carry the weight of the world yet still made room for kindness.

“You...” Your voice broke again, but he waited patiently. “You had... a wife.”

He froze, clearly caught off guard by the shift in subject. His reaction was a mix of confusion and what looked like a flicker of pain.

“Yes,” he said after a moment, his voice quieter, almost a whisper. “Alma.”

There was a pause, and you could almost feel the tension in the air.

“She’s...” He hesitated, as if the words were trapped somewhere deep within him. Finally, they emerged, heavy with an old sorrow. “She was taken. I don’t know where she is. Or if she’s even alive.”

You hadn’t expected that answer. It was one thing to hear rumors, another entirely to see the way his eyes darkened, as if he were reliving the moment as he spoke.

“But you believe she’s still out there?” you asked, your voice still weak but now carried by something more—curiosity, perhaps.

Kit sighed, and for the first time, he broke eye contact, staring at some undefined point on the wall.

“I want to believe,” he said, his voice lower now. “Because if I don’t, there’s nothing left. Just the void.”

His answer stripped him of any semblance of strength or resistance. He seemed... human. And for the first time since you’d met him, you saw something that wasn’t a threat or anger. It was loss.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured, and you meant it. There was nothing else to offer but that.

He looked at you, as if the simplicity of your response was something unexpected, something he didn’t know how to process.

“Thank you,” he said, and there was a note of relief in his voice, as though those words had lifted a small weight from his shoulders.

Silence settled between you again, but this time it was different. It wasn’t the uncomfortable kind that usually filled the spaces between you. It was almost... peaceful.

“You’re different,” he said after a moment, breaking the quiet.

You frowned, the word echoing in your mind. Different. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know. Maybe it’s the way you look at me now." He tilted his head slightly, as if trying to decipher something just out of reach. "Before, it was like… I was a monster to you."

You felt your face flush, but you didn’t try to deny it. He wasn’t wrong.

"I was wrong," you admitted, the words surprising both him and yourself.

The silence between you was like an impending storm—dense, almost suffocating. The unspoken words hung in the air, yet now they seemed incapable of capturing the weight of it all. Kit remained there, watching you with an intensity you didn’t know how to handle. He had said so many times that no one believed him, that no one was there for him. And yet here you were, stripping away all the defenses you’d so painstakingly built.

His voice was hoarse, broken, but every word carried a weight stronger than the last. "I never thought I’d hear that from you." The pain was clear, but it wasn’t his alone—it was as if those words were tearing through you, too.

The air in your lungs felt cold, your heart pounding with guilt and regret. "I was wrong," you whispered, and the way the words came out made your stomach twist. It felt like a chasm had opened in your chest. "About everything. About you."

Kit didn’t respond immediately, but his eyes—those same eyes you had once so harshly hated—were deeper now. You could see the pain in them, yes, but also something else, something you couldn’t quite define. Maybe vulnerability. Maybe need. He had said he felt invisible, and now here you were, breaking apart the judgments you’d once constructed.

"And what did you think I was, huh? A monster?" He forced a bitter, almost cynical smile, but there was nothing humorous in it. "A murderer, maybe?" His words were sharp, acidic, but the anguish in his gaze made your chest tighten. "That’s what everyone sees when they look at me." He shifted slightly, as though trying to escape something suffocating him. Every movement seemed heavy, as if weighed down by an unbearable burden.

The guilt crushed you. Your head throbbed painfully, as though it might split open, and every word he spoke was a brutal reminder of what you’d done. You wanted to shrink away but couldn’t. "I… I did terrible things," you said, the sound of your own voice sending a chill down your spine. Each syllable dragged out, like stones scraping against a current.

Kit looked at you, his dark eyes studying every piece of you, every fragment of the pain you tried to hide. He was seeing more than you wanted to show, but he didn’t pull away. He just looked.

"I hated you," you admitted, and it felt like those words were tearing you apart. "I thought you were guilty… I… I did things you didn’t deserve. Things..." Your voice cracked, and you nearly choked on the guilt consuming you. "Things I didn’t even know…" You hadn’t known, but you’d done them anyway. Every plan you’d made, every step you’d taken to ruin his life. All of it. All of it was now unraveling in tears.

Kit didn’t respond immediately. He just stood there in silence, as if trying to piece together every fragment of anguish spilling from you. And when he finally spoke, his voice wasn’t harsh but filled with something you couldn’t quite understand—a raw vulnerability, as if he were exposing an open wound. "I know what you did," he said, his voice low, but it wasn’t an accusation. It was something else… something more painful. "I know what you tried to do to me."

The words felt like a blade slicing through the air between you, but his tone was so desolate that you couldn’t react. He already knew.

"I thought I deserved it," Kit continued, and those words fell on you like his very life was unraveling before your eyes. "Because… everything that’s happened to me… everything I’ve lost… it makes it seem like this is what the world is trying to teach me. That maybe I’m supposed to be punished." His voice shook, and the anguish in his eyes was palpable, as if every word made him relive a piece of all he’d lost. "I thought that’s what I deserved."

You couldn’t hold it back anymore. The tears flowed freely now, a torrent of sorrow and regret. It wasn’t just your pain. It was his, too. His gaze, so full of despair, touched something inside you that you hadn’t known still existed. You wanted to tell him he didn’t deserve it, that no one deserved it. But words were a frailty, a useless attempt to mend something far too broken.

"No." The word came out raw. "No, you don’t deserve this. It can’t be this." You looked at him, desperate to convey something—anything—but the words failed. What he had suffered, what he felt now, was a weight you couldn’t erase with mere apologies.

Kit didn’t respond right away. He just looked at you, and for a moment, it felt like he was unraveling alongside you. The weight he carried, the emptiness he tried to fill, was there, plain in his eyes.

His hand extended toward you. It was such a simple gesture, yet it carried the full weight of the trust he was beginning to place in you. You hesitated, staring at his hand, but before you could think too much, your fingers closed around it, as though that hand was the only thing keeping you grounded. You couldn’t remember the last time someone had touched you so gently, without violence, without resentment. You couldn’t remember if anyone ever had.

His fingers intertwined with yours, and you felt something pulse between you—something strong and broken. Something new.

Kit looked at you, his suffering no longer hidden. "You’re not alone," he said, his voice carrying a relief you didn’t understand. He wasn’t just saying it to you—he was saying it to himself, too.

He hadn’t lied when he said he’d stay by your side. His presence became a constant in your days, making them more bearable. When the pressure in your head became unbearable and even the faintest light hurt your eyes, Kit remained. It was no longer strange for his fingers to find yours, their hold firm and warm. Sometimes, neither of you spoke, but his presence was enough.

The burns on your temples had finally begun to fade when they reassigned you to the kitchen again.

The kitchen was a place you knew well, but now it felt different, as though the walls had closed in, making it a smaller, tighter space. It was the first time you’d returned since the electroshock session, and the pain still seemed to echo in your body—a scar your mind couldn’t forget. But Kit’s presence was an anchor, a point of stability in a turbulent sea.

He stood there, near the sink, hands resting on the marble surface, eyes fixed on you. Brown curls fell messily over his forehead, and the weak light from the window behind him cast shadows that accentuated the striking features of his face, making him more human than ever. With each passing day, something about him grew lighter, as if, in some way, the weight of imprisonment and guilt was beginning to ease. But what you didn't know was that your presence also did this for him. He could no longer deny that, amidst the pain you both shared, a thin thread of connection was forming, and he didn't know how to react to it.

"Do you need help?" His voice was gentle, yet there was a firmness that made you hold your breath. He wasn't just asking; he was asserting, and it made you want to crumble and cling to him, the pressure at your temples as strong as the desire.

You hesitated, your eyes moving from his hands to his face, and something inside you tightened at the closeness. It wasn’t just the pain that hurt; it was the guilt, the shame, the fear of making yourself vulnerable again. But Kit’s gaze, deep and silent, spoke of understanding. And you wondered how long you would be able to hold out.

"Yes," you said, your voice hoarse, almost a whisper.

He stepped closer, careful steps, as if any sudden movement could break something fragile between you. He placed a hand gently on your back, the warmth radiating from him making your skin prickle. The touch was an unexpected relief, but also a torment you didn’t know how to handle.

“Let me do this,” he said, and his voice carried something you couldn’t name. It was a promise, a silent commitment that made your heart beat faster than it should.

His calloused, strong fingertips were as gentle as possible as he washed your hands, pressing your palms with an almost reverent care. Your eyes met his, and you saw the glint of concern and something else, something that resembled tenderness, reflected there. Your throat tightened, and the sound of your breath seemed too loud in the silence surrounding you.

“Kit…” you whispered, your voice choked with the emotion rising from a place you had feared for so long. He didn’t respond immediately, but the look he gave you was the clearest answer: he understood, perhaps even more than you wanted to admit.

“I’m here,” he said, and for the first time, his words didn’t sound like an empty promise. They were words that filled the void you had carried for so long. He wasn’t a solution, he wasn’t an escape — but somehow, he was becoming a reason to keep going, a reason you hadn’t felt before.

The water stopped running, and the space between you closed as if the world had paused. You wanted to look away, but something in Kit — perhaps the way the light danced in his eyes, or the way his fingers still touched yours — made you hold on to him as if he were the only solid thing amid the storm.

He seemed to have found something he needed, something that went beyond his own pain. The warmth of his hand on yours, the gentleness of the touch that was not violent, the way he waited, silent, gave you a feeling you hadn’t felt in a long time — and his heartbeat seemed to match yours, a quiet echo that promised something you couldn’t name, but that, for once, seemed possible.

The scent of flour and butter began to fill the kitchen, mingling with the faintly sweet aroma of sugar. Kit placed a large bowl on the counter, and the sound of his hands working the dough was the only noise between you. He seemed focused, absorbed in a way that was both light and intensely captivating. The way his hands moved, precise and careful, the way his face lit up with an awkward smile when a bit of flour landed on his cheek... it was something you never thought you’d see there, in that place that had for so long been synonymous with despair.

But today, something was changing. Something that felt like a ray of sunlight breaking through dense clouds. You watched as Kit laughed at himself, dipping the tip of his finger into the flour and licking it without caring what you might think of him. And before you could stop yourself, a smile appeared on your own lips. A real smile, unreserved, as if it had sprouted from somewhere deep, a place that had until then been silent.

“You’re smiling,” Kit said, his voice softly surprised, but with a gleam of pleasure in his eyes. He turned, and his expression mirrored what you felt, a mix of disbelief and contentment.

“I... I think I am,” you replied, the heat rising to your cheeks. The feeling was strange, but in a good way. The lightness you felt was such a stark contrast to what you had experienced in recent days that it almost seemed surreal.

He gave a muffled laugh, his mouth curving into a smile that made your chest ache in an almost sweet way. “Well, since we’re on this path, let’s make a good batch of cookies, shall we?” He winked at you, a quick and childish gesture, then returned his attention to the dough. He ran a hand across his forehead, brushing away some of the flour that had accumulated, and you couldn’t help but let out a light sigh. He was so... real, so human.

The surrounding environment seemed to dissolve, becoming a picture where the warm light of the kitchen and the sound of kneading dough were the only elements. The work became a rhythm between you — you rolling out the dough, him cutting the cookies with simple shapes, a star, a heart, a crescent moon. Every now and then, he would glance at you sideways, and whenever he did, you felt your heart leap unconsciously.

“Do you need help cutting the cookies?” you asked, your voice taking on a playful tone that sounded new.

Kit lifted his eyes, and the two of you stared at each other for a moment. “Sure,” he said, handing the cookie cutter to you. His fingers brushed yours, quick and soft, and you held your breath, a fleeting spark of electricity between you. He was close enough for you to feel the warmth radiating from his skin, and you desperately wanted to hold on to that moment a little longer, but logic kept reminding you that this was just a pause, a break from the storm of the past days.

“Watch out for the flour, okay? It has a mind of its own,” he joked, a mischievous glint in his eyes, and you laughed, a sound that seemed to make the world stop.

Before putting the cookies in the oven, you paused to watch Kit, who stepped away from the counter and wiped his hands on the towel. Flour was still scattered across his face and hair, and seeing him like this, carefree and light, made warmth spread in your chest. But there was something in his gaze, a gleam of complicity, that reminded you of something you couldn’t quite identify.

“You don’t smoke near me anymore,” you commented, your voice low and curious. It was a small detail, but one that surprised you from time to time, as if it were a reminder he didn’t want you to forget.

Kit looked at you with a smile, almost as if he had expected the question. “Yeah, I’ve been avoiding doing that when I’m around you,” he replied, the words simple, but filled with a care you didn’t know he had. “I know you stopped smoking.”

The surprise crossed your face before you forced yourself to regain composure. “How do you know that?” you asked, frowning. The tone of your voice sounded more curious than suspicious, but something in his expression seemed a little melancholic, as if he were touching on a memory he didn’t want to relive.

Kit gave a small smile, his mouth curving with a lightness that made his eyes shine. “You told me,” he said softly, his voice lower, almost as if he feared someone might overhear. “When you were still... well, after the electroshock session. You said you didn’t want to smoke anymore because of your sister.”

The air in the kitchen seemed to freeze for a moment. Your breath caught in your throat, and the weight of those words settled, warming and tightening your chest at the same time. You didn’t remember saying that. But now that Kit mentioned it, the image of your sister came to mind, clear and painful. You remembered her smile, the way she would hum softly while helping you do anything, the way her hands would intertwine with yours when you sat in the kitchen to make cookies like those.

“She was... everything to me,” you said, your voice breaking with the force of longing. The words slipped out before you could stop them, and a shiver ran down your spine as you recognized the truth you had been keeping.

Kit didn’t answer right away, he just looked at you, his eyes so sincere that your heart beat faster, as if he understood without needing any more words. And for a moment, you didn’t know if the pain you felt was for her, for you, or for the way Kit seemed to be the only one capable of touching you in a way you didn’t quite understand.

“I never thought there would be someone who understood what it was like…” You hesitated, feeling your eyes fill with tears you didn’t want to shed. But Kit knew you in a way no one else did, he knew your silences and the sadness you hid. He just reached out, gently touching your arm. The touch, even if light, was enough to make the world seem a little more bearable.

“I understand, more than you know,” Kit said, and the honesty in his voice was so palpable that it seemed to fill the room with a new feeling. One you didn’t know you needed, but that, somehow, was there.

The words that followed were soft and almost hesitant. “She was… my sister, but she was like my other half. When she was gone, I was… broken, for a long time.”

“I know,” Kit said, and the two of you were silent for a moment, absorbing her absence as if she were somehow present in the kitchen, between you. But instead of an unbearable sadness, there was a more complex feeling. A breath, an ease that maybe, just maybe, a part of her was there, in what was left of you, and in the way Kit was there to remind you that you could still be whole again, in time.

And as the cookies finally baked, the kitchen felt like more than just a place of pain. It was where you and Kit met, where her memory and the reality of now intertwined in a silent, delicate dance. It was something that was beginning to warm the space between you, in a way that even you didn’t know was possible.

[isobelleposts]

A Reminder That We Are Human: ‘Human Acts’ by Han Kang Review

by Isobelle Cruz [May 21, 2023]

I’ve been hesitant to open up my laptop lately, afraid that I had lost it in me to write a really good article, not in terms of how many likes I receive, but on how much I enjoy the process of making it. My recent works, I admit, have felt passionless and forced for the sake of keeping my blog alive. But this is different. I devoured “Human Acts” by Han Kang over the course of one weekend—my eyes rarely drifting from its pages.

I’d never encountered an interest in the author’s works before, but once I stepped foot in the bookstore, I was suddenly drawn to its cover; simple and clean, silencing the world that surrounded me into muffled echoes.

“Gwangju Uprising” scene in Saedeuldo Sesangeul Teuneunguna at the Yeongwoo Theatre, 1988 [Image Source: Yeongwoo Mudae]

Her lips move, but no sound comes out. Yet Eun-sook knows exactly what she is saying. She recognizes the lines from the manuscript, where Mr. Seo had written them in with a pen. The manuscripts she’s typed up herself, and proofread three times. 

Page 101 of Human Acts

The book features the perspectives of seven characters, one of them being an editor in 1985. Eun-sook’s chapter shows her struggle against censorship and how the company overcomes this, still able to deliver the crossed-out lines of the censors through chilling imagery. Han Kang’s writing is delivered almost in the same feels as the play tackled in her book; quiet, slow, but enough to tell the story.

Gym turned mortuary in May 1980. [Image Source: Robin Moyer, Korea JoongAng Daily]

Another perspective that drew my attention closer than the others was of The Boy’s Friend, Jeong-dae. The words of the dead were briefly featured in the book; faceless spirits hovering over their bodies and watching as others live on, unable to do anything but watch.

If I could escape the sight of our bodies, that festering flesh now fused into a single mass, like rotting carcass of some many-legged monster. If I could sleep, truly sleep, not this flickering haze of wakefulness. If I could plunge headlong down to the floor of my pitch-dark consciousness.

Page 56 of “Human Acts”

It was depressing, and made me conscious of the body I still have control over—a blessing that I often take for granted.

Students on the streets of Gwangju, 1980 [Image Source: Lee Chang-seong, May 18 Memorial Foundation]

Is it possible to bear witness to the fact that of a foot-long wooden ruler being repeatedly thrust into my vagina, all the way to the back wall of my uterus? To a rifle butt bludgeoning my cervix? To the fact that, when the bleeding wouldn’t stop and I had gone into shock, they had to take me to the hospital for a blood transfusion?

Page 164 of Human Acts

Human Acts is flinchingly explicit and gory. It tells the stories of victims from different angles, some of which I would forget to consider if I had not opened this book.

It disturbs me to display these photos on here, but I believe that if words are not enough to deliver chills to the blinded eyes of people, photographs will.

The kids in the photo aren’t lying side by side because their corpses were lined up like that after they were killed. It’s because they were walking in a line.

Page 133 of Human Acts

Whether you read this in the rain, or at the beach where life is supposed to be happy, a strike of pain will stay in the back of your chest, the images of agony haunting you even in bed. 

Human Acts truly opened my mind much more than the other books I’ve read that spit out facts and statistics, so much so, that I am driven away from what matters most—feeling and sympathizing with the victims. Most books I’ve encountered focus solely on hating the dictator that I finish them feeling sort of empty, that I am the same person as I was when I started the book. But that is not the case with Han Kang’s third novel. It reminded me that I am human, and how much my life should be valued.

[tendous-whore]

Wait wait, I really liked ‘Home is with you’ 🥺😫 but my angst self just pictured the aftermath of part 1…. But with Y/N birthing her and Toji’s baby…. Naoya being single again and one day running into baby Y/N/Toji and seeing what could’ve been …. 🧍🏻‍♀️🏃🏻‍♀️ only if you’re down

it should have been me

Pt. 3 to do you think of me too?

summary: (requested/continuation of do you think of me too?) just when he thinks you’re out of his life, everything he sees reminds him of you. so when you cross paths yet again, naoya is reminded of a life that could have been his.

warnings: angst?? probs fluff hehe lol

notes: I just finished this about what feels like a reallllly long time so it's unedited & probably kinda long or short idk hehe but I AM SO DOWN 😩 down bad 🥴 also hope yall like it!!

Toji Fushiguro, was a man with no fears, that is, until he met you. He remembers that fateful day, how he had stumbled upon the strange creature, buried beneath the tall tree, and hidden in the silence, away from the bustling world beyond the mountain. At first, he admired from afar, of the quietness that enveloped your dormant frame, of how the hushed forestry claimed you ever so graciously, to remain here, where you belonged. And you did, despite the kimono, splotched with mud and dirt, you had settled in well, that even the cherry blossoms and wisteria petals swayed in rival, envious of your beauty.

And so was he.

Naoya Zen’in, bowed before no one, not even you. The delicately groomed bride of his, molded to his exact liking hardly deserved kindness in this world of men. You were simply a woman, destined to serve below his feet. Even so, he recalls the feeling in his chest that fateful day, to be relieved. Fitted before him, so elegant and beautiful, he felt the greater promise you held. Finally, he had found someone worth his future; to finally hold fertility within his palm and seep his pride further into the motherland, by the means of you. The hunt for an heir would soon be a distant dream, and that made him feel untouchable. So it was truly a shame to have wasted true beauty, to never be perfected, again and again, to never get it right. And that feeling pitted below his stomach returned, only nastier, until the mere sight of his wife sickened him. A barren creature deserved nothing, like yourself. Only to be forgotten, driven away, and never to be seen again, or so he told himself.

but did he mean it?

Broad shoulders hunch forward, firm arms pulling you closer to his center, shielding your body from the rain and chill bite of the air. It was a habit, one he couldn’t seem to shake, not when he wanted to hold you close and away from the world. In the distance, a low hum and rumble buzzed the skies, grey and dim of light. But even in this downpour, when your cheeks slightly stung from the cold, you loved it.

The man you’ve come to know, hardly enjoyed the cold, the rain, and the snow. He didn’t get why you did, but when he presses himself to you, his hand pulled against your waist, when he hugs you so tight that you can’t breathe, you find it hard not to chase the unforgiving frost. Because it’s the warmth of him that makes it worth it. And he knows, how you make the chase, with him on your heels, ready to cook you up like warm soup on a winter day. It makes it all the more easier to indulge in these feelings, to be tender for you and only you. He can’t deny the soft spot he holds in his heart for the woman who tore down his walls and built him back up, because Toji Fushiguro was in love, and everyone could see it, even him.

“I'm not going.”

"It is beneath me."

"Not anymore, not now."

"Be grateful anyone would want you."

He remembers the morning, of the conversation with his father. It gave him a headache, one that rang in his ear and made him clench his jaw in annoyance. The painful throb between his neck and shoulders reminds him of the exchange, that it's difficult not to think about. Since his separation from his second wife had become public news, Naobito became overbearing, the pressure of him everywhere practically suffocating Naoya. He had tolerated it, until today, until he had begun to trifle with the affairs of his relations. So, he stormed out, needing a fresh breath of air, something to calm him before he had the patience to see Naobito again.

This was not the first time he had suggested arranged marriage, in fact, he had done it before. He remembers the face of the man, presenting his best to appease him, to tie their clans in marriage, and form a peaceful alliance. He agreed, solely because the woman before him was no other he had seen before. Soft on the eyes, and as passive as a lap dog, one he once held the leash to. And it was a good marriage while it lasted, but this was not what his father had in mind.

"It is beneath me." He repeated, like a mantra. Like he was trying to convince himself.

The thought of asking for another's hand in marriage like some desperate whore was out of the question. If anything, women should be flocking to him, begging to be his, to serve and wait for his word. And yet, despite the files that piled his desk, drowning with portfolios and promises from regional clans and distant villages, he refused to look at any of them. Because the truth was, none of the women had a chance, not when their competition was you.

Naoya's mind had become muddled, always dazed, and now irrational. He couldn't explain why his throat closed when he thought of you, or how his chest drummed loudly at the mention of your name. But it was when you had appeared at his door those months ago, remarried and expecting, that the pit in his stomach churned with mixed emotions. Even as you are gone, cast away from his life and rebuilding it with another, he finds it difficult to move on.

Not when he sees the sight before him

thinking, how it was supposed to be him.

"Let me." Toji says.

His hands are already taking the tiny bundled-up blanket from your hold, but you don't protest, in fact, you find yourself leaning into his reach, sliding the soft fabric onto his chest. Your husband smiles, his face dipping against the swaddle, his lips ghosting over the soft skin of the baby's cheek. You find yourself drawn to his side, peering into his arms, at the life you had brought to his world.

"He looks like you."

"Everything is you." He says.

His eyes never leave the tiny face that gazes back at him, small outstretched hands clinging onto his jacket, reaching for the rough material before your husband is tucking them back into the woven blanket. His son resembled Toji, there was no mistake, but he found that there was more of his wife in the kid. He had your eyes, the exact color he had fallen for, his face carrying your distinct features too. His hair was the only thing that he seemed to take from his father, but you always argued with him on the matter. You were always so stubborn too, pushy when you had a point, and in a way, he was too. Your son was hardly any trouble for him, but he was definitely a mama's boy, Toji felt it. Still, he enjoyed moments like these, living in the moment, as long as you were here too.

There was a moment in time where he wasn't sure if he would make it this far if you hadn't been there. After the night you had given birth, there had been complications, bad enough to have scared him so much, shaking him to his core, that as he had waited outside the room, head buried in his hands as he tried to see a life without you, he couldn't. Beyond this point, these white walls and cold hallways, Toji didn't was to live a normal life if you weren't in it too. That was his honest truth. There was only one thing in the world that he feared the most, and that was losing you.

"Look at us." You smile.

Your voice pulls him from his thoughts as you nod to the glass window, the reflection in it mirroring the two of you as you stared at the portrait painted in the pane. Like one of those family paintings, with Toji standing tall behind your figure, your hand rested against his arm while he holds your son. It's an image you want to engrave into your mind forever.

But he wants to burn it.

He hardly ever leaves home, and if ever, only for meetings. But he's never been to town, his aversion to the modern adaptions people flock to keeping him away from the bright lights and expensive shops. All he ever needed was his quiet residence, but up until now, not even he can find peace within his own house. Walking the crowded strip, the concrete below his feet clicks against his shoes as distant chatter fills the air. It's no different than the whispers of his servants, but at least the strangers that fill the streets don't avoid him, rather, they pay no mind, continuing on. And maybe he kinda liked that, to be invisible for only a moment, to pretend he was a mere passerby and not Naoya Zen'in.

And sometimes he wished he was someone else.

Someone stronger, a man who was a little bit kinder, someone who was just a bit better than he could ever be. Maybe if he was, he wouldn't have to wake in the morning, reaching for the empty spot next to him, hoping that if he wished hard enough, you would be there, that in those cold sheets, warmth would linger for a moment.

But as his feet cement to the ground beneath him, his eyes transfixed to the opposite street, he finds himself swallowing his breath, stuck in his throat. The rain is still pouring, and thunder booms from the sky above, but he doesn't care that his clothes stick to his skin, he can't. Because something familiar claws at his chest, something distinct about the way that face hits him as he gazes from afar. The way his hair sticks out, his eyes angled, nose turned in such a way, he can see himself. But the longer he stares, the more he sees you, the way that smooth face flaunts your soft expressions. And he thinks to himself, how perfect it would be, if he was Naoya's, not Tojis.

People slip past him, hurrying to hide beneath the building canopys but he hardly cares, not as he is watching the striking woman from across the street. Her mouth moves, talking as she nestles her face against the small blanket, swaddled in her arms, the man beside whispering into her ear as they stand beside a shop, beneath the tent and away from the cold.

Naoya pretends it's him next to her, to be the man to tell her how pretty she looked with their baby, as she smiles bashfully when he slips an arm around her. He pretends that when you look at the man, it's him instead, when you tiptoe, pressing your soft lips against him, Naoya is the one kissing back. And when you pull away, smoothing his cousin's damp hair away from his face, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw, down to his chest so carefully, he imagines how it must feel. Because he remembers the time you did something so similar when the two of you rushed for cover beneath the cherry blossoms during a storm. And it's that exact sight, of you giving all of what you once shared with him, to someone who wasn't him, that grounds him back to his reality.

The truth, where you stood across the street, with Toji and your son, and here, where Naoya stood, alone, thinking to himself. Wondering if you could ever see him, that you would see that even a woman like yourself could bring a man like him to his knees, begging as he watched you walk away yet again, wishing;

that it wasn't Toji.

but him instead.

[beels-burger-babe]

I Burn For You

***So THIS has been stuck in my head all day and I just- I love it. I love it so much. And it reminded me...So you guys all know how I hate/love Lucifer...it gave me those vibes. So........... Well I haven't written anything actually relevant to The Facade of the Suitor or anything else that I've been procrastinating, I have been able to push out this little short inspired by this beauty of a duet that is EVERYTHING to me. -B***

Summary: Since MC's arrival, Lucifer and them have never fully gotten along. There was always a large, unknown and undiscussed tension between them and they were fine to keep it that way. But when MC's security in the Devildom is threatened by both the angels and the nobility of the Devildom itself, everything changes. As a ruse to persuade the celestial realm, MC and Lucifer wed. After the ceremony, they finally talk about the unacknowledged feelings burning inside of both of them.

MC x Lucifer

The air hung heavy and thick like the gold bands that now decorated both of your fingers.

You and Lucifer stood on opposite sides of the room, your backs facing one another with nothing but silence between you.

You couldn't help but reminisce on how you got here, on your supposed 'honeymoon' married to none other but the prideful, arrogant, avatar of sin, Lucifer Morningstar himself.

Diavolo had burst into the House of Lamentation an entire month ago. He desperately explained how the angels had received word about you through the fond, innocent-intending, stories of Luke and we're demanding that you be 'released' from your 'imprisonment in the infernal Devildom and that they wished to cleanse you of the 'hellish corruption' the demons had 'forced upon you' through your pacts. Wanting to avoid yet another Celestial War, even on a small scale, the noble court had wanted to agree and simply hand you over to them, cut your pacts, and banish you from returning as an act of agreement and co-operation with the angels.

Obviously, this didn't sit well with you or any of the brothers.

You had all tried to come up with a number of plans, but they all promised retaliation from the angels.

Eventually, it was Lucifer himself who begrudgingly came up with the final plan. The angels wouldn't believe you if you simply told them that you liked it here and wanted to stay. They'd think you were charmed or manipulated. However, if the two of you worked together, and pretended to be in a relationship, convince the angels of your 'genuine' feelings and prove to them that you were in love, and finalize this by marrying Lucifer, it just might work.

First of all, love was something that had sparked war in the past, that both sides had learned from and had grown to deeply treasure and value. Secondly, Micheal, head Archangel of the Celestial Realm, trusted Lucifer the most of all the brothers. The two of you could take advantage of that use it to convince him that you were actually safer in the Devildom by Lucifer's side. And finally, if you were willingly bound by marriage, there was very little that the Celestial Realm could do to force you to leave.

The plan wasn't terrible, but there was one thing about it that caused you to clench your fists and grind your teeth: it was with Lucifer.

Lucifer who constantly teased you and pushed your buttons in a way that he knew would cause you to either give in to him or snap.

Lucifer who was cruel and sadistic and did nothing unless there was some personal gain or it was under the demand of his precious Diavolo.

Lucifer who never ever put anything before his own stupid pride.

Though you were normally a calm and positive person, there was just something about Lucifer that had always caused an inferno of anger and rebellion to burn within you. You felt this strong need to constantly prove him wrong and to defy him.

As a result, the two of you consistently butted heads, arguing about Lucifer's treatment of his brothers and your recklessness on an almost weekly basis.

The idea of being chained to this...this demon for the rest of your mortal life caused your stomach to twist tightly into knots. Though, if it ensured you'd be able to stay with the rest of your found family? You'd make the necessary sacrifice.

So the two of you did the whole show. You went on dates, smiled and laughed together as though you were the lead roles in a Hallmark Christmas movie, and played every card in the book to convince the angels that you were safe and happy under the kind watch of your lover.

Those weeks had started off painful, as you pushed back all feelings of disdain for the eldest brother to play the role of the perfect partner. But as time passed, you hadn't noticed that it had become easier and easier to stay by his side. The smiles you gave him were no longer forced, but sincere ones that brought joy. The lines between what was real and what was fake began to blur.

You sealed the deal with your wedding only a few hours ago.

The vows Lucifer had spoken...promising to watch and protect you even as your skin wrinkled and your hair grew grey. To hold your hand and aid you when you no longer had the strength. To shower you in love and devotion even in your final hours.

They had been spoken with such passion and raw emotion that you didn't dare think too deeply about. It had caused your breath to catch in your throat, and you had to remind yourself that this was all an act. Soon the curtain would close, and Lucifer would return to the cold-hearted monster that you knew.

Yet even now, hours after the ceremony had finished, you couldn't get that intense gaze, and the sparks that exploded under your fingertips as his hands gently squeezed yours, out of your head.

Lucifer sighed from the other side of the room and glanced over at you. "Are we just going to continue ignoring each other?"

You scoffed and turned your head further away; ignoring the loud pounding of your heart and instead focusing on the flickers of frustration licking up your gut. "What else are we supposed to do? There's no one else around. The act is over."

You whirled around at his sarcasm and could practically feel the wrath blazing behind your eyes. "Sorry, my Lord, if I'm not exactly giddy about the fact that I just signed myself to the likes of you just for the approval of some fluffy winged assholes!"

You could practically hear Lucifer roll his eyes as he walked over to the liquor cart and poured himself a drink. "Right. So you just plan to spend the entirety of the weekend that Micheal paid for us brooding in a corner? How mature of you."

Lucifer, the fucker, had the gull to act unphased and casually swirled his drink in his hand. "It could be much, much worse," he took a sip of the amber liquid before staring down in his glass. "It's not as though you didn't agree to this."

"Only because I didn't want to be kicked out of the Devildom and never allowed to see your brothers again!" You growled. Your anger only grew as you noticed him clench his fingers tighter around the glass. You groaned and ran a hand through your hair. "This was a stupid plan! You probably just invented this entire ruse as yet another way to get under my skin. Well congratulations, Lucifer. You win!"

You refused to look at him, as you turned your heated gaze out the window.

You didn't see the flash of hurt that washed over his expression, nor hear the way his breath caught in his throat. "Is being married to me truly that awful? Are you honestly telling me that you haven't enjoyed even a single second of this past month?"

You tensed and crossed your arms over your chest, as you continued to avoid looking at him. "What kind of question is that? You're a demon who cares about nothing but himself," you pursed your lips and mentally tried to deny just how wrong those words felt on your tongue.

"I wouldn't say that's true. Believe it or not, I do care for my brothers." There was a shaky breath, one so uncharacteristic for the confident Morningstar, before he continued. "And you. I did promise to love you until your final breath after all, and I do not break my promises."

There was silence once again. Though this quiet seemed to crackle with the anticipation for something, though neither of you quite knew what.

You closed your eyes, refusing to acknowledge the flutter in your heart at his words. "Those vows were only part of the act. They weren't real."

"Perhaps not for you," your eyes snapped open at the response. You looked back at the demon. Lucifer stood leaning against the wall, drink still in hand, as he stared intensely at the floor. "This may have all been an act for you, MC, but it stopped being a ruse for me mere hours after we began."

You felt yourself frown as you stared at him. Your traitor heart dared to grow warm with hope, only adding fuel to the growing frustration inside you. "You're lying. You're just trying to get me worked up again."

"Actually, I'm not," his eyes met yours and it felt as though time froze. His expression was so unguarded, so honest. For once, you looked into his eyes and you could see every emotion that he wore openly before you. You could see the hurt, the certainty, and most of all the same passionate love that shone so brightly in them throughout the ceremony. "From the moment I met you, you caused a fire to ignite in my heart. I was determined to control you and to make you be the human representative for Diavolo. But then, you acted against me, and that changed. I still wanted to make sure that you fulfilling your purpose in the exchange program, but I took on the challenge of finally having you respect and listen to me. You were stubborn and fierce, yet so beautifully driven and I admired that." your eyes widened at the admission. "It wasn't until I was forced to look at you in a romantic light for this scheme that I understood the true nature of these feelings. It wasn't that I wanted to control you, or break you, or shape you into what I needed. It was so much deeper, so much more dangerous than that. I wanted to have you fall in love for me, as I had fallen for you, and make you mine."

He sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair. "I know you don't feel the same. I've accepted that. But I...I'm done with acting like this isn't real for me. I refuse to pretend that there's nothing there between us any longer."

He finally broke eye contact, looking back at his now empty glass as you practically gaped at him. Love. Lucifer...loved you? You gulped and took a step towards him, "Lucifer..."

The fire burning within you consumed you as your face heated up. "You...You love me? You actually love me?"

You flinched as he glared sharply at you. "Don't rub it in."

You didn't know what to make of that. You weren't sure what to make of any of this. Your feelings towards Lucifer had changed over the past month, but you had assumed that was simply part of the act. But if everything he had done and said as you two were pretending to be a couple was real, then what did that mean for you?

What did that mean for the way the sight of him caused your heart to skip? Or the way his rare smiles never failed to make you smile back? Or the unwavering sense of comfort and security that he provided?

What did that mean for the ruthless, scalding fire that he had always caused to rage inside you? You always assumed it was anger, but what if...

You gasped in realization. "I burn for you."

The demon tensed as he blinked in confusion. "You...I'm sorry, you what?"

You moved closer to him, each step more certain than the last, as you shakily spoke the words that rang through you. "I burn for you, Lucifer. I don't know entirely what it means myself, but ever since we met you've caused this irrational passion and drive to sear inside of me. I-I had always assumed it was hatred. You're so infuriating. Every word you speak does nothing but cause that fire to flare brighter within in. Every action leaves me filled with sparks of restless energy that won't be satiated until I combust at you," as you now stood nearly toe to toe with him, you grabbed his hand and placed it over your roaring heart. Hope flickered like a candle in the darkness of his black eyes. "I had thought that this couldn't be anything other than anger and hatred. I refused to believe even the possibility that it could be anything else. But this past month you...you were honest and almost kind and vulnerable. Your teasing didn't make me want to punch you, but rather made me laugh. You showed me a side of you that I didn't even know existed. I...I think-"

You were cut off by a finger on your lips. Lucifer looked down at you with a stern, cold expression. The action paired with that face would've caused you to become infuriated by his audacity and superiority complex in the past. But now you could see past it, and could see it for what it truly was: a carefully crafted barrier that hid his most vulnerable feelings and protected him. "If you do not mean the words you were about to say, if you are pitying me, I must demand that you stop here. Do not say those words unless you truly mean them," his deep voice was tinged with distrust and caution.

You held his gaze as you kissed the pad of the finger against your lips and whispered gently, "Lucifer, I think that I love you."

Suddenly your lips were captured in his as he pulled you close and ever so adoringly cupped your face. For the first time since meeting him, the flames inside you were extinguished by the cold touch of his hands on your face and the surprising gentleness of his affection.

His hand slid from your face and came to rest on your shoulder as his eyes widened. His gaze scanned your expression for any traces of falsehood or insincerity. You could hear the breath leave his lungs as he found none.

He softly kissed his temple, effectively hiding his face as it grew redder and whispered, "Of course, beloved."

Lucifer laughed as he pulled away, his thumb caressing your cheek, as he smiled. "To think it only took us getting married to realize it," you laughed as you felt happy tears prick the corners of your eyes. Lucifer sighed in content as rested his forehead against yours. "Remind me to send a thank you to, Micheal."

You hummed and nuzzled closer to him as you rested your head on his shoulder. "Forget Micheal. He's still an asshole as far as I'm concerned. Instead, focus on me. On us. I want to learn everything about you, about the real you," you smiled as he looked down at you with flushed cheeks. "My husband, Lucifer Morningstar."

You couldn't help but wonder how you had been so oblivious to your true feelings as a shiver ran down your spine and warmth spread throughout your chest simultaneously.

This honest and pure love between the two of you, was new, yet it felt so familiar, and it was abundantly clear to both of you that the depth of those feelings would only become clearer and clearer in time as the fires of your love only grew.

***Gasp. I actually finished something. Would you look at that. Well, I hope you guys enjoyed this little fic! Thank you so much for your support during my hiatus and for being so understanding. I love you guys! Thanks again for reading!***

Taglist: @thegrimgrinningghost @henry-and-the-seven-lords @satans-beloved-riv @cosmixbun @sufzku @lovelymushi @victoireshaven @obey-mes-treasure @kissed-by-a-dementor @yukihaie @justtiarra @mammoneybb @obeys-world @poly-bi-mf @armycandy10 @burrixino

[yoonpobs]

omg imagine ..... rival heirs tae and oc who outwardly hate each other but grew up living next to each other so they're the only constants in each other lives in the middle of the cameras and media 💀💀💀💀💀💀 HRORHDODBRODJ i imagine it to be angsty and super smutty 👀👀👀👀👀

"Quiet," he growls, purposeful and deep just like the way each thrust of his hips has you whimpering in the dark room.

"F-Fuuuck, Tae—"

"I said quiet," he snarls, reaching a hand to your cheeks as he squeezes it in warning, forcing your teary eyes to look up at him.

In the dim room, you barely make out his features but you recognise the way his brows furrow with the bead of sweat that drips down the side of his face. You notice the way his jaw is clenched, a signal that he's close—or frustrated—the lines between the two were blurred for you. Ever since this thing started.

"It feels so—fuck, p-please Tae," you mewl, fingernails scratching down his back as he pounds into you harder against the wall behind you.

"God, won't you fucking shut up?" he hisses, though you know his words aren't malicious. Frustrated, yes. You were too, but you were too drunk on pleasure to care. "Do you want us to get caught? Is that it? Fuck everything up?"

His words are low and intentional, a desolate reminder that you were not free. That freedom was never a choice for either of you. The choices you had were predetermined from birth. Your identity, your friends, your life—the people you wanted. You never had a choice.

"Fuckfuckfuck," you whimper, "Tae—please—I-I c-can't—"

You barely know what you're moaning for, especially when his eyes bore into your own and you force them open despite the tears that cling to your eyelashes. His free hand reaches in between your legs to capture the swollen bud between his fingertips as rubs with vigorous intent to send you over the edge. He didn't draw it out because he couldn't; the two of you were living on borrowed time.

"You gonna come for me?" he murmurs, lips pressed against yours as you gasp, feeling the coil in your stomach unravel at a dangerously quick pace.

"F-For you," you sob, fingers tugging at his hair as you return his hot, open-mouthed kisses. "Always for you."

He doesn't comment on your mid-confession. It's nothing new, yet every time it leaves your lips, in the same scenario, you feel his hips stutter, thrusts faltering ever so slightly as he shoves himself impossibly deeper in you. As if he was trying to make a home out of your body.

"Come on, beautiful," he says softly, and for the first time of tonight, and certainly not the last in a while, you look into his eyes. There's a painful feeling in your chest that returns tenfold, but pleasure overruns your rationale as he sends you over the edge, again. "Let me see you fall apart, yeah?"

You nod manically, walls fluttering around his shaft as both of your moans rise in harmony, echoing against the walls of the supply closet you shoved yourself into. Between the four walls and dusty apparatus, your feelings were honest, were valid.

With one last push and the heat of his lips against yours—you cum. Splotches of white paint your vision as you gasp, high pitched and breathless into his awaiting mouth while he murmurs words of encouragement to guide you through your euphoria. Your body heats with more than just his sweat-stained chest pressed against yours; it heats with how your heart ignites with long-suppressed desire, repression of a woman who's only ever had choices made for her.

"That's it," he croons, much gentler than how he had fucked you so good just moments prior. His actions are tender, like a lover who's promised you forever. You know that it's just an illusion, it's what he does best. "Beautiful."

The fall after amazing heights is the most painful. You hurt the most, bleed the hardest and remember the pain. It's searing. Yet, there's something about a memory so devastating that forces you back into situations that bring you to your demise. It's the adrenaline—it's the addiction.

When Taehyung slips out, as always, he helps you get dressed and suddenly it's cold and distant. Your dress is slipped over your body, covering the evidence of his hands on yours, and your heels make way to your feet once again.

It's quiet when the two of you dress, the echoes of your moans only remain a memory as your heart sinks further in the ocean of your emotions.

"I love you," you confess, and it's the first time you've said it out loud but the millionth time you've felt it.

His hand stop before it reaches the knob, and you know his answer before he even gives it to you.

"I'm taking over my father's position next week."

It's like cold water has been dumped over you, immobilising every one of your limbs as you're forced to stare at the back of his head, hair ruffled as the evidence of your secret affair. A rendezvous went bad, with one heart in while the other remains out of bounds. It's easy to say who is who.

"You—what?" you whisper, not wanting to believe it. Not wanting to trust the person you were taught your entire life to be wary about. The circumstance of his last name and yours being different. "You said—you said you would ..."

He would what? The secrets he's whispered in the middle of your heated moments? Driven by lust and desire and never logic?

"I lied," he shrugs, easily and unbothered as if your entire world wasn't falling apart. The look he sends you is unforgettable, to you at least. It's the one that forces your tears out. "I needed leverage."

His confession hurts more than yours. It's because you've somehow trusted that he would forgo the life he was born into for love—for the unlikely pairing that came out of this rivalry between your families.

He finally turns the knob, pausing briefly as you're stunned to silence, tears there but not quiet.

"You're just like your father," you say quietly.

You know it stings because Taehyung sucks in a deep breath.

"You became the one person you swore you'd never be."

The silence is unbearable. His response is even worse.

"See you in court," he bids you farewell like that, the remainder of his cum still dripping down your thighs.

And when you walk out, back into the crowd of socialites while champagne and diamonds are thrust into your face—you're forced to do the one thing you were born to do. Pretend.

Pretend that your world wasn't falling apart and that the man you loved was the man that would ruin your life.

Maybe, you should've listened. Maybe, there was a reason why you were taught to hate a Kim.

[ronnieiswriting]

Sweet Dreams- Boxer!Paz x Baker!Freader

Inspired by the events of Foul (following straight after) and the Boxer Din AU created and written by the wonderful, amazing, brilliantly talented @djarinsbeskar! WC: 1,641 Tags: 18+, mentions of smut, its a smutty AU ya'll know the drill, sickeningly sweet fluff I have been driven to write this to deal with all my Paz thots- it will become very clear that I make up for the fact that I can't write hot smut by writing the softest shit. Excuse the lack of editing, also, its quite the mess x

After Din had stormed off with his “not-girlfriend” at Avika, Paz was more than ready to go home right then and there, thoroughly unwanting to deal with the feral frenzy that Din had stirred up in and out the ring. But there was no doubt that there would be more calls for blood. And even if that weren’t the case- even if Din wasn’t on the lists tonight- Paz had to stay.

It was his job after all. And one he enjoyed more often than not.

But when he thought about you, Paz’s priorities became trivial- like dust in the wind.

He hadn’t been dating you for long but he already knew that he was in deep. To Paz, you were the one that hung the stars in the sky; you, a hardworking baker with a smile that made his heart ache and hips that made his cock twitch. It was love, the realest he’d ever found, and every day he swore his gratitude to whatever force had sent him to you.

It was almost a taunt to watch Din leave Avika with his “not-girlfriend” tucked into his side- he’d been disqualified from any more fights that night but he couldn’t look any less content about it- when Paz had to stay behind with nothing but the thoughts of you waiting for him back at his place to keep him company.

To pass a bit of time between the words that were being exchanged between Boba and Din’s opponent’s trainer, Paz checked his phone- his mood instantly brightened when he saw a notification from you.

From: Sugar Cookie💖

Hey babe, I just got home. Did you feed Kitty yet? He’s begging me for food rn but I know he’s probs got a full belly and is just being a little gobble guts lol. sent 4:13am

I gave him a tinyyy bit of kibble to hold him over in case you didn’t. Kitty knows I can’t resist him. Sorry for messaging you at work btw. I know you’re busy xx Love you xx sent 4:19am

Paz checked the current time. 5:30am. Shit. He must’ve missed the buzz of the notification amidst the chaos. Usually, your shifts at the bakery ended closer to midnight but he knew you to be a hard worker, proud of the bakery you ran by yourself, and always likely to get caught up in a task until it was done to a high standard. It was just another thing for Paz to love about you.

His thumbs hovered over the reply box; you had probably already gone to bed, exhausted from your own long day of work. He couldn’t bring himself to disturb you but he pushed past that doubt a second later, typing out a response, softened when he reread your messages about his kitten.

“Vizsla!” Boba’s voice pulled him back into reality. “Are you listening at all? This does concern you.”

Paz managed an easy half-lie, fingers tapping away as he switched contacts and began typing another message, “I’m sending Din a text- trying to figure out what started all this.”

…

When Paz finally did get home it was pushing 8am. Expecting to find you curled up in his bed, comfortably asleep, he was shocked to see you as soon as he opened the door to his apartment. You were propped up against a wall of cushions on his couch with a book resting in your lap and his kitten snoozing on your chest. Head thrown back and peacefully still, he could tell you were fast asleep.

Just the sight of you, the shape of your body outlined by the drape of the blanket that was thrown over you, your features illuminated by the warm light of the lamp, the splay of your hair over the pillows- just looking at you relieved him of so much of the stress he had carried home. His eyes traced over your form, picking out the dip and curve of your hips, and he was struck again with the amount of love he had for you. He still couldn’t believe how quickly he had developed such deep feelings for you but that fact made them no less sincere. The softness and simple intimacy (whether that be primarily sexual or emotional) that your company alone promised never ceased to amaze him.

Trying to be as quiet as he could manage, Paz shut the door behind him, put his backpack down by the door, and crossed the room to kneel down at your side. He considered leaving you there for the rest of the night- if he did he could go take a nap and then come back and wake you up by eating you out before making you breakfast- but ultimately he wanted to, needed to sleep next to you… and he couldn’t manage that on the couch.

He got the best sleep when you stayed the night, your chest made a far better pillow and your arms though relatively small provided him with so much warmth that he would be more than content to sleep without any covers (which happened sometimes when you hoarded the blankets).

Paz let out a silent sigh and reached out to stroke the hair away from your face. You stirred in response and he leaned in to press a kiss to your nose, “Hey, baby, it’s just me.”

You let out a soft moan, eyes scrunching up before blinking open, looking up at him blearily, “Paz~”

His heart could have burst at the sound of your gentle voice laden with sleep. Carefully so as not to disturb your place, Paz eased the book from your fingers. The exhaustion was palpable on your face, the weight of many hours of work pulling at the edges of your eyes. “I thought you’d be in bed by now.”

You eased yourself up on the cushions, one hand bracing the kitten against your chest. “I wanted to stay up for you. I didn’t mean to doze off.” Fuck. Paz was slipping his arms under you faster than you could process and when he stood you were tucked against his chest, kitten, blanket and all. You didn’t even seem bothered by the shift, curling your fingers into the neckline of his shirt. The simple touch drove him wild- the burn of your warm skin against his throat like a blowtorch- and the fact that you seemed oblivious to that only made him ache for you more.

When he had gotten you halfway to the bedroom you spoke again in that voice that threatened sleep, “I would've been able to stay up for you if I didn’t have to spend three hours on a last minute order for a wedding cake.”

Paz opened the door with his hip. “You don’t have to say yes to every job you know.”

“I know- but the couple was so sweet, I couldn’t say no. Plus they paid me double and half on top because of the short notice.”

He laid you out on the bed and replaced the throw blanket with his thick quilt, kitten moving to curl up beside your head on the pillow. The comfortable setting was luring you quickly to sleep again but you were still determined to see him next to you before you shut your eyes again fully. When he didn’t immediately join you, you frowned.

Paz eased the crease in your brow with a kiss there, “Don’t pout, sweetheart. I just gotta take a shower.” He could have skipped one for now, knowing you wouldn’t protest his sweaty skin, but he wanted to be rid of the flecks of blood that had stuck to him, everything that had stuck to him from that ring, before he touched you. You started to protest but Paz silenced you with a searing kiss to your lips, “I won’t be long, I promise.”

If he had thought you would be back asleep by the time he finished he was fooling himself. You scooched backwards on the mattress and petted the space you made in front, “come here.”

Paz went willingly, instantly. He eased back the covers and shuffled in next to you, clad only in a pair of boxers, hands instantly finding your skin to greedily palm the warmth that radiated from you. You cozied up to him just as naturally, arms wrapping around his neck so that he could tuck his face against the crook of your neck. With the covers pulled over the both of you, Paz felt surrounded by your presence and it calmed any remaining stress he had.

Although he had reprimanded Din for taking a violent approach to defending a woman’s honor, Paz couldn’t deny the fact that he’d be just as likely to take a similar action if anyone spoke about you like that- just thinking about those vile, entitled words directed at you made his jaw clench subconsciously. And yet just as soon as that anger stirred up in him, it dissipated again, soothed by the thump of your heart against his chest and the delicate fan of air you puffed over his damp skin.

He was reminded of the first time he told you he loved you; not long ago, in the middle of a good hard fuck when he had you by the hip, lost in the emotion of your eyes to the point where his confession had come out as a babble that became a mantra that he punctuated with each thrust of his hips. You had been on the verge of tears then, overstimulated and shaking, when you returned the words to him from your own lips: I love you too.

“I love you.” Paz whispered.

You snuggled against him tighter, a sleepy sigh escaping you when his hands ran up and down your sides. “I love you too.”

[hqcult]

21ST ## the miya twins

you visit hyogo to celebrate your 21st birthday with your extended family. you met atsumu and osamu, who were oh so excited to meet you.

. tw manipulation, pseudo-incest, noncon, cunnilingus, masturbation, exhibitionism, voyeurism, mindbreak, implied double penetration, dark content . wc 4.3k

looking back, the twins are good fucking actors. they deserve some oscar-level award with how much they smiled those sweet honey smiles and lured you into a sense of security before baring their fangs and pulling you down to hell with them. but they never would’ve gotten the chance to act if you hadn’t been there as their audience. so, the truth remains the same—this is all your fault. you never should’ve insisted coming to hyōgo in the first place.

ever since getting adopted at the tender age of thirteen and moving to tokyo, you’ve seen everything there is to see, ate at every restaurant with a 5-star review on google. you’ve done them all at least thrice by now and it’s getting boring.

so, when your adoptive father had jokingly talked about coming to hyōgo to meet your extended family for your 21st birthday, you perked up in your seat and your eyes twinkled like stars. 

your mom didn’t want to go at first, of course, claiming you’ll get carsick but your parents eventually gave in after seeing the pleading look in your eyes and the genuine excitement in your stance.

long story short, you did end up getting carsick. quite a few times too, actually. but you were already driving along the expressway and your mom’s sister was already expecting the three of you. so, naturally, you guys pushed through, your dad making sure he drove as smoothly as possible in order not to trigger another barfing session from you.

it was twilight by the time your dad pulled up on his sister-in-law’s driveway and the first you see were two identical faces—twins? for step-cousins? well, now that was something. you’ve never really met twins before so it was a whole new experience and it excited you greatly. 

not to mention how you and atsumu instantly hit it off, your personalities aligning. yet when you sat next to osamu during dinner, the younger twin found it wasn’t as hard talking to you compared to his brother. in fact, he found it interesting how easy it was to converse with you, the words flowing out his lips. you were just so painfully compatible with them that why oh why did the universe have to make you their half-cousin?

the shift in their behavior wasn’t at all gradual but can you really blame them? you were such a good daughter, such a beauty. and they guess the whole ‘pseudo-incest’ taboo thing amplified your appeal all the more. 

well, at least in their defense, atsumu and osamu genuinely wanted to get to know their new cousin in the most innocent, platonic way and not this weird thing they’re feeling right now. but you were so damn irresistible that they couldn’t keep their feelings in check.

how kind of ‘samu to grab the coffee container at the topmost shelf for you during breakfast, not knowing he purposely puts it there every night so he can “accidentally” rub his morning wood against your ass.

your ‘tsumtsum is such an angel when he doesn’t hesitate to take off his outerwear and lends it to you whenever you forget yours, not knowing he snatches them from the laundry basket and leaving you no choice but to use his. the sweet scent you leave on the jacket is enough to throw him off the edge and have him climaxing as he fucked his own hand.

nobody noticed, everyone was distracted by their achievements at such a young age. all their mom had to say is how osamu yet again made it to dean’s lister or how atsumu got scouted for a national team.

your mom and dad didn’t notice, lost in the daydream of always wanting to have their own son only to end up with you. blinded of their dazzle that the rotten pieces of them were fully camouflaged by the glow.

it all came to a peak when the twins were pulling all-nighter playing games like always. 

atsumu needed to use the restroom, and just as he’s passing by your door, he heard a questionable sound that made him stop, frozen and unbelieving.

carefully, he tiptoes closer to place his ear against your door, praying to whomever that the floorboards don’t creak and disrupt whatever you’re doing. silence, seconds of it. then click, a switch turning on, he hears low vibration and a shaky whimper, a slick sound that reminded him of—

you were touching yourself.

holy fucking crap.

atsumu can only stare at the door with a knowing curl in his lips as he quickly pushes down his boxers. the risk of getting caught masturbating so out in the open making all the blood rush south.

“guess yer not as innocent as i thought ya were,” he mutters, spitting on his palm before wrapping it around his dick.

he shut his eyes close, clinging desperately into the imagination of how it would feel like to fuck your cunny instead of his hand. how the view would be like as he forces your legs up and into a mating press as he rutted his hips into you. at least you were loud, the moans he can hear as clear as day and he’s thankful he needn’t depend on his imagination anymore like all the other times.

you better be fucking thankful that the rest of the rooms were downstairs or else your parents and their mom would’ve heard by now. eh, atsumu didn’t mind. he got off on the risque idea of getting caught in the act.

when your pitch grows whinier and he hears your quick rufflings on the bed, he knows you’re close. he can hear the frantic and changing levels of the vibrator as you fucked it into your walls. 

“fuck,” he hissed, the mental image of you masturbating and putting on a show for him making him teeter over the edge.

he grunts, low and animalistic, as spurts of his cum stains his hands and the floor. he didn’t care. he pumped himself through his orgasm and it was the best he’s ever got in a while. who knew all he needed to hear was his little step-cousin lewdly touching herself? naughty, naughty girl.

when he heard your panting after cumming against your little toy, he took his cue and speed-walked towards his and osamu’s bedroom to get a cloth he’ll use to clean the front of your door. but just as he caught you in the act, he caught his own brother red-handed, too.

the tiny specks of cum on the wall where osamu stood is a ghastly sight but atsumu couldn’t care less. 

silently, the twins exchanged a knowing glance.

“ya heard ‘er too?”

someone knocks on your bedroom door on the eve of your birthday. 

osamu was tasked to wake you up while atsumu started the car. you didn’t respond. were you… he slowly opens the door, he spots you immediately in the bundle of blankets atop your bed. when he stalks closer, you looked so cozy that osamu almost got tempted to ditch the idiot and come snuggle with you under the blankets instead. 

but he has two heads and the one he’s using to think is located south.

he wakes you up with a gentle shake on the shoulder. “‘samu?” you mutter, voice low and croaky from your deep sleep when you see a blurry tousle of gray hair.

“let’s do a countdown for yer birthday, angel. come on, put on a jacket. ‘tsumu’s already startin’ up the car.”

osamu’s blunt nails dug half-moon crescents into his palms as he saw your tiny pajama shorts and the slip top when you shoved the blankets away. he swore his palms would’ve bled, especially after seeing you bending over to look for a hoodie inside your luggage. 

he stared so openly, it was almost predatory in a sense. 

as you scamper down the stairs with the younger twin’s hands dangerously grazing the top of your rear, you thought it’s plain old protective ‘samu being worried you’ll make a misstep and break your neck.

“where’s everybody?”

“just us three, angel. ‘lil cousin bonding before yer big party tonight, y’know?”

you giggled. how sweet, you thought.

you didn’t sense a thing. didn’t see a single red flag even if it was being waved across your face like what they do in bullfights. osamu felt a little sorry for how they’re blatantly manipulating you but it’s too late to back out now, much less let the guilt eat up his insides. he shouldn’t be a hypocrite considering he jacked off to your moans, too, that night. 

he’s really no different than atsumu and it’s a tough pill to swallow.

“shotgun!”

it wasn’t osamu that stops you, but atsumu, from scampering into the front seat. the older twin quickly locks the door before lowering down the passenger side’s window. 

“nuh-uh, birthday girl. ya can’t sit here or the surprise’ll be ruined!”

you grumble, frowning as you scoot yourself in the backseat of the car. atsumu twists his torso towards the back, asking you to wear the blindfold he’s handing you. it was a little tough with how stubborn you are but ‘tsumu’s just too good with his words.

you drove for thirty minutes before the car pulled up somewhere. the world is tranquil outside, so you couldn’t have driven to the nearest city. your initial guess is a beach, but there were no splashes of water. maybe a cliff-side or a forest?

the car’s ignition turns off and you call out to the twins. 

“‘tsumu? ‘samu? where are we? can i take my blindfold off now?”

“just a moment, doll.” there’s an excited lilt to atsumu’s voice and you can’t help but fidget in your seat, feeling the excitement crawling up your spine as you think of what their surprise could be.

you hear them clamber out the car. you scoot closer to the door just as the backseat opens, a silly smile on your face. “you guys didn’t have to do this, you know, but i appreciate it so mu—”

someone tackles you to the seat and the air gets knocked out of your lungs. he’s heavy and you felt the muscles underneath his shirt as you tried to push him away but to no avail—you know it’s a man, it has to be because you felt the broad shoulders and something poking at your thigh. you feel him nosing the side of your neck and his hands crawling under your shirt. his freezing skin against your own is what snapped you out of it.

“atsumu! osamu!” you cried, calling for help.

you inwardly gasped, realizing something. maybe they were hurt! maybe your assaulter had creeped up behind the twins just as they opened the door for you, knocked them out cold, before trying to have their way with you. at the thought of the twins getting hurt, you thrashed, fought, and screamed with newfound fervor.

“couldja calm down and shut yer fucking trap?”

when the blindfold flies away and you see the man straddling you on the backseat of atsumu’s car, how you wished your assaulter had never taken it off.

atsumu had never looked this scary from your point of view, then again he never straddled you like this in the weeks prior. never looked at you like how he’s looking now—there’s clear hunger and lust in those eyes. you’ve seen that look one too many times from boys back in your university when you had your one night stands. but it had all been consensual and you loved them looking at you that way but this is different.

so, so different.

you can’t look at him in the eye, not when he’s staring at you like that. it felt like you’re pushed into a corner, vulnerable and bare even with the clothes you’re wearing.

“please, get off of me.”

“get off ya?” he repeats, mirth in his eyes as he hauls you up to a sitting position. he finally shuts the door behind him. “but i’ve been wantin’ to do this for weeks.”

to further emphasize his point, he grounds his hips against yours, making sure the tip of his already erect cock grazes against the bud of your clit. his boxers and the thin fabric of your shorts isn’t helping. he groans wantonly, angling his hips to do it again until you slipped out from under him and maneuvered your way to the other door.

osamu! osamu will stop him, you thought with teary eyes as atsumu growls and quickly pulls you back by the forearms, your back to his chest as you try to claw your way out of the athlete’s grip.

“‘samu! ‘samu, help me!”

but when the said twin opens the door and slips inside the car with little to no surprise present in his face, a type of fear you’ve never felt before runs up your spine. the look in osamu’s eyes reflected that of his twin’s and with sinking realization, you knew he wasn’t there to help you.

“happy 21st birthday, angel.”

and then he’s ducking down to kiss you. his lips are soft and they moved tenderly, in contrast to the barbaric way they tore at your clothes, the cold making you shiver in your underwear.

dealing with one sick person is enough, but with two, you’re not so sure. you only had two hands, if you pushed osamu away, atsumu would have free access and vice versa. your legs couldn’t move either, thanks to the cramped space of the backseat.

while holding down your hands, atsumu marks every inch of untainted skin he could see as osamu swirls his tongue inside your mouth. you’ve never felt so disgusted and dirty, but above all, betrayed. even if it was a few weeks since you’ve met, you still saw them as family. sure, you weren’t technically blood-related but in the papers it’s a different story.

when osamu pulled away, you averted your eyes but his hand reached up to hold your chin, forcing your eyes to meet. you feel his other hand trailing up your thighs, fingers dangerously close to your clothed sex as he watched you like a fox. he wanted to commit this moment to memory. every twitch and small gasp you make as his cold fingers pinched at your clit and traced your pussy lips.

“staying quiet, princess?” atsumu comments, hands snaking around front to squeeze and grope your breasts over the bra you wore. “ya weren’t like this when i caught ya touchin’ yerself last week.”

your eyes widened. when you tried turning your head to look over your shoulder towards the other twin, osamu shoved two fingers inside you.

your reaction was immediate. the pleasure and pain mixing as a loud gasp escapes your lips. “eyes up front,” he murmurs, the firm hold on your chin going higher to encase your whole jaw.

“oi, ‘samu, didn’t think you’re the possessive type,” atsumu says, teasingly placing his chin on your shoulder as he smiles that lazy smile you know osamu hates. “not that i’m going to lose.”

the older twin slips your bra off just as osamu takes his fingers out to lewdly lick up your slick. he moans, keeping his eyes trained on your horrified face. “sweet. but not wet enough for us, angel.”

“what—no—!”

“let me have a go.”

before you could even react, atsumu’s spinning you around to face him as he shoves your shoulders down. due to the cramped space, your head collides with osamu’s thighs, narrowly missing the tent in his joggers. the weight in his thighs makes the younger twin fidget and squirm as he hastily reaches for your hand, pulling his bottoms down just enough for his cock to spring out. you wince when it hits the side of your face. osamu loved the disgust in your face when he spat at your hand and used it to get himself off as he started stroking his cock.

meanwhile, in one swift motion, atsumu is pulling your panties down and licking a stripe up your cunny, the tip of his tongue prodding at your clit as his hands come up to slap your pussy. “how dare ya be so quiet,” he hisses, sucking harsher on your clit to pull a reaction out of you. “let me hear ya whine and moan, babe. i’m fuckin’ sure as hell my tongue is better than some cheap ass vibrator ya used.”

but your lips are stubbornly sealed as you arched your back. like hell you’d play into their wants and sick fantasies. they were your cousins! forcing you to enjoy this is just downright wrong. and knowing they’ve eavesdropped and silently lusted over you while having those innocent little smiles on their faces… were they not in the least bit guilty for deceiving you? deceiving your parents?

“give ‘er somethin’ bigger. i think she’s askin’ for it.” osamu says, kneading one of your breasts and tweaking your nipples as he continued to pump himself using your hand. 

because he lost to rock paper scissors, he’s going to fuck you after atsumu and no matter how furious he was, a deal’s a deal.

like an idea switching inside his head, atsumu falters, staring right at you with sparkles in his eyes before his lips curled into a devious smirk.

“no, no, no,” you scramble, trying to sit up in order to push him away but osamu is quick to pin you down. “atsumu—no—you don’t want to do this, please—!”

“shut it, princess. i know what i want and that’s to fuck yer sweet little cunny right ‘ere,” he mocks by planting a sweet kiss against your lower lips.

“can ya stop with the dirty talk my dick’ll go soft, ya scrub!” osamu hisses, his hands wrapped around yours getting tighter as the lewd sounds of his slick gets louder. 

no matter how much osamu denies it, he’s getting off on seeing you squirming under atsumu and god he never thought to have a voyeurism kink but here we are.

atsumu shoves his boxers down and you turn away from glancing down at his cock, osamu had to ruthlessly pull your hair and make you look as you slowly start tearing up. he was bigger than most guys you’ve met in college and you dread the painful stretch it’ll take for him to shove that dick inside you.

“shh, princess. don’tcha worry, yer all prepped to take me.” he scissors your pussy lips, the sticky wetness creating lewd sounds before pushing his stained fingers into your mouth. “hear that? go on and taste yerself.”

he gave you no choice, fingers pushing your tongue down until you obliged to his wishes. from behind you, you hear a low grunt and a pant as osamu throws his head back. he was close, you could tell and you surely didn’t want your face to be near his cock once he cums.

“‘tsumu, god damn it! hurry and fuck ‘er already!”

osamu was close and his mind was clouded. he needed to see you get railed in order for him to teeter towards that delicious edge of pure ecstasy. needed to hear the noises like the ones you made that night.

“i got it, i got it. fuckin’ impatient bastard.”

“atsumu, stop—!”

but he doesn't bother to listen, pushing his cock deep all in a single thrust. you were right. the stretch slightly stings and you bet it would’ve hurt more had he not bothered to suck and lick at your pussy earlier. “it hurts,” you sob, trying to curl in on yourself while keeping atsumu from leaning in.

but your strength is no match for him as he peppers light kisses down your neck, osamu helping with pushing your hair away to expose more skin. “shh, shh,” the faux-blond coos. “it’ll get better, i promise ya. yer gonna love it so let me move, okay?”

“no, wait, take it out, wai—!”

he starts thrusting, timed and rhythmic as his hands reach under your thighs, slightly raising your lower body to meet the angle of his hips. you couldn’t deny that it felt good like he said. the heavenly drag of his dick inside your walls, feeling you squeeze around him just as he nearly pulls out, only to thrust it all back in again. he wanted to keep this “making love” pace as long as he wants but he’s getting irritated but how you still wanted to keep your pretty lips shut.

that’s when you truly felt the vehicle jolting back and forth, brought by the sudden way atsumu manically fucks you like some animal. the change of pace surprised you greatly, choking on your saliva and letting out a pornographic “ah!” as he started railing you in the backseat of his car. you were way past the point of no return as immense pleasure spiked your nerves. all thoughts of somehow fighting their advances being shot out the window.

“that’s it,” atsumu pants, swinging your legs up against your chest to fuck you even deeper. “come on, make some noise, princess. i want people to hear how good i make ya feel even if they’re miles away.”

after all this is over and the lustful haze they forced you under is gone, you’ll regret the way you moaned and groaned and whined like how you’re doing now. embarrassing, how even as atsumu leans closer to kiss you, you don’t push him away. a mess of saliva and sweat mixing as his pace doesn’t relent and the fierce jolts of the car only adds up to your pleasure.

“‘tsumu!” you screamed, one hand holding onto his hair and the other scratching at his back. “i’m close—shit!”

he replies with a moan of his own, drawn out and whiny, feeling your walls suffocating his cock as he continues to drive it in and out with a speed you’ve never experienced with your past rendezvous. perks of being an athlete, you guess. “don’tcha dare fuckin’ cum until i tell ya to or else.”

but that little devil is making it harder for you to obey him as one of his hands snakes in between your bodies to start toying with your clit, drawing firm circles and figure 8’s to draw in that eventual release. “no, no, ‘tsumu don’t!” you tried reaching down but his hand only tugs it back, firmly holding your wrist as he continues his ministrations.

it’s too much. you were feeling it all too much and in the heat of the moment, you forgot everything else—you arch your back and felt your climax crashing over you as your cum steadily makes a mess off the backseat with every thrust atsumu made.

he stops.

his head hangs low, looking at the view of your interconnected bodies before scoffing in disbelief. menacingly, he raises his head to make eye contact with you. “didn’t i fuckin’ tell ya to cum only if i tell ya to cum?”

the faux-blond grabs at your hair, ruthlessly tilting it back as you feel a sticky sensation running down your nether lips. you shake your head, eyes wide like a deer in headlights.

“but—!”

“i don’t care. i warned ya, didn’t i? so don’t fuckin’ hate me after all this is over.”

suddenly you feel your fight surging through you again like a tidal wave. this is wrong. how dare they do it even after you said no. how dare they do it and make you enjoy it?

“aw, cute. angel’s still got some fight in ‘er left.”

you thrashed against atsumu as soon as he swiftly pulls out of you. he doesn’t even break a sweat while restraining you with his bare hands.

“let me go! you fuckers! i’ll tell—”

“tell who? our parents? this isn’t elementary school, princess. ya get what ya fuckin’ deserve and it’s not our fault ya like swingin’ that pretty ass so much.”

you growl as a retort, attempting to bite atsumu’s hand off as he swiftly spins you around to lay on your stomach. you cringe, feeling your sticky essence against your skin. you didn't have time to feel humiliated, not as you came face to face with osamu’s still erect and angry dick.

you weren’t dumb, you knew why the faux-blond made you face his twins’ way—this is to be your punishment, he said, all the while feeling him scramble about behind you. it wasn’t only ‘til you feel atsumu’s tip prodding at your ass did you realize what’s going to happen.

“go on and give our ‘samu a nice suck, yeah? put on a show and if ya dare use yer teeth, i’ll personally make sure ya regret ever coming to hyōgo.”

you came back at dawn, during the sunrise. it’s glow basking the whole house in a nice orange tint. “what are you guys doing up so early?” your mom asks when she sees the three of you piling in from the front door.

she was too busy rubbing the sleep out of her eyes that she missed everything—the way osamu’s oppressive arm wrapped around your shoulder got tighter, the way atsumu gave you a nasty side eye, and especially the fearful expression on your face.

“no - nothing, mom. they just wanted to have a birthday countdown for me.”

“oh, right! happy 21st, sweetheart.”

[levicanpunchme]

I love your writing so much 😭😭😭 can I request ReaderxLevi they’re married after the war and treated Falco and Gabi as their owns? thank youuu

A/N: Thank you😭 I’m sorry this is a little late but I was procrastinating so much. I hope you like it ❤️

———————————————————————

Levi X Y/N

Genre: Romance/Fluff/Tiny Angst

Warning: Major Manga Spoilers ⚠️

Lucky To Be Alive

The kitchen was bathed in bright orange, soft strokes of wind travelling through the window, swaying against your frame. There was a distant sound of birds murmuring but it was overpowered by the bubbling of water. You were currently making tea for your husband, just the way he liked. He had taught you his intricate method of brewing tea, so specific that he strongly recommended boiling water on the stove and not a microwave. His tea tasting skills were so sharp, he could tell the difference in taste immediately. You knew because you had tried tricking him once.

You were pouring the steaming water into the cup when muscular arms wrapped around your waist, embracing you. You didn’t flinch because you recognised your husband’s scent immediately but froze in between your actions when you felt his body’s warmth against yours.

It was too warm-the kind where you assumed he had been sitting in the depths of hellfire for hours.

“Levi, why’re you so hot!” You screeched, dropping the strainer as you looked over your shoulder, horrified. You met his silver gaze looking at you in a daze. His lips then curled into a dizzying smile and he chuckled like he was drunk, catching you off guard.

“Why thank you for noticing-isn’t it a little too late for a confession. I’m already married to you,” his words abrasively slurred, his head lolling into your neck and his eyes glinting as if he was actually losing his marbles.

You quickly turned in his arms which were still fastened around your waist and gasped at the sight. The rim of Levi’s nose and his cheeks were stained red, his narrow eyes squinting more than usual. You anxiously placed your hands on his jaw, cupping his oval face. The touch burned your palms. You frowned, your heart palpitating. “Levi, you’re burning up,” you frantically muttered. “I think you’ve caught a fever.”

He stared at you silently for a moment and then his gaze flicked in realisation. He nodded. “Ah, I was wondering why my body feels like someone threw me into a cauldron to cook me up,” he rasped, lightheartedly.

You didn’t laugh. You pushed his arms away, earning a groan from him, which you ignored. You grabbed his hand, pulling him along with you. You noticed Levi didn’t fight your hold and your concern grew larger, realising, he probably didn’t have the strength to disobey. You headed to your bedroom and sat him down on the sheets.

“No, I’m tired of laying around,” he rasped. “Let’s go to the new amusement park you wanted to visit so badly,” he suggested and you looked at him like he had grown two heads.

“You don’t even like amusement parks,” you muttered, reminded of the time when he called them too loud and social.

“Yeah, but you like them.” Your heart fluttered at the softness in his tone. He always acted too tough but was unknowingly the most expressive man you knew.

“I’ll get you some tea. Lay down,” you urged, pushing at his toned chest. Unwillingly, he persisted your motion but when you glared daggers his way, he cowered like a young boy and laid down, his head resting against the headboard. You eyed him narrowly once again, silently warning him to stay in place and then hurried to the kitchen, hoping tea was still warm.

You touched the rim of the handle and flinched at the burning sensation it left on your fingers. Relieved, you placed the cup on a saucer and jogged back into the room. Levi was sat upright, his eyes shut and breathing heavy. You approached him in the blink of an eye, giving him the freshly brewed tea.

“It’s exactly the way you like it,” you whispered, a concerned smile uplifting your lips. He surveyed the cup and then brought it up to his pale lips to drink. You patiently waited for his reaction.

He was silent for a moment, but you could tell he liked it because he was already sipping some more and more. You still waited for his praise. Levi had praised you for everything but your tea making and at this point, it was an obstacle you had to conquer- to feel the taste of sweet victory as you finally marked this off your checklist.

“It’s darker than normal.”

You wanted to smack him so bad. Your fists clenched in annoyance as you rolled your eyes at him; no matter how great of a tea you made, he would always have something to add against it.

Levi, on the other hand, sat grinning as he sipped more of the simmering tea. His inner conscience was telling him to confess the truth, the truth being that the tea was fucking beautiful-just the way he liked, perfect colour, temperature and flavour but he wanted to tease you and watch the feisty glow inside your irises bloom.

You restrained from throwing a tantrum over his lies, all your attention driven towards another issue at the moment: Levi’s health.

“Levi, it doesn’t seem like you’ve caught a cold. Have your wounds been infected again?” You worriedly placed your hand on his free one, feeling the feverish heat radiating off his body.

It had been five years since the battle of heaven and earth, five years since Levi Ackerman lost fragments of his soul into the greatest turmoil of humanity. During the battle, your allies were brutally killed-murdered, yet the whole time, you prayed for his safety. He was in no position to fight but you knew he couldn’t back away. There were things only the greatest solider of this era could’ve achieved.

Levi‘s skin was a canvas of his pain; the wounds were deeply carved into his skin, telling the story of a solider who fought with all his might. His beautiful face was struck in the middle from a sharp blade, a large scar embedded in the right side of his face, elongating all the way to his eye. The mound around his ears was burned and tore off due to immense heat exposure. This was just the tip of the iceberg: Levi’s body was scarred thousand times over.

Levi didn’t answer immediately. He took his time, ingesting the last two sips. Then he placed the cup on the side table and stared into your eyes. “I’ve survived countless wars. A mere fever won’t kill me,” he said expressionless, making your guts twist in agony.

You feigned ignorance like his comment didn’t just dig at your heart. If that was his way of comforting you, then damn he sucked at it.

“I’ll make you some stew,” you told him and stood up to leave but he quickly grabbed your wrist, pulling you back.

“No, stay with me,” his eyes reminded you of the time when everything finally ended, when the rumbling stopped and the war was won. At that time, he didn’t look like he had won anything. Levi had battled against Titans all his life but when, the curse of the Eldians had faced its destruction, Levi’s grey orbs were faraway, in another land.

Your body tightened in concern and you sat back down on the bed, beside him. He held your hand, surveying you, and traced his thumbs along your knuckles.

The silence was suddenly interrupted when you heard heavy footsteps hit your porch. You looked at the main door in anticipation and then the sound of a bike’s ringing resounded. The door opened hurriedly and at first you caught sight of brown hair swaying and then in rushed Gabi. You smiled as she came rushing inside.

“Y/n!” She dashed inside, the aroma of freshly baked cookies diffusing into the room. The petite brown-haired devil was now an honourable soldier of the country.

Five years ago, if someone had told you that you’d be visited by a Marley warrior, you’d have called them crazy. However, after the war it was like living in a new world. Marley, despite their reluctance, were forced to forgive and forget. It was the only way out for the remaining 20% of humanity to not fall into extinction. Intermarriages between Marley and the Eldians grew rapidly after the revival of earth. It took years but things had finally begun to settle.

“Oi, how’d this brat get in?” Levi narrowly stared at Gabi, his eyebrow arched in scepticism. Gabi glared at him, her brown eyes glinting with annoyance. “The door was open,” she muttered.

“Weren’t you here like yesterday?” Levi again said nonchalantly and you stared at him wide eyed, giving him the ‘shut up’ look.

Gabi clenched her fist frustratedly. “I’m not here for you grouchy pants,” she yelled and then turned towards you, ecstatically. “Y/n, I’ve brought you cookies from the new bakery that opened on our street,” the wide eyed girl cheered, handing you the bag of goods.

“I love cookies! Thank you so much Gabi!” You graciously smiled, ruffling her hair.

“I told her you liked them.” You heard a silvery voice from behind and turned to see Falco, against the wooden door, holding his baseball cap in one hand as he smiled. The scared little boy who’s biggest dream was to marry Gabi was now an aspiring baseball player.

“Oi, who told you she likes cookies,” Levi’s threatening voice emerged and poor Falco shrunk against his cold gaze. You rolled your eyes at your husband.

“Well, I-uh-I saw her making some the other day and assumed that she liked them-I didn’t mean to-” the teen stuttered over his words, incredibly disturbed.

“Don’t mind him. Thank you Falco,” you chimed, standing to ruffle his hair.

“But I bought them for you in the heat of the morning-standing in that long queue!” Gabi scowled, her eyes narrowing at Falco who looked like he wanted to jump off the window, feeling the walls of the room were now suffocating.

You giggled softly and placed your hand on both of their heads, ruffling their hair lovingly. “I appreciate both of you so much,” you chimed. In return, Gabbie proudly puffed up her chest.

She then turned, surveying Levi who sat on the bed uninterested. “Captain, why does it look like an elephant trampled over you?” She sarcastically assumed and you almost laughed.

Levi narrowly stared at Gabi, about to clap back at her sarcastically but you quickly intervened. “He’s got a fever. I was just going to make him some stew,” you told the teens. Gabi’s smug smile wiped off as she stared at Levi silently; Falco also stepped closer to inspect the sick man.

Your heart melted as the two watched Levi, concern washing over their faces, making them pale. Gabi and Falco were deeply attached to Levi after the war. Despite acting like they hated him, they carried immense respect for the Captain and followed him around like little ducklings-inspired by his great strength and combativeness. Gabi was so intrigued knowing he alone had slaughtered 58+ titans without modern weaponry that she couldn’t stop questioning him about his experiences. He acted like she was a bother but secretly enjoyed the look of fascination in her eyes after every interrogation. They visited your home very often along with Jean and Connie.

Your raven haired husband noticed their worried frowns and grew embarrassed. You could tell by the sudden frantic look in his eyes. “Tch, I’m perfectly alright. Y/n likes to exaggerate,” he rasped, staring at you for help.

Levi was always so awkward when someone expressed genuine concern for him; he had warmed up to you eventually and loved your concerned nagging but with others, he still didn’t know the correct response.

“Guys, don’t worry. He’ll be better in no time.” You smiled warmly.

Suddenly Falco stood upright, eagerly putting on his cap. “I’ll get the fever-reducer and painkillers,” he announced like a solider on a mission and marched out the door to a pharmacist. “I’ll make stew and some honey tea, Reiner drinks it whenever he’s sick,” Gabi rushed to explain and hurried out to the kitchen.

You stared blankly. Your eyes warmed up. You looked towards Levi and noticed his eyes twinkling with something unknown. You could feel his overwhelming emotions and grabbed his thin hand, tracing your thumb against his skin comfortingly.

“Levi, aren’t we so lucky to be living in this world?” You softly whispered, afraid to break his trance.

His eyes which used to be dull, scared, tired were now brimming with happiness. You could feel it. He looked at you, nodding softly.

As you caressed his hand, his hold grew tighter.

“Do you think they remember?” He rasped, his voice so small you barely heard him. “Every time they see us, do they remember what happened to Colt... Udo... Zofia?” His voice cracked, overcome with the horrors of each war.

You edged close, caressing his jaw to meet his eyes. The eyes were so grey and sad.

“Levi, are you reminded of what happened to Sasha, Hange and so many of your comrades every time you see them?” You asked, making him ponder upon the question.

He instantly shook his head, disagreeing. “No, I don’t because... it’s not their fault.” He looked sullen. You nodded, staring into his eyes so he could understand the truth behind his words.

“Exactly. None of it is anyone’s fault. It was never our fault,” you reminded him.

Levi stared at you, his gaze softening.

Five year ago, he’d have swore he was nothing but a sacrificial lamb for the humankind’s sake. How did his empty existence manage to build himself a home? He had somehow lived. Struggle after struggle, he was finally free. Beyond the walls, there was a paradise, a paradise of freedom which he was sharing with none other than you.

Levi’s lips curled into a soft curve; he was never sure of the right answer. Was he thankful to have survived or did he wish to be rolled up into the destruction, ending his pain once in for all? He didn’t know. He only knew one thing deep in his heart: he wouldn’t trade his life for anything in the world right now.

He leaned in and kissed your mouth, tasting the sweetness of his life. You kissed back instinctively, his touch making your insides curl up.

“I’ve brought the medicine!”

You pushed him away, wide eyed while Levi groaned in annoyance. Rolling your eyes, you stood up, facing Falco who was red-faced, seeming like he had run his way back hurriedly to bring the medicine. You smiled at him.

“Give them to Levi. I’ll check up on Gabi,” you ruffled his hair again and walked away, leaving the tense duo together.

Falco edged closer to Levi, his anxiety topping the roof as he poured water into a cup. He silently gave Levi the cup of water and medicine. Levi silently observed Falco and then took the medicine, gulping it down in one go.

“Captain, do you need to see a doctor?” He hesitantly asked.

“I’m not a captain anymore, Falco,” Levi told him as a matter-of-fact.

All nerves disappeared from Falco’s frame as he heard the audible softness in Levi’s tone. He again stood upright and answered passionately. “You’ll always be a captain,” he responded. “No matter what.”

Levi smiled at the boy’s admonition. When Falco saw the smile, he couldn’t help smile huge too. It was rare to see Captain Levi break into any expression whatsoever; he’d only seen the captain smile bright with his wife.

“Have you still not got the balls to ask Gabi out?” Levi suddenly asked and Falco’s face reddened, his eyes widening in shock.

“Uh- I- no. I tried but she’s so busy all the time,” Falco winced as he tried to explain, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck, embarrassedly. Levi threw his head back, a hearty laugh leaving his chest. The laugh made Falco want to crawl out of the room and hide away.

“Who’s busy all the time?” Gabi and you walked in, your hands carrying a bowl of stew which you kept on the side table.

“Nothing-No one!” Falco yelled like a deer caught in headlights, his voice cracking, straining to keep it together. You looked at Levi who seemed to be smug, his gaze flicking with humour.

“I have tickets to the amusement park,” Levi suddenly announced. You eyed him, confused. “I was going to take my wife if I wasn’t so sick but Falco and Gabi can go or it’ll be such a waste,” he said it like a command, and pulled the side drawer to reveal actual tickets.

You eyed him, shocked. You didn’t realise he had planned an entire trip to the amusement park for today. No wonder, he was going on about it. You smiled softly and nodded. “Yeah guys, it’s the new park. You’ll have lots of fun,” you told them. Falco and Gabi hesitantly stared at the tickets.

“Uh, it’s okay I don’t want to go-” Gabi said.

Levi arched an eyebrow at Falco, hinting at him to take action. The brown haired boy wanted to agree with Gabi, not wanting to discomfort her but Levi’s challenging expression made him abruptly move to grab the tickets.

“Yeah, we’ll go or it’ll be a waste...” he told her and Gabi’s face flushed, her eyes widening in embarrassment. She hesitantly looked around and then replied, “Fine!” She squealed and then the duo wandered out. Before Falco left he looked back at Levi, his eyes glinting with joy and the look in Levi’s eyes told you he was involved in setting up Falco and Gabi.

“You helped Falco out, didn’t you,” you muttered, eyeing him accusingly.

Levi pinched the bridge of his nose and then grabbed your arm, pulling you on top of him, his heat travelling through your body. You gasped as he attacked your lips again. “I needed them gone... to do this,” he whispered against your skin, expressing his ulterior motives and left his marks down your throat, causing goosebumps to rise on your flushed skin.

You were surely very lucky to have this man beside you- everyday-every night-this entire life.

•=•

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers DARK FATE ー Laito Maniac [Prologue]

ー The scene starts in the living room of the Tsukinami Manor

Carla: ーー I doubt I need to remind you, but we are keeping an eye on you two at all times.

If you try anything funny, or fail to carry out the plan on time.

My Familiars will have no mercy ripping both you and that woman apart as per my command.

Laito: Yeah, yeah, you don’t need to tell me a million times.

I thought you said yourself that I’m not an idiot, remember?

Carla: That is exactly why.

Laito: Eh?

Carla: Fools do not even think. However, you are different.

In other words, I realize that there is always the possibility that you will change your mind.

Laito: ...Hmー Well, thank you for the compliment. Although I think you might just be giving me a bit too much credit.

ーー Shall we get going, Bitch-chan?

Yui: Yeah...

( Is this really the best decision...? )

*TIMESKIP*

Shin: Nii-san, why didn’t you have him leave the woman behind with us?

Didn’t we need her as a hostage?

Carla: He is serious.

Shin: ...Aren’t you putting a little too much faith in him?

Carla: Think about what might happen after he kills Karlheinz...

Shin: ...

Carla: That woman might be our way to put a stop to it then. (1)

Shin: I see...

Carla: Either way, the Familiars are keeping a watch on them.

If an unforeseen situation arises, we can easily deal with it.

Shin: I trust you. However, I’ll head to the Demon World as well, just in case.

You should return to Banmaden, okay?

Carla: Yes, very well.

Shin: Well then, I’ll move with haste. I’ll lend you a few Familiars just in case something happens.

Carla: ...

ー The scene shifts to the forest in the Demon World

Laito: I didn’t think we’d find ourselves coming here, out of all places...

Yui: Laito-kun, where are we...?

Laito: It’s Richter’s castle.

Yui: Richter...He’s you guys’ uncle, right?

( If I recall correctly, he’s Karlheinz-san’s younger brother... )

Why would Carla and Shin tell us to come here...?

Laito: I assume that he’s working with the two of them.

He absolutely loathes that man after all.

Yui: Right...

Laito: My family is a mess, don’t you think? Fufufu.

Well, no point in standing here talking forever. I’m not too thrilled about this, but I guess we should head inside?

ー They enter the manor

Richter: ーー Welcome to my castle.

Laito: Thank you for having us, Uncle.

Yui: Pardon the intrusion...

Richter: I heard you will be staying for a while. You haven’t been in the Demon World for quite some time, haven’t you? Take it easy.

Laito: Heeh. You’re being rather kind.

Richter: I’m generous towards those who share the same objective as me.

Yui: ...

( Objective...Does that mean he’s out to kill Karlheinz-san as well...? )

Laito: Oh geez~ You gave me goosebumps just now. Please don’t get the wrong idea.

I’ll kill him for my sake, you know? Not for yours, or for that woman’s.

Richter: Do not refer to your own mother as ‘that woman’!

Laito: Fufufu, my ‘mother’, huh? I’m not quite sure when she ever acted as one though.

Yui: L-Laito-kun!

Laito: Ah, sorry, sorry! I can’t help myself in front of this guy, you see?

Richter: I’ve heard enough. Get to your room.

Laito: Good idea. That’d probably be best for both of us...

Let’s go, Bitch-chan.

Yui: Yeah...

Laito: ーー Aah, there’s one thing I forgot to ask.

Richter: ...What?

Laito: Are you sure you don’t want to do it yourself?

Richter: Do what?

Laito: You hate him, don’t you?

Richter: ...One cannot kill a fellow Vampire out of hatred. You know so as well, don’t you?

Laito: I see. You’re scared, huh?

Richter: ...!!

Laito: Sorry, sorry~ Slip of the tongue, you see?

Yui: ( Haah... Will things be okay like this...? )

ー The scene shifts to the bedroom

Yui: ...Laito-kun. Richter-san is letting us stay at his house, so you shouldn’t provoke him like that.

Laito: Haah, I’m sorry, okay? I just end up recalling memories I’d rather forget when I see him...

Yui: ( ...Laito-kun... )

However, I’m worried the two of you will get into a fight.

Laito: You’re right. I should have just punched him across the face instead of beating around the bush.

Yui: Y-You can’t...!

Laito: Ahー ...My bad. I honestly just got irritated...

I wonder if it’s because of the lunar eclipse? That woman’s face keeps on flickering through my mind...

Yui: I see...

ー She embraces him

Laito: Bitch-chan...?

Yui: ( I wrapped my arms around him without thinking... )

I was hoping I could soothe your anger even just a little.

Laito: ...If anything, it has triggered a little something inside of me...Nfu~

Yui: ...!?

*Thud*

On certain CGs, little black roses will appear on the screen. If you click on them, you get an extra line of dialogue.

“You really are a ‘Bitch-chan’, pulling me into a hug like that.”

“Say...You don’t mind, do you? Of course you don’t. I ‘love’ you after all...”

Laito: Woah there, you’re not getting away~

*Rustle*

Yui: Kyah!

Laito: You’re the one who enticed me, so you can’t back out now.

Yui: B-But...Right now is...

Laito: Nfu~ Is that a no? But just look at how much I love you...

Yui: ...!!

Laito: I want your blood. Right now...Please...?

*Rustle rustle*

Yui: Laito-kun, sto...

Laito: Bitch-chan...I love you...

Yui: ( This ‘I love you’ is different...He’s only saying it to silence me. )

( Just when I thought we were finally on the same page. )

( I don’t want him to take out his frustrations on me like this... )

*Rustle rustle*

Yui: Stopーー

Laito: Don’t・want・to!

*Rustle rustle*

Yui: ...! I’m serious, cut it out!

*THUD*

Laito: Wawah...!!

Yui: Ah...!!

( Oh no...I pushed him a little too hard by accident... )

I-I’m sorry, I acted on instinct...

Laito: ...

Yui: A-Are you alright?

Laito: Haah...I’m the one who should apologize.

It’d be fine if you were just pretending to dislike it as part of the fetish, but you were serious just now, weren’t you?

Yui: I...I truly am sorry...

Laito: Don’t sweat it. More importantly, why did you oppose me that strongly?

You have a reason, don’t you?

Yui: Well...

Laito: Tell me.

Yui: ...To me, it appears as if you’ve become desperate.

Laito: Desperate...? In regard to what?

Yui: Well...Yourself...

Laito: I see...

I see...That’s how it comes across, huh? Is that why you refused me?

Yui: I don’t want you to try and cover up a serious matter...By acting like your usual self.

Laito: I’m not covering anything up. Besides, what do you mean with ‘a serious matter’?

Yui: T-The thing about Karlheinz-san. Are you actually...going to kill him?

Laito: Good grief, you’re saying that now as well?

While it may come across as overly desperate because I decided it on the spot.

However, I’m calm. I will kill him because that’s what I want to do.

Yui: Uu...

Laito: There’s nothing desperate about it.

Yui: You’re lying...

Laito: ...I’m not.

Yui: I can tell...That you’re afraid of losing me...

That’s why you’re willingly going to face Karlheinz-san...

You’re hoping that...You’ll lose your life in the process, don’t you?

Because that’d be easier on you...

Because it’d liberate you from your suffering...

Laito: ...

Yui: That’s exactly why I’m saying you’ve become desperate...!

Don’t run away, Laito-kun...!

Laito: Haah...I’ve lost my touch.

Yui: ...

Laito: I didn’t think you’d ever be able to read me so well...

Yui: Laito-kun...

Laito: Bitch-chan, you see...I just want everything to end.

I don’t want to lose another person I hold dear.

Yui: ...Uu...

Laito: Of course, I won’t deny that the love I felt for that woman was nothing but lies and fables, that didn’t get rid of the sense of loss I felt when she passed.

I’m terrified...of experiencing that same feeling again.

The reality that one day you will pass and leave me behind by myself...It scares me.

Yui: Is that why you say you want to die...?

Laito: Exactly. I’m weak. Because I know that,

I’ve always lived in denial of love, never letting myself grow attached to anything or anyone.

...I figured it’d be easier on me...If I never had loved ones to begin with. I wouldn’t have found myself in this current situation either.

However, then you were thrown at me.

I’m stuck in your thorns... (2)

Yui: ...Laito-kun...

Laito: I wonder if I should just kill you instead...?

By doing so...I might be able to escape this fear...?

Aah, but when I think about what will happen to me by doing so, I feel like I’m about to go crazy.

I don’t want to lose you...Yet I’m contemplating killing you myself...

I realize it’s contradicting, but that’s just how much I feel driven up a wall.

Of course, I realize you might not understand as the one who would leave me behind...

ー He embraces her

*Rustle*

Yui: ...What should I do?

Laito: You don’t need to do anything. This is my issue, remember?

Everything will be resolved once I’m gone. If I die...No, I want to die.

Yui: Don’t say that...

Besides, I don’t want you to die. What will happen to me...? I’ll be left behind as well, you know...?

Laito: ...

Yui: ( Why won’t he answer my question...? )

You’re being selfish...

Laito: Yeah, you’re right.

Yui: ...I would never leave you though...

Laito: Fufu...

Yui: Why do you laugh?

Laito: I mean, that’s...Right.

ーー You liar...

Yui: Uu...

Laito: Fufufu...

Yui: ( Why would he say that...? )

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー 

Translation notes

(1) Carla says that Yui might become a ‘checkmate’. I’m not 100% certain on what is meant with this line, but perhaps Carla knows that Laito could inherit Karlheinz’ powers upon killing him and plans to use Yui as a back-up plan then.

(2) I found this line to be quite tricky. Literally he says that he can no longer escape the ‘thorn’ (いばら) being Yui/the MC.

→  LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!

<- [ Dark Epilogue ] [ Maniac 01 ] ->

[mrsmaybank]

My Little Sun - Spencer Reid x Reader

“Can you imagine it?” I started, “A little girl who looks just like you? I’d be in so much trouble.”                  

She giggled, “Absolutely whipped.”                       

PART ONE HERE

A/N: It came out fast!!! I had lowk already started it, so that’s why this update came so quickly. Please don’t expect them all to come this fast LMAO. I usually write slow as fuck. Anyway, I really hope you guys like this part so I can maybe just maybe turn this into a mini series. Please lmk if you guys like :) 

CONTENT WARNINGS: KIDNAPPING, PREGNANCY, LANGUAGE, MENTIONS OF SEX (lmk if i missed any please) 

I paced the bullpen as the team spoke to Penelope. The shock of her pregnancy was starting to wear off, and now I could think more clearly. How could she? What was she thinking? 

Recently, I’d found myself thinking about it more, a baby her and a mini-me. A family of my own, with the love of my life. It was exciting and like a lovesick fool it made my stomach fuzzy. But she wasn’t ready and I couldn’t do that to her. So how could she do it to herself? She hadn’t finished school, hadn’t started her career. She could barely take care of herself! I wasn’t mad, absolutely not. Just disappointed at her self-sabotage and the fact she’d made the decision completely without me. I couldn’t think about it for long though, because I was swiftly reminded by my surroundings that right now, there was a chance I’d lose her, our child and any children we wanted to have in the future. That was the priority. 

“Garcia, check her credit card records, we need to see where she last was.” Hotch said. 

“Uhm, okay,” Penelope took a deep breath while clicking away, “Let’s see. Her last purchase was last night, 6:49 at a CVS Pharmacy, oh--” 

“What Garcia?” Hotch asked. 

“She was um, picking up her monthly case of birth control.” 

JJ broke the silence, “Spence…” she started towards me. 

I breathed a sigh of relief, “Thank god.” 

“Thank god?” Morgan questioned. 

“She’s 23.” I wiped my face, “Whole life ahead of her.” The team understood what I was trying to say. Rossi’s hand fell on my shoulder, giving it a squeeze. 

“So why would she tell Brook she was?” Garcia asked. 

“I uh, I..I don’t know.” I spat out. I really had no idea.  

“Think Reid.” Rossi told me. “You guys ever talk about kids or pregnancy?”

“She might be trying to send us a message,” Emily added. 

I thought back to the last time we discussed starting a family. 

--FLASHBACK-- 

We were surrounded by timeless pieces of art and history, and yet the true masterpiece was still her. She was always beautiful to me, a perfect being, truly. But today, something about the way she looked today specifically, made her look like the kind of beauty you see in a painting. Had she been a painting, her creator must have been skilled. Each stroke of his brush creating every divine curve of her face and body to produce a work of magnificent art, one that I so proudly hung on the walls of my heart. 

I remember exactly what she wore, and how it felt to take it all off. The painter had an eye for color. Her denim skirt, the length or lack thereof making me embarrassingly wary, was blue like the Mediterranean Sea, complementing the pigment of the skin of her legs. A white button down made of silk, not worn properly, of course. Too many buttons were left open at the top, as to draw attention to the gold adorned on her chest, but in the spell of temptation she procured to cast upon me, my eyes wandered to admire territories of her body they shouldn’t have. Not in public, at least. The buttons at the bottom were left untouched as well, revealing the soft skin of her stomach. She looked like an angel, but of course, went out of her way to instead be my temptress.

My affinity for her beauty aside, the wide eyes in delight at the museum artifacts and careful attention to my commentary were what made our excursion wonderful. The feeling of her smaller hand in mine, and the giggles and the teasing “You’re way too nerdy to be so stupid hot Dr. Reid.” made it absolutely perfect. 

In exchange for her listening so attentively to my historical facts and stories, I took her for ice cream. She insisted we ate it on the greens of Lincoln Park. Who was I to deny her that? What came next--I expected. She’d devoured it. Made a mess of strawberry ice cream on her white shirt. 

“It was the wind!” She insisted as the first of many drips of ice cream fell down her chin. 

“No it was not!” I argued back while wiping it, “You just never learned how to eat ice cream properly.” I gently removed the cone from her hands and into mine, taking an overzealous bite. “This, lovey, is how you eat ice cream.” 

“Give it back, you...you dickass!” She snorted. We laughed like two lovesick teenagers. 

“Dickass?” I asked, eyes watery from laughter. 

“Yeah dickass, give me back my damn ice cream.” I took another bite, “Stop! You’re eating it all!” She pouted. Pouts were unfortunately my weakness and I handed it back to her. However, in her rush, the pink scoop had fallen directly on her blouse. 

“Way to prove my point,” I started to take off my cardigan, “You want dickass’s sweater?” 

She wanted to be mad but couldn’t contain the wince of a smile. “Please.” 

We carefully removed her shirt from under while simultaneously putting the cardigan in its place. 

“Spence don’t let me flash! There’s kids and judgmental old ladies here!” 

I laughed and shushed her, “I know, I know.” I moved all the fabrics quickly and it was done. Her sticky pink shirt was replaced with my soft sweater. “There.” 

“My hero,” She kissed me, “Truly.”

She leaned back on our picnic blanket on her shoulders as we observed our fellow park goers. “So many kids.”  

I nodded my head in agreement. “Yeah…” 

“We should bring our kids here one day.” she said, instantly breaking my haze from the crowd so I could only see her. 

I smiled again at the thought, “Yeah, and tell them how their mom is the world's clumsiest ice cream eater.”

She looked at me with disdain before shoving her shoulder into mine. “Shut up.” 

“Can you imagine it?” I started, “A little girl who looks just like you? I’d be in so much trouble.” 

She giggled, “Absolutely whipped.” 

I toppled her so we were laying down, facing each other. She kissed me hard, and my hands went to the sides of her face, only pulling back to say “I can’t wait for it, you know. My two little girls.” 

She smiled, “But I’ll always be your favorite right?” she asked sarcastically. 

I laughed, “Oh of course. Always.” 

“I’ll have a big ol’ belly, you know.” I nodded, “You’d still be perfect.” 

“We’d have to go to the mall, buy me a shitload of new clothes. Do ya know how dirty malls are Spence?” I winced at the thought of thousands of strangers bacteria on every surface and she laughed, “Got ya.” I shook my head, “Nope! I uh, I’ll just bring hand sanitizers and uh, to the Maternity section we’ll go.” 

“Non-stop Panda express eating.” I nodded again, “I’ll be non-stop Panda Express buying, then.” She smiled so hard her nose scrunched. 

“I love you Spencer.” 

“I love you too. I am so in love with you.” 

--FLASHBACK ENDS--

“Yeah but it was trivial.” I said. 

“Maybe not,” Hotch argued, “Was anything mentioned specifically?” 

“A name she liked?” Prentiss added, “Maybe a craving she thought she might have? Anything at all?” 

I nodded, “Not a food, but a fast food place. Panda Express.” I doubted that would be helpful. 

“It’s a stretch but, Garcia, check for any dilapidated buildings within 10 miles of a Panda Express.” 

“Yes sir,” She typed away and then said, “No, guys. I’m sorry. All of our Panda Express’s are in pristine malls or new developments.” 

“Mall!” I shouted, “She said we’d have to go to the mall! She knows I hate the mall.” 

Morgan pointed at us, “The tiles in that room look like they could be from some 80’s Bloomingdales.” 

“Garcia-” I said. 

“Already on it.” 

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

The pregnancy ruse was either going to get me killed, or save my life. It was a moment of panic and I just wanted to throw her off. I know it did, but in what direction? 

She was still crying, her demeanor with me was still laced with bitter animosity, but she was calmer now. 

“How long have you known?” Brook asked, the contents of her flask now empty and her words slurred. 

“I found out yesterday.” I lied through my teeth. 

She shrugged her shoulders, “Had you guys talked about it?” 

“Vaguely.” I admitted. 

“What’d Spencer want? Boy or girl?” I debated on whether or not to say, and she caught on. “Don’t fucking lie.” She stated harshly. 

“Girl.” I breathed out. “He wants a girl.” 

“What do you want?” she asked. 

“I don’t care.” I said. That was true. 

“How come?” 

“I just want to start a family with him. Don’t really care about the gender…” That was true as well. 

“Oh.” she nodded her head, “Why’d he want a girl?” It was strange, her  genuine curiosity. It freaked me out, but my alternative was being stabbed. I chose to just answer her questions, regardless of how much I really did not want to.  

“He liked the idea of a little girl who looked like me.” 

She winced, eyes tearing up further. “Right.” I was beginning to realize her feelings were very real. 

“You really like him, don’t you?” I asked. I knew I shouldn’t have but I couldn’t help it. My head was still looking for an answer as to how she could be driven to do something like this. 

She clasped her hands together, her anger returning.  “Don’t fucking start. You know nothing of what I feel for Spencer.” She came up closer and tugged at my hair, “Fucking nothing.” 

“Okay,” I grimaced at the pain from the force at which she pulled my hair, “I-I’m sorry.” 

She let go, “You should be. You really, really fucking should be.” She sat back down, pensive for a while. I wish I knew what she was thinking about. 

My heart had not stopped it’s fast pace ridden with anxiety since I gained full awareness of my situation, but now, it felt like it was going to burst through my chest. Was she planning on just killing me now? 

My anticipation ceased when she got up and brought back the camera with her again. “Hello BAU. There has been a change in plans. Your beloved,” The words reeked of sarcasm, “Y/N here, will be returned eventually. . She’s gonna be fine. However, it is now in everybody best interest if this video feed was cut out. Sorry.” She said before mouthing, “No I’m not.” She shut the camera off. 

She turned to me, “I hate you. Fucking despise you.” Figures. 

“But I would never hurt Spencer. Or his child. Even if it is being carried by a whore like you.” 

She began to pace once more, “You’re obviously a mistake on his part. You clearly tricked him with sex and...no just sex I think. You're not really smart enough to be capable of anything else. Regardless, he’s probably already thinking about abortions or adoption. There’s no way in hell a man like him could ever want to start a family with a girl like you.” She shook her head, “Absolutely not.” 

I could only nod my head at her delusions. This woman was so far up her ass. 

She pinched my cheeks together with her cold hands, “You tried to trap him. How’d that go for you?” 

I was silent.

“I asked you a fucking question!” She held my face impossibly tighter. 

“Poorly.” I got out, “Poorly.” 

“In 9 months, I’ll help you deliver your baby. And then, you can go.” Brook backed away and let go of her tight grip on my face. “I’m keeping the kid. Raising it.” She smiled, “I’ll be the mother Spencer’s child will deserve. And then-” A giggle creepily reminiscent of a schoolgirl’s left her throat, “He’ll love me!” 

Brooks intention had twisted from wanting to murder and torture me as revenge for “taking” Spencer, to a now twisted maternal desire for his (hypothetical) child. But if Spencer and his team couldn’t find me before the time I was supposed to be showing, I was fucked. Utterly fucked. 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Taglist: @britishspidey

(Let me know to be added)

[narrators-journal]

The great escape

oh boy oh boy, it’s here! The sequelette! For those who don’t know, this is a small follow up to my story ‘Inquisitive obsessions’ So if you want the full story, go read that first. This one won’t be overtly Yandere, but I still hope you guys have fun with it.

CW: lotsa pregnancy talk in this one. I’m not that knowledgeable of the topic, so likely gonna have some shoddy parts.

Ever since you had met Illumi, your life had changed forever. You didn't notice it at first, too caught up in being in a relationship to remember seeing him lurking outside your house after a date, or to remember the pair of underwear you'd randomly lost despite seeing them on your bathroom floor right before you went to bed that night. It was only after that brightly colored, card-slinging maniac, who you later found out was named Hisoka, murdered the butlers Illumi had set as your prison guards and then tried to 'introduce himself to you' as if he hadn't just slaughtered other humans like cattle that it finally really set in how deep of trouble you were in. Luckily, you had run to the bathroom as if to throw up and then slipped out of your bathroom window to run for help. Unluckily, Illumi was swift to find you. After that, the 'honeymoon phase' violently ended.

Of course, after kidnapping getting you safely to his family home, Illumi didn't explain anything you asked him about, your life couldn't be that easy, but you had your suspicions that a lot of the weird occurrences you'd been faced with before properly meeting him could be placed at his feet. However, you were in no place to investigate or try to escape. You were taken to the main house, situated in Illumi's bedroom, and almost never alone after that. If Illumi wasn't showering you with gifts, compliments, and cuddles, his mother was eager to befriend you, snatching you up from the halls at the rare times you were permitted to walk the home alone to have tea and tell you all about her plans for you and her son's marriage, or the baby. You hated it, and you were noticeably miserable.

Because of that, Illumi did his best to make you happy, distracting you with talk of baby names, wedding details, your hobbies, anything he could think of to try and make you happy. And it would work for a while, you'd get swept up in his charms and melt into his touch when he cuddled up to you at night, but not too long after, you'd crash again. You'd given up on trying to escape, you'd been driven up to the estate, so you knew how big the mountain was and just how hopelessly trapped you really were, but you would still sob, smack and try to hit the long-haired assassin, and just try to get away from him, even though he never let you leave his sight for fear of 'the baby being harmed.

' As the days passed, you did eventually settle into your predicament, though there was always an intense urge to run if you got the chance. You played along with Kikyo, let Illumi love on you and be excited for the baby, and learned how to not only cope with the fear you now felt towards your 'fiance,' but avoid the brunt of Illumi's manipulative powers, mostly by avoiding looking into his dark, soulless eyes, which would leave you groggy and with static for thoughts. He wasn't a fan of that, but he remained unreadable and cold, never laying a hand on you or showing aggression towards you to avoid stressing you out. He treated you like the world's most fragile porcelain doll because of your pregnancy. That one odd behavior at least got explained though, so that was progress.          "I'm very well trained to fight, so I'm very strong. You...are very much so not." It wasn't much, but considering the most you'd gotten out of him when you'd tried to question him before was some form of topic change, you took it. Either way though, you were thankful that he treated you so delicately, because you didn't want to think of the possible alternatives. On the bright side though, your reluctant acceptance did open up more freedoms to you. Mainly, it was the freedom to talk to a single person outside of the Zoldyck family when Illumi was off on jobs, but once he was home that freedom was taken away again. Thankfully though, that wasn't your only freedom, you also got to go along with a butler to shop in town. Of course, Illumi or Kikyo came with, hovering protectively nearby while you walked the town's shops, getting exercise and socialization under the watchful eye of your fiance or karen-like mother-in-law. Illumi usually spent your time out trailing behind you like a ghost, helping when he felt you couldn't do something alone, but otherwise leaving you to do whatever you needed while always feeling his eyes on you. At the very least, you could somewhat ignore him and maybe even...pretend to be normal while he was being protective, unlike his mother, who would never leave you alone when out, and was all around demanding and very hard to miss. It was a brief reprieve from the insanity, but it was welcome. However, that was just it. A brief escape. Whenever you returned to the car you were reminded that you really had been snatched from your home by your boyfriend and pushed into a marriage you didn't want. Finally though, on a particularly cold late-winter night almost three months after your engagement, as you laid in bed with Illumi, staring at the wall with his arm wrapped securely around your midsection and his forehead resting between your shoulder blades, you decided to try a pretty risky ask. You didn't expect him to agree, but you couldn't deal with him lingering around you anymore. It was worth a shot.          "I-Illumi," you croaked, your voice quiet and almost strangled with anxiety and fear, but you forced yourself onwards after he hummed in acknowledgement, "Tomorrow, could I maybe go out alone? O-or at least only with a butler?" you squeaked, your stomach twisting with nerves as you waited the excruciatingly long moments it took for him to ponder your request and reply with no sign to give away his feelings.          "Why?" He asked, and you were really missing the days where he put feeling into his words. His monotonous, unreadable voice gave you anxiety.         "I..." You took a deep breath to steady your quivering voice, deciding honesty was safest, "I'm still scared of you after you got so aggressive when I told you I was pregnant, and...um, y-your mom is...kinda smothering." Your voice died with each word after 'and', but he still heard you. There was another stretch of silence before he hummed,         "Fine, but if you misbehave in any way on this trip, you won't leave the house for the rest of your pregnancy." He warned, and you didn't need him to emote to know he was deathly serious, so you simply nodded and thanked him before curling up and trying your best to sleep. When morning came, you were sure to be on your best behavior while Illumi arranged a butler to take you into town. You'd only get an hour to do whatever you wanted, but it was maybe your only chance to leave the mountain without the manipulative predator who called himself your fiance breathing down your neck. So, when it finally came time for you to leave, you gave the assassin a kiss on the cheek before you left. With that, you had a long car ride with no looming threat or awkward, prying conversations, just peace, quiet, and a lovely view of trees drifting by outside of the car window along the way. It ended up being so peaceful, that you fell asleep for most of the ride, only waking when the driver hit a bump in the road and jolted you out of your dreams and into a slightly panicked state. Instantly putting you on edge as you expected to be faced with Illumi beside you, watching you blankly, or your mother-in-law trying to feel the small bump beginning to show on your belly for the umpteenth time that day. But, when you opened your (e/c) eyes and gave a frantic scan of the backseat, neither were there. You're safe. They're back at the estate. You told yourself, taking a few deep breaths to slow your thundering heart. You finally had no murderous assassin of any sort nearby. You were 2 hours away from the estate, a total of at least 4 from the main house. You soon realized, you could run. Do you really want to live life in terror? Being used as a broodmare and watching your baby be turned into a small Illumi? The braver, more realistic voice in your head whispered while you watched trees zoom by through the car window, but he's a dangerous man. He found you when you ran the first time, do you think you could get away a second time? And STAY away? the more fearful inner voice piped up, but at the thought of possibly being free that first voice won out. Because of that, you knew in an instant that you were already at a point of no return if you even began this path, but you were also determined to not be trapped in a fearful marriage, watching your child suffer. So, you curled up and covertly unlaced your shoe lace, a small luxury you'd gotten to sooth one of your earlier melt downs about being trapped in such a restrictive relationship, than, you struck. In a flash, you coiled the lace around your hands and looped it over the driver's seat and the butler's throat. You put your foot against the back of the seat and felt hot tears burn your eyes in both terror and instant regret as the car skidded to a halt so the butler could try to fight for his life. However, while the help had been trained to be demons in their own right, you somehow managed to overpower his frantic attempts to free himself with your own frantic, shakey, teary-eyed strength. You were hysterical as you did it, but you  successfully strangled the poor butler after an excruciatingly long time.          "ohgodimsosorry," you wept as you scrambled to the front seat and pushed the body out onto the deserted road, fighting the urge to vomit just yet as you took his place. You then had to scrub your eyes three times before your vision was clear enough for you to drive, but even after calming down a bit, your breaths were still raking through your chest, and you could already feel a headache coming from the intensity of your sobs as you drove into the town and repeatedly plead for forgiveness for the murder. However, when you found a bus stop, you scraped up your composure and did your best to hide just how distraught you were. Luckily, the clerk was an angel, getting you a ticket for free when they saw just how dishevelled and snivelling you were, deducing correctly that you needed help and doing their best to assist. So, you got a cup of water and clutched your ticket like a child protecting their lollipop from a greedy sibling, settled inside and out of view to await the bus and calm down. That was when you got the call. The phone ringing sent an icy hot bolt of primal terror through your body, but you bit that back and went ahead and answered it with shaking hands, (e/c) eyes blurring with tears again when you heard the sickly familiar indifferent voice on the other end of the line,           "(y/n)," Illumi said, not even sounding pissed, just slightly bored, as if he'd expected this. "I understand you are scared about all of the changes and are somewhat sensitive right now, but I cannot let you leave. Please return home before I have to come collect you." Just like that, the rabid courage that gave you that first push of determination was wiped away like a leaf in a tornado. After all, it was so much easier to make an escape when Illumi wasn't looming over you, but now that he was talking to you, knowing damned well what you were up to, you had the powerful urge to burst into tears and drive back to the Zoldyck estate. No! This is the exact reason you were such easy prey for him in the first place! that courageous voice pointed out, essentially slapping some sense into you as you swallowed your sobs and those submissive urges, this is your one chance! if you go back, he's never going to leave you alone for a SECOND. Run! This is your only chance! With that last point, you gulped down breaths, steeling your nerves before speaking at last          "No." You croaked, your voice barely a whisper, but you still sensed the switch in Illumi's mood when he heard,              "(y/n). Come home. Right. Now. You won't like it if I have to come and get you." he said, his voice finally changing from flat and bored, to dripping with a threat as his mask cracked and his anger slipped through so clearly you could almost feel him grabbing you by the throat, but you saw your bus beginning to load, so you had to make a snap judgement as quickly as Illumi's emotional outburst passed and he returned to indifference.             "Listen, I'm trying my best to not be terrifying or anything, but I'd be a horrible hu-" You hung up on him and tossed the phone out of the window once you'd gotten onto the bus and it had begun the journey down the road. Something about that single, simple action felt more like throwing one of your shackles out of the window instead of a phone.

[stra66otkiller]

ELI CLARK SWF/NSFW HCS

sfw:

he’s a darling, truly. he was something akin to a kicked puppy when you first arrived to the mansion. meek, yet intimidated, he was someone you felt that needed taking care of

poor thing looks like he’s having a tough time on a cipher? here you come with your overzealous and overbearing parental love for him.

the whole manor can see how you view him, and really, they all think you’re clinically insane

eli clark was one of many men, but he was not the weak or the lost at all

in fact, he was someone with a tendency to act passive aggressive or have a short temper at a cipher if something wasn’t going right. he was the type of person to ignore you if he feels that you’ll disturb him in the future, the type of person to avoid speaking to anyone at all costs because he thinks he’s higher power (although he’ll never show it)

surely, he is kind, he’s sweet, but there are his moments that the other survivors can see that you don’t get to see

eli loves your personality. loves how you attend to his every response or move. he loves how you take care of him. he finds it adoring when you worry over simple injuries or when he goes out alone and he finds you waiting for him anxiously

he treats you like a god. his god.

everything you do he is unimaginably amazed by it that it’s almost annoying to watch

whenever he’s not near you, he sends brooke to watch after you, but sometimes he forgets brooke is watching you and tries to find you himself which leads to a lot of interaction with the hunter

not to mention, he loves it when your smile, which is cliche in a sense but he loves it. he immediately responds with a smile of his own, whether a small or huge smile on your face, one will find its way onto eli’s face no matter what

he unconsciously leans into your warmth and feels bad when you shuffle to get away. as if a boundary was established that was never there before, yet it washes away the moment you start to coo over him again

and by all means, eli is NOT the funniest. he can’t be unintentionally funny like norton or naturally good at cracking unneeded jokes like kevin, of which you always laugh to (unfortunately), but he does try

his attempt at humor that matches your humor always goes horribly wrong that others cringe watching it. while you find it adoring, and he finds it as another reason for a nervous breakdown when you’re not around

around the other survivors he’s simply that nice one with the owl that occasionally cracks from stress. but to you, the other survivors can tell he looks like an angel descent from heaven and blessed upon you as a babysitter

it was the day of his former fiancé’s birthday, gertrude, that he had realized what was happening

you were so kind when he would vent to you, and you to him, but when he spoke about his past fiancé he wanted a reaction. call it selfish and him a horrible man but he wanted something that showed you had interest in him — just something

but alas, he saw nothing but genuine comfort, raw sweetness dripping from your voice that he so dearly wished to be words that expressed jealousy over his past lover

you saw him as a child. someone who needed supervision. the realization hit him when the other survivors would call you his mother or laugh between your interactions

it only made him cry into your hands, he tried to guise his sudden despair with remembering gertrude, trying to push himself into your lap as if it would help. all the while, fat tears rolling down his face because he feels worthless — he feels alone — and stupid

so then he chooses to do something stupid and spills everything

it’s complicated when he explains it, but when you finally understand the words that were coming out in sobs and stutters, and the tears pooling at your clothes, you then press a soft kiss to the under of his eye

albeit its almost awkward, for you, doing that aloof smile on your face when you’re lost is what makes him confused, but your hands on the side of his head numb that confusion down to silence, and his skin burns where your lips touched

you tell him he’s adoring. literally. there isn’t enough synonyms for adorable to describe him

he questions shyly, sniffling even, that if the relationship could be more

and you agree, although, hesitantly

you saw eli as courageous, cute, hardworking, and sweet, but none of those traits or himself made you scream for romance. and maybe the guilt ate you up, and that’s why you agreed

however, he worked hard to change that perception of him as time passed

he increasingly became more active and bashful during your new relationship. he had a tendency of asking for hugs and small kisses here and there, his cheeks would blossom with red when you would just stare at him long enough

he’d try to prove to to you that he didn’t need supervision. as much as he loves you around him, he wanted you to see him as dependable

sometimes he would coo over you which certainly made the manor erupt in fits of laughter when your face deepened to dark reds never seen before

eli, occasionally, would slip and mention something of gertrude, but you usually don’t pay mind to it. you’re understanding of his situation and you don’t find the need to fight over it when you’re both stuck in the mansion

he finds his occasional slip ups as death. he profusely apologizes and follows you around anxiously to make sure you don’t go to anyone else but him (you can tell he sends his owl at unneeded times), he tip toes around you but becomes blunt when he feels as though you’re mad at him (you’re not, but his anxiety-driven head thinks you are)

the only way you assure he’s fine is by staying by his side and talking to him a lot. and i mean a lot.

eli relies on communication, even if he’s horrible at it, he wants to make sure he’s doing everything right, something you truly adore

nsfw:

sensitive and sloppy. that’s it.

when you kiss him on the cheek it makes everything inside of him twist and burn, his legs wobble when he walks sometimes, but on the lips he truly feels as though he’s going to pass out

he moans into the kiss, trying to follow desperately but ultimately submitting and shaking under you when you pull away with a smile

kisses are usually very sloppy, not that he’s trying to but your simple peck on the corner of his lips makes him go haywire, drool collecting at the sides of his mouth

refuses to touch you. will not lay a hand on you. he’s so scared of hurting you, as though he’s too rough or you don’t like it. he worships you, he wants you to feel like a god when you are one

sometimes his hands ghost over your head or hips in fear of hurting you, you can only watch as his orgasm makes his hands flinch or scrunch up his clothes with an immeasurable amount of strength to avoid touching you

he loves initiating small acts whenever too

occasionally, coming to wrap his hands around you and shoving his face into your neck to pepper kisses along your collarbones, but he’s always too scared to go further and needing your guidance for the rest

you love to give him head at any given moment. tears start to pool into his eyes when you suck particularly too hard at the skin of his cock, or when he feels the tip hit the back of your throat

he loves it when you swallow his cum but also hates it. he apologizes and says it’s dirty but he can’t help feel more aroused when you swallow around him

eli’s favorite position is cowgirl or doggy-style

you being on top allows for you to lead and him to submit to you. whining when you go too fast or too slow, and you only laugh meanly before speeding up

he also loves cockwarming. something about being connected to you so intimately is really arousing to him. sometimes you’ll find his hands trying to push you further down his cock to hold you into place, crying about how good it feels to be inside of you and how warm, and how your walls are milking him

doggy-style, even in a more submissive position, you still have power over him

again, eli loves communication, just telling him he’s fucking you so good, calling him pup, or even baby, his hips are immediately stuttering into yours like a dog in heat

“it feels good, right?” he questions with a stutter, letting out a sharp grunt into your neck when your walls clamp up against his cock

unlike others, he doesn’t curse. but he will call you beautiful while he’s pounding into you. and sometimes he’ll call you his

even if he came already, he’ll listen if you tell him to keep going. the sensitivity leaves him spinning and coming once more

something you find cute is that jealousy sex is nothing rough. in fact, it’s so tame. eli takes his time to kiss you and thoroughly remind you that you both were dating, even if it means he’s crying into your shoulder while fucking you slowly

he’s so vocal to the point you’d rather just listen to him during sex. he whines uncontrollably when you slowly sink down onto his cock, praising about how big it is and how it might not fit

loves being called pup!!! during sex!!! outside of the bedroom it’s disheartening, but when he’s fucking you so sloppily after a bad day, drool coming from his mouth, and he’s whining into your ear, hearing you call him pup has him coming inside of you immediately

sadly, he does not like coming inside of you. he worships your body and thinks of his cum being inside of you is dirtying you. he tries to avoid it and comes into his hand

he basically treats you like a god outside and inside, so when both of you are finally spent, he’s the one getting up and cleaning everything. his aftercare is so intensive, especially if he came inside of you, he wants to make sure everything is out and you feel comfortable

[stardust-kenobi]

First

Obi Wan Kenobi x Fem!Reader

Summary: Obi Wan finds out that you’re a virgin after an evening with him at the bar. You asked him if he would be your first.

Word count: 4.8k

Warnings: vanilla smut, soft obi wan🥺

A/N: This wasn’t requested. I do have a few requests I have received that I will be working on this week. This one was mostly taken from a fic I wrote with a different character a while back. It was edited to fit Obi Wan💕

gif cred: @princessxkenobi

The liquor coated your throat as you threw back the remains of your fourth, unnecessarily strong drink. Your eyes met the dark, dimly lit ceiling of the bar as your head was tilted backward. You weren’t wincing at the awful flavor anymore as your taste buds became practically numb. You confidently slammed the glass onto the bar, nonverbally announcing you were ready for some more alcohol.

The very busy bartender was quick to replace your glass, reminding himself of the money he’d be making off of you this evening. Your best friend, Obi Wan, had accompanied you to the bar tonight. It was not often that he’d let loose but this evening, he’d thrown a few drinks back himself. Anakin had joined you two as well, but he left so that he could spend some quality time with Padme. The two of you remained in the bustling and rowdy crowd, clinging to the bar and chatting the time away.

An odd looking, clearing intoxicated man approached you on the left. Obi Wan stood next to you on your right.

“Hello, pretty thing” he slurred his words. You attempted to scoot away from him. Obi Wan had not noticed his presence yet.

“I said hello” he repeated himself, this time with a sour, demanding attitude.

“I’m not interested” your words were blank and empty of emotion. Obi Wan perked up, now fully aware of the situation.

“Bitch” the man spat at you.

“Excuse me. what is the problem here?” Obi Wan intervened, thankfully.

“This whore right here. That’s the problem” his verbal hostility heightened the dramatic nature of the situation. Obi Wan moved to step in front of you and protect you, he opened his mouth to defend you but he was rudely interrupted.

“What? Is she fucking you? Is that why she won’t fuck me?” He inquired, putting harsh emphasis on his words.

“Alright I think it best if you le-” Obi Wan began, fully prepared to physically throw this man out of the bar if necessary. A fun, drunk driven idea found its way into your thought process.

“Yes, we are” You interrupted proudly and shot to your feet from the bar stool. You turned to Obi Wan behind you and flashed him a please-go-along-with-this look. His expression was still angry.

“Aren’t we, Obi Wan?” You continue and wrap your arm around him sloppily and place your other hand on his slightly exposed chest.

You felt the effect of the alcohol intensify as you moved. Obi Wan’s expression had transformed from pure irritation directed at the man, to satisfaction directed at you and your newly formed plan.

“Yeah.. You heard her” Obi Wan attempted to sell the lie while you’re wrapped around him. You could tell he was drunk too. It was subtle, but you’d been around him enough to pick up on his inebriated signals.

“Prove it” The man blurts out suddenly. Obi Wan looks down at you clinging to him with a clueless look on his sweet face. You assume he has no idea how to play this out and decide to take it into your own hands. There was no time to give silent messages to each other now. You moved your face toward his, tension growing exponentially. You grasped his shirt and pulled him into you. Your uncoordinated motions caused your lips to crash onto his harder than you’d intended. Nonetheless, Obi Wan’s lips moved so passionately against yours.

Although this kiss was all for show, you felt a warm tingling feeling in your stomach. The man stood next to the two of you and watched, completely speechless. You smirked slightly against Obi Wan’s lips, silently communicating to him. You move your hand from his chest to his groin and grope him firmly. Obi Wan jumped at the contact then groans quietly into your mouth. After a few long seconds of passionate kissing, you pulled away with a sly look on your face. You nodded your head and raise an eyebrow to the man’s annoyed face. You turn back to Obi Wan, observing a surprised, yet satisfied look plastered across his expression.

“Ah that ain’t nothing, y’all just made out” He said, tremendously unconvinced and displeased. You threw your hands up in frustration and Obi Wan belted out a hardy laugh for more reasons than one. Normally this would be out of character for him. His mood would have turned way too serious very quickly had that situation occurred while he was sober.

“Seriously? Do you want to watch us fuck for you to be convinced?” You rhetorically ask him, hoping he wasn’t actually going to say yes. Your filthy words were shocking to you as they flew off your tongue. Obi Wan jolted his attention to you, you didn’t see it, but you could feel his eyes on you.

“Really I just want to see you without any clothes on, so yeah sweetheart that would be great” He responded, earning an uproar of laughter from himself.

“Fine, we’re going to right now. But you’re not coming, sir” You announced. You wrapped your fingers into Obi Wan’s hair and plant another kiss on his lips before guiding him by the hand around the corner that was unoccupied and lacking light.

Once you both had escaped the man’s presence and came around the corner, both of you broke character.

“What are we doing, y/n?” He whispered and giggled drunkenly, following you closely.

“Shh let’s just get in here” You suggested. Your mind began to wander as you contemplate whether you were ready to lose your virginity tonight. The idea both terrified and excited you simultaneously. Was this still a joke? Was it serious now? Everything was a little blurry for you at the moment.

You both scurried into the unoccupied area and you peak around one last time to make sure you weren’t followed. Once you found yourself in the quiet and darkness, all you could see was a silhouette of Obi Wan’s figure and his crystal blue eyes somehow still glistening. There was silence as you admired him in this setting.

“So…are we really gonn-” Obi Wan started to inquire.

“Oh no!” You cut him off and instantly realized how harsh your words came out of your mouth.

“Right, right. Of course, that was stupid, I shouldn’t have asked that” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously, displaying his slight embarrassment for asking. You then felt heavy guilt on your shoulders for reacting in such a way. You wanted Obi Wan, more than any other man you’d known, but you were afraid of losing your innocence. Especially not when you weren’t prepared for it. It was your nerves speaking, not your true desires.

“Obi Wan…” You began. He motioned politely for you to stop explaining yourself before you even start.

“Y/n you don’t have to say anything, really” Obi Wan said apologetically.

“Let me.” You firmly demanded. “Look, Obi Wan. I know we were doing this as a joke to mess with him, but i’m a little drunk right now and I just feel like telling you this.” You fiddled with your fingers for a moment then looked at him. You weren’t sure if he could see your nervousness. “I’m a virgin” you stated suddenly and boldly, getting it out, finally.

Obi Wan looked at you for a moment and you’re almost able to read his mind through his gestures. He didn’t know what to say, that much was obvious.

“Oh. I see.” He finally broke the silence. He rubbed his beard softly. “Why haven’t you ever told me that?” He inquired, sounding offended and hurt that his very close friend never mentioned her sexual history.

“I was…ashamed…I don’t know” You weren’t sure what to say at this point. You leaned against the wall and hide your face in your hands. Truly you had no need to feel ashamed but you present yourself as such a mature woman at times, you felt a fool for admitting you had no experience in that specific department.

“Y/n, you have nothing to be ashamed about” He assured you softly and places his hand on the wall above your head. He was dangerously close to your face, you could smell the hint of liquor on his breath that was also present on yours.

“I know, I just…I want to, y’know…have sex” You continued. “but I haven’t had the opportunity with someone I really care about.” You kept your focus on the ground below you and feel Obi Wan’s hand rest on your shoulder to provide emotional support. You could tell that his offered consolation was hesitant as he grew nervous for what he’d say next.

“I care about you, darling” Obi Wan began, “and I think you’re…” He paused for a moment and audibly swallowed, “absolutely beautiful.” The last words trailed off toward the end. He was too shy to confidently express his admiration, even with his altered mind. You blushed, of course unnoticed by Obi Wan in this low lighting. “And I’m not just saying that because we’re both drunk, I really feel that way” he continued. You smiled softly and turned your attention to him. He met your eyes in the same moment, reading your mind in the same way you were able to read his before.

His hand slowly grasped your face, gently pulling you closer to him. He was trembling subtly. Your heart began to flutter as it did when you first kissed, except this time it felt deeper, and more real. His soft lips graced yours so tenderly. There was a level of passion in this kiss that you’d never felt in your life and you soaked in every bit of it. You allowed your lips to dance with his for as long as you both allowed in that moment.

You pulled away, and nervously breathed out.

“I’m glad that one was real” He chuckled.

“Me too” You agreed and leaned into his arms. “Obi Wan?” you requested his attention.

“Yeah, y/n?”

“When I decide that I’m ready, would you be my first?” You spilled out of your mouth. You feared what he might say in response.

“I’d love to, Y/n.” He flashed a friendly, comforting smile. “It would be an honor” He confirmed and placed a soft kiss on your forehead. Somehow this conversation was more heartwarming than sexual. You knew he cared about you so deeply and for you to ask him that probably made him happy knowing you trust him in that way.

“We should probably stay back here a little longer, maybe that guy will get bored and leave.” You suggested. Obi Wan nods in agreement.

“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it if he tries to bother you again” he firmly reassured you.

//

In the weeks that followed that unexpected night, you and Obi Wan had developed a beautiful, slow paced relationship. For a while, it was unofficial and overall, unsure. The flirting skyrocketed and the constant sexual tension grew more obvious to you with every moment you spent near each other. One night when the moons glowed brighter than usual, and everything felt right, Obi Wan told you how much he really loved you, and officially asked you to be his, making you feel complete. You two, of course, had to keep the business of your courtship a secret, considering he was a Jedi, and all. Most people assumed you were only friends, as you always had been. You were still a virgin, and Obi Wan was willing to wait as long as you needed.

“You’re worth it, y/n” he would always remind you.

You were once faced with a difficult situation regarding the secrecy of your relationship when you were approached by Mace Windu, asking for an explanation of your extended amount of time with Obi Wan. Somehow, you were able to lie to a Jedi and get away with it, but it surely was a close call. To Master Windu’s surprise, Obi Wan very sternly put him in his place about interrogating you. This put quite the strain on their relationship. But again, Obi Wan assured you,

“You’re worth it, y/n”.

This altercation forced the two of you to be more secretive in the future.

That was a week ago. Today, It was a calm, pleasant day. The sun was peeking through the infrastructure and partially shining through the balcony in Obi Wan’s room, a good indication that it was approaching dawn. Obi Wan was peacefully still snoozing off the previous night. You’d stayed the night with him unintentionally. You’d been there late, and fell asleep on his couch. He covered you in a fleece blanket and let you sleep rather than waking you and making you leave. Although the sun crept itself onto Obi Wan’s relaxed face through the wide balcony and neighboring window, he remained at rest. You sat in the chair next the bed, legs curled up, watching his chest gently rise and fall, admiring the sound of his peaceful breathing.

You studied the lining of his jaw that was speckled with thick hair, yet still so soft. His lips were ever so slightly parted. You smiled to yourself and turned your attention back to the rising sun. You became so lost in your thoughts you were slightly startled by Obi Wan’s voice.

“Good morning, love” His voice was gruff, sleepy, and so adorable. You turn around to look at his fatigued smile and head still rested on his pillow.

“Good morning, Obi Wan” You sweetly replied. “It’s a beautiful day and you’re lazy butt is just sleeping it away” you teased.

“Get over here, you” He chuckled and pulled the covers back with enough room for you to snuggle in there with him. You happily obliged.

You placed your back to his bare chest, asserting yourself as the little spoon. You’d never seem his so exposed and it made your heart flutter.

“You might feel, um-” Obi Wan began. Before he finishes his statement, you felt a bulge press against your ass. You were pleased to feel this but you assumed Obi Wan was likely embarrassed by it. “It’s uh, because I just woke up, that’s all” he tried to explain himself.

“Hush” You attempted to shut him up. You grinded your hips back into him, causing him to groan quietly. You teased him further and rotate your hips slightly. One of your favorite things to do was tease him relentlessly.

“Darling” He growled and pulled you closer into him, if that was even possible. You turned to face him, planning to act on something you’d considered for a while.

“I want you, Obi Wan” You whispered. “I want you to make love to me”. His eyes widened happily. His mind was racing and it was obvious to you. You were so nervous to even bring it up, but he was never going to be pushy about it, so you had to make the first move.

“R-right now?” He stuttered.

“Well, I mean, if that’s okay” You shyly responded. He smiled ear to ear and looks away, then back to you.

“Oh it’s more than okay, Y/n, but” Obi Wan paused and sat up in bed, “I want to get myself cleaned up for you first. It’s your first time, you deserve for it to be special”.

You melted at this gesture and felt relief knowing that he wanted to do this as well. Obi Wan ran his fingers through his messy hair then reached for your hand, pulling it to his lips and planting a kiss softly on your fingers.

“I’ve just been thinking about it a lot recently and…I know that I’m ready” You admitted.

“Tonight” He replied, “Are you okay with doing that here?” He inquired as if he was asking himself simultaneously. You nodded your head in approval to which he positively replied with a nod as well. You kissed him on closed lips quickly before rising to your feet.

“Then I will see you tonight, Master Kenobi” You smiled and exited his room slowly, closing the door behind you.

You had spent the day letting your nerves get the best of you and over thinking the endless possibilities of what could happen.

As the sun got lower, your nerves rose higher. The sun just barely crept over the horizon now. You took a sharp breath in and decided it was a good time to go to him. Your stomach was tied in knots and your legs trembled subtly with every step. You were so excited and so terrified at the same time. As you get near his quarters, you walked yourself through what was going to happen again. The door opened to reveal his robe apparel that was more formal than usual. He scanned your body and admired your flowing evening gown.

“Wow…you look…beautiful” He seemed damn near speechless. You looked normal at best, but he was still amazed at your appearance somehow.

“Thank you Obi Wan, you look very handsome yourself” You reciprocated the compliment. You kept reminding yourself to calm down and steady your hands. Just in time, too, because Obi Wan grabbed them delicately and led you into his bedroom. You were in awe of the mood he had set. The room was lit only by about 30 candles. There were rose petals that circled the bed, creating a romantic atmosphere. He turned to you, seeing the nervous smile on your face, and closed the bedroom door behind you.

“This is wonderful, Obi Wan” you express your gratitude for this preparation.

“Only the best for you, my darling” he whispered.

Obi Wan took his gentle time initiating the events to follow. He approached you hesitantly, displaying signs of anxiousness. He smiled warmly at you and minimized the distance between you two standing in the middle of his bedroom. You felt like you were awkward, not knowing what to do with your hands. He raised his palm to your flushed cheek and rubbed his thumb over your cheekbone. He leaned into you slowly, as if he’s never kissed you before, and placed his ready lips upon yours. As both your lips move gracefully together, you felt yourself begin to relax. Obi Wan repositioned his idle arm to wrap around your waist and pulled you into his warm body, leaving no space between you two. Your tongues meet, increasing the passion of the kiss. He shuffled his feet toward his bed, keeping his grip on you so that you move together. He faced your back toward the bed and lays you down gently before hovering over you, only breaking your kiss for a moment. He ensured that you were comfortable before continuing.

His hands traveled to your neck and gently caressed your collarbone. He removed his lips from yours and presses them against your open neck. You moaned so softly, having your mouth now absent of his touch. Obi Wan sprinkled kisses all over your chest above the line of your dress. It took so little from Obi Wan’s physical affection for you to become incredibly aroused. A warmth formed between your legs you were familiar with, although it was never acted upon. Your fingers fiddled with the clasps on your dress before he noticed your attempts.

“Let me, Y/N” He whispered into your ear and continued what your trembling fingers began. He first pulled your cardigan off slowly and worked on pulling your dress off your shoulder. You lifted your body and helped him slide it to your feet, leaving your body more exposed than you’d ever been in front of a man before. Your gown left no room for a bra, so with the absence of your gown, so was the exposure of your breasts. You felt so self conscious but you couldn’t let that ruin the moment. He removed his robes and under shirt before you were given a chance to assist and left his broad, hair speckled chest open to you. You traced your fingers on his chest and admired his masculine shape.

Through a few more kisses, and traveling curious hands, Obi Wan reached the hem of your panties and he flashed you a look that requested consent. You nodded in acceptance to have your body completely given to him in its most bare form. Chills shot down your body as he slowly removed them from your curves.

You were absolutely nude now and you looked away from him shyly. Obi Wan did not take notice of this and moved himself back to get a thorough look at your body. He released a low, melodic growl from his throat in appreciation for your figure. You felt another chill cascade over the surface of your skin.

“Stars, y/n, you are perfect” He praised you. You chuckle quietly and bite your lip. After his long look of appreciation, he lowers himself to lay next you, planting several more kisses on your lips. His wandering hand that wasn’t placed behind your head traveled to your thighs. He traced your folds with his middle finger and felt how achingly wet and ready you were for him.

“Oh y/n, did I do this to you?” He whispered seductively into your ear. You nodded, unable to create words. His fingers rubbed your clit delicately, finding the perfect rhythm to get you going. You began to squirm lightly under his touch and produced innocent whimpers into his ear. Obi Wan took his time with every move he made, making sure to put your pleasure first. He then slid his middle finger inside of you slowly. You gasped and it was immediately followed by a whimper. He pumped his finger in and out of you, careful to only use one to begin with. His thumb remained at your clit, still rubbing at the same pace as the thrusts of his finger.

“Yeah, that’s it. You’re doing so good sweetheart” He praised you again so tenderly, encouraging your sweet sounds of pleasure.

You moved your lips to intertwine with his while his skillful fingers do wonders to you. You make no effort to cease your moans into his mouth, it seemed to turn him on every time you did. His mouth then diverted its attention to your breasts, sucking tenderly at your nipples.

“Obi Wan” You called to him through your moans.

“What is it, darling?”

“I want to make you feel good” You pleaded.

“I have to take care of you first” He insisted. His fingers increased their pace only slightly and you begin to feel your stomach tighten gradually. Each motion of his hand felt better than the last. A sensation you had felt only in your own times of private intimacy with yourself began to grow inside of you, stronger than what you’d experienced before.

“Oh my god” You moaned deeply as a wash of ecstasy floods your body beginning at your clit and radiating throughout every inch of you. Your back arched and he placed his unoccupied hand under your arch suddenly to keep you on your high.

“Mmm, that's it, love” He moaned. Your intense whimpers faded slowly and your limbs trembled slightly.

Obi Wan then removed his fingers from your pussy slowly. He pulled his trousers off of his body for you as you floated off your high. His cock sprang free from the tight grip that once restricted it. You were in amazement at his size and couldn’t help that your jaw literally dropped. He nervously laughed at your reaction to him. You were hesitant, afraid that you weren’t sure how to handle or pleasure him the same way he was pleasuring you. You sat on your knees while Obi Wan laid flat on his back. He looked at you as if to wonder what your next move was.

You gripped your hand gently around his pulsing cock that was desperate for your attention. You parted your eager lips and moved your face toward what you held in your hand. Your lips made contact with his tip and he breathed in briefly and sharply. You lowered your mouth onto him until his dick is met with the back of your throat. Steadily, you picked up the pace and bobbed your head up and down onto his length. Obi Wan’s moans were soft and innocent to begin, but they were growing louder and more intense with your increased pace.

His fingers found their way to the back of your head and intertwine themselves in your hair. He guided your head as you move.

“Fuck” he mumbled in the most sexy way, causing you to internally melt. He doesn’t allow you to spend as much time on him as he did for you. He gently lifted you from his cock and pulled you up to his face, passionately kissing you. You instinctively placed one leg on each side of Obi Wan’s hips. You intended to lower yourself on him but he stops you suddenly by wrapping his arm tightly around you and switching places with you. It was clear that he was more focused on making this pleasurable and easy for you during your first time.

“Are you nervous?” He whispered intimately, hovering over you. His eyes were dimly illuminated by the candles filling the room, revealing only a hint of the bright blue that you knew was there. Your fingers traced his shoulder delicately, down to his arms, to his hand placed next to your head. You get so lost in his eyes, you momentarily forget he even asked you a question.

“No” you answered confidently, “I trust you”.

Obi Wan smiled at you and then diverted his attention south. He grabbed his member and lined it up carefully at your soaking wet entrance. With tremendous caution and patience for you, Obi Wan pushed his hips into you. There was a sharp discomfort inside you and you winced, noticeable to Obi Wan.

“I’ll go as slow as you need me to” he assured you, “I don’t want to hurt you”. He finally buried himself completely inside of you. You were so tight wrapped around him that he almost lost it immediately. It was such a wonderful new feeling to experience being this close to Obi Wan. Your body adjusted itself quicker than you anticipated to his size. He began to thrust slowly, still giving you time to adjust to him. A soft whimper escaped your lips, notifying Obi Wan that you were experiencing pleasure rather than pain now. Once his thrusts find perfect and steady rhythm inside you, he began to groan softly with you.

Your eyes met and locked on each other while he continued to curl his hips passionately into yours.

“Does that feel good, Y/n?” He moaned and kissed your neck gently.

“Yes, Obi Wan” You managed to mumble through your new feeling of pleasure.

Obi Wan becomes louder, his moans sounding so sweet to you. He couldn’t hide his pleasure on his face, and neither could you.

He swiftly moved your leg around him, placing his body behind yours, still deep inside you. You were both laying on your sides. He wrapped his arm around your waist in front of him to gather better leverage on fucking you deeply. There was something about this position that hit new sweet spots inside of you. You couldn’t help but let profanities fly from your mouth.

“Oh fuck, Obi Wan, yes” You breathlessly moaned. His hand moved from your waist to gently rubbing your still very sensitive clit. You twitched at this contact but he still lightly rubbed you, intensifying your pleasurable experience.

“Oh god, I’m gonna c-” you cried, unable to form the full sentence. That same euphoric feeling overcomes you again as Obi Wan continues to pound into you steadily. This time your orgasm was stronger, and you attempted to cover your mouth to muffle your sounds before Obi Wan protested.

“No, darling, I want to hear you” he purrs. You released what you tried to suppress into the air. You come down slowly from your high. He released his fingers from your clit and thrusted a little harder now.

His groans and whines were getting a little more choppy, indicating he must be close. He buried his face into your shoulder to muffle his sounds. His body tensed and he roughly gripped your hip as he reached his high.

“Y/n” He mumbled your name and growled while he released himself in your pussy, filling you.

He took a moment to recover before removing his dick from inside you. He laid flat, you do as well and move to lie against his chest. Neither of you speak for a while, and rather enjoyed the silence of being in each other’s presence. He kissed your forehead before breaking the silence.

“I love you, Y/n.” He stated suddenly. You smiled ear to ear, unable to hide how over-joyous you were to hear that. You’d heard it before, but it just felt different this time.

“I love you too, Obi Wan”

[nikkiwriteswords]

Hi! I would love to hear your thoughts/predictions/hopes for s3, now that we got the episode titles :D

Hey Nora!! Let me go grab my tua theory hat real quick. Spoiler alert, it looks exactly like the umbrella hat on the 3 right here:

Full disclosure, I've only got like a pinky toe in the tua fandom right now, but I'm still going to see what BS I can spin from these titles.

1. MEET THE FAMILY. The description on imdb is "The siblings get to know some more of the 43 children in an alternate timeline." So, I think this is pretty self-explanatory. Netflix likes to start things off with a bang, so s3 of TUA will probably be no different: we'll probably get a vague flashforward/flash-sideways to a "what if" scenario that will make sense by the last few episodes, and the rest of the episode will be sowing seeds for the s3 plot. The big question is, what family are we meeting? I think this episode will revolve around themes of family (no-brainer) and redefining the relationships between our Umbrella siblings in light of the season 2 finale, as well as their new Sparrow 'replacements'. To that end, initial Sparrow sibling parallels will be presented and subsequently complicated in this first episode. I also predict we'll see varying reactions to this alternate Reginald, as the Umbrella siblings are thrust into an outsider perspective that follows on from season 2.

2. WORLD'S BIGGEST BALL OF TWINE. This is going to be a multi-layered metaphor. I can feel it. It will no doubt refer to the plot that's about to unfold (is it an outside threat to both parties - the Umbrellas and Sparrows - from, say, the Commission, or is it more to do with the two rival Academies?), but I wonder if it also refers to the Wizard of Oz type scenario the Umbrella siblings find themselves in: they aren’t in Kansas anymore. (But you know what is in Kansas? The world's current biggest ball of twine.) Also kind of want to see Klaus knitting again in this ep - perhaps as a way to subtly re-address his ongoing addiction issues, especially now Ben is gone.

3. POCKET FULL OF LIGHTNING. This probably has to do with powers. Sparrow powers, Umbrella powers. There'll be a lot of new flexes in this season, so who this refers to is anyone's guess.

4. KUGELBLITZ. Here's where it starts to get interesting, because this title carries forward the subject of lightning from the last one. According to a very quick internet search, kugelblitz literally means "ball lightning" in German, and refers to both a) a glorified WW2 tank designed to take out aircraft (a certified Big Boi), and b) a theoretical black hole made from light/radiation rather than matter. So this is absolutely going to be a new, unseen power - probably from the Sparrows. Hopefully from Christopher because a cube executing a move named after a sphere just makes me chuckle. Ah, fun with shapes... But in addition, this power is probably going to pack a huge, debilitating punch to whatever narrative is underway at this point in the plot. I'll bet money that whoever wields this power is the tank character in their party or they are after this at least.

5. KINDEST CUT. This throws me back to the barber shop meta, I'm not gunna lie. Someone's going to get hurt, either physically or emotionally, and it's going to be the lesser of two evils. If it's a follow through on the barber metaphor, then Reggie will be the one to orchestrate it. Or, in a surprise twist, will he be the one gTetting hurt or being silenced? (Remember that cutthroat allegory that chases the siblings through the first season, particularly Allison and Klaus. It was about becoming voiceless.) 6.MARIGOLD. Big shout out to this post for spreading the word on the marigold symbolism. I'm pretty sure this will be Reginald backstory, which ties in with the creation of the Umbrella Academy. Also, because I'm a sucker for flower symbolism and reading into things, consider that marigolds:

a) fall into two families, the calendula which means "little clock" and the tagetes, which is named after the Etruscan prophet Tages. The Etruscans believed heavily in predestination - some events are set in stone, and cannot be changed. (Consider the way the apocalypse seems to always come for one set of siblings...) b) are named as such colloquially because they were offered in place of money to the Virgin Mary. (More divine imagery, and reference to a pure mother figure...) They are Mary’s gold. So maybe it’s a reference to Reginald’s wife, which would fit with the flashback scene we see in 1x10.  c) are a flower of duality. They have strong connections with the sun and resurrection, yet the marigold is thought to be a flower of grief because it blooms in autumn. Again, think about that flashback in the first season. At the end of the world and a wife dying, there was the promise of rebirth. d) It's also a very common flower. Remember, there's actually 43 siblings out there. We've only met 14.

Also Netflix loves to do this thing around the halfway point (usually episode 5/6) in a season they're producing. They'll switch up the narrative with a twist or turn that provides a new perspective. 7.AUF WEIDERSEHEN. Once again, a German connection. And, obviously, a goodbye. Considering the last season focused on Kennedy, are we going to get some earlier Cold War time-travel shenanigans? Or maybe WW2? I think Blackman has said something about the Berlin Wall, which is interesting. A country divided... Umbrellas and Sparrows allegory? But as an aside, I'm also kinda lowkey hoping it's a nod to Auf Weidersehen, Pet. If you don't know the show, here's the wiki summary for the first season:

Auf Wiedersehen, Pet is a British comedy-drama television programme about seven British construction workers who leave the United Kingdom to search for employment overseas. They find work on a German building site in Düsseldorf but despite promises of hostel accommodation, are forced to live in a small hut that reminds them of a World War II POW camp. The rest of the series is driven by the interactions and growing friendships between the various characters.

In episode seven, three of the “Magnificent Seven” visit an intercontinental hotel. Just saying. If s3 was to go this route, my money would be on Luther, Diego and Five getting up to shenanigans in this one. I miss 125 shenanigans.😢

8.WEDDING AT THE END OF THE WORLD. Honestly, I’m holding out hope that one of our fave siblings gets married. I feel like that’s a trap though... Actually I feel like it might actually be a trap. As in, this is when the rising action really kicks it up a notch. But also remember the title of 1x01: We Only See Each Other At Weddings and Funerals. Maybe the siblings get split up, possibly in episode 3/4, and they’re trying to reunite through episodes 5-7. Also thinking about hotels and apocalypses...  There’s something very fatalistic about these titles so far. I have a feeling that the B-plot or the subtext is going to reveal a lot more about Reginald’s history and the destruction of his world.

9. SIX BELLS. This makes me think of church bells, which is some nice continuity with the wedding of the last title. But church bells are rung for all sorts of reasons - as a call to worship, or in celebration or mourning, or to tell the time. (Thinking back to those marigolds suddenly.) But why six? Now I’m thinking of bell ringing (change ringing), and the way different bells have different cord lengths to control the time of their chimes. It’s a highly mathematical process. Will this episode be Five’s time to shine? Will he coordinate his siblings through a large attack? 10. OBLIVION. Does anything even need to be said about this one? Hotel Oblivion baby ✌✌ Any further theorising would require more knowledge of the coming plot tbh.

Edit: I wrote most of this at 2am, so I’ve just tidied it up a little. Thank you for the ask, Nora! This was fun to think about.