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harrywritingsbyme · 4 years

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Sunday Smut Concept #32

A/N: i can’t believe that i haven’t posted any smut for two consecutive fridays...it’s a bit weird tbh😂anyways, this one is crazy hot and I’m so happy that got past my recent writing anxiety a little bit to write a blurb for you guys bc this one is ✨spicyy✨it’s kinda loosely based on the “inspo” but who cares lmao...enjoy🙃

So this is hands down subby wife!y/n while older/ceo/daddy!harry is working.

Since Harry has been at home and working from his home office over the past couple of months, you’ve become incredibly needy for his attention. You were constantly looking for ways to have his eyes and focus on you and only you. From wearing the prettiest little dresses that Harry was absolutely obsessed with, to doing little things for him just to get a big cuddle or some kisses from him to say thank you, you made sure that you got some type of attention. Now along with being incredibly needy for his attention, you were also needy(well, more like desperate) for his cock. You just wanted to have his cock inside of you all the time. It could’ve been in your mouth, in your pussy, in your beyond tight second entrance, or even in your hand; that didn’t matter to you at all. All that mattered was that you got his cock. And right now, getting Harry’s attention and his cock were the only two things in your mind. You thought that you’d be able to be good and not disturb him for the entirety of the hours he’d blocked off for work but it was really hard. You couldn’t take your mind off of how good he made you feel first thing this morning. The memory of how hard he made your body shake, how he was able to make you beg for him to give you more and in one breath and make you beg for mercy in another lingered in your mind and it wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

This meant that you were going to were going to have to weigh what would make Harry “madder” per se; you touching yourself or bugging him while he’s in the middle of his work? Considering that you weren’t a big fan of really intense punishments, you decided to go with the ladder option. Harry was very picky with your pleasure. He wanted to be the only one who could perfectly and fully pleasure you. The only time he even considers allowing you to touch yourself is when the two of you have gone multiple rounds and he’s been unsuccessful at tiring you out. With that being said, you decided to have a go at bugging him. Before you went down though, you decided to slip on something that would make it a bit harder for him to say no. After picking through your drawer, you found the prettiest and softest set of baby pink lingerie that Harry couldn’t bring himself to rip off of you when you’d worn it before. He thought you looked too pretty in it for him to rip it off of you. So he didn’t. Which allowed for you to wear it again.

After carefully putting on the delicate garments, you adjust everything and you do a quick once over before skipping out of the bedroom, down the stairs, and to Harry’s office. As you got closer, your steps became slower and quieter, trying your best to keep some of the element of surprise in all this. When you reach the doorway, you stand quietly in the doorway as Harry continues on talking to his his employees through the screen. Instead of just lightly knocking on the door to get his attention, you decide to just stand there and let him discover your newfound presence in his office. Your hopes of not having to stand in the doorway half naked too long came true and within a few short minuets, Harry’s eyes were on you. When he sat back in his chair and looked up from the computer, his eyes and mind did an immediate double take. He didn’t know whether to address the fact that you were just standing in the doorway, the fact that you were pretty much naked and looked absolutely stunning, or the fact that his cock was growing in his pants. He also didn’t know whether or not he wanted to give your ass a couple swats for coming in when he was working or give you what you wanted. Either way, he was planning on enjoying this.

After a good minuet of going back and forth between ogling you and paying attention to he meeting he was in, Harry finally beckons you over to him with his index and pointer fingers. When he does this, you immediately push yourself off from the doorframe and make your way over to him. When you round his desk, Harry is quick to stop you in your tracks before signaling you to get on your knees and crawl to him, keeping his eyes steady on the screen in front of him. Now obviously it was to protect your modesty and keep you from flashing his employees(even though he was pretty sure someone accidentally walked in on you two in his office before). But there was a bit of a selfish reason behind his quick signaling. He just really liked to see you on your knees, especially when you were crawling and needy.

When you finally make it over to him, you waste no time laying your head on his knee and bringing your hand up his other thigh and to his lap where his cock was fully hard in his pants. When you do this, Harry’s breath immediately becomes labored and he could feel a warmth rising though his body.

“M’sorry to cut you off but uh, how about we take a 15? Stretch your legs a bit, get some water, and then we can wrap up for the day.” He immediately interjects. Upon agreement from his team, Harry is quick to turn off his mic and camera before turning out from the desk and focusing back on you. “Now what are you doing down there?” He huffs, sitting back in his chair and watching as you bring yourself between his legs, beginning to rub your face against his clothed cock.

“Want daddy to play with me.” You whine, continuing to move your face against the bump in his lap.

“M’working baby.” He coos down to you, managing to steady his breath a bit.

“M’throbbing for your cock.” You sigh.

“Why don’t you come up here so daddy can feel.” He instructs, smoothing his hand around the back of your neck and giving you a slight squeeze. In an instant, you’re removing your head from his lap, lifting yourself from the floor, and straddling Harry’s lap, dropping yourself right onto his clothed cock.

“I think daddy wants to play too.” You giggle, pushing yourself against him a little.

“He does sweets, just after he’s done with work.” He pouts, raising his hand up to your cheek to give it a little pinch. “Now lift up f’me.” He instructs, tapping your hip with his other hand. Once you’re no longer sitting on him, Harry brings a hand down between your legs to feel around. As soon as his hand comes in contact with your panties, his fingers are met with a warm and sticky mess between your legs. Your panties are essentially ruined and he can almost feel a really faint pulse in the area. “You really are throbbing doll. And made a complete mess out of daddy’s favorite panties.” He observes and reprimands.

“M’sorry.” You whisper back to him bashfully.

“S’not your fault that this cunt of yours is so greedy.” He chuckles, giving a little pat to your barely clothed and completely sticky and puffy mound, causing you to jump a little. Keeping his eyes on the area between your legs, Harry pulls you back down and begins moving you back and forth against the hard bump that is his cock. As he does this, you can’t stop the little mewls and whimpers from leaving you mouth as you enjoy the amazing feeling of his hard cock against your achey cunt. “Feel good?” He asks huffs sweetly, trying to suppress his own moans that were bubbling up in his throat, shifting his eyes up to your face. Your eyes were snapped shut and your mouth just hung open, letting your sweet moans and whimpers leave your mouth as he (with your help of course) moved you back and forth against him.

“Incredible daddy.” You sigh happily. “I want more.” You continue on.

“Daddy wants to give you more doll, but he has to get back to his meeting in a couple minuets. Can you preoccupy yourself in here while daddy finishes up?” He states, continuing to let you rock against him as he cups your cheek.

“Don’t know how.” You moan, continuing to enjoy the feeling of his clothed cock against you. When you say this, Harry immediately comes up with a solution to your little problem. See, you tended to come into his office a lot, wanting to be taken care of and loved on by him when he wasn’t exactly able to. Even though he wanted to just drop everything and take care of his girl, if he were to stop what he was doing, he’d end up loosing his train of thought and it would take a really long time for it to come back. So with that being said, Harry kept something in his desk drawer that never failed to keep you preoccupied before he was able to play with you and give you his full attention. He kept a suction dildo that was a bit smaller than his cock in his desk drawer so that you could ride or suck on that while he took care of business. He’d simply hand it over to you, and you’d suction it to the floor and just play with it until he took it away and gave you the real thing. And that’s what he planned on doing now. As you kept enjoying yourself in his lap, Harry reached over and pulled out the drawer on his desk to reveal the dildo. He quickly pulls it out and brings it down to tap at your lower stomach in order to get your attention.

“Can you play around with this while daddy finishes business? I’ll give you a treat if you can.” He offers, bucking his growing cock up into you towards the tail end, holding the sizable dildo up between you two in the process.

“Mhm s’so big.” You hum happily, wrapping your hand around the squishy and very sizable shaft of the dildo.

“But not as big as who?” He asks, tugging back on the toy.

“S’not as big as you daddy.” You hum back sweetly.

“Good girl, gimme a kiss.” He “asks”, cutely puckering his lips for you to connect yours. Without giving it a second thought, you bring your face in to connect your lips with his for a quick, sloppy, and tongue filled kiss. “Now take all of this off, don’t rip it baby, and play with this.” He instructs, completely letting go of the toy and giving your nose a quick peck.

You’re quick to climb off of his lap and sit yourself on the floor, a little bit away from him so you wouldn’t be in view, where you suction the dildo to the floor. Once it’s as secure as possible, you stand back up and you push your messy panties down your legs. And instead of dropping them onto the floor, you place the sticky panties along with your bra onto Harry’s desk since he liked this set so much. When you do this, Harry is quick to pluck the panties from the little pile you formed, bringing the drenched fabric to his nose for a smell. When he inhales the intoxicating smell of your arousal, Harry couldn’t help but relax in his chair and bring a hand down to to his cock through his pants. He then brings the fabric to his mouth to suck on it and get a little taste of you.

“S’not fair to tease daddy!” You exclaim below him.

“Well it’s not fair to be a fucking minx while m’in the middle of work. But I let you get naked and have the dildo right? So the least you could do is let me have the panties. Now how about you get to using said dildo.” He says bluntly, dropping the panties back onto the desk and sitting up in his chair. Without saying another word, you lift yourself onto your knees and position yourself right over the toy. Facing him, you then begin to sink down onto the dildo, letting out a loud gasp when you feel it push past your entrance. “Now don’t go down too fast, wanna watch it disappear into that cunt of yours.” He says, continuing to palm at his cock as you take the dildo inside of you.

“Feels so good daddy.” You sigh, enjoying the attention and feeling of being filled with something, even if it wasn’t Harry’s cock. In no time you’ve taken all of the dildo inside and as you begin to move yourself back and forth on the toy, Harry’s meeting is reconvening.

“I know it feels good baby, but m’gonna need you to keep quiet while I finish up in here.” He says, almost pleading with you to keep quiet.

“Okay daddy.” You sigh, beginning to pick up the pace of your hips on the toy.

“Good girl.” He praises before turning his camera back on and getting back into the meeting.

Over the course of the next 20 or so minuets, there is an immense amount of tension forming in the room. While you’re having a good time bouncing up and down on the dildo and feeling amazing, you’re also trying hard to not moan too loud or at all. You had a hand loosely around your mouth as the other was flat against the floor to hold your body up. You could feel the toy really pushing up into you and you were in love with how the veins on the shaft felt against your walls. On top of that, you are fantasizing about how you’d ride daddy’s cock if he wasn’t in a stupid meeting. Those thoughts only intensified the pleasure you were giving yourself. You could’ve sworn that you were in heaven from how good you were feeling. Harry on the other hand was dying. For starters he made sure to keep his mic muted. He didn’t want to keep it on and risk you (or him at this point) making a sudden outburst from the “situation” at hand. On top of that, Harry had is hand pushed into his pants, palming and tugging at his cock, trying to relieve some of the mounting pressure as he tried so hard to focus on the meeting and not on you or his cock. He was trying so hard to keep his normal straight face and not give away the fact that he was on the verge of combusting in the middle of this zoom call as well. All he could think about was how good your cunt would feel wrapped around his cock and how good it would feel to just fuck you until you’re quivering below him again.

But even though it was an enormous challenge, you and Harry were able to successfully keep your little situation a secret. You and Harry were also able to push yourselves extremely close to the edge. Precum was beginning to bead at Harry’s slit and you were feeling a warm tightening sensation in the pit of your stomach. Once Harry’s meeting was officially over, Harry was quick to end the call. Once he was sure that it was all hung up, he immediately stood up and pushed his sweats down his legs. Over the past 10 or so months, Harry really came to embrace the whole business on top and whatever the fuck he was comfortable in idea. He also hastily undid his shirt leaving him naked as well. Instead of just sitting back down and tugging his cock until he came, Harry walks over to you and stands right in front of your heaving body. When you see his big cock standing proudly in front of you, you’re quick to wrap your hand around his shaft before stuffing your mouth with him. When you do this, Harry is quick to pry your hands off of his cock before wrapping his hands in your hair and thrusting his hips into your face a couple times, causing you to gag a bit and slobber around him. Once he’s used your mouth and throat a bit, he then holds himself in your throat one good time before pulling out completely.

“Wanted to use that mouth of yours before I use your pussy.” He explains.

“M’so close daddy!” You whine out to him, continuing to grind down onto the dildo.

“Well come on sweetheart. Want you t’cum around my cock while I cum in that sweet pussy of yours.” He grunts, reaching down to tug you up and off the dildo.

Once you’re up and on your incredibly shaky legs, you’re immediately pulled up and into Harry’s arms. He then turns you both around and lays you right on the desk in front of him. Wasting no time, Harry pushes right into you, causing the both of you to let out a string of relieved moans. You were overwhelmed with the feeling of truly being full, and Harry was overwhelmed with how tight and wet you were. The both of you were at the very edge, extremely close to falling over and into your releases. Harry could feel just how close you were from the way you were clenching up and pulsating around his cock. It only took a good handful of hard thrusts before the both of you were falling apart at the seams. You were shaking and whimpering as you fell apart below Harry as you let go from the pleasure that was mounting inside. You let go so hard that you squirted all over him too. Getting his cock, part of his lower body, and his desk covered in your “heavenly drops” as Harry liked to call them. Harry too let go extremely hard, feeling thick rope after rope of his cum stream out of his cock and into the pit your stomach, painting your walls with his potent and creamy seed.

“Such a perfect and pretty little wife I have.” He admires through his pants once he steadies his breathing a bit, taking in your completely fucked out appearance. “So pretty, loves me so much, knows how to use a toy, has a perfect little cunt, lets me cum in her tummy, and lets me use her body. Absolutely perfect.” He praises. “Wanna have some more fun with daddy sweets?” He asks, bringing one of his hands down to fondle one of your breasts as he awaited a response.

“Please daddy.” You shakily breathe out to him, feeling exhausted but ready for more.

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angelicspaceprince · 3 years

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NSFW Alphabet Heisenberg Headcanons

For obvious reasons, this contains smut and is for 18+ only readers. Again, I’m posting only my headcanons onto tumblr, both can be found on my AO3

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Very grabby, has a tendency to be a little softer. Loves a good cuddle after sex, definitely praises you constantly. He loves to wash you down with a cloth, wiping away all of the cum, the sweat, the blood, the tears, as he murmurs soft words of praise and encouragement, pressing a small kiss here and there as he does so.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

I’m not entirely sure if Heisenberg would like any part of his body - it's just a vessel to him I believe. I think his favourite part of himself would be his discount magneto powers because that gives him the ability to create so many new tools to play with when it comes to having sex with you, some even on the spot.

For you, he loves your hands. He sees them as soft and gentle and he loves the feel of them in his work-worn, rough hands as he pushes you down into the bed, or them cupping his face as you pepper his face with kisses, telling him what a good boy he’s being for you, or when their wrapped around his dick as you jerk him off in a way that has him melting against your back and rolling his hips up into your palm.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

He loves cumming inside or on you, there is no way in hell he’d ever wear a condom. It’s a marking thing, he needs to make sure you know that you’re his. He doesn’t have a preference for where he cums, just as long as it’s somewhere on you. If you spit and not swallow, he thinks it’s a waste of his seed and gets huffy about it - he’d much rather see it across your face than down the sink.

He cums a lot and it’s ungodly thick as well.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He’s fucked a lycan, been fucked by a lycan, and he fucking loved it. Was tempted to fuck a soldat but that was a little too much for him.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing? )

I’d say pretty experience, if anything, he fucks the girls at the village mostly to spite and in an attempt piss off Miranda. He’d mellowed out about a decade before you met him, but definitely he’s had the time to gain quite a lot of experience.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Lotus, or any position where you’re on top of him. He enjoys grinding up into you and watching you come undone on top of him, but also means it's easier for him to grab at different parts of you - this goes for eating out too, he loves it when you sit on his face and ride him to completion. Loves mating press too, when he’s feeling particularly primal.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

By ‘goofy’ for H, I more think of sadomasochism or teasing you when you cum so hard you can’t see straight. I think he’d crack a few jokes here and there to make you laugh and you’d definitely have fun but for the most part, I think he’s more all about getting you riled up until you’re a trembling, begging mess.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

He is a hairy, hairy man who doesn’t give a shit about his grooming - he would have a thick and large amount of pubes that are wiry just like his beard. If you asked, he’d probably tame it down a little, but if you don’t care, it wouldn’t even cross his mind.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Only after leaving the village will he 100% let his guard down to be intimate during sex I think. There would be a lot of praise and stuff whilst you’re at the village, but it doesn’t really become too intimate until after everything has washed over. I fully believe the first time he says ‘I love you’ was in German and whilst you two were having possibly the most intimate round of sex you’d ever had in your life the first night after your escape from the village. After sex is usually where he’s the most intimate - where he will murmur softly against your skin about how good you are to him and how he adores you and can’t believe that you’re in his life.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

I feel like he’d jack off quite frequently before you were around and even then, it probably doesn’t change much once you’re there. If he has no time for sex with you and it’s literally just an urge to deal with so he can concentrate on his work? Then yeah, he’ll pull out his dick and stroke himself off as he continues to work without a care in the world. It’s just to clear his mind so he can focus on the task at hand, to him it's no different than eating or sleeping. Just something he has to do to get by.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

It’d be a lot easier to list the kinks he doesn’t have - shit, vomit and death. Beyond that, anything else is on the tables. His favourites would definitely include pred/prey, bondage, overstim, bloodplay, watersports, knife play, choking, cumplay/breeding kink, cockwarming, exhibitionism/voyeurism and marking/biting. He does have a preference for an active and willing partner, that being said CNC is also something he would enjoy as long as it was clear that both parties wanted it prior to the scene being played out.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Loves fucking at his desk - cockwarming especially. Loves cockwarming during inappropriate times too, like during family meetings. Or fucking you at Lady D’s house, edging you on and reminding you not to make a sound whilst making it impossible for you not to moan or scream his name. Anywhere and everywhere is an option for Heisenberg, but the riskier it is, the more he seems to love it.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Literally, anything and everything. A breeze hitting him the right way will get him horny. You could be walking past in sweatpants and a baggy jumper and he will want you bent over the bench with his dick railing into you. It doesn’t take much, the man ain’t fussy.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Killing someone during sex would be a big turn off. Involving any talk of Miranda or Lady D would also be off limits.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Doesn’t really have a preference. Is a master at getting you off with his mouth and will gladly spend hours dedicated to mapping you out and causing you to cum again and again with his just tongue. By the time he’s finished with you, you won’t be able to walk and you definitely will have a number of bruises and bite marks against your thighs as well as a pretty decent beard burn going on. His favourite thing to do once he’s pulled away is to put his cold hands against your thighs specifically where his beard burn is, just to feel you squirm and attempt to kick him away.

Receiving - he loves throat fucking you, or having you kneel under his workbench, tied up nice and tight, with his dick resting heavy on your tongue as he works, occasionally reaching down to stroke your hair, scratch at your scalp or fucking his hips up into you so you don’t get too cozy down there. Your jaw and throat always aches afterwards and he loves hearing how hoarse he’s made your voice - he will always have a drink waiting for you afterwards, but first he needs to hear how well he’s fucked your voice out.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

It’ll depend on the mood - definitely after leaving the village there is more of an opportunity for Heisenberg to reach a more romantic, slow and sensual pace (although it definitely happened whilst in the village, it was just rare as often Heisenberg used sex as a stress release as well as a way to feel like he’s achieved something or made someone proud), but his more natural pace will always be fast, deep and on the rougher side.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Good way to scratch an itch and was, for a good portion at the beginning of your relationship, the only way you’d have sex as the only reason you were having sex was to scratch an itch or for stress relief. As time went on, things changed and although ‘proper’ sex and longer sessions became the norm (especially because he loved to dedicate the time to map out every inch of your body and see exactly what makes you tick), he still loves a good quickie during the day.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

He will try anything once, after all it’s how you figure out if you like something or not! In terms of risks, if it's a risk of getting caught, he is more than happy to take it. If it's a risk to your safety? Not on his life.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

It doesn’t take long for Heisenberg to recover - unless you’re having a quickie, you best be ready for multiple rounds. Even if he can’t get it up, he will plaster his mouth between your thighs until your voice is hoarse and you’re squirming and weakly tugging at his hair in a vain attempt to pull him away. He loves feeling your strength pull away with each orgasm, seeing how weak and tired you become because of him. He’d never go too fair without prior warning, and if you safe-word out he will pull away instantly and be straight into aftercare mode. As for how long he lasts…..it really does depend on the situation, but if you have enough time and are in an environment where he feels safe, who knows how long he’d last. You have sat in his lap, cock buried deep inside of you for the entirety of many a family meeting, having to hide the fact that he was hard and throbbing inside of you. So, you know for a fact, he can last that long under stressful situations.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He’d make his own and have a little collection. He’d definitely think of something whilst working on his metal army, make it and instantly turn to find you to test them out. If it’s something a bit more intense, he’ll test it on himself first before seeking you out.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He loves to tease you and keep you on edge of your first orgasm, making it out that he’s close to making you scream only to pull back and watch you pout, beg or even scream in frustration. His favourite place to tease you, though, is in a place where you can’t protest or beg, where you need to be silent or keep whatever you’re doing a secret. That’s definitely when the worst of his teasing will come out.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

It will depend on the situation (see wild card for submissive!H), but usually? He wants to drink in the sounds he has you make - he’s all short grunt and growls and soft murmurs of praise against your skin and dark promises that merge seamlessly with general dirty talk with small groans and moans peppered throughout. If he’s had an awful day, however? He’s much louder, much more aggressive. He needs to fuck his emotions out - and this is definately when his pred/prey kink comes into full swing. He will chase you throughout the village, throughout his factory, wherever he can, and is nothing but growls and snarls, every sound coming from his throat animalistic. He also bites a lot more too, claiming you as his, and it’s the only time that his sounds are muffled slightly.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

If you get him worked up enough if you get the chance to dom him (he will sub for a selected few), he will always end up babbling out his begs in German. If you ask nice enough, he may order you around in German or Romanian, but the only time it naturally comes out is when he’s so far gone into subspace, so needy and desperate, that it’s just natural for him to speak his first language. In general, if you get him to sub for you, he will not shut the fuck up - all moans and whimpers and broken groans, small promises to be good for you if you would just touch him already . Bratty sub for sure, definitely into pet play. Will only ever be able to handle a gentle dom for obvious reasons, and has a major, major, major praise kink, both giving and receiving but get this boy into subspace and praise him and just watch him whine and squirm and ask for more. If he’s misbehaving at home and you jokingly say ‘behave pup’, he will get flustered so quickly.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Body wise, he is quite muscular but has a nice layer of fat to soften things out - it actually surprises you how strong he is from brute strength alone because he definitely doesn’t look it at first glance.

Cock wise - he’s more thick than he is long, average length but with a good amount of girth that has you feeling that stretch for hours afterwards.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

I’d say pretty high, but he is also good at distracting himself from it? During his tenure at the village, he’s so focused on escaping that it looks like his sex drive is low to normal. But the moment you get out of the village? Have your own place where it’s safe and no one is there to stop you? All bets are off, he cannot keep his hands off of you. Half of it is catching up for lost time, half of it is just the fact that the man is permanently horny.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

When domming: He doesn’t fall asleep often, but he will doze or rest his eyes for a second and enjoy the afterglow. He won’t leave to go back to work until you’ve fully conked out though, unless something desperately pressing comes up and he has to go. He’d rather spend this small amount of quality time with you and making sure you’re okay before leaving you alone and even when he does leave when you’re asleep, he has his eyes on his monitor with a live feed of you sleeping, just in case something goes wrong and you need him.

After subbing: He usually passes out pretty quickly. Subbing takes a lot more energy out of him than domming does, so once he’s cleaned up and has received his dose of praise and love, he usually falls asleep with his head in your lap, on your tummy or on your chest. He can’t wake up alone after a sub scene, even the very idea of it freaks him out, so you better make sure you have something to do as he naps because once he’s out, he’s asleep for hours.

#toby writes #fanfiction #toby's writing #fanfic #angelicspaceprince #bd/sm dynamics #karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg/reader #karl heisenberg #ns/fw headcanons #resident evil 8 #resident evil village

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in-my-feels-probably · 3 years

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INEFFABLE - Kaz Brekker

Chapter Three

If you would like to read this on Wattpad, it’s on there as well, my @ is in_my_feels_probably and there’s a few visuals and better descriptions and stuff on there. otherwise, enjoy, let me know what you think, and you can check out my masterlist for updates and more.

INEFFABLE - Kaz Brekker

ineffable (adj.) too great to be expressed in words, utterly indescribable; too sacred to speak of.

Chapter Three

A little while later, the Crows were back at the Slat. Elham and Inej were gathered around Kaz’s desk, Kaz furiously going over papers, constantly checking his pocket watch for the time. Inej was growing more and more uneasy by the minute.

“What was that, hmm? You want to tell me?”

Kaz didn’t even look up from his work. “Be more specific.”

“It was one thing when we had at least a week to find a way across the Fold, but sunrise? We have to say no.”

“No.” Kaz and Elham said simultaneously. Kaz and Inej both turned to look at Elham. She shrugged, picking at the skin by her nails. “I’m not letting Pekka Rollins or any other man like him get this kruge when we have a shot at it.”

Inej exasperatedly sighed, knowing this conversation was a losing battle. “We can’t go!”

“Can’t we?”

Elham opened her mouth to speak, but the words died on her tongue. Inej had pulled up her sleeve, revealing her Menagerie tattoo. Elham’s heart sank into her chest. She hated that Inej was indentured to Tante Heleen, and she hated thinking about what Inej had to go through before Kaz took her into the Crows. Thinking about it made her sick to her stomach. While it’s true that Barrel men were not good men, and Heleen wasn’t a man, her fate would remain the same. The Valkyrie would get to her one day.

Inej looked at the pair with pleading eyes. “I can’t go.”

“You will. I have a plan.” Kaz looked as determined as ever. Inej sighed, and Elham gripped her hand, trying to be of some comfort.

“No, you don’t.”

“Inej!”

Inej persisted. “I’ve worked for you long enough to know when you’re still figuring things out. You don’t know how to pull off this job.”

Kaz’s face was menacing, and Elham straightened up, ready to break the tension. “I still have six hours, and right now, you aren’t helping.”

“Maybe you find a way across, but that doesn’t solve this problem!” Inej shoved her wrist into his face, and Elham reached for her hand, trying to calm her. Kaz only grew more frustrated.

“If I can’t crack this, no one’s going.”

“And if you do?”

“Then maybe you stay here!”

“Kaz, stop, that’s too far and you know it.” Elham pulled Inej closer to her, slowly stepping between her and Kaz. She could see Inej’s eyes beginning to cloud. Inej leaned her head around Elham’s shoulder, directing her voice to Kaz.

“Maybe I won’t be here when you get back.” She let go of Elham’s hand, easing her way out of her grip, and quickly leaving the room. Elham sighed, before turning back to Kaz.

“Inej? Inej!” Kaz tried following her to the archway of the door, but she was already gone out the window. He turned and walked back to his desk, where Elham was standing with her arms crossed, waiting for Kaz to speak. He didn’t.

“Do you want to explain to me what the fuck that was? Why would you say that to her, and what plan do you have to get her out of her indenture? Or do you just not tell me anything anymore? You know I trust you, I want this heist to work too, and I’m here to help in any way I can, but you know that crossed the line. That was above your usual level of prick.”

He scoffed, almost grinning. “Always the sarcasm. You’re welcome to join her if I’m too much trouble for you. I really don’t have time for this.”

Elham’s face fell. Kaz almost winced. “You’re such a bastard! You’re lucky I want this just as bad as you, and I’m willing to deal with your bullshit. You’re just gonna have to deal with me. Now, what’s the plan?” Kaz sighed, before breaking eye contact and turning to look out his door’s window, peering out into the Crow Club. There was a sound back in Kaz’s office, and the two exchanged glances. Kaz headed towards it.

“Inej? Listen, I--” Kaz stopped. There were multiple sets of footsteps headed towards them.

Kaz slowly backed up, a light panic on his face. He motioned for Elham to get behind him, and she slowly withdrew her sword. Two men came up into the archway, slowly advancing towards them. Kaz eyed the men, before jabbing the end of his cane into one of the men’s stomach, sending him flying back. He swung again, before the other man caught the end of his cane, sweeping it out from under him. One of the men grabbed onto Kaz, angling him by his shoulders, smashing his head down onto the desk.

Elham was panicking. She could tell that these men were Dime Lions, and that meant nothing good. But she couldn’t watch Kaz be restrained and beaten, so she slowly eased behind one of the men, raising her sword. She angled her arm high, ready to swing, before a hand wrapped around her throat, her sword being ripped from her hand.

She looked up to see Kaz on his knees restrained, struggling against the two men, before his face paled. Elham was forced to her knees, a hand still wrapped tightly around her throat. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see another man walk into her line of sight, and he replaced her attacker's position, holding her back as well. Elham tried turning to see who the leader was, before he gripped her jaw in his hand, forcing her to turn back to Kaz.

“Ah, ah, dear.” Elham stilled, rigid, breath picking up. She knew that voice.

Pekka Rollins.

He moved to stand in between her and Kaz. Kaz’s breath had hitched, and he had stopped struggling, now still in his attacker’s grasp. His face was strained, and Elham knew how painful this must be for him. To not only have someone touching him, holding him against his will, but to have Pekka Rollins standing in front of him with the upper hand, and she desperately wanted to get out of her attacker's hold, to get her and Kaz out of his office.

“Evening. Mr. Brekker, is it?”

Kaz was seething. “You’re a long way from home.”

“Am I? Like you were earlier, when you took a Grisha from the Orchid.”

Kaz was struggling in the Dime Lion’s hold now, trying to back away from Pekka approaching him. “The Orchid isn’t Dime Lion’s turf.”

Pekka was kneeling in front of Kaz now, almost blocking him from Elham’s sight. “Well, it’s a new acquisition, hmm. You heard it here first...now.” One of Pekka’s men tossed him Kaz’s cane, and Kaz began to struggle.

“Now, I know you saw Dreesen. You got the jump on whatever job he has. I don’t want the details, obviously, it’s just that you have a little travel hazard ahead of you. So, here’s the deal. You can do nothing, walk away from it. I’ll tell Dreesen I’m taking over for you. Then we’re even.”

“Not even close.”

“Hang on. The other option is...I’ll cave your head in with your own cane and dump you in the harbor. Hmm?” He had wrapped the head of Kaz’s cane around his neck, pulling him closer. Kaz’s breathing had picked up, he was clearly panicking and struggling.

Elham couldn’t take it anymore, and leaned as far as she could towards Pekka. “Leave him alone! Do whatever the fuck it is you came here to do, and go, just let him go, or we’re going to have a problem.”

Pekka swiftly turned, striking her across the face with the end of Kaz’s cane. He once again wrapped his hand around her throat, leaning in close to her face. She kept a cold facade, staring him down, ignoring the blood that was dripping from the cut in her eyebrow down her face.

“Don’t fucking touch her!” Kaz struggled to get to Elham, but Pekka just waved his hand in his direction, and the men tightened their hold on Kaz, pulling him back. “Brekker, you do that again, and it’ll be her head I cave in with your own fucking cane.” He turned back to face Elham, caressing her face. She leaned her head back as far as she could, before launching spit in his face.

Pekka calmly pulled a cloth from his coat, wiping his face. He returned it to his pocket, before turning back to Elham. He backhanded her across the face, and she could hear Kaz grunt behind Pekka in distress. “You’re a feisty one, eh? I’ll be out of your hair in just a minute, love, just give me a minute. And do shut up, I’d hate to put another scar on that pretty face.”

Elham sucked in a breath, setting her gaze on the floor. Pekka was satisfied with that, turning back to Kaz.

“Now, where were we? Ah, yes, you can drop the deal, or I can dump your bodies in the harbour. That first option seems better now, don’t it?” He backed away from Kaz, standing up. Before he could turn to leave, Kaz spoke up.

“Tell me...have we ever made a deal before?”

“You and me? Nah. Otherwise you’d know better...or you’d be dead.” He turned away, picking up Kaz’s cane, smashing it on the table. He grabbed Elham’s sword from up off the ground, examining it. She shook her head, struggling.

“This is a fine little blade...I like the hilt, it’s real fancy. I think I’ll keep it.” He smashed the sword against the table, bending the blade. He put it on the ground, pressing his foot against the end of it, popping and twisting the hilt from the top of the sword.

“Come on.” He motioned for his men to follow, and they released their hold on Kaz and Elham, pushing them to the ground. They left Kaz’s office.

Kaz scrambled towards Elham, who was rubbing her wrists, trying to soothe the skin from the tight grip that held them. She looked up at Kaz, eyes tearing up, noticing the bruise forming on his temple.

“Are you ok, Kaz?”

“Am I ok? He hit you in the head with my own bloody cane, he fucking hurt you, are you ok?” Kaz was gritting his teeth, trying to keep his composure. Rollins had hurt her, right in front of him.

She mustered up a smile, wiping at the blood on her face, wincing. “I’m fine. He broke my fucking sword though.” She wiped under her eyes, taking a deep breath. Pekka was going to pay for tonight.

“Saint’s, Elham, we can replace a sword.” He didn’t say it, but his tone was clear. She knew what he meant.

We can’t replace you.

Her eyes softened. “Are you ok, Kaz? You know what I mean.” He did know. She didn’t mean the pain, or having to see her get hurt, although that alone was enough to make him hurt. She was talking about seeing Pekka after so long, being restrained against his will, being touched. On top of it all, his cane was broken.

He couldn’t deny that his skin was crawling, that his head was clouded with thoughts of Jordie, that the waters had risen. That he knew this mission would be near impossible without the support of his cane.

But she was there.

She was there, and she was hurt, and neither were in the mood to be any more vulnerable than they just were. He just nodded his head. “I’m fine, El. You need to get that cut cleaned up.”

She just nodded, uneasily standing up, feeling on edge, glancing around. He stood, watching her uncomfortableness, seeing her eyes cloud. He knew what she was thinking.

“You’re safe. I’m not going to let anyone get to you. Now come on, we’ve lost too much time.”

He handed her a cloth off his desk for her to wipe some of the blood off with. She held his gaze, looking at him thankfully, and nodded, following him to the door.

---

A/N - hey guys, here's another chapter, i hope you like it! i'm trying my best not to go too out of character and keep it realistic, but it's just so fun to write some sappy shit. anyways, i'll have another chapter out soon, i hope you liked this one, let me know what you think. as always, comment or message me with anything, check out my other work, requests are open, and thank you so much for the support!

#wattpad #six of crows #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker #shadow and bone #x reader #ineffable #in my feels probably #oc

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joontier · 4 years

Text

“V” | part one

synopsis: You zinged. With the captain. Who was human.

pairings: kim taehyung x female reader

rating: R (18+) | genre: smut, fluff, angst, crack, minor angst (as of now) ,fantasy, (unknowing) enemies to lovers trope; captain! taehyung x vampire! reader, based off Hotel Transylvania and Girl’s Trip! | warnings: plenty of sexual innuendos, explicit sex) (groping, fingering, exhibitionism,

word count: 13.1k

g/n: im splitting this into a two/three shot because i really wanted to post this bc the coward in me is afraid that if i finish and post the whole thing this app might crash on me ajfoiawjefiajwfa n e ways, enjoy this first part and please let me know what you think!

one. | two. | three.?

navi | m.list

Albeit recorded as one of the smallest countries in terms of area and population, the country of Tersnoa proudly boasts its multiple attractions and rich culture. As the nation’s economy depends heavily on tourism, Tersnoa is considered a hidden treasure amongst the genuine travelers - human and monsters alike.

Santa Shelea - the monster capital of Tersnoa, is located beneath the lush woods of the small country, hidden to the human eye. Entrance to the city you grew up in is a privilege given only to monsters, though it wasn’t always like that.

The city used to nurture human and monster liaisons, with relations surpassing mere diplomacy. Humans and monsters shared friendships that run deeper than their contrasts in physical attributes and their innate characteristics. It was a time when both parties realized they were so much alike in plenty of ways and respect was observed by all despite the differences in appearances and culture. Admittedly, monsters had more to sacrifice with these accords due to your more primal urges, but your kind made it work, for the sake of peaceful coexistence.

The other party, however, did not seem to share the same sentiments for long.

Santa Shelea was one of the few places left on Earth where monsters sought refuge as your kind of people were constantly drawn out of the places they used to peacefully live at by the humans themselves. You thought Santa Shelea was different - that these people you once even considered family wouldn’t push you away just like what the others did, but it wasn’t before long that the human citizens of the once-glorious city were going to change their minds.

These selfish, pompous humans conducted an uprising to protest against the presence of monsters in ‘their’ land. It was an awful time to have grown up in, being called a ‘monster’ in all senses of the word, especially from those people you have even considered friends. The human citizens conducted an uprising in Santa Shelea, protesting the presence of monsters in ‘their’ land, ultimately disturbing the peace of the city.

Humans burned your houses down to the ground, including your helpless mother in their supposed quest for peace. After having kept the harmonious liaisons for quite some time, your kind had gone back to your primitive instincts, fighting for your rights along with an army of beasts, hybrids, witches, and members of the undead. It was catastrophe epitomized, a day that no one wishes to relive.

It isn't fair to say that the monsters emerged victorious when so many had perished, your mother included. Eventually, these mortal beings realized there were no match for formidable creatures and soon took their leave of the once prosperous city. Soon enough, humans became history to monsters and vice versa.

Rebuilding your beloved city from scratch was no easy task, proving to be even more difficult with the agony that came with burying the past. To prevent any more man-made disasters in the future, the witches had agreed to cast a spell over Santa Shelea: that your city will forever remain invisible to the human eye.

And it has remained such until the present, appearing as part of the picturesque mountain ranges Tersnoa has to offer. Far from the city and beneath the mountains of lush forestry, Hotel Tersnoa stands tall in the middle of Santa Shelea - the city where monsters thrive. If you could only speak for yourself, the city could easily pass as the eighth wonder of the world.

Hotel Tersnoa isn’t the only legacy handed down from your great-great-great-grandfather (“G4 for short”, he’d offered one day, explaining that he had to ‘blend in with the now’). During the past millennia, he had also established a conglomerate of enterprises across the world. He’s even founded BloodHub, an international focus group centered on blood diseases and blood donations but you wouldn’t want to delve on the beginning and end of that.

The responsibility of taking over the hotel had been passed on to your father since then and his ardency for the hotel was unparalleled, the bequest of the hotel has surpassed the original Hotel Tersnoa of which your grandfathers had initially envisioned it to be. Your father would spend hours on end surveying every detail, nook, and cranny of the beloved establishment, barking orders left and right.

On top of being a father, he had busied himself with the responsibilities of a hotelier. Yet you knew deep down it was all but a façade to mask the void that your mother left in his heart. There were many nights you’d caught him staring into the distance in a secluded place, away from the hustle and bustle at the hotel. You loved your father dearly, wanting nothing else for him but the happiness he truly deserves.

When you had turned of age, you insisted on taking over the hotel in your father’s stead. You knew that your mother’s passing had been a toll too great to bear for your father, especially in a place where he is constantly reminded of her. You wanted him to enjoy his life, to bring back the life in his eyes, however ironic it may sound as part of the undead.

Your father had disapproved of the idea at first, reasoning out that it was too big of a responsibility to hand over. He’d told you that you were still young and he wanted you to enjoy your life while you still could. With your adamancy and endless prodding, you had finally convinced him to cave in. Besides, you’re pretty sure you’ll stay young for a long time.

As you have taken on the commitment of being the lady of the house, or hotel rather, your father spent his time moving from one place to another, taking on different identities so as not to reveal his real one. When you were just starting out with your duties as the new hotelier a few years back, he couldn’t leave you behind for a day, checking up on you every two hours just in case an emergency occurs. As if something drastic could happen when more than half of your customers are already dead.

Years pass by and hourly check-ups became daily ones and then weekly afterwards, until he calls you from halfway across the world every once in a while, just to tease you if the hotel was just as great as he left it. You hadn’t actually seen him in a year, apparently ‘busy’ with his new business venture in Amsterdam.

That’s why when you pick up his scent nearby, you momentarily stop in your tracks. It isn't exactly unusual for your father to have impromptu visits, but you’ve learned that it’s highly unlikely for your father to drop by at such a time like this.

He avoids peak season at Tersnoa like the plague, let alone a Friday the 13th special like today, in addition to the most anticipated week-long celebration of the hotel’s six hundred and sixty-sixth anniversary. Your father steers clear of times like these at all costs, always making up excuses to avoid the crowd and the stress that comes with it. So much for being the past manager.

You can’t really hold it against him, as it surely has been an arduous feat having run the hotel for almost two centuries. Even though you both laugh it off whenever you tease him about it, you know deep down he genuinely enjoys attending to his customers and making sure they get the best customer service.

A scoff escapes your lips when you see the infamous Drac-cape nearing. You’re mildly tempted to ignore him altogether, not wanting to be involved with someone who wore something that has run out of style decades ago. Secondhand embarrassment is a thing, and it’s very real.

You have already lost count of the times you’ve told him to get rid of the ridiculous piece of clothing, yet he dismisses you every time, clinging onto the nostalgic feeling that comes with the cape. In consideration of your request, your father had gone so far as acquiring the services of a handful of stylists to make some alterations to the design, and you have to say you’re pretty impressed with the outcome. What else could you have said? The Drac-cape was old but gold.

You’re about to greet him when a staff approaches you, holding out a folder with papers that require your signatures. Your father stands a meter away with a proud smile, watching you with fondness in his eyes. Once you finish with the papers, he calls out, “Ah, my princess,” arms wide open to greet you with a hug. He’s the first to pull away, hands still resting on your shoulders as he takes a good look at you. “You grow up so fast!” he says jokingly with a wide smile plastered on his face as he pinches your cheeks.

There’s something off though, something suspicious behind that painstakingly dubious grin on his face. Smiling wasn’t something your father was fond of doing especially in public - too deep into portraying the character of the dark and brooding Dracula depicted in human children’s stories. Plus, your fangs sometimes get in the way, so smiling isn’t really a preferable option.

Before you get the chance to ask about his sudden visit, another staff member approaches you, another folder in hand. Your father shoos you away before you object, dragged away by your duties for the millionth time tonight.

“What is it now?” you ask the skeleton beside you, every sound of his movement resembling that of a marimba. “Your presence is being requested by Ms. Catherine at her party, Countess.”

You’d almost forgotten your cousin Catherine had rented out the hotel’s rooftop to celebrate her engagement to her long-time boyfriend Jericho. You’ve already congratulated and apologized to her plenty of times prior to this day, already knowing that you won't be able to celebrate it properly because of the events being held at the hotel. With the hectic schedule you were running on, you just realized that you hadn't visited her all day.

It had been a very long week, and you were tired to the bone, but the guilt of not being physically present at her party was gnawing at you endlessly. Almost reaching the point that you forgot your father was just in front of you mere seconds ago - and now he’s disappeared, again.

Heeding to your cousin’s call, you decide to leave the area, leaving a puff of smoke behind you. You reappear the same way at the rooftop, just beside Catherine herself, who looked like she was hiding from someone, crouched behind a table.

“Who are you guys hiding f-” Unable to finish your sentence with Cat shushing you, you crane your neck up a little, glancing at the others who were in similar dispositions. Weren’t they all too old to do this in an engagement party? Or was this a new trend Cat wanted to start?

Your heart clenches nevertheless at the hilarious attempt to hide from whoever or whatever it is they were hiding from. It was quite the scene: an orange tentacle slithering its way to steal a cupcake by the buffet table, Barry Blob thinks he can camouflage as jelly, and Bigfoot was… well, let’s just say he was never meant for a game of hide and seek. The only monster one would have expected to be good at this was your uncle Griffin who was born invisible but he was always the one first spotted because he thinks wearing disguises like a hot pink wig (his choice of the day) would make him unnoticeable.

And yet this is what they supposedly call ‘hiding’.

“Is this the new norm during engagement parties? Hiding from the responsibilities of married life I see,” you suppress a snicker with your palm, and when Cat looks back at you to shut you up, she screams with such fright, alarming everybody on the rooftop.

“Surprise!” Mandy Mummy, one of your closest friends, appears from the other side of the table.

“You guys were meant to surprise me?” Your brows furrow. “Are you all sure? What’s the occasion?”

Frankie Frankenstein emerges from behind the bar, throwing a suspicious look at you. “You’re kidding me, right?”

You look at the others in the hopes of finding a hint behind what was really going on, but Cat beats you to it, extending her arms out as she beckons you closer, “I don’t know how a monster could possibly forget the day she was born, but we’re here now so, happy birthday my dearest forgetful cousin!” Cat gives you an extra slap on your ass in greeting.

Realization finally hits you, reminiscing the short moments throughout the day that had hinted on your birthday. You did see a few of your staff nudge each other in your presence, but you only thought it was because they were hesitant to say something when they knew that it had been a hectic week so far, tight schedules and all.

The rest of the crowd clear out, revealing themselves from their hiding places. Your father appears from one side, carrying a dangerously huge three-tiered cake.

Mandy approaches first, narrowing her eyes at you, “Wait, you seriously forgot your own birthday?” Cat answers in your stead, “She did,” while she points a finger to her temple, reiterating her capability of subjective precognition to the rest of the group.

“Uncle Drac! Can you remind me again how are we related?”

“I wanted to ask the same thing!” Your father exclaims, grabbing a glass of champagne from a gargoyle waiter and trailing off to greet his friends.

“Cat, you know I’ve been busy for so long, I don’t exactly have a birthday countdown every year to remind me of something that is...not really that significant.”

“______, I know we’re practically dead, but that doesn’t mean you have to live like one.”

“Why don’t you try living in my shoes then, hm?”

“I would, if they were Valentinos.” Unable to rack your brain for a smarter response, you roll your eyes at her instead. The guests start singing happy birthday in chorus as they near you. The night continues on a light note, people wishing you another year of happiness and prosperity, likewise congratulating your cousin for her engagement and her soon wedding.

As the conversation eventually moves on to wedding preparations, Frankie spills on the details of Cat’s plans for her bachelorette party. You weren’t so keen with the idea - not when this was the first time it had been offered by the people closest to you.

Bachelorette parties were primarily a human thing - some sort of commemoration of debauchery as you had understood from Google when you had looked it up a few years ago. These kinds of celebrations weren’t exactly included in your traditions but judging by the photos you’ve seen online; you’re sort of glad this wasn’t classified as the norm in your world yet.

Cocktail parties with half-naked bartenders? Masseurs drenched in vaseline? Topless butlers serving dinner? What was with having male nudity as the baseline for such an occasion?

You didn’t think this was going to be a trend in the monster-verse anyways, as your kind comes in different shapes and sizes and these parties just might end up with one seeing a lot more than necessary.

When you try to confirm the plans with Catherine, she just shrugs at you three, telling you all that it was going to be a surprise. You, Mandy, and Frankie groan in unison at her reply.

“Impatient much? You still have the whole day tomorrow to pack your things.”

“We’re going on a trip?! And you’re telling me about this just now? A day before our leave?!”

“Yeap. How long does it take you to pack your clothes?”

“Do you not realize that I have a whole ass hotel to manage? I mean it’s not like I don’t want to go but surely, all my responsibilities cannot be handed over in a span of twenty-four hours? Plus, our week-long six hundred and sixty-sixth anniversary special isn’t over yet! You could have at least told me two weeks ahead?”

Someone places a hand on your shoulder, and you look up to see your own father smiling at you. “You’re just like your mother, darling. Stop worrying so much!”

“Exactly why I told him instead,” Cat raises her eyebrows at you as she points to your father. “Catherine’s right. So, I’ll be taking care of the hotel while you girls have some girly time by yourselves,” he says, taking a sip of his drink.

“Are you sure you can handle Hotel Tersnoa?” Your father almost spits out the champagne as he looks at you incredulously. “Excuse me? Need I remind you who handed the hotel over to you?”

“I know, it’s just… a lot has changed. We’ve expanded the hotel, there’s now a theme park, and a new island has just been opened… it can be a lot…”

Your father dismisses your worries with a wave and a kiss on your forehead. “Nothing I’ve never done before. You’ll be back before you know it. What could possibly go wrong?”

Right. Your father’s words echo in your head.

What could possibly go wrong?

“A cruise?!”

You’d gone through hours of travel, your ass was hurting from the prolonged sitting, and Catherine had not once told you where you were headed, mouth zipped shut. And yet here you were, mouth agape in shock – the betrayal, the treachery, the deception.

Docked in front of you is a humongous white ship, honking its siren with all its might. You’re struggling with attempting to even comprehend the entire situation. Your cousin did not just drag you out of your hotel to another… hotel...on water.

“Welcome to the Bermuda Triangle, where you’ll embark on a monster cruise of a lifetime,” announces a fish-man or man-fish creature clad in a sailorman’s outfit (well he was definitely a fish, but had the limbs of man). All your expectations for this trip had just been obliterated by a singular monotonous, unidentifiable being.

“Psst. Why is your face like that? I heard the fare was astronomical!” Frankie whispers when Mandy squishes between you two, trying to get a brochure from a stall nearby.

Everybody knew Cat was more than willing to spend her money on anything she has set her eyes on (just like that exclusive collection of Hermes bags she has back home) and actively looks for other ways to spend her money (such is a costly cruise) so this trip didn’t surprise you as much as it did Frankie. You’re wondering though, how she found out about this cruise and why she intends to celebrate her bachelorette’s party here.

If a disinterested man-fish was tasked to welcome its guests, well, you can tell there’s really nothing much to look forward to here. You just hope this cruise will give her money’s worth, or rather, at least half of it.

“Hey! This looks amazing!” Mandy exclaims, flipping the colorful brochure over a couple times. “There’s even a waterpark, multiple dining options, bowling alleys, a theater…”

“Sounds like everything you can do…at the hotel!” You can’t help the rising pitch of your voice by the end of your reply while your friends laugh at your indignance. Mandy and Frankie ignore your protests, while Cat whispers near you, “Wait ‘til you see the itinerary!”

“Not you too?! Seriously though, I don’t get why you’ve chosen to do it here, instead of our own hotel…” you pout, head hung low.

Cat pulls you aside, letting the other passengers move forward, “Listen to me darling, alright? All these months, years, all you did was work and work and work again, we barely had any time to hang out together just like the old times, so I figured a break from all your customer service shenanigans and let yourself be served for once. Take a vacation from running everyone else’s vacation. Is that alright with you?”

Giving her an apologetic smile, you pull her into your arms for a tight hug. She wasn’t lying though when she said you had barely spent time with each other. Back when your father was still running the hotel, you’ve spent your early years always practically attached at the hip: from crying over your first boyfriends, through that emo high school phase, to pursuing several degrees, and to spontaneous trips halfway across the world when you were bored.

“Plus, Jer and I intend to start a family as soon as we get married, so these girl trips won’t come by often all the more.”

“You know I love you to the moon and back right? And will you stop making me feel like an aunt when I’m not yet one?! But, to be honest with you, that would be really cute though! Little you and little Jerichos running around… but you know, if Jer will come close to laying a finger on you, just say the word…”

“We zinged, darling. You have nothing to worry about. Maybe you’ll find your zing on the cruise too.”

You roll your eyes at her fondly. As if.

It doesn’t change the fact that you still have second thoughts about this trip. Begrudgingly, you climb up the stairs, sulking as you watch your friends and the rest of the group of the monsters huddle in excitement as they ‘oohed’ and ‘aahed’ at the cruise’s features.

When you spot a few of Hotel Tersnoa’s beloved patrons in the group that arrived with you, your heart sinks a little, refusing to believe a fancy cruise could ever question their loyalty to the greatest monster hotel known to your kind. Guess nothing ever truly lasts, even with the undead.

You had initially expected the ship’s interiors with no sort of identity at all, resembling an array of badly mixed cocktails, individually appealing yet when put together looks like a lousy rainbow (you swear it’s not the spiteful hotelier inside you that’s speaking). Much to your chagrin though, the imaginary cruise you had inside your head was definitely not the case at all.

The rest of the monsters behind you continue to marvel at the cruise ship. And, quite frankly, you too are quite impressed yourself, as much as you hate to admit it. You’d never though such modern, minimalistic styling could fit a hotel on water but this cruise just seems to carry it pretty well.

The moment you set foot on the carpeted floors of the cruise, you’re awed at what seems like a celebration of the beauty of mother nature with nearly all furnishings made out of organic materials and colors exhibiting earthly hues. To add to the experience, preserved palm tress line the corridors and chandeliers made of LED lights litter the varnished high ceilings. It was like land on water – if that made any sense at all.

Man-fish continues to lead your group through the hallways, until you arrive at the main deck, just as picturesque as shown on the brochure Mandy held onto earlier. You were starting to realize why your cousin was into this whole cruise.

The creature half your height goes on to share a little history on the cruise ship – known as the Legacy. Similar to your hotel, cruising lines was also a family business for decades but it was only this year that the owners decided to extend the lines from taking human passengers to making a whole ship exclusively for monsters.

As this was the vessel’s maiden voyage and with your group being the first batch of guests to ever board the ship, a welcoming event was to happen tomorrow night, and the creature mentioned something about having the official invites placed in your rooms along with your luggage.

Right on cue, the moment you lean on the railing to overlook the deck below, a marching band appears from the side – a whole parade of man-fishes clad in band uniforms and red and gold. There’s even a few of them who start doing acrobatics, the sight of which has Frankie giggling to herself as she comes up with the term ‘fishcrobats’. She claims she’s the punniest monster in the universe.

The lights on the deck dim suddenly, and bright bursts of color start shooting up from a deck above you, fireworks lighting up the evening sky. It was a breathtaking display, with the others spiraling upwards while the rest exploded into a thousand more sparks. The display continues for a few more minutes, until the band makes a drumroll and a spotlight moves across the length of the ship and points at someone across the deck.

“Woah…” Mandy gapes, words drawling out to a low whistle. “Who. Is. That.”

A man in an all-white dress uniform emerges from the upper deck. “Ahoy there! Welcome aboard! Bienvenido, Zdravstvuyte, Guten Tag, Bonjour! I am V, captain of the Legacy…” Applause follows as the fireworks die down completely. “And yes, I’m human, but don’t hold that against me.” The captain’s eyes scan the crowd until they meet yours. He winks.

As soon as the blonde-haired captain looks away, Frankie squeals in your ear. “He totally just winked at you!”

“No, he didn’t,” you retort, never having been so grateful for not having a pulse, else Frankie would have your heart beating out of your chest.

“Yes, he did.”

The two of you were about to start bickering about the wink when the captain continues, “I’m very excited to have each and every one of you onboard for our very first monster cruise!” As unusually graceful as nobody else could probably do, he slides down the railing of the stairs as if he were just gliding through thin air.

“You’ll enjoy gourmet dining, thrilling adventures, and non-stop entertainment – all on our way to our final destination: the lost city that isn’t lost anymore – Atlantis!”

Your jaw drops – not because Atlantis had ‘apparently’ been found, in fact, it was never lost in the first place; they just cut ties with surface dwellers because of damage brought about by water pollution. In your defense, it was the humans were uncontrollable with their despicable habits but you can’t really put the blame on the Atlantians. It was their home after all, and they only wanted to protect it. Just as you would with Tersnoa.

What truly surprised you though, was how he managed to snag a partnership with them when you had vying for one since you took over the hotel. Well, your business proposition was never officially offered on the table, but still! Perhaps, if you made an entrance as grand as him, you would have succeeded though.

It was getting crowded where you stood, and Mandy tugs at your hand, pulling you down to the lower deck. Begrudgingly, you go down the stairs, sulking as you watch your friends and the other monsters huddle in excitement. You even recognize a few of the other passengers who are likewise patrons of Tersnoa. Or at least they were, now. Guess nothing truly ever lasts, even with the undead.

He reaches the lower deck in no time, greeting the other monsters with a wave and a smile. When he nears and you get a better look at him, you feel your entire body shudder – in a strangely delightful way, wave after wave of this electric feeling reaching until the very tip of your toes.

It feels as if every vein inside of you is pulsating, despite being practically dead. You felt…alive. A million thoughts rush through your head, with your gut feeling telling you something that is almost unmistakable. You have never, ever felt this way before but your intuition tells you this is the exact embodiment of the stories you’ve heard so many times in your lifetime. Could it be? Was it even possible?

The sensation was inexplicable, foreign too, yet it felt right. Like… like it was meant to be, perfectly destined in the most peculiar of ways. Digging through your purse, you retrieve the small mirror inside made specifically for vampires. Taking a quick glance of your reflection on the glass, you take notice of your irises that have turned purple, almost lavender in color. Gulping, you return the mirror into your purse at once, confirming your suspicion.

You zinged.

With the captain.

Who was human.

Frankie nudges your shoulder when she notices you stiffening beside her. “Is everything okay?” You feel your friend’s blue, stitched hand land on your shoulder. Giving Frankie a short reassuring nod in response, she shrugs it off, not before hearing her mumble about noticing something different with your eyes. Thankfully, the manifestation of the zing comes in different ways with every monster specie, so Frankie wouldn’t get the hint that you’re in deep, deep trouble.

Years of listening to stories of your culture and traditions rush to your head, all with the same words resonating throughout your brain. ‘It can make you cry; it can make you high; but, one thing a zing never does is lie – for it stays with you until you die.’

Shaking your head, you attempt to rid your thoughts of this man. He shouldn’t be your zing; he can’t be your zing. This was a huge mistake. The must’ve made a mistake. How could the very kind of people who murdered your own would also be the one designated for you – a soulmate, in human’s terms. You don’t even know how you're supposed to react to such a thing. Was it a curse? A blessing perhaps?

You continue to watch the man in silence. Sweet baby Jesus, the visuals this man was bestowed with. Maybe the man up there was real after all, and he had spent all seven days to craft this ethereal being. Even if he was meters away, his mere presence already makes you weak in the knees – considering the fact that you really haven’t officially met the person.

With his almost unrealistic face, you’re left wondering if your bodily reactions were caused by your zing or the captain really holds such prowess over creatures of all kinds. You wonder if it’ll be easy to forget your painful past and move forward? Trust the zing like all monsters do?

After promulgating the greatness of the monster population and how big of an honor it is for him to hold the first ever monster cruise, he also apologizes afterwards on behalf of his fellow humans for the mistreatment of your kind, drawing nearer and nearer to your group, eyes trained on you when he’s not busy welcoming the other monsters.

In an attempt to keep yourself from trembling, you clasp your hands together. Momentarily taking his eyes off you as he greets another guest, Mandy leans toward you and nudges your rib, “That, my friend, is what you call: a hottie. Go get him, tiger!” Blinking your eyes, you recollect yourself, giving her a dubious look, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Honey, anyone with a single working eye can confirm to themselves that the captain has been hand-sculpted by the gods themselves. And don’t tell me you don’t notice the bed eyes he’s giving you the whole time,” Mandy chortles bandaged shoulders bumping against your own as she does. “Deny it all you want now, darling, but I have this gut feeling that the love boat will be sailing very soon.”

Just then, as if on cue, the captain makes a beeline for your group, a small sultry smile playing on his lips. You feel like your insides wanted to crumble into sand and disperse into thin air. God, the things this man does to you…Rather, the things you want him to do to you. Now, your own brain betrays you with inappropriate thoughts and he’s currently in front of you looking like a whole course meal. He has such pretty eyes too and oh- this is bad. This is very bad.

“Ah, if it isn’t the one and only Countess Dracula,” he says, voice low as his eyes bore themselves into your soul (as if you still had one). “May I?” The captain takes your hand in his and gingerly places a kiss on the back of your palm. You’re rendered speechless by the small gesture, while the rest of your friends gape at the captain like he had suddenly grown three more heads.

“I’m known as V around here,” he keeps your hand in his, and you’re instantly all too conscious of everything – what if your hand was too cold for him? Or too clammy perhaps? All your worries are diminished when he doesn’t seem to take notice of any of your present worries, tugging you closer to him as he inches towards your face, warm breath fanning against your cheek, “but you can call me Taehyung.”

He pulls back just as slowly, sending you and your friends an innocent boxy smile. “Guess I’ll be seeing you lot around! Please enjoy the cruise. And remember, if there’s anything you need, feel free to approach me anytime.”

Walking away to attend to his captain-y duties, the three other girls gather around the moment he’s out of sight. “What. Was. That.” Catherine questions, punctuating each word with numerous blinks.

“I’ve already sent a prayer to Anubis to take care of our dear ______’s departed soul,” chimes Mandy, waving a hand in front of you in the hopes of taking you out of your shock.

“Whoosh! There goes _______’s undies!” Frankie adds as she throws her head back in laughter. Your cousin tsks at them to get them to stop teasing you, but with the smirk she’s sporting on her face, you’re certain she’s going to bring this up sooner or later.

With a deep sigh, you hang your head low. This was going to be a long vacation.

Right after Taehyung stages the entrance of the century and greets the cruise’s guests, he discreetly makes his way to a less crowded part of the ship and walks briskly along a dimly lit hallway. Pushing forward an inconspicuous panel on the wall leading to a secret passage, Taehyung silently makes his way done to the lower level of the ship.

The stateroom is almost pitch black as he enters; Taehyung feels his way through the room, solely relying on muscle memory to head to the bedroom. When he turns on the light to check on his great-grandfather, the old man squints, croaking out Taehyung’s name. Rushing to the elder’s side, the dutiful great-grandson pours water on the glass by the bedside table.

Taehyung perches himself on the edge of the bed, taking his great-grandfather’s frail hands in his own. “Dracula – is he on board?” the old man rasps, voice almost whispery. “No,” the younger man shakes his head in denial, “but his daughter is.”

The former winces a little when he tries to shift in his bed, “Even better. Tear him apart by slowly taking his loved ones away from him one by one. Let him feel the pain we had to go through.”

The blonde-haired captain sighs when his great-grandfather coughs again, wheezing as he does. “Promise me you’ll avenge our family, Taehyung. I’m not sure if I’m going to make it any longer, but if I won’t…” he coughs, the strain on his voice evident. “Grandpa, it’s okay, it’s going to be okay.” The old man waves his hand, dismissing Taehyung, “Promise me…for your mother, for your father, and the rest of our family. You and I are the only ones left, my dearest great-grandson. We have no one else to rely on but each other.” The old man’s hand clasp weakly against Taehyung’s.

He tucks his great-grandfather in his bed, and waits patiently for the old man to fall asleep before leaving the room.

You and the girls roam around the deck for a little longer, before deciding to call it a night and head to your rooms. It’s quite the walk all the way there, but as you get farther from the hustle and bustle of the crowd and onto a more secluded part of the vessel, not to mention the rooms are getting father apart from each other, you suppose Cat had picked the best suites available on the cruise. Typical.

Not putting much thought into it with exhaustion taking over your body, you tiredly take a half body bath and head to bed.

Rising a few hours later, you plan on checking out your cousin’s accommodation choices. Just as man-fish had mentioned the night before, there was in fact an invitation placed on top of your bedside table, the gold linings too attractive to miss out on. How could you have possibly missed it though, is all up to your fatigue last night, far too tired to even scan the room.

Heading to the kitchen first to make yourself a cup of coffee, you’re greeted by the beautiful glow of the sunrise as you exit your bedroom. You’re momentarily stunned by the beauty of it, as it was your first after a long time to see the sun, or at least a quarter of it. Contrary to popular belief, sunlight doesn’t incinerate vampires, nor does it make you vanish into thin air. In fact, the closest stories had gotten to your biological truths was that sunlight made you weaker – sort of, because the only explanation for it was that you get really bad sunburn under its rays. But that’s nothing a small bottle of Witch Republic’s Suncream Lotion SPF 5000 can’t fix.

Equipped with a 60-inch smart television mounted on a wall, an equally large painting was hung across the room, serving itself as the background for the sitting area.

The fittings are generously provided for, if the room truly claims it to be a suite for couples: a settee is placed in front of the television for viewing purposes, and another is placed vertically across for lounging and enjoying the view of the balcony.

The balcony – was magnificent in all senses of the word. From a picture on the tiny ‘Legacy’ booklet you grabbed from the table, there really wasn’t much to a panoramic view of the sea but as you pass through the wide windows, the beautiful orange glow from the dawn adds a lovely burst of color in the predominantly monochrome furnishings of the room.

You inhale deeply, breathing in the fresh sea air. You spend a few more moments there, leaning over the balcony until Frankie ruins your moment from a couple of meters away, calling you loud enough for the rest of the ship and the Atlantic Ocean to hear. She drawls your name out, screaming her excitement over your rooms. “I haven’t slept like this since I got my arm re-stitched!” You laugh at her before waving and returning to the sitting room.

A part of you was taking mental notes – possible additions and improvements to your hotel, yet the other half of you wants to allow yourself to enjoy small pleasures like these. Maybe Cat was right all along, that you needed a break from running the hotel and truly relax for a while. With the size of this suite though, you can’t help but wonder if Cat got you all the couple suites solely for your enjoyment or hers.

You decide to take your mug of coffee with you to the balcony and breathe more of the satisfying sea air until the sun rises in its entirety and you retreat back to your room, wanting to sleep in the warm duvet of your bed once more. Maybe this vacation won’t be that bad after all.

Shopping with Catherine was never an easy task. If you could say so yourself, shopping with your cousin was a whole workout on its own.

It’s been three hours since she’s dragged you, Mandy, and Frankie out of your rooms and offered you a shopping spree and free lunch. Who was one to deny such graces? Even when all three of you knew you all would end up following your cousin wherever she went until you’d all complain about how she has to take too long when she always ends up buying everything she sees anyways.

As you stare at your seated self by the full-length mirror, you start to have second thoughts about discontinuing that beginner’s program subscription in yoga before you let Catherine drag you out of the comfort of your room. Sighing in defeat, Frankie turns to you with a similar expression on her face.

Starving, the three of you leave Cat momentarily to look for something to eat, and at the sight of a frozen yogurt stall across the hallway from where you’re seated by the Chanel windows, you and the rest of the girls immediately saunter towards the quaint stall.

While you wait for the girl to finish up your orders, your eyes are busy wandering all over the place in an attempt to count how many shops and boutiques they managed to allocate inside the cruise ship. Guess your hotelier side is already one with your true self.

As you watch a loud group of male monsters exit the arcade nearby, you catch sight of someone awfully familiar: the last face you’d want to see when you’re stuck inside a cruise ship for a few weeks.

Your eyes follow the group, wanting to make sure your eyes are not playing tricks on you. Like a hawk, you watch the group closely – one man in particular, yet he won't seem to look in your direction. You wanted to forget all about it and pretend you didn’t see anything, but you figure this is going to cause you a number of sleepless nights if you don’t. Quickly, you resort to a plan that will have to cost you more energy than just observing, but you were determined to make sure that it was really him.

Focusing your vision on a nearby potted plant, you make the clay vessel move an inch as you try to catch his attention. The first try doesn’t work and neither does the second. Hell bent on your resolution, the third time works the charm (obviously with a more significant amount of distance the plant has moved).

Your suspicions are confirmed – it’s truly him.

Just like that, all sorts of emotions course through you and you feel the corners of your eyes starting to well with tears. He laughs at something one of his companions say, and you feel your heart clench as you look at the same smile you fell for years ago.

It’s takes you a while before you process somebody has been calling you name several times, then you see Mandy waving her hand in front of you. “You okay there? What happened?”

Etching an ingenuine smile on your face, you turn to face her as she hands you the dessert, “Nothing…just thought I saw someone familiar…”

“Mhmm,” Frankie hums, scooping a large portion of yogurt into her mouth, “as long as it’s not you-know-who, then it’s irrelevant,”

“Actually, I think it is him.”

Frankie chokes on the sliced strawberry topping she just ate. “What?!” Mandy places a hand on your shoulder, an apologetic look on her face. “Don’t tell me that fucker is also here?!” Shushing her quickly, you reach out to her to tug at her arm to keep her quiet.

“What fucker are you talking about?” Catherine questions, approaching the three of you with two extra paper bags in her hand. Frankie keeps her mouth shut, thankfully while Mandy comes in to the rescue. “Frankie was just talking about how fucking tasty this froyo is. In fact, I think so too – would you like to try some?” The girl offers her cup, eventually feeding Cat with a spoonful of fruity toppings.

The subject is quickly diverted and as your cousin rummages through her bag to look for the cruise’s official pamphlet, both Frankie and Mandy give you a knowing look.

“Lunch anyone?” You propose to the other three, already wishing you’d soon be forgetting about even seeing your ex-fiancée earlier.

You’d gotten back to your room around half past five, nearly collapsing to the floor after hours and hours of shopping with your cousin. The girls had agreed to use your room to prepare for the party later (one discussion you don’t remember agreeing to) and had gone around the sitting area, placing their bags done and going through their purchases.

You, on the other hand, had gone straight to the kitchen to look for something to drink. Besides, you just know they’re going to ask for something too later on, so you just grab a few bottles of water for the girls. As you rested against the cool fridge while opening a bottle of your own, you spot a punnet of strawberries sitting on top of a counter.

“Did any one of you bring strawberries here before we left?”

When they chorused their replies of denial, you check the strawberries warily, lifting them off the marble top. You hear something slide down when you open the container. A card came in with the strawberries.

Returning to the living room with strawberries in one hand and the card in the other, Frankie stands from the settee and snatches the card away from you. She waves the small piece of paper in the air, claiming it was a love letter. “Dear _______, I really think you’ve got a wonderful smile, but it’d be better if it was the only thing you’ll be wearing tonight!” she says, pretending to read the note.

“What?! You’ve already made a move without telling us about it? Lemme see!” Mandy exclaims, running after your stitched friend.

“Oh!” Frankie says, pointing to the sky, “Looks like we might be expecting a few inches tonight, hmm?” she adds, snickering as she pokes the inside of her cheek with her tongue repeatedly, and rather inappropriately.

“Y’all disgusting really. ‘M going to shower.”

“Make sure you don’t have too much fun with the showerhead!”

“Fuck you Mandy!”

“I would if you were my type!”

Catherine waits until she hears the water running before turning to her two friends left at the sitting area. “I’m worried.”

“About?”

“My cousin.” The eldest of the girls says, tapping her nails against the couch – a nervous habit. Frankie sets the card back down and nests herself on the carpet just across Cat. “What is there to worry about?”

“This thing between my cousin and the captain?” Carding her fingers through her hair, she closes her eyes before continuing, “Does the fact that he’s human not bother you…at all?”

“The dude’s harmless! And he better think it through when he tries to do something – he’s literally in a ship full of monsters. Do something dumb, he can get his head bitten off in no less than two seconds.”

Catherine is not convinced.

“Plus, I’m sure it’s just a one-time fling – surely, ______’s smart enough to know that. I just firmly believe that one must get laid regularly because penetrative sex is medicinal. And who knows? There might be cobwebs down there already!” Frankie adds.

Cat flings a brochure at Frankie before scrolling through her phone’s gallery then stopping at a portrait of you and her. “I’m just concerned about _____’s wellbeing. This is the most time we’ve spent together for the past two years, and I’m not even sure if she’s fully recovered from what she’d been through with you-know-who.”

“Even worse, what if she falls for the dude? Or she zinged? Or they both zinged?!”

“Hey, hey…” Mandy scoots over to Cat’s side and wraps an arm across her shoulder, “you’re overthinking now babe, and! This is your bachelorette party, stop worrying about stuff. _____ is a strong, independent woman. If she can handle the best hotel in monster history, then handling a man will be too easy.”

“Come out already!” Mandy whines impatiently from outside, knocking impatiently on your bathroom door. You smooth a few creases on your dress before you open the door to reveal your outfit. Shock was a heavy understatement. Cat’s usually beautiful features twist into one of distaste, Mandy pretends to gag at the sight, and Frankie avoids your gaze as she purses her lips.

You can’t help the nervous laugh that escapes your throat when they look at you up then down, scrutinizing your fashion choices.

“What. The hell. Is that?!”

“Why are you too covered up?”

Their hostilities continue as you give them a twirl, genuinely confused with their reactions when there’s absolutely nothing wrong with choosing a long-sleeved rayon blouse with ruffles in the front and a green pleated skirt.

“You didn’t tell me you’re meant to apply for the queen’s secretary?” Frankie questions, rummaging through your luggage.

“You mean Queen Elizabeth I?” Mandy adds, snickering along with the rest of the girls.

“Hey! G4 says she was pretty! And educated for her time too!” you cry in protest.

“Same with you darling. But it’s a party we’re attending and not a royal appointment, so will you do me a favor and wear this instead?”

Your mouth falls agape in shock.

“What?! This dress is… is barely covering anything!” You look closely at the satin blood-red piece of clothing as Catherine hands it to you. Needless to say, just looking at it was a cultural reset.

“Glad to know you’re unaware of that point.” Mandy butts in, “you’ll be happy to know that this dress will get you a man in no time either way.”

“Either way?” Frankie questions before leaving your room to looks for heels to go with your dress.

“Yeap,” the mummy replies, touching up her make-up, “Either you get a man who will cover you up or you’ll find one who will gladly take it off for you later tonight

Catherine coughs, “The captain,” winking at you while she pushes you towards the bathroom, “Chop chop now dear! We still have a party to attend to tonight!”

The party is already in full swing by the time the four of you arrive. The crisp, chilly air hits your face as you get to the main deck, and as you wrap your arms around yourself, you know you're already regretting having worn Catherine’s dress. Arms bare, half of your back out in the open, and a thigh-high slit? Really? A towel could’ve afforded you more modesty than this dress.

Mandy immediately heads to bar, leaving you all to ‘pick your poison for tonight’. Pursing your lips at your mummified friend, you trail after your cousin as she looks for a table to settle yourselves in. You scan the crowd, watching the other monsters move to beat of the music, and also, just in case someone you don’t want to see decides to show up again out of nowhere.

Mandy finds you shortly afterwards with a waiter trailing behind her, carrying a tray of ambiguous looking chalices. Oh boy.

This night was headed straight to hell.

Nearly an hour later, you practically waddle back to your table, breathless and throat parched as the desert. Catherine clings onto you like her Hermes Himalaya Birkin, just as exhausted as you were. Why do you always seem to forget that Mandy dragging your asses to the dance floor has never been the smartest choice?

The moment you get back to your table, you reach for the bronze goblet and down the rest of your drink. The distinctive burn has you keening, tightening your fingers around its stem. Beside you, Catherine coughs after she takes a sip of hers – “What the fuck is in this drink?? Methane?!”

“Throat…on fire…I feel like a fucking dragon,” you attest, voice raspy.

“That, my dear girlfriends, has been mixed by yours truly,” Mandy announces with a proud smile on her face. “I call it the Devil’s Piss.”

You shake your head at her, rubbing at your temples. Starting to feel the sweat break at your hairline, you want nothing more than to return to your suite and sleep the night away. Closing your eyes, you draw a calm scene inside your head: watching the sun set by your balcony as you sip on your hot chocolate –

Your dreams of orange skies and the soft breeze are cut short when you feel a tap on your shoulder. “Countess, the captain requests your presence on the bridge.” Your eyes follow the direction of where he was pointing and see a pair of eyes staring back at you.

Perhaps sleep could stay second on your list tonight.

Cat wiggles her eyebrows suggestively as you bow your head in embarrassment, your cheeks flushing when the rest of the girls whistle and howl as the man-fish stoically escorts you to the bridge. Once you arrive at the top of the stairs, the man adjusts your grip on his elbow as he gently takes your hand and stretches it forward for you to continue on by yourself. “The captain will be waiting inside, Countess” He bows curtly, and your left on your own to walk towards the bridge.

“Countess.” There’s the low timbre of his voice again, sending shivers down your spine effortlessly as you close the door behind you. He doesn’t speak after that, just taking in what you’re wearing tonight, subconsciously biting on his bottom lip as he takes in the outfit your friends have chosen for you.

Every step you take is wobbly, like your legs have turned into goo. The chilly breeze up here is likewise not helping your skin already prickled with goosebumps.

“_______,” Taehyung grabs your hand and gently places a kiss on the back of your palm. Another strike of electricity shoots up your spine at the small gesture. Goodness, what the hell was going on with you?

“Y-you don’t have to do this e-every time we meet.” Inwardly cringing at your shaky voice, you look away and exhale deeply in an attempt to calm your nerves.

It doesn’t help.

Especially not when the captain is less than an arm-length away, and being able to see him this close is doing dangerous things to you. “This is the first time I’ve been on a ship’s bridge,” you comment lamely, keeping the conversation on a sane note. The thirsty ass hoe inside you doesn’t seem to approve of the idea though, unfortunately.

“Really now? How is your first time on the bridge then?”

“It’s…different.”

“Different? How so?”

“Different from trying to run a hotel I guess, which was all I was doing for the past few years…It’s an unlikely comparison, I know, but being here…it’s like you get to oversee everything from the bridge, which I never get when I’m back home, like…you know you’re in control?” You were merely blabbering at this point, but then again, your brain loses control of your bodily functions when you're in close proximity with this man.

“You like being in control then?”

The tiny creaking sound coming from the floor tells you he’s taken a step closer to you, and the warmth coming from him is driving you insane. Damn this bloody dress of Catherine. You’re at a loss for words, neurons short-circuiting at both his question and how it’s equally chilly and hot at the same time in this small space.

It’s too much for you to handle, too much that you can't seem to find the appropriate words to voice out a reply, instead, you just turn around to face him. A gasp escapes your lips when you accidentally bump into his chest when you do so.

“Oh! Crap! I-I’m sorry…” You apologize meekly, fiddling with your hands and refusing to meet his eyes at all costs. The captain places your chin between his fingers and lifts your face for him to look at. He doesn’t say a word either, instead, just leans down and captures your lips in a feverish kiss.

Surprised – was an understatement. You hadn’t really expected him to call you over to the bridge and the next thing you knew he’s already kissing you. He immediately pulls away when you don’t reciprocate, apologizing profusely and mumbling about misplaced affections.

“No!” You exclaim, causing the captain to jump a little. You gather your courage and rub at your temples. “I mean…Captain V, your affections have not been misplaced, it’s just this…monster thing that has me acting like this the whole time, and I really have zero control over it and…”

You don’t get to finish your sentence as you feel his warm, moist lips on yours again. His strawberry-tasting lips glide over yours smoothly that you find yourself leaning towards him as you melt into the kiss. You’re first to pull away this time, breathless. “Forgive me, Countess…I’ve been wanting to do that since I first laid eyes on you on this ship,” he says, cupping your face as he rests his forehead against yours. “So beautiful,” Taehyung whispers against the shell of your ear and trails a finger from your cheek and eventually down to your collarbones as he ogles the cleavage Cat’s dress had generously given you tonight.

“Taehyung.” He places a lingering kiss on your shoulder. “Call me Taehyung, please.” He smooths his hand over your hips, tightening his grip as he pulls you closer and kisses you once more. You feel something hard against your stomach – oh. Your mouth parts when he starts to grind, slowly and devilishly against you and he takes this opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss.

His gaze darkens when he sees the expanse of skin the slit of your dress reveals as you shift your legs, thigh now out in the open. Attaching his lips to yours again, Taehyung distracts you from the way his slender fingers dance their way up dangerously near your core.

Your head bows in embarrassment when you remember Mandy checking if you’d worn the right underwear earlier, ‘If they’re not lace, they have to go.’ So when she busted inside the bathroom as you were changing into Cat’s clothes earlier and saw your favorite cotton panties (with an embroidered flower on the front), she quickly rips the material in distaste, strongly suggesting that commando is the way to go. It won't be long until Taehyung discovers –

“No panties huh?” Taehyung observes, voice low and deep. “Yes,” you reply breathily, closing your eyes as you ignore how you're throbbing all over in such a short period of time. You try to regain your wits back, your first zing too overwhelming that everything seems like a haze.

With a new, albeit questionable, surge of courage, you move your hand to palm him through his pants. When Taehyung bares his neck to you to elicit a groan, your head subconsciously dips towards the spot where you feel his pulse the strongest. In an instant, your primal instincts begin to take over you, baring your fangs and grazing them dangerously against his skin.

Holy fuck.

This man was going to be the cause of your death.

It’s been a while since you’ve been in close proximity with a human, and being this close to the captain has stirred up something inside of you that you never knew still existed.

Back in the days when humans had mingled freely with your kind, witches had placed suppressants in the Tersnoan atmosphere so that a monster’s primal instincts won't ever be able to take over your diplomatic selves.

Now that you were much older with fully developed senses, being this close to a human with no suppressants whatsoever had inevitably awakened your inborn vampiric tendencies.

Needless to say, your generation of vampires had gone ‘vegetarian’ in a sense. Your lifestyle no longer consisted of hunting down people for food, but you opted for a healthier alternative and a more convenient source of food: coconut juice. Besides, human blood never really came in highly recommended by the older generations, claiming it tasted like loneliness and despair.

What they failed to warn you of, however, was how intense the urge was once you were only a hair-breadth away from a human being who is very much alive. The temptation was getting stronger by the second, and the pulse coming from Taehyung’s jugular vein was ringing loudly in your ears.

Both the desires of hunt and lust were slowly taking over you, your judgment, and your irises, and your lips quake ever so gently at the excitement coursing through your veins. As you feel your irises change its color from their natural ones, to purple then to gold afterwards, the surprise in Taehyung’s eyes has gotten prominent, yet, with astounding self-control, he manages to keep the rest of his body calm and collected.

He gulps at the small smirk that plays on your lips, “To answer your question, I like being in control,” you say lowly, grazing the tip of your nail against his jawline, “but only when the need arises so.”

For a moment, you sense his fright with your golden eyes and fangs on display, but you feel it dissipate quickly when you bunch his shirt in your fists and pull him closer to you. Taehyung then takes this as a cue to continue his torment of his featherlight touches, causing you to lean against the wheel as your head falls backward at the sensation.

Brazenly, he hooks a hand under your thigh and wraps your leg around his hip, allowing himself to grind harder against you, the friction of his dress pants against your bare heat sending you to a state of near delirium. The moment is cut short however as you both hear footsteps approaching the bridge. The captain puts your leg down as abruptly as he hooked his arm underneath it earlier.

As you wait for the two man-fish creatures to pass by the wheelhouse, you and the captain keep a modest gap between each other, letting the staff move across the bridge and until they take their positions by the front portion of the deck. Just as if the captain wasn’t groping you merely seconds ago.

The moment they’re out of sight, Taehyung closes the distance between the both of you, resting his weight on you as he presses you further onto the wheel of the ship. Subconsciously, you bite your lip as you feel his boner practically begging for your attention.

His actions are hastier this time around, and quite frankly, you're glad he has managed to equal the same level of urgency you had. You don’t know how long you’ll be able to hold onto your sanity with the heat pooling in the pit of your stomach. Else, you’d be taking the matter in your own hands.

Every contact of Taehyung’s skin with yours has you skin ablaze, and you’re unsure if it’s due to the (partly) shameful fact that you haven’t been this intimate with someone for the past few years that you're this responsive. He’s fondling your breasts with one hand, unabashedly tweaking and playing with your nipples. The other hand is busy squeezing your thighs, fingers dancing lightly across the exposed skin of your leg.

Your breath hitches as he unexpectedly cups your bare mound, digits swiping against your folds. Body quaking at the feeling, your body leans forward, but Taehyung has other plans, tugging you back harshly to his chest. “You think you can stay still for me sweetheart? You wouldn’t want my staff to think we’re christening the bridge, do you?”

Maybe, just maybe, the thought didn’t sound so bad?

“Oh?” Taehyung hisses when he feels your quick intake of breath at the thought. He finds your clit seconds later, rubbing the nub languidly, “you seem to like the idea, hmm?”

“Taehyung, please,” you beseech, leaning towards his touch and grinding your hips against his palm in desperation. You’re uncertain if this was an effect still caused by the zing but at this point, you just wanted a release from his relentless teasing and you’re more than willing to work for it if you have to.

The captain revels in your responsiveness and as a reward, he complies with your request, quickening his pace and toying your clit with more vigor than ever. Your hands, previously just as busy groping Taehyung, now shoots out to grip at the helm, your high approaching rapidly. He inserts a long, dexterous digit to accompany his other hand, helping you reach your climax faster. A second finger has you reeling, gripping the helm even tighter than before, knuckles turning white at the sheer strength. One kiss on your neck is all it takes, orgasming so hard that Taehyung has to hold you still lest you lose your balance.

You're still panting a minute later, having turned around and resting your hands on Taehyung’s chest for support. You both stay like that for a moment in each other’s arms, until you’re brought back to reality by the captain’s boner brushing against your tummy. “Can I?” you ask as you look up to him, thumbing the waistband of his dress pants.

“_______, darling, as much as I’d want to you right here, there’s too many of my staff roaming around the bridge for the night. And if these creatures walking about isn’t bothersome enough, it’s the fact that fish don’t blink either…so there’s that…” Taehyung states before placing a kiss on your shoulder. “If you desire so, I’d gladly continue this in my room…” the captain offers, looking at you expectantly as another pair of the fish men round the deck.

“I think we should go with that.”

He nods briefly, placing a wet kiss on your temple before taking your hand in his. Giddy as a teenager at the sight of her crush, you let him lead the way to his stateroom, unable to hide the shy smile on your lips. Once he leaves the wheelhouse to one of his first mates for the night, he squeezes your hand and continues on, palm contrastingly warm against yours as you walk to his room together.

“Did you enjoy the strawberries I had sent you earlier this evening?”

“Definitely. They’re one of the sweetest bunches I’ve tried in my life! Thanks for them by the way.”

“You did? They’re handpicked from our very own greenhouse on the ship!” Taehyung looks back at you with the brightest smile, eyes crinkling with the purest delight. Your heart crumples at the sight. How could the zing have possibly chosen this man for you – or worse, how are you supposed to deal with this type of duality?

One moment he’s brazenly fingering you inside the wheelhouse with blinkless staff roaming about and the next he’s talking about growing strawberries and how farming has been therapeutic for him. How is one man so devilish and wholesome at the same time?

Just like that, conversation flowed natural between the two of you: the similarities of having to run a hotel (as well as a heated debate on whether or not a hotel on land or on water is easier to manage), hobbies you enjoy on a spiritual level, and a few bits and pieces of him as Kim Taehyung and not the captain of The Legacy.

You’d just learned he doesn’t drink coffee, nor does he drink alcohol; he plays the saxophone and claims he’s pretty learned with the instrument; and that he loves taking photographs. In addition, he’d also told you about how he was born and raised in Korea hence the faint accent, but he’d grown up moving from place to place with his great-grandfather due to their family business, and that’s how their voyages helped him practice his English and even pick up a few foreign languages.

Your getting-to-know each other session is brought to a pause when the blonde-haired captain stops in front of a door in a dimly lit corridor. Quietly, he fishes for something inside his pockets, takes out his keycard and taps it against the door lock. Taking a peek from outside, you wait for him as he turns the lights on before following him inside.

Mouth agape as you enter, your eyes wander around his stateroom, marveling at the sheer grandeur of the captain’s living space. Just when you thought Catherine had given you and your friends the luxury of staying in a suite large enough to house a family of five, the captain’s stateroom on the other hand could easily pass for at least ten people.

Taehyung’s suite exactly looks like it came from a magazine spread, akin to a million-dollar apartment…at a high-rise residential tower…located in the middle of the busiest city in the world.

The captain lets you roam around his stateroom, a small smile playing on his lips as you gape over every detail in the room. It was modern interior design taking to a whole new level.

Monochromatic in a way, yet for some reason, he had it strategically designed to make it look more dynamic, alive somehow. You were no expert in the field of interior design, but with your modest experience in running a hotel (from choosing what type of cotton will be best for the beddings to organizing parties with more than a hundred participants), you could easily tell every nook and cranny of this room was heavily planned out.

Pointing at the stairs, you wordlessly ask for his permission if you could go up and check out the upper level. Taehyung doesn’t follow right after, momentarily heading to his kitchen. Significantly smaller than the lower floor, the second level houses his bedroom, with a heap of curtains serving as a divider and cover from those staying below.

His bedroom speaks more of him than any other part of the stateroom. Just as he mentioned earlier, there’s an open saxophone case on one corner, next to another black violin case. You also take notice of the makeshift tie hanger he’d made using the coat stand.

What truly catches your eyes though, is the array of photographs hung on the walls. It’s a mosaic of some sort, with photos spread from a corner then occupying half of the adjacent walls. Some are framed, some are printed on canvas, and a number are on photo paper and pasted on the beige wall. They’re caught on film, you reckon, with the distinct grainy resolution common amongst the photos.

Swiping your finger against the wooden frames of the pictures he’d hung, you study each photo thoroughly, trying to figure out the story behind each picture. There’s three more situated on his bedside table, Picking up the one with Taehyung smiling widely beside a boat’s mast.

“Ah, my first sail,” Taehyung says, taking a step near you. The tiny hairs on your nape stand at the feeling of his warm breath against your skin. All of a sudden, you realize he’s standing too close – too close for you to remain sane.

You keep the framed photo in your hands, yet your thoughts have ultimately flown far away from whatever story was behind the picture; like how you hear his heart beat a little faster.

“Enough about me, countess,” the captain whispers as he places a hand over yours and guides yours back down to the bedside table. For a second there, you’d forgotten

For a second there, you’d almost forgotten he literally had the same fingers inside you just a few moments ago and that you’re now reminded of the main and sole purpose why you’re here in his bedroom.

“What about you?” Taehyung sets the strawberries down next to the photograph, then tucks a few strands of stray hair behind your ear. Each teasing touch is driving you closer to madness, like every move of his is calculated as if he knows he has this effect on you.

Lamely, you echo his words, “What about me?”

“Do you still want to look at more of my photographs or shall we continue what we started earlier?” It’s so awfully quiet inside the room that you basically hear yourself gulp at his proposal.

Weren’t your bodily reactions enough to serve as an answer?

You wanted to act less naïve (and appear a whole less desperate) that you’d imagined giving him a proper answer in your head, but here you were, stiff as a gargoyle statue, cowering beneath the warmth radiating off Taehyung.

Thoughts too haywire, you're unable to rack your brain for an appropriate reply, so you return the question to him: one with a double purpose – for him to ponder on and for you to recollect yourself. “What do you want?” Slowly, you turn to face him, bracing yourself for the hormonal uproar you are to experience.

The captain pouts cutely while in thought before darting his tongue out to lick at his lips. Taehyung gently brushes your hair over your shoulder, fingers subsequently tracing the outline of your collarbone. “I want,” he starts off, toying with the strap of your dress and wrapping it around his finger, “to take this off.”

Letting him slide the straps off your shoulders, you inhale deeply, anticipation doubling by the second. With your shoulders tense, the straps fall only until your elbows. Taehyung notices your hesitation and tenderly takes your chin between his thumb and his forefinger, tilting your head up so he could face you properly.

“Hey, we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

Feeling sorry for him having to deal with your worries, you cup his beautiful face in your hands, “I want to. I really do – it’s just…it’s been a while.”

You're grateful when he leans toward your touch, sending a soft smile your way. “Of course, darling, we’ll take it slow.” Relaxing your shoulders, the thin straps of your dress fall down the length of your arm with the rest of the fabric following shortly after.

Core throbbing immensely with want, you take initiative this time, claiming his mouth with a newfound sense of courage and urgency. Your knees threaten to give in when he matches the intensity of your kiss. With haste, you thumb at the zipper of his pants, causing him to trip on his own feet and fall forward.

The blonde-haired man brings you down to bed with him, stretching his arm out just in time to break his fall, making sure he’s not resting too much of his weight on you. “What happened to taking it slow?”

Taehyung is just as breathless when he helps you with your predicament with his pants. “Fuck it, there’s plenty of time for that later but I need you,” you pant, unable and unwilling to keep your hands to yourself – brushing against his clothed erection, sliding them against his defined chest, wrapping your hands by his neck to pull him closer to you…

“I need you now, inside me, please Tae…”

He withdraws from your body and kneels by the edge of the bed. Legs already shamefully spread and ready, Taehyung rummages through the drawers of his bedside table, looking for something. At the mention of condoms under his breath, you wave at him, trying to catch his attention.

He turns to you, eyebrows raised. “No need. Human sperm can’t get us pregnant anyways. Are you clean?”

“Got checked three weeks ago, that good with you?”

You nod your head, beckoning him over. Taehyung wastes no time, taking his boxers off to free his dick from the confines of his underwear. He crawls over to you and places a kiss on each of your thighs before taking his cock and sliding it against your wet folds.

He uses yours and his essences as lubricant, jerking himself off first before pushing the red tip of his shaft slowly. In consideration of your own pleasure, he doesn’t rush his entrance, just pushing slowly then drawing it back to prep you properly.

Taehyung continues with that, until your hand shoots out to grab him by his wrist, giving him a tug to let him know you’re ready. Silently, he nods, this time pushing his cock inside until he’s fully seated inside your warm walls. “So t-tight.” Taehyung shivers when you experimentally clench around him.

“Babe,” the captain breathes out while heat rises to your face at the term of endearment. “Please don’t do that again, fuck, I might just cum early if… if…” Taehyung falls silent again, groaning as you clench one more time, “you're just one naughty girl aren’t you?”

When you shrug your shoulders in reply, it’s like something inside Taehyung snaps because he gives you a playful smirk before thrusting harshly. You mewl at the feeling, fingers tugging at his hair in encouragement.

“Y-you're so big,” you cry out as he ruts his hips, the tip of his cock deliciously brushing against your sweet spot with every thrust. “Fuck,” Taehyung hisses, continuing the fluid motion of his hips, “your pussy was made just to take me then.”

He goes almost animalistic, thrusting even deeper, stronger as he chases his high. “Think you can cum with me sweetheart?” Taehyung queries, pushing his hair back when he feels the edges of his fringe tickle your cheeks.

Taehyung deftly finds your clit while he’d continued his torment with his hips, a single moan coming from your mouth is all he needs before proceeding with abusing your nether nub. It doesn’t take you both much after that, both your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave, one after the other.

A few more hours into the evening and you find yourselves still tangled in each other’s bodies, worshipping each and every inch of skin as you get overcome by lust over and over again.

Taehyung collapses to your side after what seems like… in fact, you’ve actually lost count of how many times you’ve climaxed. Panting, he looks at you with a smile reaching his eyes, “That was…” He’s at a loss for words but when he hears laughter bubble out of you at his cuteness, he joins in.

The laughter dies down, yet you’re still staring at each other – no words needed to explain what had just transpired between the both of you tonight. You stay still and contented, basking in the euphoric bliss. He says he can't stay awake any longer, bidding you a good night’s sleep and sweet dreams.

You manage to stay awake though, on the contrary, swearing to yourself you’d just seen his eyes flash lavender before falling into a deep slumber.

Send me your thoughts? x

#bts smut #ficswithluv #bangtanhq #btsguild #btswritingcafe #ksmutclub #btsghostie #houseofddaeng #taehyung smut #taehyung x reader #kim taehyung #kim taehyung scenarios #bts x reader #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts au fanfic #bts fluff

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existtolaugh · 3 years

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Had a prompt idea and managed to find an hour or two between breaks at work and my commute to write a short little story. It is not proofread or as long as most of my other works, but I was inspired and wanted to write this after seeing the movie. This does contain some spoilers from Black Widow.

Giggles 04 - Natasha and Yelena

"I - No, Yelena, you're doing it wrong. Here, use your other arm - No, your OTHER other arm..! I.."

"I think it looks better than yours, if I'm being honest."

It was a busy few days for the Black Widows, but after all the fighting and running that they have had to endure, they forgot that it was possible to have fun every now and again. Sure, maybe they should be planning how to break Alexei out of prison, but one thing lead to another and Yelena insisted she could perform a better three point pose than Natasha herself.

"No, it doesn't. If you push up with that arm, you aren't going to have enough balance. It isn't about looking good when you land, it's about getting back up." Natasha tried to explain to the younger Widow.

"So you're telling me that you Avengers aren't constantly thinking about how you are going to look on the covers of magazines and television? Natasha, you can't fool me." Yelena retorted as she tried to keep optimal balance in her three-point pose just to defy her sister's advice and prove her wrong.

"Well, when you save the world multiple times, you don't have the energy to think about fashion all that much." Natasha tried to explain to her wobbling sister. "I can tell." Yelena spoke. "After all, I'm the one with the stylish AND practical vest." She smiled.

"It's tacky."

"Got more pockets that you." She shrugged, almost completely falling over and losing her balance at the notion. Luckily, Natasha was there to catch her sister, hands pressed against her sides to ensure she wouldn't fall on her face.

..Which caused the younger of the two to shoot up with a soft gasp.

Natasha blinked, thinking at first she just startled her sister. But no, that wasn't it.. All of a sudden, some memories began to wake up in her mind that she had forgotten about after all these years..

Memories of play fighting with Yelena in their childhood home of Ohio. While Natasha would usually win, having already been trained as a Black Widow, she would occasionally let Yelena win just to make her feel good.

But she would never, ever let Yelena win when it came to their favorite sport, which was tickle fighting..

"Yelena..?" Natasha asked, her sister turning around to face her, doing her best to keep her composure and play it cool after her reaction. "I.. Yeah? What is it?"

"Do you remember, when we were kids.. We would play a game.." Natasha smiled a little bit, Yelena's cheeks darkening and trying to avoid the topic which she knew her sister was trying to get at. "I was very young. I do not remember such.. Such trivial details!" She said, which caused Natasha to smile a little wider. "Are you sure? Because I remember your favorite game.." She took a step towards her sister..

But Yelena would not be caught off guard so easily..

Already reaching for Natasha's arm, Yelena tried to pull her sister in and drag her to the ground. Both Widows since arriving at their safe house had stripped of their jumpsuits, and were in more casual attire. Both in tank tops, socks and pajama bottoms, which had swayed in the air as Yelena tried to flip her sister onto her back, though Natasha would not be taken down so quickly and easily..

Wrapping her legs around Yelena's arm, she pulled her down with her and pinned that arm with her legs, leaving her sister with only one arm to defend herself with, though Natasha was swift and managed to pin the flailing arm above Yelena's head.. In their tussle, it caused Yelena's top to rise and expose her stomach.. And left Natasha with one free hand, wiggling her red nails above the belly of her younger sister..

"I..! You release me this instant..! I'll.. I'm not even ticklish anymore..! Those childish games don't matter..!" Yelena said, her belly sinking in as much as possible as if to defend itself from the ever approaching claw of doom.. "Uh-huh. Theeeeen this won't bother you?" Natasha smiled before her nails struck their target, the right side of Yelena's exposed tummy, causing a squeak to slip through her lips, trying to roll onto her side and keep composure before cracking..

But Natasha's hands were more dedicated than Yelena's lips.. Which began to slip into a wider and wider smile, before the unthinkable happened..

..She began to giggle..

"Cuhut.. Ihit ohohohout..!~" Yelena snorted, Natasha's nails skittering closer to the middle of her sister's belly in retaliation to her sign of resistance. "Say I win." Natasha said, wanting to retain her undefeated streak of tickle fights with her sister. "NOHO! I wihill ehEHENDUHUHURE FAHAHAR WOHohorse tohohorture behefore ahahadmiHIHITTING SUHUCH LIHIhihies!"

"That never stopped me before." Natasha teased, deciding how is the perfect opportunity to use one of her secret weapons. Leaning down, she puckered her lips and blew a massive raspberry right on Yelena's helpless belly button, and her expression said it all. Eyes closed in a howl of silent laughter, the wheezing Widow arched her back and kicked her legs before losing herself in a fit of fulfilling and adorable laughter. "NOHOHO! N-Nahahatahasha wahahAHAHAI -"

She was cut off by yet another raspberry, her lungs unable to make a sound to properly exemplify how the ticklish girl felt, but the way her stomach quivered, the way she shivered, the shaking of her legs, it told a story of a girl who has not been tickled in over twenty years and forgot how ticklish, yet in love with the sensation, she was.

For a moment she felt like a little girl back in Ohio. For a moment she looked up at her blue-haired older sister. For a moment she heard Don McLean on the radio. For a moment she even saw their mother, or as she was known to the girls as the mighty tickle momster, sneaking in to join in the pile of ticklish fun the girls were having, only to exhaust themselves and fall asleep in a cuddle puddle on the floor.

She had forgotten those wonderful memories, and it took Natasha to remind her of these things.

But she was an adult now.

And she could fight back.

Natasha had let her guard down just long enough for Yelena to shoot her legs up and wrap them around her sister's body and arms, rolling her onto her back and pinning her down. Natasha was so distracted with tickling the younger woman, she had forgotten how formidable of a fighter she had grown up to be.. "I.. Wait, Yelena..! Okay maybe we've horsed around enough..! We should get back to work an - "

"Nyet." Was all Yelena said, smiling and digging into her sister's hips, causing her to instantly enter a fit of squealing and wiggling, tugging at her arms trapped between her sister's legs, if not to fight back AT LEAST cover her face to hide her burning cheeks from the teasing smile that was looking right at her. "Come on. Fight back. The big bad Avenger can't handle a little tickling? You have beaten gods, robot armies, S.H.I.E.L.D., even. Why can't you take your younger sister tickling you?"

Yelena was loving this, and Natasha could tell, even as she struggled wildly to rescue her hips from the dreaded assault they had no option but to endure." YOHOU.. AHAH WEHEHE NEHEED TOHO FOHOCUS!" She tried to explain through her laughter, hands flapping to try and reach Yelena's hips. "We didn't need to focus when you were tickling me. Maybe you should learn to focus. What's our next move, huh?"

Natasha couldn't believe she was stuck in this situation. She couldn't believe it even more when Yelena began to squeeze right into her thighs. "AAGGHH! STAHAHAP! WAHAIT I..!" "You what? Give up?"

Natasha was willing to do a lot to get Yelena to stop, but under NO circumstances would she give up. Not to Yelena. Not to somebody she has never, ever lost a tickle fight to. Managing to barely squeeze a hand free, she went for the one spot she knew she could win..

Yelena was too distracted to notice at first, but when she felt Natasha wrap an arm around her ankles she almost panicked. Toes curled in their socks, Yelena had to act fast.. And dove for Natasha's ankles.. Both girls managing to lock each other's feet in headlocks, once more finding themselves on equal footing - no pun intended.

Natasha peeled off the socks before her, trying to act quickly, knowing that she had to get Yelena to surrender first before her own soles were attacked. Feeling the cool breeze brush against her toes was warning enough that Yelena had ripped those socks off and it was all or nothing now..

Natasha went right for the arches, scratching her nails in which elicited a shriek from Yelena's lips, which was almost as loud as the squeal that crawled out of Natasha's throat when Yelena skittered her nails into that bare heel, both girls rolling around on the ground, refusing to release each other, both girls wanting nothing more than to prove the superior fighter in the art of tickling. Both were so equally matched, but both had their own unique ways to fight back..

Natasha was so skilled, her nails sharper and more precise, as if every wrinkle was forced to be stimulated in the most ticklish ways possible. Yelena, however, was more frantic. Unpredictable. Darting back and forth between different spots on Natasha's feet, the older Widow unable to keep up with the frantic nature that she had to endure, even moreso when Yelena tried to press her own feet into Natasha's face to both hide her soles and to annoy the Avenger into surrender more quickly..

"YOHOU.. LEHET GOHOHO!"

"YOHOHOU FIHIRST! AAGGHH STAHAP!"

"YOHOU FIHIRST!"

"NOHO YOHOU FIHIRST!!"

One had to give, but neither one was willing to lose. Yelena couldn't lose, she had to prove herself to her sister. Natasha had to defend her streak. But only one was willing to go the extra mile to drive her sister crazy.

"N-NOHOHO! AAHHAHAH ST-STAHAP THAHAT! W-WAHAHAIT!!"

Once Yelena began to nibble into Natasha's toes, she had no idea how to react to this situation. She had been tortured, broken, and endured horrors beyond what she was capable of knowing how to cope with, yet still walked forward and tried to be the best person she could be.

But what she learned on this night was toe nibbling was something she had no idea how to handle.

"AAGGHHAHAHAH I GIHIVE I GIHIHIVE!! YOHOHOU WIHIHIN!~"

Yelena stopped, Natasha tapping out on the floor as the younger sister pulled her feet free.. Finally.. She had won.. Catching her breath and laying across the calves of her fallen foe.. Smiling and turning her head to look at her..

Both girls were tired, their hair stuck to their face.. But they smiled at each other.. "Who's.. Ahah.. Who's the winner now..?~" Yelena asked, panting as Natasha chuckled.. "Fine.. Yohou are the behetter tickle master.. I hehereby grant you the rank of Master Tickler.." Natasha said with a smile, for the first time in a while just feeling happy to be with somebody who she could consider family..

"Good.. Now say my vest is cool.." Yelena added, Natasha shaking her head before laying it back down on the floor.. "Yeah, no.." She said..

She was then laughing her head off when Yelena went back to nibbling and scratching those sensitive soles of the Avenger.. "OKAHAY OKAHAHAY IHIT'S COHOOL!!~"

It wouldn't be too long after this that they would fall asleep in each other's arms on the floor, very much like they did when they were little girls..

Little did the Widows know, they would once again enter combat with the mighty Tickle Momster in the not too distant future..

#tickle #tickling #Black Widow #Natasha Romanoff #Yelena Belova

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sirikenobi12 · 4 years

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Dear Mr. Filoni: About Qui-Gon Jinn

Mr. Filoni, I know you are pretty much the undisputed Padawan of George Lucas, but like many students they can sometimes misunderstand their teachings or interpret things from a certain point of view. While I won’t deny you are a brilliant creator who have brought us some amazing Star Wars content you said something a little while back about Qui-Gon Jinn that I think is rather nearsighted and in my opinion incorrect.

“And with the death of Qui-Gon Jinn, Anakin loses the father figure who truly could have understood him – and maybe prevented what was to come.”

This implies several things, the first is that Anakin never had a father figure in his life. Or, rather that he lost the father figure he truly needed. In many ways this is implying that if someone grows up without a father (or a traditional father figure) then they are missing out or won’t have a stable childhood. What about all the people who are raised by single mothers or grandparents or aunts/uncles or by their older siblings?

Pixar’s Onward is a great example of finding a father figure through an older brother, it highlights that just because Ian never had a chance to meet his father didn’t mean that he lost out on a father figure in his brother Barley.

“I never had a dad, but I always had you.”

Saying that Anakin lost the father figure who truly could have understood him also just spits in the face of a young man who also lost his father figure in that moment and gave up everything to raise Anakin.

Let’s unpack that a little bit. Imagine if you will you’re twenty-five years old, you’ve worked your ENTIRE life for a particular goal which is to be a Jedi Knight, traveling the galaxy doing the most good that you can while discovering who you are on your own. Then maybe down the road when you are ready to settle down and possibly train/raise an apprentice you’ll take one on. Suddenly the only father you’ve ever known pushes you aside for a child he’s just met (without even discussing it with you first) and then uses his last words to push this child on you, making him your responsibility, thus shattering your chance at the freedom of a true Knighthood.

By all rights Obi-Wan could’ve given Anakin’s training over to the Council, the boy was in no way his responsibility. Much like an adult sibling doesn’t have to take on the responsibility of raising their minor siblings if their parents die, they could give the children over to the state and have a chance at a normal young adulthood instead of being thrust into being a parent before they are ready. But, Obi-Wan didn’t do that because he A.) Respected/loved Qui-Gon too much not to fulfill his final wishes, and B.) Knew it would be better for Anakin to take the boy under his wing.

I will say this until I am blue in the face: OBI-WAN WAS A FATHER TO ANAKIN!!

In fact, in Episode 2 Anakin refers to him as a father/father figure multiple times and it is clear their relationship while Anakin was a Padawan was that of a Father/Son. It isn’t until Anakin is knighted and they are peers that you see their relationship shift to that of brothers.

Am I saying that Obi-Wan didn’t make mistakes when raising Anakin? Absolutely not, but would I argue that Anakin was missing out on a father figure because Qui-Gon died? No, I would not.

The second part of that quote claims that Qui-Gon Jinn could’ve been someone who understood Anakin and might’ve been able to prevent what was to come. I 100% believe that would not have happened, while I think Qui-Gon Jinn is a very interesting character there is no indication in either canon or legends that he would’ve been a good influence on Anakin. In fact, quite the opposite. Here are the top ten reasons Qui-Gon would’ve been a terrible father influence for Anakin:

1. Qui-Gon Jinn thinks the rules don’t apply to him: While many fans applaud Qui-Gon (including apparently you, Mr. Filoni) for going against the Jedi Council and being a “Maverick” I would argue that more often than not it was to his or his mission’s detriment. This is not to advocate that the Council was 100% correct or that Jedi shouldn’t question things, but there is a difference between questioning authority figures and flat out being obstinate. This is something Anakin excels at even with being raised by the rule abiding Kenobi, imagine how bad it would’ve been had Jinn raised him.

2. Qui-Gon Jinn was selfish: There are several examples of Qui-Gon using the guise of “the will of the Force” in order to get his way. Are we honestly supposed to believe that somehow this one man was more in tune with the Force than any other Jedi (including 12 powerful Jedi who were on the Council)?? And, if he truly believed in following the will of the Force then why did he constantly bend the rules to make sure the “Force” went his way - an example of this is had he actually believed it was the will of the Force that he free Anakin, he wouldn’t have had to make the chance cube go the way he wanted it to go. He flat out cheated so he could get his way.

3. Qui-Gon was dangerously reckless: Many Jedi are reckless, even Obi-Wan said to Yoda in ESB “so was I if you’ll remember”. But Qui-Gon was reckless in ways that was pretty astounding. For example, EVERYONE told him that his plan to get off of Tatooine was dangerous and frankly stupid. Couldn’t they have just sold the Naboo ship and then purchased a clunker that would get them to Coruscant? Honestly, that would’ve probably hidden them better from the Trade Federation in the long run...but no, he instead decided the best course of action was to put a slave child in mortal danger, thus also placing all of their lives in the hands of a boy who had NEVER won a race before. Now, it ended up working in his favor, but even still those few days spent fixing up Anakin’s pod and then the race itself delayed the Queen from getting to Coruscant which meant more people died on Naboo all because Qui-Gon refused to see any other solutions.

4. Qui-Gon was often a bully: our Maverick had no problems throwing his weight around to get what he wanted. The Council meeting with Anakin is a perfect example, he didn’t get the answer he wanted. So he put his hands on his hips and refused to leave the room until the Council caved to his demands. Another example of this is in Claudia Grey’s Master & Apprentice where he refuses to do his duty as a Jedi and fulfill the mission simply because he had a vision. He doesn’t discuss this with the Council or with Obi-Wan beforehand, he just decides for himself this is how it’s going to be and then throws a hissy-fit when he doesn't get his way. Or how about he is the one who cheated to get his way in winning Anakin and when Watto calls him out he threatens to get the Hutts involved? He just bullies his way to getting what he wanted.

5. Qui-Gon never saw the bigger picture: Master Jinn’s whole thing is to focus on the here and the now, and while that’s great advice (especially for Obi-Wan who often looks too far a head) it also means that Qui-Gon often misses the big picture. An example of this is in the book Master & Apprentice where he wants to free the slaves on Pijal’s moon, but Yoda has to remind him that there is a bigger picture and they can only act if it’s in their mandate. He says this not because the Council doesn’t want to free slaves, but because there are incredibly complex consequences and if they were to just do whatever they wanted/could do as Jedi it would cause all kinds of issues for others and while he could maybe free a handful of slaves now it would cause countless others to suffer in the long run. But, Qui-Gon wouldn’t accept this, because he refused to see the bigger picture - he refused to look at anything except what was right in front of him.

6. Qui-Gon has a history of failing his Apprentices: Now, I know this isn’t Canon at the moment, but by the time we make it to TPM Qui-Gon has already done severe damage to 2 former Padawans, and is in danger of having history repeat itself. Xanatos was his second Apprentice right before Obi-Wan, and this Padawan was extremely powerful and Qui-Gon insisted he be trained, but the boy fell to the darkside because he had been too old to start training and had a healthy attachment to his family (sound familiar?). Qui-Gon was so devastated by his fall that he went back and reputed his first apprentice, Feemor, claiming he was such a failure of a Master that there is no way his first apprentice should’ve been knighted. He basically in his grief pushed aside an apprentice who while on paper wasn’t anything special, but was kind and dutiful and a true Jedi (sound familiar?). He then begrudgingly takes on Obi-Wan (only after 12 year old Obi-Wan offers to kill himself to save others) and then time and time again tries to basically pawn off Obi-Wan onto someone else (even as far into their relationship as the Master & Apprentice book). Then, when it finally looks like the Kenobi/Jinn team have figured out how to work well together Qui-Gon has to literally be reminded that his Obi-Wan even exists because Qui-Gon is so blinded by Anakin’s power!! How in any way does this seem like a better father figure option for the emotionally needy Anakin?

7. Qui-Gon Jinn has a history of Attachments: The specific example I have is again from Legends, but it shows how Qui-Gon allowed attachments to become dangerous. He had a childhood friend who he fell in love with, they decided that they could handle being committed to each other as well as the Order so they “pledged themselves” to one another (my guess is basically this is like a Jedi marriage so to speak). Sounds beautiful right, and it is, but...But his love interest Tahl was injured on a war torn planet where the children are so sick of their parents' civil war that they form a third army and go to war against the adults. Tahl is caught in the middle of this and is gravely injured. Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon are sent to rescue her, and Obi-Wan is sickened by the sight of children fighting and wants to stay and help, but Qui-Gon is so blinded by his attachment for Tahl that he for the first time EVER actually follows his mandate and tells Obi-Wan that they weren’t sent there to help the children, but to rescue Tahl. Obi-Wan who is only 13 doesn’t understand so instead of taking the time to really explain it, Qui-Gon just LEAVES his young apprentice behind on a war torn planet. Now, I’ll admit that Qui-Gon did give Obi-Wan a choice, to come back to Coruscant or to stay and fight, thus leaving the Jedi Order and Obi-Wan did make the choice to stay. But, it was Qui-Gon’s responsibility as the teacher to fully explain the situation to Obi-Wan and let him know that they could do more good if they were to go back to the Council and the Senate and try to return with supplies and reinforcements. But no, Qui-Gon just yelled at him, disregarded his feelings and told him their mission was to rescue Tahl. He didn’t bother using this as a teaching moment for Obi-Wan because he was so concerned about his attachment. And then later when Tahl actually died, Qui-Gon nearly fell to the dark side and it was Obi-Wan who saved him. And then Qui-Gon went on to decide that because of the pain that had been inflicted by losing Tahl he’d basically give Obi-Wan an ultimatum when it came to the woman he loved (and basically downplayed it as nothing but a crush). Now, say what you want about how Obi-Wan handled Anakin/Padme’s relationship - maybe pretending it wasn’t happening instead of confronting Anakin about it wasn’t a healthy/smart choice, but at least he didn’t downplay it and make it look like Anakin’s feelings weren’t real or valid.

8. Qui-Gon refused to apologize: There are several examples where Qui-Gon refuses to accept any responsibilities and won’t apologize. One such point is in TPM where he basically traded his current Padawan in for a newer/shinier model in front of the entire Council (which if this alone isn’t enough cause to prove the man wasn’t the best father figure…) he then refused to even approach Obi-Wan about it, in fact the twenty five year old Apprentice who had just been tossed aside for a supposed prophecy came and apologized to Qui-Gon!! Another example is back in the Jedi Apprentice books where Qui-Gon leaves Obi-Wan on the war torn planet (as mentioned in #7) it is up to Obi-Wan to make it up to Qui-Gon and prove his worth once again. I’m not certain given Anakin’s tendency to need constant affirmations that this would’ve been a good combination.

9. Qui-Gon was manipulative: Oftentimes we see Qui-Gon manipulating people to get his way (I’m not talking about Jedi Mind Tricks). In TPM he manipulates Watto to win Anakin’s freedom, he even manipulates Obi-Wan into taking on the burden of training Anakin by making it his dying wish. He is not above manipulation if he gets his desired result. We see Anakin does the same thing, so one could argue Qui-Gon would’ve only encouraged this behavior.

10. Qui-Gon cared more about the prophecy than the boy: I’m not saying that Qui-Gon didn’t care about people, or even Anakin, in fact he was a very compassionate character. But, all of his arguments to have Anakin be trained was that he is “the Chosen One” not once does he talk about how the boy needs training simply because it’d be dangerous to leave such raw power alone in the galaxy without training, or that it would be the right thing to do. He doesn’t ever talk about how learning to be a Jedi would actually benefit the boy. Every single time he brings up Anakin needing training is because of the prophecy. Now, as far as it looks in both canon and legends Obi-Wan tried incredibly hard to not bring up the prophecy to Anakin (except on Mustafar), Obi-Wan would bring it up to Mace/Yoda but that was about it. Obi-Wan wasn’t blinded by the prophecy because until ROTS it didn’t really appear that he even believed in it - he believed in Anakin for who he was as a person. Something we just didn’t see with Qui-Gon.

Now, Qui-Gon has a lot of great qualities, I am not denying that, but to say that he would’ve been the father figure Anakin needed is just misguided. If you believe in the idea that there is a will of the Force one could argue that Obi-Wan training Anakin was that will, otherwise Qui-Gon wouldn’t have died.

Also, Mr. Filoni, why is it that Anakin supposedly suffered because he didn’t have a father figure yet you turned around and gave Ahsoka a brother, not a father? Are you suggesting Ahsoka suffered as well because she didn’t have a father figure? Or, was Obi-Wan by this time finally “old” enough to be considered a father figure?

This idea that Qui-Gon Jinn would’ve been the fix it to Anakin’s issues is just silly and once again places the blame of the Jedi’s destruction in the hands of the Council and specifically Obi-Wan, thus not forcing Anakin to be held responsible for any of his actions.

I’m sorry, but it’s not a theory I buy due to a lack of evidence.

#star wars #rant post #obi wan appreciation #qui gon jinn #obi wan kenobi #Anakin Skywalker #jedi council appreciation #dave filoni #the phantom menace #The Clone Wars #stop blaming the jedi #sorry but this has been on my mind a lot #not qui gon bashing i promise #obi wan deserved better

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tobi-momo · 3 years

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"The Setter's Help" Chapter 3

Pairing: Kageyama Tobio x Volleyball player!reader

Synopsis: With a big game coming up, the confidence in your setting has gone down significantly. Knowing the setter on the Karasuno boy's volleyball club is good at what he does, you ask him for help. Will he help you build your confidence and skills or will he just tear it down more?

Genre: Romance, fluff, some crack, angst, hurt/comfort

Chapter Warnings: nothing much, maybe some cursing?Word Count: 1.7k

Taglist: open!! send an ask :p

a/n: hi okakdhdh this is mostly a filler episode bc i wanted to update it and so more bigger chapters will come later on :)

“Did I do that right?” You ask curiously as you turn towards the net, looking at your hands and arms. Kageyama walks toward you in concentration as he lifts your arms up with his hands; they were very soft and gentle for an athlete, you noticed. He didn’t drag your limbs anywhere, just politely placing them where they were needed.

“Almost,” he mumbles, distracted by focus as he corrects your form while you huff in frustration with yourself, turning down towards the floor, your eyes tracing the colored lines on the polished wood. “Relax, it isn’t that bad. Your finger and your thumb were a little too far apart, that’s why the ball doesn’t have as much power and it keeps slipping. Try it again.”

Sighing, you get back into positing, taking in his glance of determination as he squats to toss you the ball. You breathe in and out carefully, eyeing the ball with focus as it comes flying towards your chest.

Too low.

The toss was a good one, just a little low, so you knew you had to get under it, like he said. The ball is just centimeters closer when you recall everything he’s been teaching you: getting under the ball, your form, the positions, back-row setting, racking your brain for a solution to getting under this as fast as possible. Then you remember. Just move your legs a little to the right, bend your knees and lower your stance, and you’ll be fine. No fuss needed. The ball comes crashing in once your brain comes back in motion, your right foot slamming on the ground, your body getting just a tiny bit lower to the ground as you narrow your eyes toward your objective. You watch your thumbs get closer to your index fingers as you finally make contact with the ball, letting it fall into your hands, then pushing it upwards with the flick of your wrists, sending it out towards the middle front position.

The ball smacks the floor with an echo, your eyes shining. You did that right. At least, you assume so from how cool it looked. It wasn’t much, since you set to a lower position, but the way the ball fell perfectly in your hands, like you were molding it to your will, was a feeling you didn’t want to get rid of.

“That was so cool,” you breathe out, your hands on your knees while you squint an eye at the ground, catching your breath. A smile appeared under your nose, the corners of your lips tugging upwards as you bite your lip. Maybe you had a slight chance.

“Looked good.”

“What?” You shout, throwing your hands up as you walk towards him. “You gotta give me more than that, Kageyama, tell me what you really think.” You look in his eyes, them refusing to show emotion towards you. At this point you knew that he was holding back, that he could do so much more but just doesn’t know how. You planned to help him with that.

You could see the surprise in his face as his eyes widened, immediately looking away. He clears his throat, “your form was okay and your set was accurate,” is all he says, turning completely around so his back could face you instead of his chest, his head shaking a couple times, as if to rid the mind of something, before he starts to lead himself away. You nod in understanding, thinking about the possible ways to fix that in your head next time.

“I’m heading out,” he calls, grabbing his volleyball and strapping it over his shoulder.

“Mm, okay! Thank you! I can already tell I’m getting better,” you spout to him cheerily, waving to him as he makes his way out. You were surprised by the amount of reaction on his face; you couldn’t tell if he was shocked or surprised to hear something like that.

“Bye,” he mutters. You could tell he took it as a compliment, as you meant it, and forgot how to react. All you did was smile, though. Smile at him as he leaves the gym, the door shutting loudly as he exits.

You sigh, hurrying to grab another ball before jogging to the nearest wall, playing with the ball in your hands, spinning it and bouncing it with your palms. You needed to master this. You needed to be perfect. No exceptions. Even if you had to stay all night, it needed to be done.

~.~.~.~

You cursed under your breath, wanting to scream but holding back as the night sky showed through the window panes. You never bothered to check your phone, forgetting the time. You don’t think it matters anyways, since this was more important. You were hungry, your fingers hurt and your thighs were sore. You ignored it, continuing to hit the ball at the wall, waiting for it to bounce back up at you until you set the ball back at the wall, coming to you again to spike it. It was an endless cycle. One that you’ve broken multiple times by your inability to move. Your hand placements weren’t any better and you weren’t using your legs enough. You had hoped no one would see you mess up so many times; the embarrassment would surely kill you.

The second your phone rang you stopped the ball, curiously, sluggishly walking over to see the matter.

Oh shit.

Your parents messaged you, wondering where you’ve gone. It was past nine-thirty at night, as you would have left about four hours earlier when your lessons with Kageyama ended. You needed to leave before you never saw the light of day again.

~.~.~.~

Your muscles were tired, dead. You wanted to crawl inside a hole and never come out. But here you are, walking down the hallway to reach your class. Your body didn’t want to cooperate with you, but you could bear it, at least until after your private practice.

You saw him a couple times in the hall, not paying any attention to you, even looking the other way. You wanted to greet him, but you cut yourself the possible embarrassment when you just walk past him. Except- you weren’t walking anymore. Your body halts completely as you look at an orange-haired boy bombarding you with a shout of your name.

“Y/n! You’re Y/n, right?”

“Uh, yeah, why?” You stutter, confused.

“Hinata, dumbass! Get away from her, you're scaring her!” Kageyama’s voice chimes in, you hear. A yell you were oh, so familiar with. You awkwardly laugh as you back up, being stopped yet again as your back hits a firm chest. Your head whips around to see a much bigger figure than you, a bigger boy towering over you with a smirk, a beanie, and his short friend next to him.

What the fuck was going on?

“So, Y/n, huh?” The taller boy says, taking a step towards you.

“Uh, what? Yes- me. That’s my name.” Trying to look for a lifeline, you see Kageyama’s arms raised as to stop the boy, yet refraining himself from doing it. Why was that?

The short boy laughs, moving closer to you as well. “We heard you were friends with our Kageyama-kun. We just wanted to say hi,” he smiles, mischief painted all around it.

“What? I mean, I guess? We aren’t really friends he’s just helping me with my skills an-”

“Kageyama!”

“What!?”

“You said you were friends!”

“No I didn’t! I said we weren’t dating!”

What.

“What?” Your eyes flicker between each man, their expressions telling you that his sentence wasn’t supposed to slip.

“Kageyama, stupid! You weren’t supposed to say that!”

“I didn’t know??”

“Shhhhhhhhh let us talk to her,” the taller boy interrupts the orange-haired boy and Kageyama, bringing the short boy further into the picture. Leaving forever has never sounded as good an option as it has right now.

"How do you feel about our Kageyama-kun, Y/n-san?" The short boy speaks up. Your eyes travel to Kageyama, who seems too occupied with pushing the orange-haired boy away from him, yelling curses and insults his way, the other reciprocating.

You decide to ask the most obvious question. "Who are you guys?"

"What?!" They all yell in unison incredulously, staring at you.

"What?" You ask obliviously.

"How come you know Kageyama and not us?" The short boy shouts, stepping closer.

"Well, I went to a couple of your games and saw that Kageyama was really good so I asked around who he was, I guess I never got the rest of your names," you think, not noticing the open mouths of everyone surrounding you.

"Well then," the taller boy cleared his throat, clearing the atmosphere, "I guess we'll have to introduce ourselves."

"Yeah!"

"Um, okay?" You reply, still uncomfortable.

"I'm Tanaka-"

"I'm Nishinoya! We're your senpai's!" He exclaims excitedly, a gleam in his eyes when he says 'senpai'.

"Dude! I was gonna say that!" Tanaka whines.

"I'm sorry! Just got a little excited."

"Hey! I'm Hinata Shoyo," the orange-haired boy tells you politely and cheekily. You smile at him, grateful that he wasn't in your face for too long. Looking to the side, you catch Kageyama staring at you, concentrated and lost in his head as his eyes stick to your figure.

You didn't need to check the time to know you were going to be late if you didn't head to class, so you greeted the boys back.

"Nice to meet all of you, see you guys later! Bye, Kageyama-kun!" You say before walking off. He caught the way your smile seemed a little more genuine that time. It might just be him but it seems as if you were glowing more.

You might have been, maybe just a little bit, been shining a bit more today. You couldn't see it yourself, and surely nobody else noticed from the way their backs were turned away and their mouths were constantly making noise while engaging in conversations, so why was it noticeable to Kageyama? Why was he the only one to see the fact that even though you had dark circles and the smallest of limps, you were more obvious to him than anyone else?

He was curious, but kept his mouth shut. He didn't need to be embarrassed again.

a/n: ok i know the ending sucks i just really needed to end it, i kept getting stuck on this chapter im so sorry kajdhf also dw- everything will come into play- dw :)

taglist: @luvrboykento @elektrosonix @haikyuutothetop @combat-wombatus @jungkxxkk @hp-hogwartsexpress

Masterlist

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miss-smutty · 3 years

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The Destructive Secret

Chapter 5

A/N- This is the angsty chapter I shared an extract from earlier. 😭😭😭

Summary- Chris lays his emotions bare and now you're only left with one option. Your secret needs to come out but how?

Word count- 1.6K

Pairing- Chris Hems x Reader x Liam Hems

Warnings- Angst, smut, swearing

18+ Only!!

Posted: 10th July 2021

Taglist:- @innerpaperexpertcloud @pandaxnienke @chickensarentcheap @mostly-marvel-musings @longlostinanotherworld

Disclaimer: This is an entire work of fiction/AU and has no affiliation to real life what so ever! This is a fictional story about fictional characters who happen to share names and faces with some real people.

The Destructive Secret Masterlist <<<<<

If you let yourself admit it, you wanted excitement, which is how you ended up here in the first place. You didn't want perfect anymore, you wanted a man who could do wrong and then make up for it in the most fulfilling way he knew how. Just thinking about it made your pulse race, Chris had put you through hell last night and now it was time for payback. You imagined him only a couple of floors above you, worried about the way you were going to act when you saw him and lord knows how much you're going to make him sweat.

You checked the coast was clear, peeking your head out of the door first, making sure there was no one in the hallway before you walked casually towards the elevator. Your heart rate was elavating almost as fast as the metal box you were encased in, travelling all the way to the top of the ridiculously high hotel building. You tried to block the thoughts of how high you must be from your head, distracting yourself from the thoughts of the walls closing in on you - your claustrophobia taking its hold.

By the time you stepped out of the elevator you were gasping for air, clutching at the walls to steady you, more than thankful that the ground was no longer moving. You pulled yourself together at least enough to actually put one foot in front of the other, your pulse still racing as you knocked on Chris' door. Chris answered almost immediately, you were knocked back like a punch in the chest when you saw him stood in only his boxers, his hair still wet from the shower. It'd been so long since you'd seen him undressed you'd actually forgot how breathtaking a sight it was, his muscles still gleaming with water he hadn't quite dried yet, that delicious line of hair that ran from his navel to below the hem of his boxers like a pathway leading to heaven.

Your eyes followed the line upwards to his broad chest until they met with his unblinking, sparkling blue eyes, alight with desire. You followed him into the room, not wanting anyone to see you and the huge smile on his face disappeared when he saw your face change from desire to anger. Expressionless and set firmly.

"Everything ok?" He looked you up and down, taking you in, pulling you towards him and into his arms. "Babe?" He looks down at you, moving you to arms length so he could see your face when you don't return his hug.

"No, what the fuck was that about last night?" You wriggle out of his arms, his touch making your body tingle. "Why you just pretending like that didn't happen?"

"Fuck sake, we doing this now?" He runs his hand through his hair, throwing himself back on to the bed. It takes everything in you not to straddle him but you meant what you said when you said you were going to make him squirm.

"Yeah we're doing it now. That was fucking cruel, for me and for Liam."

"It was cruel? How the fuck do you think I feel?" He sits up to look at you and you can see the tears in his eyes. "I have to see you together all the fucking time, I have to watch him all over you when we're at family parties." He stands up from the bed, pacing the floor in front of you. Your eyes were starting to sting with tears, you wasn't quite expecting this reaction.

"So excuse me if I was a little harsh but he doesn't appreciate what he's got. That he gets to see you every day and this..." he gestures to the room. "This is what I get."

"I know, I'm sorry it's hard. It's ok, we don't have to talk about it anymore."

"No, no, you wanted to talk so you can listen. You're constantly telling me how hard it is for you and how you can't do it anymore and i take it all, I listen to you taking it out on me all of the time." You sit down on the end of the bed, wishing you had just let it go. You can't help but cry now, wishing you could take it back, wishing you hadn't made him so upset. You're terrified at the words that are going to come out of his mouth, terrified that it's going to all end.

"I.. I'm sorry Chris." You cry, barely even able to look at your man falling apart in front of you.

"You never hear how hard it is for me, how badly I want it to be over with but you won't will you? You can't face being the bad guy for once. Last night I was willing to take the fall, I was willing to take the blame just so we didn't have to do this anymore and then I saw your face... Fuck..." He shakes his head, looking up at the ceiling, his hands tucked behind his head. "I saw your face and I knew, I fucking knew you still couldn't do it." Chris was crying silently, his anger and frustration falling from his eyes.

"Baby, babe please..." You get up, tucking yourself into his chest trying to calm him down. "Look at me Chris." You cup your fingers under his chin trying to get him to look at you.

"I don't want to fucking do this anymore, I can't do it anymore." He breaks down, finally looking into your eyes, the amount of pain you see there breaks your heart.

"I know baby." You pull him into you, so his heads resting on your shoulder as you sit back onto the end of the bed. "We're going to figure it out this weekend ok? I fucking love you though, I'm yours ok?"

Is it possible to love two people at the same time? You think it is, no you know it is because you do. You love them both so much, just maybe one of them slightly more and though you hate yourself for it, it's not Liam.

The atmosphere changes suddenly when Chris looks up at you, his eyes alight with flaring need. Pushing you back on to the bed, his knees either side as he leans over you, his face hovering above yours. You wince at the anguish and neediness you see in his eyes beneath the lust. You will satiate his need anyway he wants you to, just so you don't have to see that look in his eyes again.

"Show me you're mine." His hand cups around your burning heat, the heel of his hand pressing into your clit making you writhe beneath him.

You moan deeply for him as he pulls your panties off, discarding them over his shoulder. Sucking air through his teeth he rubs circles over your clit, slowly.

"Say it, tell me how much you want me." He groans, his cock straining against his boxers.

"I want you. I want you so badly." He leans back to watch you as you move your hand between you both to cup his straining cock, squeezing gently. Your body arching from the bed at the feel of his hardness.

Chris groans gruffly, a deep animal like noise leaving his lips as he pulls out his cock, lining up with your opening and pushing himself in hurriedly. He reaches down to take your lips in his, claiming them with heavy kisses making your lips feel swollen and plump. Your neck straining to reach him as he clings to your bottom lip with his teeth pulling back, watching his cock slide in and out, the tightness of your walls clinging to his length with its own thirst and need.

Gritting his teeth as he grips on to the headboard with one hand, the other seizing your ass in his big hands, lifting you up as he burys you into the mattress with his relentless pounding. You whine loudly, the feel of his cock stretching your walls becoming too much. Your mind whirring, ears ringing as you release around his grip.

You can see the desperation on his face, the urge to cum and the desire to show you what you are missing dueling in his mind. His face contorted into an uncomfortable expression as he eases his pace, thoughts drifting through his mind as he tries to control his heart rate. You cup your hand on his cheek, trying to get him to look at you but he can't, one look and it's all over he wouldn't be able to resist.

"He can't do it like I do. That's why you keep coming back isn't it?" You turn your head to the side to hide the tears that threaten to fall, heart broken at how this whole situation is breaking him, how much he's in denial about the way you feel about him because you're not tough enough to do anything about it.

"Speak to me, tell me. I need to hear it... Please." His voice breaks.

"Yes, fuck baby. You're all I want." And that's all he needs to hear until he thrusts deeply inside of you, painting your insides with his cum, a gutteral moan emitting from his lips.

Rolling over onto his back, he pulls you onto him, your head resting in the crook of his neck, his hands stroking your smooth back.

"I love you, Y/N."

"I love you too." You plant a kiss under his chin, too worn out to move properly. Emotions well and truly kicking in now.

"I want to do that every day, multiple times." He sighs.

"Soon, my love." You soothe.

He turns on his side, looking at you, his leg wrapping around yours. Holding you close, afraid to let you go.

"I want to be able to take you out and show you off, instead of hiding away in hotels rooms. I want everyone to know you're mine, not Liam's."

#smut #chris hemsworth #chris hemsworth fanfic #chris hemsworth smut #chris hemsworth x reader #chris hemsworth x you #liam hemsworth

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imgonnagetkilledbynutstink · 3 years

Text

Lol stupid rant sorry

Unpopular opinion but honestly i think Martin was kinda a shitty boyfriend. Sure maybe he wasnt the worst of all time but he treated Jon terribly at some points. Like when Jon started to hwbe to give the statements. I get it was a bit annoying but Martin was treating Jon like a burden over it and getting super annoyed after like 10 statements, like dude, you should know how this works by now???? And then with Jon killing avatars. People always say that Jon owed Martin that kill but lets be honest when it comes to murder Jon doesnt owe anyone anything. It was all Martin's idea in the first place and he pushed the fact that "itd be doing good" so heavily that it never gave Jon time to genuinly think about it. Plus the argument about Jude Perry is a really bad one, Jon gave Martin the option to leave amd literally said he wouldn't do it cause Martin was more important, but then Martin got all upset that Jon was having him make the decision even though he knew where Jon stood on it, and so Jon chose to go and kill Jude. They could've avoided that whole situation if Martin hadn't been such a prick about it.

And then there were all the times where Martin underminded and got upset with Jon for having emotions or feeling upset about something and treated it like Jon was being selfish every time he had the audacity to be uncomfortable with something. And then the one time Martin doesn't like something about their situation and Jon tells him to suck it up (exactly like Martin had to him MULTIPLE TIMES) suddenly Jons the one in the wrong even though he was kinda right at the time. And then thetes Martin causally hitting Jon. I know most find that detail really funny but at the end of the day it was just uncalled for. Martin probably hit Jon like 3 times and never once tried shaking him or tapping his shoulder or anything just yelling and when that didnt work, hitting. It was so bad that Jon called him out on it once. And then when Martin was in his domain he kinda talked shit about Jon behind his back. And you'll say he defended him even though he was literally defending him againts another part of his own brain... Martin was just like Basira. Constantly acting like he understood what was going through Jon's hesd and hardly giving him much real help or sympathy. He reassures Jon that stuff isnt his fault or that he isnt a burden until Jon does something that inconveniences him. Sure, Martin had his moments. But overall Jon deserved better.

#tma #the magnus archives #martin blackwood #jonathan sims #jonmartin #rusty quill #podcast

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marshmallow-phd · 4 years

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Healing Touch

Part of The Untamed - EXO Wolf Universe

Genre: Wolf!AU

Pairing: Yixing x Reader

Summary: Medical school abroad was the last line on your to-do list before starting the rest of your life. Everything was going according to plan. Everything, that is, until tragedy strikes your campus. In the wake of a professor’s untimely death, you’re partnered with the cute boy with a breathtaking smile in the newly combined labs. You find yourself unable to resist the dimples and shy glances, but his life is here with no plans of leaving. Will you continue on as planned or will you accept the hand that Fate had dealt you?

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I Final

The smell had not changed in all the years that you used to call this place home. Pinecone potpourri mixed with traditional cooking spices and a hint of citrus from the constant dusting. Your aunt had always been a bit eccentric, a bit off beat. It had made being raised by her both adventurous and anxiety-inducing.

In the privacy of your home, her random dance parties and unfiltered way of speaking made you laugh. But when you were in public and she was pretending to be a mannequin in a window display, you ran away to the food court to hide behind a cup of boba. The explanation was always the same no matter what antics she was pulling: she wanted to break you out of your shell. It seemed like a lost cause. You were comfortable in your shell. It protected you and kept you warm.

“I don’t see how you expect to go trialing off to a place you’ve never been before,” your aunt had complained when you first told her about applying to the far away college.

“They’re two entirely different situations,” you had argued. “I can go to class and go back home without any issues.” These days there was your phone if you ever got lost or in need of food but didn’t want to leave the comfort of your apartment. Modern conveniences only enabled your shut-in ways.

“But what about, you know, friends?” She looked at you over her stylish, cat-eye glasses that she had no use for with her perfect vision.

“I have those,” you insisted. So, you might not have had a best friend, but you had people that you occasionally hung out with and collaborated on. Then there was Victoria and Amber from high school. You still spoke to them regularly, despite them going to different colleges out of the area. Your aunt didn’t realize that not everyone needed multiple circles of friends to bounce between.

Pushing her glasses back up her nose, your aunt pouted. “I just worry about you, that’s all. You still don’t like getting into cars, especially by yourself, and if you happen to be studying late….”

“I don’t mind taking the bus.” A bit of a stretch. You did mind but would still take it if the situation were dire enough. Walking was good exercise. And better for the environment. Someone had to look out for the little bunnies.

“Alright,” your aunt huffed as she sipped on her now lukewarm tea. “It is your life. I’m just a spectator of it.”

“At least you have premium seating,” you teased.

That had made your aunt laugh. She was back to her more carefree self.

“Is that my favorite niece?”

“No, it’s your least favorite nephew.”

Your aunt poked her head out of the hallway, the edge of her pink fuzzy robe telling you that she was getting ready to go out.

That was the exchange the two of you always had when you came to visit. The first time around, you had rolled your eyes and given the sarcastic answer for the cliché greeting. As your mother and aunt were the only siblings in their family and your father was the single offspring from his parents, there were no other nieces or nephews to put above or below you.

Without prompt, your aunt passed through the living room and onto the kitchen. When she came back, she had two wine glasses filled with bubble pink liquid. After handing you the lesser filled glass, she sat down on the couch while you opted for the loveseat, letting your purse drop to the hardwood floor by your feet. Your aunt leaned back on the arm rest with one elbow as she sipped on the wine. “It’s watermelon,” she informed you when you hadn’t taken a drink. “Try it.”

Shaking your head, you did as she asked. Oh, no. It was delicious. That was dangerous. You took another, larger swig before putting the glass down on the coffee table.

Growing up, you’d felt bad for your aunt. Sometimes you still did, though not as much after her many lectures as to why you shouldn’t.

She’d always been the carefree one. As a marketing consultant, she was constantly flying all over the globe, having adventures in between work meetings and bringing those experiences back to you in the form of expensive souvenirs. When your parents volunteered to go help a poorer nation with their health crisis, your aunt was quick to lend her babysitting services. It was only supposed to be temporary, after all. Then tragedy struck

Your parents never came back and suddenly your aunt was now your permanent guardian. The carefree spirit took it in stride. She shifted her strategy to more web-based conferences until you were in high school and able to be on your own for longer periods of time. She never turned into your mother; she never wanted to. For that, you were even more thankful. She was still the spontaneous, forever young aunt that you had always known. That stability in her personality was exactly what you needed. Too much had changed in your world on a dime, the less that was altered the better.

“What prompted this little visit?” she asked, a curious half smile on her lips.

You shrugged. “I hadn’t seen you in a while, so I thought I’d stop by and say hi. It looks like you’re getting ready to go out, though.”

Your aunt waved her hand limply. “Not for a few hours. Besides, anything can wait for you.”

Shifting in your seat, you smiled at the affection she had for you. “I finally heard from the university,” you told her.

Her eyebrows shot up. “You did? They finally decided to stop dangling the carrot and just give it to you, did they?”

“Not exactly,” you cringed. “They said they wanted to see how this semester went and then they would let me know.”

Your aunts face fell into a scowl as if something awful smelling had made its way into her nose. “What sense does that make?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. But at least it’s not an outright no.”

Clicking her tongue, your aunt leaned forward so she was now balancing her elbows on her knees. “You know, there are still other options. Closer options.”

“I know,” you said with a monotone voice. “But Plan A is my focus. I’ll look to other options if that falls through.”

That knowing look you were all too familiar with formed on her face. A long, reminiscing sigh blew out from her lungs. “You are so much like your mother. It’s scary sometimes.”

You never knew how to respond when she said things like that. Should you be happy at the comparison? Sad because your mother wasn’t here to tell you herself? You were a child when your parents passed away. You remembered vague moments, birthday parties and movie nights. But when you’re that young, you don’t get a good idea of your parents’ personalities. You don’t learn what they like or don’t like, how they act in crowds versus a small group of people. You have to rely on the memories of those left behind.

You stayed at your aunt’s house for another hour or so, talking to her about her latest clients and nights out with the girls. You told her how your days were going and how you were adjusting to the new routine with the combined class. The news of Yixing sat on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t bring yourself to mention him. Her reaction would have been too predictable. She’d ask when the two of you were going to go out and when you explained that it wasn’t like that, she would ask why not. For that, you didn’t have an answer.

While you wanted to say that the two of you were just friends, it didn’t feel like the truth.

You saw more of Yixing than of anyone else, including Ran. He would walk you to class multiple times a day and the two of you would talk. Not about anything too deep. You weren’t at that level yet. He was funny and charming, never speaking a word that wasn’t kind. You learned that he lived in farmhouse in the woods with eight other people, all men. He swore it was never too crowded and that he actually enjoyed the company. He got lonely easily.

He also told you about how he took a few years off of college to figure out what he wanted to do. You’d asked him how he came to the path of becoming a doctor. He said he simply wanted to do something that would help people. He thought about opening a low-income clinic once he had his degree. Suddenly your heart was pumping under your sternum. When he asked why you went pre-med, you gave a shrug and said your parents and left it at that. These conversations were usually nice and lighthearted, you didn’t want to be the downer.

Yes, spending time with Yixing was nice, the highlight of your day, sometimes. But he also felt like a secret. One that you should keep to yourself for now. Good things didn’t always last. You wanted to see if this was a long-term investment for him before you invited anyone else in.

The next day, you needed some fresh air, so you decided to take a walk in the nature center on the edge of town. Although the woods would be a no-go area since they still hadn’t caught the animal terrorizing the area, the center would be full of people and should be quite safe. It couldn’t really be considered part of the woods given the infrastructure and the observation building, could it? Deciding to go anyway, you packed your bag with a few notes, snacks, and a water bottle. As your hand landed on the doorknob to leave, your eyes fell on the jacket lying on the back of the couch.

You hadn’t worn the comforting fabric since that day. The weather had been nice and putting it on would have seemed a bit obnoxious in your eyes. But this morning the weatherman had mentioned a chilly breeze. It wouldn’t hurt.

Arms through their designated holes, you left the apartment and started the walk to the outskirts of town. It wasn’t too far of a walk, maybe thirty, forty minutes at the most. You thanked yourself for wearing the jacket. A “chilly breeze” was an understatement. A few families and couples were dotted among the trails of the nature center that wound near and over the small creek. You passed by them all until you came to a spot that was deserted. Resting your legs, you sat on a bench with your back to the trees. The sun was shining up above. The only noise seemed to come from the rustling leaves and trickling creek. It was peaceful, just what you needed.

With your bag beside you, you took out a piece of paper with yesterday’s notes and started to review them. Some of the words were smudged and the edges were already crinkling, but you could make most of it out. The paper flopped in the wind. You thought you had a good enough grip on it, but a gust of air proved you wrong.

The paper went flying over your head and straight for the trees. Panic made you jump up, slinging your bag over your shoulder as you ran after it. The wind – now relentless – was enough to keep the paper continuously out of your reach.

It finally came to a stop when it caught on a tree root sticking out in the ground. You snatched the paper up and stuffed it into the bag to keep it from running away again. Straightening up again, your eyes settled on the horizon.

Then you screamed.

Yixing’s eyes snapped open.

He was no longer a wolf. He was human again. Sitting up, he brushed off the leaves from his arms. What time was it? Was it even the same day? He’d blacked out again. At this point, it was almost routine. His only consolation prize being the fact that he was alone. He still needed to figure out what was happening to him. He wasn’t ready to take this to his brothers. There was enough to worry about at the moment.

Getting on his feet, Yixing headed in the direction of where his things were stored. In order to avoid the others wanting to run with him, he’d entered the forest from a different area, storing his things in a bush to get back to later. He flicked his jeans to get the dirt off before pulling them on and then stuffing his feet in his shoes.

A piercing cry for cut through the air.

The hair on the back of Yixing’s neck stood up.

“Help! Somebody help!”

It was your voice.

He gasped. Then he took off. If anything happened to you-

Yixing skidded to a stop when he saw you kneeling in the grass. A body was laying in front of you, the clothes ripped and stained dark. It was lying face down, but Yixing could tell that it was a man and that he’d been attacked.

“(Y/n), what happened?”

You stared at him with wide, confused eyes. “Yixing? What are you doing here?”

He ignored your question, more worried about your own wellbeing. “What happened?” he repeated.

You shook your head as you dropped your eyes to the man lying on the ground. “I don’t know. I just found him like this. He’s still breathing but I’m not strong enough to move him.”

Yixing analyzed the situation. His car was only on the other side of the trees. The man was still alive. From Yixing’s point of view, he could make it, but they needed to act fast. Slipping his arms under the man while careful not to move him too much, he picked the man up and motioned with his head for you to follow.

He said nothing and you asked no questions as the tree line broke. Yixing scanned the parking lot of the nature center until he found his car. He rushed to the vehicle with a few glances over his shoulder to make sure you were keeping up with him.

“(y/n)?”

“Yeah?” You were huffing. Had he been running? He’d tried to go at a pace that you could keep up with.

“In my front right pocket are my keys. Can you fish them out and unlock the doors?”

You nodded. Yixing could feel your fingers trembling as they slipped into the denim opening. The shaking was even more obvious once the keys were free, the house and car keys clinking together as you searched for the fob to unlock the doors. Without prompt, you opened the back door to allow Yixing to slip the man into the bench seat. He told you to get in the front. You tossed him the keys and the two of you rushed to the hospital.

A pair of doctors rushed out of the automatic doors as soon as the car pulled into the emergency entrance.

“We found him in the woods,” Yixing explained. The doctors quickly examined the man as two more nurses came out with a stretcher.

“I think that animal attacked him,” you added.

Yixing’s eyes flickered over to you with worry. The doctors nodded in acknowledgement then helped the nurses move the man to the stretcher. The two of you followed closely but were forced to stay behind in the waiting room. Yixing sat next to you in the uncomfortable plastic chairs that were connected to the wall.

“You never answered the question.”

Yixing frowned. “What question?”

You turned to look at him with your eyebrows furrowed, making him want to reach out and smooth the creases they created. “What you were doing out in the woods.”

Yixing stiffened. He pressed his foot into the tile floor to keep it from bouncing. “I was… hiking.”

“Without a shirt?”

He looked down. Crap. He hadn’t even realized that he wasn’t finished getting dressed before he took off. “I get warm easily.”

Your eyes narrowed suspiciously. Yixing fought to keep his face neutral. It was a pathetic excuse, he knew it. But you didn’t call him out on it. Instead, you leaned forward, unzipping the polyester bomber that was easily recognizable as his own, taking it off, and holding it out to him.

“I’m fine,” Yixing said, ignoring the jacket.

“You really should put it on. I heard the front desk call the cops. They’ll be here soon, and it’ll look suspicious. What would you tell them the reason was for you not having a shirt?”

A cheeky answer came to mind. Yixing bit down to hold it back, even if it would have caused your face to heat up in an adorable fashion. The instinct of making sure his mate was okay was almost too great to ignore. You were the one who needed to stay warm, stay protected. But you had a valid point. And you were inside, out of the wind. So, he accepted the jacket and ran the zipper almost up to his neck to hide the lack of shirt underneath.

The police arrived about twenty minutes later. They separated you, making him anxious. Over the next hour or so, Yixing gave his side of the story to the officer. They took him at his word that he was strolling through the woods. The doctors had already informed the officers that the wounds were clearly animal made. While severe, they weren’t life threatening. That gave Yixing a small amount of relief.

“Would you two like to see him?” one of the nurses asked another hour later. You nodded eagerly. Yixing stayed a bit behind as the nurse led you through the halls to a large room that held several beds separated by plastic curtains.

The man was awake. Black stitches covered his arms. Three claw marks ran down the left cheek. From what Yixing knew of the other victims, this guy was lucky. He was talking to a nurse when he looked to see who his visitors were. As soon as his eyes landed on Yixing, the heart monitor spiked and his breathing quickened.

“Hey, it’s okay, these are the people who found you,” the nurse said to try and calm him down.

“Oh.” The man’s heart rate started to slow again. Each breath was deeper until they were back to normal. “I’m sorry.”

“How are you feeling?” you asked, taking a step forward. Yixing fought the urge to put himself between you and the man you’d rescued. He was probably harmless, but he had also been through a traumatic situation.

The man nodded. “I’m… alive, at least. Thank you.”

You gave a small smile. “I’m glad I came along when I did. Did you,” you bit your bottom lip nervously, “happen to see what attacked you?”

Yixing held his breath.

“It was a large gray wolf,” the man answered. “Huge. Like a mutated one you would see in the movies. He came from nowhere, knocked me down. I thought I was going to end up like the others as he clawed at me. Then he was gone.”

Yixing’s fist tightened at his side, his throat constricting. He forced down a swallow. He couldn’t panic. Not here.

You frowned. “I wonder what scared him off.”

“Maybe you did?” Yixing said with a slight tease. It was more to keep his own mental state calm than for the benefit of everyone else.

“I’m not that frightening.”

“Whatever it was,” the man shook his head, “I’m thankful.”

“He should really rest now,” the nurse said sternly. Yixing nodded in agreement and, after the goodbyes were given, led you away.

Once outside of the hospital, Yixing stopped you. “I can take you home.”

“That’s okay,” you countered, “I can walk.”

He didn’t like that one bit. Besides, he really needed you by his side right now. “Where do you live?”

“In an apartment near campus.”

No way. “That’s nearly halfway across the city. I can take you. It’s not a big deal.”

You shifted form foot to foot, refusing to meet his eye. “I don’t… really like cars.”

“You made it here alright.”

“That’s because I was too worried about him to think about it. The adrenaline blocked everything out.”

“I’m a safe driver, I promise.”

“I believe you. I just-” You blew air out between your lips, which ended in a growl. It was actually kind of cute. Yixing pushed back a grin. It wasn’t appropriate right now. “My parents were killed in a car crash, so they kind of freak me out.” You sucked in your lips as if you hadn’t meant to reveal that vital information.

Oh. That explained… a lot actually. At least, in terms of what you had been holding back from him. He never wanted to push, but he felt better knowing more about you.

“I understand,” he said sympathetically. “Can I walk you home then? I can come back for my car later.”

You shook your head. “That’s ridiculous.”

“Maybe so. But I need to make sure that you get home safe.”

You weighed his alternative for a minute or so. Yixing kept his patience. He refused to push you farther than you were willing to go. He just needed to see you walk safely into your building and then he would be okay until he saw you again.

“Okay,” you sighed. “You can drive me home.” He could have leapt with joy.

Yixing waited for you to get in the car before sliding behind the wheel himself. The death grip you had on the side handle didn’t escape his notice. He made sure to slow down easily and to take each turn with care. The only words you spoke were to give him directions. It wasn’t until the car was in park outside of your building did you finally relax.

“Thank you,” you told him in a strained voice.

“Any time.”

“I’m sorry if I was a little dramatic. I—” the growl of your empty stomach interrupted your speech. You groaned from embarrassment. Yixing couldn’t help his laugh.

Knock, knock, knock.

Leaning over and looking through the passenger window of his car was a strange girl Yixing had never seen before. He rolled down the window barely enough to be able hear what she was saying.

“How the hell did you get (y/n) into a car?” the girl gasped. You visibly cringed in the seat, sinking down a few inches.

Yixing blinked, unsure of how to respond. “Um, I—”

“Yixing, this is my roommate, Ran,” you interrupted, saving him. “Ran, this is Yixing. We have class together.”

“Oh!” The inclination behind her exclamation was more than obvious. And Yixing didn’t object to it. “I just ordered pizza and I know (y/n) usually gets hungry around this time. Do you want to join us?”

You flashed your roommate a panicked look, but Yixing couldn’t resist the opportunity. “That sounds great.” He caught you flinching, so he added, “As long as (y/n)’s okay with it.”

“Yeah,” you relented. “It’s the least I could do. For the ride.” You flashed an annoyed glare at Ran before getting out of the vehicle.

Yixing shouldn’t be this elated as he nearly sprung from the driver’s seat. He walked around the car slowly and let you and Ran lead the way, in case you changed your mind. You didn’t, thankfully, and Yixing walked up to your door with anticipation so great that he almost was able to forget what the man had said back at the hospital.

Almost.

#exo #exo wolf au #exo wolf!au #yixing x reader #zhang yixing #lay #lay x reader #exo x fem!reader #exo werewolf au #exo werewolf!au #exo fanfic #exo fanfiction #exo supernatural au #exo series #exo college au #exo college!au #The Untamed Universe #Healing Touch

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tundrainafrica · 4 years

Text

Title: Bite

Summary: To say the least, Hange's last month of pregnancy turned out a little bumpier than what Levi would would have liked it to be.

A New Year's piece of Levihan Domestic Fluff. Happy New Year everyone!

Link to cross-postings: AO3

Notes: I know I've been writing a lot of fluff lately but yeah, just me coping with this being my first ever New Year's stuck at home with our family not together this year. Sorry for my French but Fuck Covid.

The house was quiet.

But that's how Levi wanted it. Hange was eight months pregnant after all. When she was carrying a fragile growing mini person inside her, he would rather she stayed quiet anyway. The peace and calm of the household was an improvement from the clack of rock to wood and her humming. It was a sign at least that Hange was finally getting the well needed rest that came with carrying an extra human.

But it was just a little too quiet. Too quiet for it to ever be comfortable for Levi. Levi had to note that it was past noon and Hange should have been up, playing around with whatever rocks she had on the workbench or at least sitting on the sofa reading a random book from the bookshelf in the dining room.

She probably stayed up late last night. Levi thought to himself. That thought was quickly shot down when Levi recalled that she had actually slept much earlier than him.

Of course, she's eight months pregnant. Levi attempted to scramble for other reasons for that silence as he started to give in to the nagging worry. When Hange was home, she was always making noise. Levi found it almost eerie that the noise levels were down to when Hange was out for work. All he could hear were the clatter of pans as he placed them on the sink and the simmer of the fire as he started to prepare lunch.

After I finish making lunch I'll check on her. Levi promised himself.

Levi had been up since five and had not entered the room again since then. It was for good reason. Hanger was notably crankier than usual, particularly in the mornings. Carrying an extra human to term had her having rough days every day and Levi just wanted to be a little more careful with his cards.

He turned on the radio by the kitchen window. Having an extra voice at least even if it wasn't Hange worked to alleviate some of that discomfort. He had started on reorganizing one of the cupboards when the radio whirred to life.

Hearing the man on the radio was oddly comforting. He never did leave the house as often as Hange so the radio had been his anchor to real life. With Hange home more often, he never needed to turn it on, Hange always had her own personal talkshow going on when she wasn’t asleep. Either that or he was too busy worrying about her to even have time to focus on the happenings that day.

For the first time in so long, he had the time. Enjoy it while you can. Levi told himself as he started to ponder what the news of the day would be. Having lived a long life constantly being chased in the underground that eventually evolved into a life killing man eaten giants, Levi found listening to the societal problems that plagued Paradis almost calming.

He had been dubbed ‘humanity’s strongest soldier’ and had been fighting man eating beasts and preventing the fall of humanity for a huge part of his life. Yet at present, most problems that made their way to Paradis were at least solvable by the average conscripted soldier or the average office worker. More than half the time, no one was actually in danger of dying. A significant improvement from the Paradis he grew up in.

Listening to the happenings on the radio, he was reminded of the joys of retirement. He indulged himself by listening to the last few parts of a radio drama and news on preparations for the fireworks festival that night.

The world is so peaceful. Levi had been daring enough to think that statement to himself.

“Breaking news!” It was as if the radio had sentience and read his mind, wanting to prove Levi wrong as if to say ‘the world will never be completely peaceful.’ “We just received word of a hostage situation in one of the warehouses in the Southern port.”

A wave of panic ended up running through him. It could have been from the tone of the reporter or Levi’s own instincts. Calm down. You’re not a soldier anymore. This isn’t your problem. It wasn’t at all new for Levi to react like that internally. He had an unnaturally strong sense of urgency having lived a life of danger for too long. He willfully brushed it off and attempted to focus instead on cutting the vegetables for the soup he was making for lunch.

“More information is coming in…”

Having spent most of his days alone in the house with nothing but a radio for a companion, Levi had mastered the art of multitasking, being able to pick up all the details of the radio article over the sound of the pots and pans, the sound of plates being stacked or the whistle of the kettle.

A gang car jacked one of the buses on the way out of the Southern port.

Gang holds hostage in the port fireworks which were slated to be sent to the capital for Paradis’ first ever New Years Celebration...

The fireworks were ordered more than a year ago…

Levi knew enough at least to understand what would have pushed people to steal them. Hange had mentioned it once during one of her rambles. She had been the one who had suggested they buy fireworks from Marley and celebrate New Years more than a year ago. It was apparently a highly anticipated festivity every year in Marley and having been so excited at the idea of celebrating it in Paradis, Hange went overboard with the organization. They had sent people to Marley to train with handling fireworks and had gone over multiple displays before deciding on one, which ended up being one of the more expensive options.

But it will be beautiful. Those words echoed once again in Levi’s head. He recalled seeing stars in her eyes as she said it.

Eventually Armin had taken over and with Hange’s hand out of the project, Levi had forgotten about it until he heard the details of the hostage situation over the radio. I wonder what Armin’s doing about it. A food for thought he reflected on while he prepared the ingredients for boiling.

“The police are assessing the situation as we speak.” Levi was aware they couldn’t give the exact details, the hostage takers could be listening in.

Another report came in a few seconds later. "The escaped hostages have confirmed the hostage takers do not have a radio on site. No chance of them listening in."

Levi found himself silently commending the escaped hostages for noting such a small detail. He hadn’t expected civilians to be that sharp especially in such a stressful situation.

“We escaped through the vents with one brave woman’s help but she had to stay behind.”

“How many are left inside the warehouse?”

“Just her.”

“Couldn’t she escape with you?”

“No sir. She doesn’t fit.”

“Doesn’t fit?"

“She looked like she was at least eight months pregnant.”

A pregnant woman in a hostage situation? Levi’s ears perked up at that. His thoughts flew to whoever that woman’s poor husband could have been. He had his own pregnant wife after all so he was quick to sympathize. Despite not believing in a god, he found himself sending prayers to that phantom husband. I hope someone at least informed him.

Levi kept his attention on the radio news as he mixed the ingredients and the spices for the soup.

“We have to get her out soon then.”

“She said she’d be fine. She even called the hostage takers amateurs.”

Levi was familiar with hostage situations though to know it was in their interest to keep their hostages alive. When taking the risk though, losing meant losing a life and Levi found himself sympathizing with whoever was left. Maybe I should call Armin? After I wake up Hange.

“But she could end up dead.”

“She said they wouldn’t.. On the off chance they did, she could defend herself.” Despite having just come out of a hostage situation and seeming concerned about a pregnant companion they had left behind, the woman talking on the radio seemed convinced that the pregnant woman could take care of herself.

How can an eight month pregnant woman defend herself though? Levi was starting to get a little more interested in the identity of the pregnant woman. There were two possibilities, she was a pregnant woman with a screw loose in her brain or she was an actual genius, Maybe he could ask Hange to ask Armin about it and they could learn a thing or two from her.

“She used to be in the military… And apparently had dealt with worse situations before."

So she was from the military? The military was a small community and Levi was sure he should know who it was. Was anyone pregnant though… Other than Hange?

Levi had racked his brain for a few seconds considering all the possibilities. Except one.

He did not know how many minutes he had spent considering the other possibilities before moving on to the exception. Yet that possibility was just outrageous. So outrageous that Levi had to ask Hange even if it meant waking her up from her nap.

Sorry for interrupting your sleep Hange, I just heard about an eight month pregnant woman who used to be part of the military and got taken hostage in a warehouse by the port. Just wanted to make sure it wasn’t you. Levi rehearsed his lines quickly as he made his way to the bedroom. It sounded ridiculous the second time he repeated it to himself. At that point though, it seemed worth it.

Levi’s heart started to beat faster as he entered the room, he could almost hear it. It could have been from the fear of waking up that lump on the other side of the bed or the fear of finding out it was just a pillow.

He never found out where that fear came from. It turned out the pillow was just a lump. Before Levi could even process his bodies’ reaction to the suspense and that harsh realization, his body went into survival mode. It came as a torrent of unintelligible emotions reminiscent of his fights against the beast titan and the invasion of Marley.

Just like it did then, his survival mode switched on and his instincts took over. Levi’s body was moving much faster than his brain. He called a taxi to take him to the port.

It was an option ten times more expensive than the shuttle but the price was the last thing on his mind.

Bite

The crowds on the port were large and Levi was disappointed to find out that many of the people there were uniformed policemen. He pushed his way through the crowd clutching one of the men in the front by their collar. “Why the hell are you not moving? You probably outnumber the hostage takers at this rate!”

“But sir… we don’t have orders. And there’s one more civilian inside.” The uniformed policeman who had answered Levi seemed a little too unsure and inexperienced that just listening to him made Levi miss his comrades in the survey corps all the more. That man looked like he had never fought in his life.

“Fuck this, I’m going in.”

“Sir are you sure? I think those men inside are armed with some very high end guns. We can never be too careful.”

Armed with what? Levi had been pitted against guns, thunder spears, man-eating giants and the king of all these founding titans. Despite the big ham the policeman was making those weapons out to be, Levi was not nervous at all.

He ran towards the building and in that few seconds vacillated between breaking through the window and bursting through the door. He had to act fast. Behind him, he could hear soldiers and policemen screaming at him to stay back and if he allowed himself a brief moment to stop and consider the situation, they might actually catch up.

Levi took a glance at one of the windows as he ran. The guns were on the table. Their guard was down. Levi found himself all the more disappointment at the policemen as he did. How the fuck is anybody not noticing that.

He crashed through the window where he had seen the guns on the table.

He never gave them time to pick up the guns. Even during that small moment Levi had allowed them as he took stock of the situation, they did not even attempt to dive for a weapon.

Levi and Hange did not have many things that could have served as a weapon in the house. Having only allowed himself a few seconds to get ready, Levi used the time to turn off the stove and cover the pot he had used to cook the soup. The only thing that he had managed to grab then was the vegetable knife that sat on the board he had used to cut vegetables that morning.

Levi though had worked with knives for years. He had also mastered the art of looking menacing even with the most mundane household objects as weapons. Even if he didn’t look menacing and the five hostage takers weren’t frozen on the spot, Levi was sure he still had enough agility left inside him to slit all their throats before they could shoot the gun. Preserving life had always been part of his principles though and he found himself giving the men the luxury to talk.

“Please! Don’t kill us!” One of the men begged as he fell to his knees. The others soon followed suit.

“You take hostages and you expect us not to attack?”

“We just needed money. Just give us money for the fireworks and we’ll be off your backs.” The first man who had kneeled explained. He looked to be their leader.

Levi kept his eye on the weapons on the table as he listened to the men. “This is a crime. I should be turning you in.” He had expected that to at least provoke the men. Alas, he had expected too much from them. All they did was kneel on the floor in defeat, their eyes downcast.

He approached the guns on the table and he could hear the men whimper as he did.

“The guns are broken,” one man said nervously. “We couldn’t get them to shoot.”

Of course you won’t get them to shoot. They need to be loaded first. Levi knew those guns too well. They were the guns Kenny and his police used after all. He had been at the end of that muzzle enough times to last a lifetime.

These hostage takers are amateurs. Levi had to admit, Hange probably would have been fine in this situation even if he didn’t show up.

“Where are your hostages?” Levi did not need to focus on the guns. Even if the men dove for them, Levi was sure they wouldn’t be able to shoot them.

Levi heard a kick behind him and one of the men nervously made his way beside Levi. “Over here… er sir.”

He was led to a dark room at the end of the hall. He kicked the door open, not bothering to wait for the man next to him to get the key.

The door opened to a room with many empty chairs lined up, one of them occupied by someone, someone Levi recognized almost instantly by the large belly and the fact that he had been seeing that face everyday for the past five years of his life.

Hange was there, sitting on a chair her hands tied behind her. As she looked up at them, Levi could see she had a face of overexaggerated terror for a while. For that split second, she was faking it. Levi had known her enough to know that. Within that second, it had twisted into something else, guilt and possibly actual terror.

“Levi… it’s nice to see you here,” She said. Levi had been with her enough to see that was the terror she exuded when she knew she had done something wrong.

“Why are you here? Aren’t you supposed to be at home?” Levi kept his voice cool, calm, feigning an expression of fake surprise. He was sure Hange would see through it. In fact, he wanted her to see through it.

“I would have been home by noon.”

“Answer the fucking question.”

Hange avoided his gaze. “The fireworks. I wanted to make sure they got to the capital safely.”

“You are an eight month pregnant woman on fucking leave. Why the fuck can’t you leave this to Armin.” He asked in the form of a statement. A statement he very much wanted her to reflect on.

“Armin and Mikasa are on a business trip to Marley. Besides, these are the expensive fireworks I ordered,” Hange explained. A shitty explanation which Levi refused to buy.

“The expensive fireworks Paradis ordered. We’re going home.” He approached Hange, ready to cut up the ropes behind her only to see there was nothing tying her to the chair. Of course. The others had gotten away. And the only person who could have helped them was Hange.

He noticed their means of escape in the form of a vent. It was closed yet, somehow Levi could tell it had been disturbed by its relative cleanliness when compared to the room that was covered in a layer of dust.

For a second, he had considered going out through there. The layer of dust and the large belly of Hange only made it a not too appealing option. “We’re going out through the front door and----”

And we’re leaving the rest to the police. They should be competent enough to arrest them at least. Levi would have wanted to say. That was until he heard the sound of gunshots.

Not the gunshots from the old military police guns. Those are the police guns.

“We surrender!”

The next thing he heard was an explosion then unfamiliar pops.

“The fireworks!” It was Hange who had answered that question of what that popping was. From seeing her crestfallen face, Levi was sure she had not intended to answer his question.

“We’re going out through the vent then.” He pulled Hange from her seat, making a silent apology to the baby inside her. “Can you hold your stomach in?” A dumb question to ask his pregnant wife but Levi was desperate.

It turned out though she didn’t need to squeeze her way through. The vent had been big enough for her to fit through without having to hold her stomach in.

And Hange should have known that. Hange wasn’t an idiot. In fact, Levi was sure she had better spatial reasoning skills than him, seeing as she had been in charge of the recent infrastructural developments over the years.

When he had carried her far away enough from the fire and the consequent blast, he had started to understand why she had been so adamant not to leave in the first place.

“The fireworks!” Hange was kneeling on the grass, a safe distance away from the blast and sobbing. “We paid so much for this Levi… This was supposed to be our first New Years celebration…” The intelligible words devolved into babble and Levi wondered whether that kind of emotional stress would be good for the baby.

At least, the hostage takers had gotten out safely. Levi thought, a desperate attempt to see light in the situation.

Bite

“So let me get this straight. You stayed behind on purpose?” It had been a good few hours since the incident and it still took Levi some effort to talk to her calmly. Levi understood at least that he had a duty not to cause her any more stress especially right after what had happened.

She had shut herself in the room for a good hour or so as soon as they had gotten back. Levi had made sure to check on her a few times since then since she was almost as quiet as that pillow that had pretended to be Hange that morning. By evening, her face was still red and her eyes swollen.

To Levi’s relief, she had replied, a significant improvement from her catatonic state. “We were looking forward to some grand festivities and those fireworks were expensive.…” Hange mentioned the cost of the fireworks and Levi was sure that amount was the fund of the survey corps for one year.

With the price of the fireworks, he was somehow starting to sympathize at least. “You sure we don’t need to go to the hospital?” He asked, his voice a little gentler.

“No, it’s okay I’m fine.”

Levi did believe her. She had little to no scratches on her and she was still walking normally at least. It was her almost catatonic state which troubled him. He could give that until the next day. “We still have next year for fireworks,” he said, an attempt to comfort her.

A moment later, he started to hear the familiar popping. “Is that fireworks? I thought they got destroyed?”

“Yeah, those are the normal fireworks. The ones I wanted to see were the expensive ones I ordered last year.”

So we had fireworks already? Levi found himself moving to the kitchen mechanically, with the one goal of making himself a cup of tea. If he allowed himself any emotion then, he probably could have strangled Hange at that moment. “If you wanna see the fireworks, you can go down.” Just another precaution, he set for himself so at least he was a safe distance from her

The kitchen was near the window and although they were in one of the upper floors, he should be able to hear Hange’s footsteps as long as the windows were open and he concentrated enough.

The tea was calming and it kept him more alert to Hange’s footsteps. Just in case she did something else stupid. He wasn’t at all feeling trusting that particular night.

He had expected to hear footsteps, leather on wood or cement. For a few minutes, that was what he was hearing.

A few minutes later, he heard something he hadn’t expected to hear at all. In fact it was something he probably wouldn’t have had to listen closely to hear.

A loud squeak then a surprised scream from Hange.

Bite

The last place Levi would have expected to spend New Years was in the hospital.

He had expected Hange to have done things during her pregnancy which would have ended up with a hospital visit. Never in his life would he have thought that it would have been from a rat bite and it would have been eight months into her pregnancy during New Years day.

“I tried to sit on the dumpster because it had the best view and there was a rat there...” Hange explained to the doctor from her bed in the emergency room.

Levi had stayed silent as Hange went into detail. He tried to tune it out himself, knowing ‘bitten by a rat’ was all he needed to hear for his whole body to shudder. Being drenched in titan’s blood seemed like a better alternative.

“I recommend you stay overnight. We’re uhh… going to have to talk to some doctors in Marley about this. I don’t think we’ve ever had a case of a woman getting bitten by a rat in her third term. We’ll have the nurse set you up with a room.” With that, the doctor left and it was just Hange and Levi together in that little corner of the emergency room.

Hange lay back on the hospital bed, her belly making a giant hill on top of her. It was so unnaturally large that Levi realized he wouldn’t be too surprised if the baby came out at any moment.

“You know Levi, I think he enjoyed today. He was kicking my belly back in the warehouse,” Hange quipped playfully as she rubbed her belly. Levi noted that the line that connected to Hange’s hand must have been some sort of painkiller or sleep drought. Hange’s smiling face was a brief respite from her crying face that afternoon, even if it was medicine-induced.

“Or maybe he thought you were a complete idiot.”

“You know… When I heard the window crash, the baby kicked harder… I think he knew daddy was coming to save us.”

“Or maybe he knew mommy didn’t need saving after all.” Levi returned her playful smile with a glare.

“Hey, you had fun. It was just like the old days...”

Fun? Levi wouldn’t have used that word at all. Getting shot at and being almost eaten on a regular basis wasn’t fun. Not knowing when you would die wasn’t fun. As Hange had mentioned the word ‘old days,’ Levi did start to realize he had been a little disappointed to see the men hadn’t shot at him.

He put a hand to his forehead. “Do I actually miss fighting?” He pressed harder into his forehead as if that action was enough to push some sanity back into his brain. No one should be missing a war. “Hey Hange, do you miss it?” He wanted to search for some assurance at least that he wasn’t the only one slightly insane.

He looked back at Hange to see the latter had dozed off, her face fixed into a warm comfortable smile, her hand resting on her belly.

He didn’t know how long he had been staring. It could have been minutes or hours. His trance though had been broken by one greeting of “Happy New Year!” then a few soft cheers and some light clapping. Levi wasn’t too worried that Hange would wake up. She looked to be in a deep sleep.

Levi put his hand on hers, and even with one hand beneath his and the belly, he still felt it, a light small kick. He’s coming out soon.

He leaned close to her ear, taking in the rare sounds of her relaxed breathing before he whispered his own greeting. “Happy New Year… Next year we’ll see the fireworks together, all three of us.”

It was a promise only he would have remembered. But it was a promise he vowed to keep.

#levihan #levi ackerman #hange zoe #levi x hange #fanfic

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rhysismydaddy · 4 years

Text

After Midnight pt. 1 (Feysand)

Synopsis: After a tumultuous, heartbreaking relationship, Feyre Archeron turns to online dating for a break from normalcy. Or rather, to Velaris Nighttime Ventures, the most exclusive, high-dollar escort system around. She needs to ease back in to intimacy, so this seems like the perfect idea. But what happens when her escort turns out to be someone she can’t get out of her head? Someone who seems to understand and appreciate everything about her?

My many disclaimers: Stole a line in here from The Hating Game. And one from ACOTAR obviously. And the story line is loosely based off of The Kiss Quotient. Basically, I’m a fraud.

__________________________________________________________

~Feyre~

If I told any of my friends I’m about to hire a hooker, they’d laugh themselves silly.

And, to be honest, the idea is a little ridiculous to me, too.

I’ve never had a problem getting a date in my life. Brownish blondeish hair, blue-gray eyes, and an athletic build give me slightly above average looks. A lucrative job makes me financially sound and independent. A lifetime with two sisters gave me a sense of humor.

I’ve dated prom kings, nerds, and everything in between. I’m completely normal.

Or at least I used to be.

After everything that happened last year, I don’t know if that’s true anymore.

My therapist tells me constantly it’s okay that my last relationship changed me. And the multiple degrees on her pretty green wall tell me she knows what she’s talking about and that she’s completely correct.

Even if... even if it doesn’t feel okay.

Even if I can hardly stand looking in a mirror or being hugged or someone giving me a compliment.

Even if I haven’t felt like myself in so long, I don’t even know if I’d recognize it if i did.

Because while I used to love putting makeup on, choosing a dress, and going out, the thought now fills me with so much dread it makes me nauseous.

What if I just make the same mistake as last time?

My sister's told me my whole life to guard my heart, but I always laughed it off and said she was being cynical. And what do I have to prove it? Trust issues and a standing appointment Dr. Motley.

Men don’t deserve my trust. At least not right now.

But... it’s time to move on in the physical sense.

And since running the risk of taking home the wrong man scares me shitless, I’ll start with someone who can’t reject me, can’t make me feel worthless.

Someone who won’t develop feelings for me or get attached and demanding. Someone... who won’t mind giving me control.

A hooker.

Or escort, like the Velaris Nighttime Ventures website says as I scroll through pages and pages of profiles.

Gods, this is more stressful than my first gallery opening.

All the profiles include is a picture, probably-fake name, height, an age, and a simple sentence about them.

It feels creepily similar to online shopping. And there are so, so many options. How the heck am I going to choose one?

Scrolling down further, my eyes roam over men of every skin tone, age, and height. I don’t have any real preference, but decide I need to have a few ground rules, otherwise this will take forever.

Age? I’m twenty-seven and don’t have an interest in being a cougar, so I set the range from twenty-eight to thirty-five.

Height? At 5′6, I’m not exactly tall, but I’ve always found men who were more attractive, so I shrug and put the minimum at six feet.

Pressing enter, I watch the website sort, then look at the number of men left. Thirty. Not bad.

Scrolling through slowly, I realize it’s kind of like a yearbook for an all male college or something.

A college full of really sexy men.

I pause on a few, but something about them make her keep going. I want the complete opposite of my ex, so any with features like him get eliminated.

Eventually, I get to the last row, feeling a little dejected.

But then I see him.

His eyes seemed to pierce through the screen, and once I see him, I can’t look away. Without another thought, I click on the profile.

The name under the picture reads Rhysand. No last name, probably for privacy purposes. He’s a few years older than me. And tall--6′3 tall. But that isn’t what draws me closer. It’s the sentence he’d written.

To the stars that listened -- and the dreams that are answered.

My fingers ignore the rational part of my brain and click the button to book an appointment, and before I know it, I’m looking at a confirmation page.

For tonight at midnight.

Oh gods.

~Rhysand~

After working at the bar for a few hours, I head back to my shitty apartment to get ready for tonight’s appointment.

Someone has booked me for an “evening of adventure and pleasure” as the confirmation email tells me.

Wonderful.

All I know is her name: Feyre. It doesn’t sound like an old-lady name, so there’s that.

Those are the worst. It feels like fucking someone’s grandmother. Not that I’d know, exactly. And I mean sure, most of my clients are older. But there’s older, and then there’s old. Fine line between the two, let me tell you.

Most of the people who hire me are in their forties, trapped in miserable marriages, and desperate for a decent lay. They’re also filthy rich, because I’m not cheap in the slightest.

It’s why I’d agreed to this shit in the first place.

Yeah, I have to psych myself up and sleep with a random lady, but the pay is killer. And the more money I make, the quicker I can stop.

So I shower and go through my pre-appointment routine, trying not to think about what’s become of my life.

There weren’t any special requests on the appointment, but the meet was set for a swanky hotel downtown, so I put on a dark suit and white dress shirt. My hair doesn’t need much work, so I leave, figuring I’ll get there early.

The drive over’s quick, and soon I’m walking inside and sitting at the bar. She has my picture, but I don’t have a clue what she looks like, so she’ll have to come find me.

After a few minutes, someone settles next to me, and I turn around with an expectant smile.

But when I see who it is, I stop. And hating myself more than I thought possible, I tell the woman, “Sorry, I’m waiting for someone.”

Which really fucking sucks, because she’s beautiful as hell.

Smooth skin, dark blonde hair, blue eyes, and kiss-me lips kind of beautiful.

She gives me a strange look, then says words I’d never expect from someone like her. “I’m Feyre. I’m the... client.”

The way she cringes on the word tells me it’s her first time doing something like this, and the thought makes me a little too happy.

I know I should say something to comfort her, but all I can think is... she’s definitely no grandma.

~Feyre~

He keeps staring at me for a few more moments, then smiles and says, “Sorry. You’re not what I was expecting.”

I nod, then realize I have no idea what to say. Or do. Fuck, this is weird. “Do you want a drink?”

Rhysand shakes his head, then says, “Feel free, though.”

That’s the first good idea I’ve heard all day. After ordering from the bartender, I turn to the man next to me and smile sheepishly. “I don’t really know how this works. It’s my first time with... this.”

“I figured.” He’s turned toward me, one arm braced on the bar. “You can have your drink, and we’ll go upstairs when you’re ready.”

A nervous laugh ebbs out of me, and I blush. “Okay.”

Gods, am I really going through with this?

I mean sure, he’s hotter than all hell, but he’s a prostitute.

Would you rather invite a random man home with you? the bitch that lives in my brain asks with a knowing smile.

I ignore her as a drink’s set in front of me, finding it helps a little. The man next to me just watches, face a mixture of confusion and amusement.

Somehow, the photo didn’t do him justice. He’s ridiculously attractive, with dark hair, almost violet eyes, and tan skin. There’s a hint of stubble on his strong jaw, surrounding the sensual mouth that’s currently smirking at me.

I’m definitely attracted to him, but this is still weird.

“So, why are you doing this?” he asks as I drink. “If you don’t mind.”

I’m sure as hell not telling him the truth, so I say, "I’ll tell you my story if you tell me yours.”

Rhysand smiles, and it only makes him more attractive. “Fair point.”

Then he looks me up and down, raises his dark brows, and asks, “Ready?”

Not in the fucking slightest. “Sure.”

By the time we reach the elevator, I’m practically shaking. Telling myself that I can do this--that it’s what I want, for gods sake--doesn’t really help. But I don’t say a word as we glide up, then walk to the room I’ve rented for tonight.

When we get inside, I avoid looking at the bed as I turn to him.

Rhysand smoothly takes off his suit jacket, then leans against the wall and crosses his ankles. “You seem nervous.”

He certainly doesn’t. Every move he makes is smooth and easy, like he’s so comfortable in his body he doesn’t ever get nervous or self-conscious.

Must be nice.

“I do?” It’s a deflection, and we both know it.

“You’re shaking like a wet dog.” My nose wrinkles at the analogy, and he grins. “A very cute wet dog.”

I told myself I’d be alright, but now that I’m alone with him, I realize I’ve told absolutely no one where I am tonight. And if things go wrong... I start pacing. “I’m, uh... it’s just... nothing. Let’s do this thing.”

I should write sonnets.

His lips twitch, but he doesn’t say a word as he walks to sit on the edge of the bed. Feeling like the biggest idiot in the world, I sit next to him.

“Why don’t we just take things slow?”

Thank the gods. I nod.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, using manners I definitely hadn’t expected but much appreciate.

I nod again, trying to keep my hands from shaking.

Rhysand raises a hand, but I swallow and push down the flare of panic as he cups my jaw and tilts my face to his. Then he leans in--keeping his word and going very slowly--and I brace myself as his lips brush against mine.

My body doesn’t exactly know how to feel when they touch. On the one hand, a very handsome man is kissing me. On the other... a man is kissing me.

I ignore the second thought and kiss him back.

His lips are silky soft against mine, slowly urging them open, and then his tongue is in my mouth, caressing mine. Everything’s slow and sensual and practiced.

And even though it’s a picture-perfect moment, it feels like that scene in the movie where the dumb blonde goes down the dark hallway while the entire theater screams at her to run.

Oh gods oh gods oh gods.

My brain’s playing me a repeat of the last year on fast forward, and I press my eyes closed to try and block it out.

I’m fine.

Rhysand leans into me, and then I’m on my back with him hovering above me, still kissing me. His surprisingly muscled frame is heavy against me, pressing me down into the soft sheets, and his elbows are by my head.

Nothing’s wrong.

Everything’s wrong.

I take a quick moment to remind myself that if this had happened a year ago, I’d probably have wrapped myself around him and let him do whatever he wanted.

But the past twelve months weren’t just a bad dream. And the band-aid protecting the stupid, naive girl I used to be from the harsh realities of the world has been ripped off and torn to bits.

And suddenly, I can’t breathe.

His head snaps up immediately, and violet eyes gaze down at me, full of concern. A weak hand comes up to press against his chest, and he sits up immediately. “Feyre? Are you okay?”

I shake my head and practically roll off the bed onto the floor. It’s completely undignified, but I don’t care. My lungs are on fire, my throat tight with the tears I’m barely holding back.

I have to get away from him; I have to get some space.

My back hits the wall, and I curl into myself, pressing my forehead against my knees.

Breathe, Feyre, breathe.

The silence in the room is broken only by my gasps, and I focus on the sound, letting it remind me that I’m here, that I made it out.

I don’t let myself think about the other person in the room. It’s just me, and I’m fine. I made it out.

There’s scratchy carpet under my legs, a wall behind my back, and more than enough air in the room.

Eventually, my brain catches up with the obvious, allowing oxygen to fill my chest. I’m gulping down breath after breath until my heart rate finally starts slowing down, and it’s only when my head stops feeling fuzzy do I open my eyes.

Rhysand sits on the bed, beautiful eyes wide, watching me.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. Gods, he’s probably uncomfortable beyond belief. “I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s not your fault,” I say, cutting him off and shaking my head. I know I should get off the floor, but my legs feel like jello, and I don’t want to crawl around again. “I, um...”

The words to explain the panic don’t come easy, but he stays silent, giving me time.

And because I’m a coward who still can’t admit what happened to me, I repeat the words my therapist suggested I try.

“I have problems with intimacy.” It’s hardly a whisper, but I know he hears it. “And, um... I thought it would be easier with someone like you.” I flinch at my own words and try to make it sound less offensive. “I didn’t mean-”

“It’s okay, Feyre. I understand.”

Tears burn the edges of my eyes, but I force them down and steady my voice. “You can go. There’s money on the desk.”

He shakes his head. “I’m not leaving you like this. Unless I’m the reason.”

“No, it’s not you,” I assure him. “You’re great. I just have a hard time relaxing with- I mean around-”

“Men,” he finishes quietly.

And even though I didn’t tell him, he looks like he can read the words off my face. Rhysand doesn’t say another word, but his eyes are understanding and calm.

He extends a hand, the silent invitation clear, and for some reason, it makes me smile as I slowly get to my feet, using the wall to support me.

Walking over, he takes my hand in is, and I notice how rough his palms are. Before I can wonder what he does to get such big callouses, he takes my other hand and places them on his shoulders.

“You’re in control. There are no expectations with me.” The words wash over me, settling in, and my heart slows down a bit. “If you want to kiss and call it a night, we can. It’s up to you.”

For some reason, hearing that he doesn’t care helps. It’s the reason why I chose this, I guess. I’m the client, and I’m in control.

Finally feeling calm, I slowly run my hands over his shoulders, down his arms. He’s heavily muscled, but it’s smooth and lean, not bulky. From a physical life, not from hours spent in a gym.

I can see the faint lines of tattoos beneath the shirt, but I don’t move to unbutton it.

His eyes stay on me, and I meet them as my hands drift to his face. The stubble I’d noticed earlier is rough against my fingers as I trace his jaw, then the strong slope of his eyebrows.

It’s been a year since I touched a man. Longer since I did so this... leisurely.

My hands find their way into his dark hair, and I smile at how soft it is. His head tilts back a little and his eyes drift close. I don’t know if he’s putting on a show or actually enjoying this, but he seems calm at least.

And I think... I think this could work.

Working on my intimacy issues with him could help fix me, maybe even get me ready for a real relationship.

So I lean in slowly and press my mouth to his.

Like he said, I’m in control. While earlier had felt like being kissed, this feels like kissing. I move my mouth slowly over his, tracing the curve of his lower lip softly.

He really is a beautiful man.

And patient, too. He’s extremely patient while I take my time learning the shape of his mouth, then the angle of his jaw. He stays still, eyes closed, letting me explore.

I slowly drift back to his mouth, and when he eases his lips open, I meet his tongue with mine. It’s slow and light and just enough to make me want more.

My breath comes shorter, but it isn’t in panic.

Taking his hands from the bed beside him, I place them on my hips. His fingers flex, but they stay exactly where I put them, even as I wrap my arms around his neck and press a little closer to him.

We’re still just kissing, but I feel it in my entire body, all the way to my toes.

I pull back and take a deep breath, not knowing how to put what I want into words without embarrassing myself. Bright violet eyes meet mine as Rhysand runs his tongue across his lower lip. “Just say it.”

How can he read my face so well after just an hour of knowing me?

“Lean back,” I say, my face warm with a blush. “But don’t turn us over. I can’t... I feel trapped.”

Rhysand just nods, gripping my hips tighter, then lays down with me on top of him. My chest is against his, my legs resting in between his. It’s the closest I’ve been to someone in a long time, and I wait for the panic to set in, but none comes.

“You okay?”

A small part of me wishes he wouldn’t be so damn understanding and nice. It’s making me feel so incredibly stupid, even as it warms my heart.

I nod, then put my head down against his chest. “I’m so embarrassed.”

“Why?”

Looking back up, I meet his eyes hesitantly. “You’re probably so weirded out by me. Paying you just to come make out like teenagers.”

He smiles, and it makes some of the nerves untangle. “Silly woman. I could kiss you all night. You have the most delicious mouth.” He leans in and kisses me, as if to prove it, then makes a deep humming sound.

“That’s absurd,” I mutter, even though I feel a lot less anxious now.

Rhysand shakes his head, then says, “You taste like fucking candy.” His arms loosely wrap around my waist. “Tilt your head to the side and I’ll prove it.”

I do, and his mouth meets my neck, slowly but in a way that makes it feel like I’m being devoured. Tingles shoot down my body as he sweeps my hair off my neck to get better access, and a soft moan escapes me as he sucks on the spot between my shoulder and neck.

He pulls away enough to say, “You have a really sexy moan, too.”

My face goes scarlet, and he grins up at me, then we’re kissing again. Gods, the man can kiss. He’s letting me control everything, but it’s obvious he’s good at what he does.

Even though I’m almost delirious with lust--something I haven’t felt in a long, long time--I know this is enough for tonight. I’ve already had one panic attack, and I don’t want to push myself too hard.

So I pull back and tell him, “You can go. I don’t think... this is good for tonight, I think.”

“I feel like you’re not getting your money’s worth if I leave now,” he says, and if I could’ve sworn I hear a hint of sadness in his tone.

I shrug, not telling him the money for tonight was nothing to worry about. Instead, I just slide off him and stand up, straightening my shirt. “It’s was more than okay. Seriously. Thank you for being so understanding.”

Rhysand rises fluidly and grabs his jacket, then turns to me. Before he can speak, I say, “I actually wanted to talk to you about another appointment.”

After an awkward pause, he says quietly, “I don’t really do... repeats.”

“Oh.” There’s no way to hide the disappointment in my voice.

I’d thought that I’d be able to work with him slowly. Build on what we did tonight. The thought of having to find a different man and explain why I’m so emotionally stunted... shit.

What if I freak out again, in front of someone new?

Gods, no wonder he doesn’t want to come back. He’s already had to deal with an hour of my trauma. Who would ever sign up to do it again? I’m damaged goods.

“It’s not you, I promise. I’ve just had a few clients get sort of... attached. So I made a policy to not meet with women more than once.” He sounds nice and apologetic, and it grates my nerves a little.

Rejection is rejection no matter how you look at it.

And no matter how fucked up I am, I don’t need anyone’s pity.

But, like a big girl, I smile and nod. “I get it. It’s fine. I’ll find someone else. Your money is on the table.”

“Wait, wait, wait. Find someone else? What do you mean?”

My eyebrows fly up at how shocked he sounds. He just saw firsthand how not okay I am, and he’s surprised?

“I mean that I’ll find someone else. I have intimacy issues, and I need to work on them. I understand completely that you’re uncomfortable with that, and I’ll find someone who isn’t.”

There’s a flicker in his jaw. “And you’re planning on using the website for this someone?”

“It’s really none of your concern.”

“Feyre, there are some not so great people on there. You shouldn’t use-”

My patience snaps. “You have absolutely no right to lecture me. You don’t want the job, I will find someone else, since it’s such a goddamn burden. Now thank you very much for tonight, but you’re community service is done. You can go.”

There are too many emotions on his face to process them all, but I definitely register shock.

“I promise it isn’t about you, okay? You’re great. Hell, I’d want to sleep with you even if I wasn’t getting paid. But I have a policy, and-”

“Like I said, I understand. You can go now.”

He runs a hand through his hair. “Don’t use the site to find another guy.”

There’s something about the command in his voice that grabs every last thread I’m hanging by and rips them free. I march over to him and jab a finger into his chest. “Do not tell me what to do. Ever.”

Rhysand eyes narrow, but it isn’t in anger. It’s like he’s looking at a puzzle, and he just figured out the piece he’d thought would fit won’t. “Okay.”

“Okay.”

I remove the finger-gun from his chest, but he doesn’t make any move to leave. Instead, he catches me completely off guard by saying, “I’ll do four more appointments.”

Rolling my eyes comes a little to easy. “Don’t do me any favors. I’m not your goddamn charity case.”

“No, because if you were, you’d probably be a little grateful.” Whatever retort I had planned dies in my throat. “But it’s not pity. I don’t want you getting hurt by some other guy from the site.”

There’s enough genuine concern in his voice for me to believe him. And the last thing I want is to put myself in danger.

But I still ask if he’s serious, because to be honest, it sounds perfect.

If I can fix myself in six appointments.

That’s a pretty big if.

“Yes, seriously. But I’m going to charge you more, and we can only meet here.”

I shrug because I sure as hell wasn’t about to invite him to my place. And unless he’s planning on charging enough to buy a house, it should be fine. “Okay.”

He glances at me, then down at himself, like he’s suddenly aware he’s still standing here. “Okay.”

And just like that, I’ve hired a hooker.

____________________________________________________

Part 2 is here because I have no self-control. Let me know in the comments/my box if you want to be tagged :)

@trinitybailey2003 @zukos-simp @cursebreaker29 @sjmships @starrynightsbooks @lovemollywho @januarystears @perseusannabeth @a-bit-of-a-cactus @elriel4life @girl-who-reads-the-books @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @rowanisahunk @superspiritfestival @studyliketate @over300books @justgiu12 @maastrash @aesthetics-11 @bamchickawowow @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @savemesoon8 @hizqueen4life @maybekindasortaace

#feysand #feyre archeron #feyre #rhysand #feyre x rhys #rhys #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acotar fanfiction #a court of mist and fury #a court of thorns and roses #a court of wings and ruin #a court of frost and starlight

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asthmark · 4 years

Text

❝ let’s dance ❞ s.jh

synopsis → “i’m gonna marry you.”

request → “How about Johnny fluff partying time and the concept theme is the 80s” — @heart-bleeding-autism-angel

word count → 2.5k

a/n → the amount of googling i did for this is scary .. and i still know literally nothing abt the 80’s LOL anyway the title is my fav david bowie song that happened to be released in ‘83 and it kind of fits the the fic so,,, cool :-)

the moonlight shines through your window, casting it’s heavenly glow on your face. despite the late hour, it illuminates your entire room enough that you can read the time off the clock hanging on your wall.

11:55 p.m.

if they decide to be on time, your friends should be arriving in five minutes.

you retreat from your windowsill to prepare yourself. you stop in front of your closet, staring at the array of clothing. it takes you a couple moments to pick something you liked. you, of course, wanted to impress johnny, the self proclaimed fashion evaluator, but there was no better feeling than knowing you looked good.

you settle on a cozy turtleneck and your favorite mini skirt. then you pull on a pair of tube socks and slip on your prized white sneakers. for the final touch, you slide on a thin buckle belt through the loops of your skirt to tie it all together.

you smile satisfactorily at your reflection in the mirror and what was sure to be your best outfit yet. besides being well-put together, it felt comfortable enough to move around in and you knew you would surely be doing much moving that night.

once the clock strikes midnight, you notice light flash into your room. since it’s brighter than that of the moon, you know exactly who must be behind it. even if you didn’t, the hushed chatter and giggling from outside your window gives it away. you peer down into your backyard to find sicheng and jaehyun standing there, flashlights in hand and aimed directly into your bedroom.

you hastily wave your hands at them, your face twisted with worry. they wave back at you with goofy smiles on their faces, oblivious to your concern.

“cut the lights!” you hiss as silently as you can.

they finally seem to get the hint and click them off. jaehyun shouts back, “sorry!” accompanied by a laugh sicheng has failed to contain. you wince at their volume. there was no keeping them quiet so you decide your only option is to move as fast as you possibly can.

you carefully push one leg out of your window. it dangles above the roof of the front porch and you slowly lower it onto the tile. once you’ve successfully planted half of yourself on the roof, you bring your other leg down. this action is followed by a slight creek but you don’t even bother hesitating. you crouch down to the edge of the house and repeat the previous steps, this time landing on the front steps of your porch.

“that was smooth!” jaehyun exclaims in awe.

you bring a finger to your lips but still can’t help but smile at the praise.

“you’re like a ninja,” adds sicheng. “or a cat.” he pauses, deep in thought, before concluding, “you’re a ninja cat.”

you raise a brow. “you’ve both been drinking, haven't you?”

“no.”

“yes.”

“i’m gonna have to believe jae on this one,” you say, observing the way sicheng’s eyelids droop and he slurs his words. “you couldn’t have waited ‘til we got to the club?”

he whines like a child. “i was thirsty!”

you clamp your hand over his mouth and scold him. “why do you feel the need to be so loud? do you want me to get caught?”

jaehyun hiccups. “aren’t you glad i’m an introvert? i’ll never get you in trouble.”

you laugh dryly. “sure, you’re all introverted until you find some random chick to grind on.”

he pouts. “let me have fun.”

“it’s fun until you spill your drink on her and i have to help clean—oh come on, sicheng, did you just lick me?” you remove your hand from his mouth only to find a big smile on his lips.

“perhaps.”

“god, let’s just go. where’s johnny parked?”

“end of the street.”

you go in said direction with your two friends trailing behind you, messing around all the while. the three of you only stop when you catch sight of johnny’s shiny black convertible. you approach the vehicle and when he notices you, he smiles and shoots you a wink.

“you’re such a flirt,” you comment, opening the door to the passenger's seat.

he shrugs. “but you still fell in love with me so i’d say it’s worked out pretty well up until this point.”

you’re about to respond when jaehyun interrupts. “hey, i wanted to ride shotgun!”

“me too!” agrees sicheng. “y/n always gets it!”

johnny glares at the pair through the rear view mirror. “and that’s how i like it so get in the backseat or you’re walking.”

they mumble what you assume are complaints yet still get in the car.

johnny revs up the engine but before you go anywhere he makes an announcement. “and if either of you are going to vomit again, all i ask is that you don’t do it in here. my dad just bought me this bad boy.”

a chuckle escapes your lips.

“what are you laughing about over there?”

you lean back against the headrest, smile still present. “we literally have two kids.”

“basically. but hey, there’s no one else i’d rather babysit two grown men with than you.”

“stop, i’m blushing,” you deadpan.

johnny’s shoulders shake with laughter at your sarcasm. “seriously, though! you really know how to take care of someone. one day, if i’m lucky enough, i’ll be able to see that up close.”

you know exactly what he means by that last statement—he was thinking of a future with you. the last thing you want to do is burst his bubble but you knew how your parents felt about your relationship. they thought you could do better than ‘some football player from your school’. they had friends with young, stuck up sons who, according to them, were more fit for you. despite being told countless times how happy johnny made you, they paid you no mind.

you nod, sincerely. “i hope so.”

he places his hand on your thigh, rubbing reassuring circles into your skin. you stay like that for the entire drive.

once you finally reach your destination, you leave all doubt and anxiety surrounding your relationship with johnny in the car along with any other negativity. the flashing lights and loud music you could hear even from outside the club excites you and you’re left with no choice but to discard all of your worries. you never got tired of seeing the glowing, neon sign letting you know that you had arrived at the hottest hang out spot there was—the neo zone.

as soon as you step inside, sicheng’s face contorts in displeasure. “i’m, uh, going to the bathroom.” he carelessly pushes past strangers, clutching his stomach.

you notice jaehyun has disappeared as well. before you can ask, you spot him on the dance floor, inserting himself in some line dance he obviously isn’t familiar with. his limbs move awkwardly and completely out of sync with the rest of the group. he recieves multiple strange looks and you can’t help but cringe.

“where did we go wrong with them?”

johnny’s laugh can hardly be heard over the booming bass of a song. “couldn’t tell you that, sugar. let’s just hope the next ones come out better.”

there he goes again, talking about your oh-so-promising future. you were still unsure if you would be able to grant johnny the picture perfect life he constantly spoke about. whenever he referenced it, you felt slightly guilty.

instead of acknowledging his comment, you glance around, looking anywhere but him. “want to get a drink?”

he simply nods, placing his hand in the small of your back as you weave your way through the crowd to the bar.

he leans on the counter and orders, “one long island iced tea, please.”

“you know my order?” you ask, pleasantly surprised.

“sweetheart, you get it everytime we come here. and that’s often.”

you still beam at him. “it’s still nice. you know, that you notice those things.”

“everything about you is worth noticing. besides, what kind of boyfriend would i be if i didn’t?”

you press a quick kiss to his cheek to show him how grateful you are.

“you really have to work on your aim because you completely missed your target that time.” he teasingly taps his lips.

you roll your eyes with a giggle. “never satisfied, are you, suh?”

“you owe me, just sayin’.”

“oh yeah?”

“totally! i let you sit shotgun!”

“i was the only thing standing in the way of sicheng throwing up all over your dashboard, you should be thanking me!”

johnny presses a kiss to your lips. it’s so unexpected yet enjoyable that you can’t stop your eyes from fluttering shut in bliss. he only pulls away to take a breath of air.

he licks his lips. “how was that?”

you brush imaginary dust off your skirt. “probably the best ‘thank you’ i’ve ever received.”

“says you. i can't get enough of those lips of yours.”

you fiddle with your belt. “nobody's stopping you from getting your fill.”

“you’re going to be the death of me, young lady.”

seconds later, the bartender slides you your drink. “here’s your drink, young lady.” he gives johnny a knowing smile and not-so-subtle thumbs up. “what a pretty little thing you got there.”

you know his words aren’t meant for your ears so you avert your eyes and take small sips of your drink.

“thank you, sir. i couldn’t agree more.”

“you know, me and my wife met in this club. just like you two.”

“we’ve actually known each other for a couple years.”

the man’s eyes widen in surprise. “well, look at you. already ahead of the game. you love her?”

johnny doesn’t hesitate to nod. “very much. the only issue is her folks don’t seem to be too crazy about me. they have a long list of suitors, myself excluded.”

you frown and trace the rim of your glass. that never got any easier for you to hear.

the man nods, understandingly. “i see. well, in that case, you might have to wait. you said you love her and until you get to be together—which you will—keep loving her. that’ll make the time you spend waiting go by like this.” he snaps his fingers to prove his point.

johnny nods, a genuine smile appearing on his face. “i appreciate the advice. thank you.”

the bartender gives him a curt nod and goes back to tending to the other demanding customers.

before johnny gets a chance to say anything, you ask, “do you wanna dance with me?”

his grin widens. “always.”

you take his hand in yours and lead him to the dance floor. it’s full, as always, multiple bodies pressed up against each other. you waste no time joining in.

your hands end up on his broad shoulders, fingers toying with the hair on the nape of his neck and his grip ends up on your hips. the songs played at club neo zone always had a strong bass and energetic vibe so you both match that rhythm, moving to the intense heartbeat of the music. you gaze up at johnny, admiring his good looks even under the glow of the disco lights that colored him shades of bright pink, blue and green.

“what are you looking at, pretty girl?”

“just your face. i like it.”

he hums. “mm, i’m glad. i do too.”

“like my face?”

“no, mine.”

you shove his shoulder, playfully.

he chuckles. “you know i’m joking. you’re the most beautiful thing i’ve ever seen.”

you suddenly find your shoes to be very interesting and stare down at them, smiling sheepishly.

“c’mon, don’t get all shy on me now.”

you giggle. “quit it.”

he glides his hands up and down your sides. “i’m serious, darling. it must’ve taken all my luck to get you.”

“i could say the same thing. there’s no one i’d rather be with than you, john.”

his dimples appear at the compliment and he goes in for a bear-like hug. he cradles your shoulders and rests his chin on top of your head as both you sway.

“i’m gonna marry you.”

you’re not sure what about this statement catches you most off guard. maybe it’s the way that there’s no teasing tone in his voice or perhaps the fact that he has decided to say this in the middle of the dance floor, of all places.

you catch your lower lip in between your teeth. “i’m sorry we have to wait.”

“i’ll wait forever, babygirl, if that’s what it takes. and so what if your parents don’t want that. if one day you’ll let me wake up next to you and have a family with you, i’ll be happy.”

you feel butterflies fluttering in your stomach at his sweet words. “i can't wait.”

with the hope of a future together, you and johnny happily dance the rest of the night away. once the party dies down and the crowd shrinks with every song that passes, your bodies are left sweaty and tired. you agree it’s time to go home.

you spot jaehyun in the back of the club and it takes a lot of effort to drag him off his latest girl interest. he blows her kisses as you yank him away, promising her a phone call in the morning. you’re pretty sure he’s lying.

sicheng is found passed out in the restroom, snoring heavily.

“has he been here this whole time?” you ask with a grunt as you attempt to hoist him up.

johnny shrugs as he helps you lift. “i find it's better to not ask questions.”

you nod in agreement. “fair.”

the car ride is silent mostly thanks to sicheng being knocked out. jaehyun sits quietly as well, staring out the window. johnny decides to drop them off first. you stop in front of the jung residence. as you watch the brunette struggle to open the door with one hand and hold sicheng’s unconscious figure in the other, you can’t help but wonder, “is it really a good idea to leave him with jae? i mean, that’s like telling a toddler to look after an infant.”

“if i left him at his house i’m pretty sure his old man would ground him for the rest of his life. jae’s folks are always out of town.”

with that reassurance, you drive off, your next destination being your house. johnny parks exactly where he did at the beginning of the night, just to be safe.

he rests his hands on the steering wheel. “want me to walk you?”

you shake your head. “that’s alright. if i get caught, i’d rather it not be with you. i’d never hear the end of it.”

“yeah, i get it. one day, though, we won’t have to worry about it.” as if to promise you his words are true, he hands you his letterman jacket. it was his prized possession and he was never seen without it. “here, take this. wear it when i can't be with you.”

you nod, clutching the clothing item close to your chest. “i will.”

he leans over as far as his seatbelt allows him to give you the last kiss of the night. it ends too fast for the both of you. you exit his car and walk down the sidewalk towards your house.

johnny watches you through his rear view mirror and smiles to himself when he catches you pull on his jacket.

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darlingandmreames · 4 years

Text

No One Knows (Until Everyone Knows)

(also on ao3)

Ariadne got a couple of blocks away from the workshop before she reached for her phone and found an empty pocket instead. If it had been anything else- except maybe her keys, she needed those unless she wanted to sleep outside- she would’ve just kept going and grabbed them when she got in the next day. Not her phone though. That she needed.

The door was still unlocked when she tried the handle and the lights were on when she slipped back inside. Normally she would’ve assumed it was Cobb, he tended to stay late, but he’d headed out surprisingly early that day. Both Arthur and Eames had still been finishing up working when she’d left, though, so at least one of them must have still been in. It was a bit late for both of them, particularly Eames, but she’d long given up trying to figure out any of their schedules. If taking this job had taught her anything it was that people in the dream sharing field had the most incomprehensible sleep and work schedules of anyone she’d ever met.

“We should head out soon.”

“I heard you the first six times. Let me finish this first.” Ariadne could almost hear Arthur rolling his eyes. “Unlike you, I am actually doing work.”

She smiled, half listening to their conversation in the other room as she scanned the tables for her phone. Out of everyone it had taken her the longest to get used to working with the two of them. On their own they were both fine; they both had their oddities but were still nice enough, and Arthur in particular had been helpful and patient as Ariadne had tried to adjust to dream sharing and manipulating. The two of them together, though, was a very different story. They argued constantly and she'd thought at first that they didn't like each other, but she realized quickly enough that their bickering was more banter than actual arguing. They were an odd pair, but entertaining once she'd gotten more used to it.

"I was working but then you said you were almost ready to head out so I stopped working. You're the one holding us up."

"You realize you can just leave without me, right? You're under no obligation to wait if my desire to actually do my job is bothering you so much."

Ariadne could already see them in her mind. Arthur sitting at the table he'd staked out as his, papers spread around him, Eames leaning against the table next to him, grinning and arms crossed. It was a scene she'd seen plenty of times over the past couple of weeks, sometimes multiple times a day.

It was not the scene she found when she finally rounded the corner, however. Some pieces were the same- Arthur was indeed standing at his usual table, papers spread around him- but Eames wasn’t leaning against the table. He was standing behind Arthur, his arms wrapped around Arthur’s waist and chin resting on his shoulder as Arthur sifted through various papers. “And miss out on your delightful company?” He kissed Arthur’s cheek. “Never.”

She watched, surprised, as Arthur laughed quietly. “Thought I was difficult and annoying?”

“You are. Very annoying. Especially when you’re keeping me from heading back to the hotel.”

Ariadne backed up around the corner and back out of view quietly, feeling awkward. She certainly couldn’t say she was shocked, the two of them spent most of their time walking the very thin line between banter and outright flirting, but still. She’d never seen them like this, and she got the feeling that was very much intentional. She hesitated a moment, thinking over her options, before dropping her keys loudly on the concrete floor. She took her time picking them up, trying to make as much noise as she could without it being obvious that that's what she was doing. Let them know she was there and give them a moment to move if they wanted to before she walked in.

Sure enough when she rounded the corner again Eames was leaning against the table several feet from Arthur, who suddenly seemed singularly focused on whatever papers he had in front of him. Ariadne smiled apologetically. “Sorry, I know I already said night for the evening, but have either of you seen my phone? I think I left it here, and I didn’t see it on any of the tables in the other room.”

Eames glanced around, frowning, before pointing to the counter. “Is that it?”

She followed his finger, smiling in relief when she spotted her phone lying next to some of Yusuf’s equipment. “Shit, yeah, thanks.” She slipped it into her pocket and gave a quick wave as she headed back towards the door, walking quickly. She already felt awkward for interrupting, no need to make it worse by staying longer than absolutely necessary. “Okay, goodnight for real this time!”

Ariadne glanced back once she was back outside, the light from the workshop shining dimly through the obscured windows. That…certainly hadn't been what she'd expected to find. It was sweet though, honestly. And it certainly put their bickering in a new light. She wondered if Cobb knew; he and Arthur clearly knew each other fairly well, so if anyone else knew it'd be him. Given their apparent desire to keep their relationship hidden, though, she doubted it. She set off down the sidewalk toward her apartment, smiling slightly. Well, he wouldn't hear it from her.

XXX

When Saito had first begun considering hiring Dominic Cobb to perform inception, he’d done his homework. Arthur Cohen- though Saito doubted that was his real name- had come up repeatedly in the process, and Saito hadn’t been surprised in the least to find him working this job as well. He was known for being one of the best pointmen in the field and for being serious, efficient, and perfectionistic. And he had very much lived up to that reputation in the short time Saito had been working with him.

Unless Eames was around.

“Thank you for your input, Eames, it was most helpful.”

Eames leaned back in his chair with what might have passed as a polite smile if he’d been aiming it at anyone else. Saito couldn’t tell which Eames seemed to enjoy more: starting disagreements with Arthur, or egging him on once they began. Either way it was a common enough occurrence that Saito knew exactly what was coming. This was the third time they’d gone at it in as many hours. “Well someone has to bring some imagination to the job, and it clearly isn’t going to be you, love.”

“Yes, your imagination is always so wonderfully helpful. Like on the Barraker job, remember how helpful it was then? It even managed to get me shot if I remember correctly.”

“See?” Eames grinned. “Very helpful indeed.”

Cobb sighed. “Focus, gentlemen. Please.” He turned back to papers spread out across the table. “We need to figure out how to get Fischer from ‘I will create something for myself’ on the second level to ‘my father doesn’t want me to be him’ on the third. It’s a logical leap, but still a bit of a leap all the same.”

That was when it happened. A small smile that was more warm than teasing, met with an eye roll that was more fond than annoyed. The exchange was over almost immediately and both men were back to paying attention to Cobb like nothing had happened. If Saito hadn’t been specifically watching the two of them he would’ve missed it, and as it was he seemed to be the only one who’d caught it.

Saito'd had several affairs over the years. He'd never married himself, nor did he intend to, but several of his partners had been, so he knew that game quite well. Hiding affection in plain sight. Stolen glances when no one else was looking, lingering touches that were just brief enough to still look casual, carefully maintained appearances and interactions that often carried a second, more intimate meaning. He was familiar with all of them, having been both the initiator and recipient of them on numerous occasions. It was a game built on subtlety. On delicacy. On smiles and eye rolls when no one else was paying attention.

He continued watching Arthur and Eames as the conversation continued but the moment didn't repeat itself, not even when they started bickering again a few minutes later. Saito couldn't help but wonder what they were like when they were alone; the fondness and warmth had been brief, but it hinted at a side to both men that was surprising. It perhaps shouldn't have been- he knew as well as anyone that a professional persona was often little more than that, a persona- but it was nonetheless.

He sighed slightly and went back to actually listening to what Cobb was saying. He was the one who'd insisted on being this involved in the job in the first place, the least he could do was pay attention.

XXX

For a profession that took place almost entirely while asleep, dream sharing was full of people with terrible sleep schedules. Even occasional somnacin use fucked with the circadian rhythm and the amounts professional extractors used were enough to completely destroy any hope of a regular sleeping pattern. So Yusuf didn't think twice about knocking on Eames' hotel door at 11pm. He was three cups of coffee in and eager to share the breakthrough he'd just had, nearly vibrating with a combination of caffeine and excitement. Actively working with a team on a job opened up so many new possibilities that he'd never really had the chance to explore running his shop back in Mombasa, and he was thrilled to finally have the chance to do so.

Eames gave him a tired smile when he opened the door. "Yes, hello Yusuf, can I help you?"

He looked surprisingly disheveled, his shirt untucked and hair out of place, and Yusuf briefly wondered if he'd maybe been getting ready for bed. Even if he was this wouldn't take long, and Yusuf was too excited to not tell someone what he'd figured out. "I was working- well, I was actually making coffee, but that's a necessary part of working, so basically the same thing- and I realized something." He pushed past Eames and into his room. He had a tendency to get a little loud once he got going, so he figured it'd be best if they didn't have this conversation in the hallway. "So the compound we'll be using creates a super clear connection, right? Between dreamers? And normally we talk about that just in relation to the team members, but it obviously includes the mark as well! That means when you're impersonating Browning on the first level you could…"

Yusuf stopped, confused, when he got into the main part of Eames' room. He'd assumed Eames would be alone because, well, it was 11pm on a Tuesday. Not exactly prime time for company. But Arthur was there too, laying on the bed. He was propped up on his elbows, expression somewhere between mortification and murderous intent. It would've been pretty funny, honestly, if it hadn't been directed at Yusuf. He frowned. Had Arthur come in to talk about the job with Eames as well? He couldn't think of any other reason for him to be here. He looked a bit disheveled too, jacket laying on the ground beside the bed and shirt partially unbuttoned, which was odd given how proper Arthur usually was, and… Yusuf stopped.

Oh.

Oh no.

"Did you need something?"

Arthur's tone was tight and yeah, that was definitely murderous intent in his expression. "I, uh…" Yusuf glanced around, panicking. This was bad. He needed to get out of here. "I, um, you know, it's really not that important. It can, uh, it can wait. Until tomorrow. Yeah. I'm, um, I'm going to, uh, go now."

"That'd be great, thanks." Eames was still standing by the door, pinching the bridge of his nose and looking like he wanted Yusuf out of the room just as much as Yusuf wanted to leave. He moved aside as Yusuf hurried passed him and back out into the hallway. "Oh, and Yusuf?"

Yusuf turned around, trying to keep his expression neutral. "Y-yeah?"

"This, um," Eames ran a hand through his hair, giving Yusuf an embarrassed smile, "this just stays between us, yeah?"

Yusuf nodded. Keep it quiet, he could do that. "Not a word."

"Thanks." Eames closed his door and Yusuf hurried back to his own room. He closed the door behind him and quickly locked it, deadbolt and chain, just for good measure. He didn't think Arthur would actually kill him- there were clearly…other things to occupy his attention right now- but he still intimidated Yusuf enough that he figured it was better safe than sorry.

It was a bit sweet though, now that he had a chance to actually think about it. The two of them were insufferable around each other but in the sort of way a kid was insufferable around their crush, and he'd wondered if they had a bit of a thing for each other. It was nice to know he'd been right, even if it meant avoiding Arthur for the next few days.

XXX

In retrospect, Dom felt rather stupid for not having seen it earlier.

He'd known Arthur a long time. He’d actually been the architect on the first job Arthur ever worked, which was how they’d met, and they’d worked together relatively frequently in the years since. He was the only person Dom had worked with who had met his kids, even if just briefly, and he’d been one of the only semi-stable parts of Dom’s life since Mal’s death. They’d had their differences over the years, but Dom unquestionably considered him a friend. Probably the closest one he had anymore, and he liked to think he knew at least a decent bit about him.

One of the things he knew was that Arthur and Eames bickered. They always had, ever since the first job Dom had worked with both of them. It was just what they did. That was the unspoken arrangement of any job both of them were working: you got an excellent point man, an excellent forger, and a guarantee that they’d refuse to shut up or get along for more than 5 minutes for the entirety of the job. Dom had occasionally wondered if it was more flirting than actual bickering- it certainly walked the line sometimes- but he’d never really given it much mind. Even if it had been flirting, there hadn’t been anything behind it.

Except maybe there had.

Because Arthur’s voice wasn’t usually as soft, or as fond, as it was when he told Eames to go to sleep. Dom glanced over at him as he rolled up his own sleeve. Eames had already gone under but Arthur was still crouched by him, Eames’ hand in his. It was small, maybe nothing for most people, but Dom knew Arthur. Knew him pretty well, or at least as well as Arthur let anyone know him. He wasn’t nearly as cold or emotionless as people tended to assume he was, but he also wasn’t a particularly affectionate person, not openly at least. And that was affection in his expression, clear as day.

He looked away as Arthur stood back up, busying himself with his IV. That…wasn't a side of Arthur he'd really seen before, and he got the feeling that was intentional. Arthur was a private man after all, even for someone in their profession, and this was far from a good time to risk infringing on that. There was more than enough shit going on that was more important, and Arthur would have his hands full enough trying to hold off Fischer's sub-security for Dom to risk throwing him off; their lives depended on Arthur being focused.

"Hey, you ready?"

"Yeah, just…just give me a sec." Dom finished rolling up his sleeve and got ready to insert the line. Maybe he'd ask after the job, assuming they all made it.

XXX

Arthur was usually a pretty even keeled person. Years of working in the underworld of extraction meant that very little surprised him anymore, and he tended to be unfazed by most things. Even when things did manage to surprise him he'd long learned to keep it hidden below the surface, away and out of sight. Right now, though, he felt almost giddy.

They’d done it. They’d fucking done it. Inception. It’d gone sideways in just about every way possible, but they’d still done it. It was an amazing feeling and as Eames came up beside him, Arthur couldn’t help but look at him with a grin. Eames raised an eyebrow, chuckling. “You’re in a good mood.”

“And you’re not?”

“Course I am.” Eames grinned back and leaned in slightly, his hand brushing briefly against Arthur’s hip. “You just don’t usually show it so openly.”

Arthur leaned in as well, resting against Eames' arm. "I have my moments."

"That you do, darling," Eames laughed. "That you do." After a moment he shifted, slipping his arm around Arthur's waist. They generally avoided any sort of public affection but Arthur leaned into the touch, wrapping his own arm around Eames' waist in return. Eames laughed again. "You really are in a good mood."

"Just looking forward to celebrating a job well done." He rested his head against Eames' shoulder. Across the baggage carousel Saito caught his eye, raising an eyebrow, and Arthur shrugged slightly in return. "I was thinking dinner?"

"Mm, maybe a few drinks too." Eames pulled him in slightly. "I know a wonderful bar near the hotel, one of my favourites in the city."

"Sounds like an excellent plan." Knowing Eames, a favourite bar could refer to anything from an exclusive establishment to a hole in the wall dive bar, and Arthur absolutely couldn't find it in him to care which it was. All that mattered was that it was the two of them, celebrating.

The baggage area slowly began to clear out as people's luggage began dropping down onto the carousel. Yusuf hurried by them, bag in hand, glancing at them briefly and nodding before looking away again almost immediately. Eames chuckled and Arthur couldn't help but smile as well; he'd been awkward around them ever since he'd stopped by Eames' room unannounced, even going so far as to avoid the both of them as much possible for a few days afterwards. Ariadne seemed to have no such qualms, though, flashing them a wide grin as she walked by. Arthur smiled back; if Ariadne stayed in the dreamsharing field- which Arthur had a feeling she would, reality was never enough after getting a taste for dream construction- he had no doubt he and Eames would get a comment or two from her the next job they worked together.

The giddiness faded somewhat as he and Eames waited for their bags to appear, but the sense of excitement and disbelief stayed. Arthur caught Dom's eye as he made his way across the room and Dom nodded, his own expression mirroring Arthur's disbelief. They'd really done it. They'd performed inception. Completed a job that shouldn't have been possible and gotten Dom home. Arthur hummed happily as Eames rested his cheek against the top of his head. It would be nice to spend the night out, dinner and drinks and wherever else they ended up until they finally ended up back at the hotel, riding the high of what they'd managed to pull off. After everything, they deserved it.

#arthur x eames #arthur/eames #dream husbands #dreamhusbands #inception #arthur #eames #ariadne #saito #yusuf #dom cobb #arthur inception #eames inception #ariadne inception #saito inception #yusuf inception #arthureames #local trash goblin writes stuff

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polandspringz · 4 years

Text

Poland’s Thoughts on the OM Angel Event

AKA- I’m trying to bridge this divide in the fandom that only seems to worsen with every piece of new content

So, I just finished the new event, but before I even finished it I saw in the tags a lot of people posting about it and the majority of the reactions were negative. There’s a chance I’m reading the language in the posts a little too strongly, but I think that a lot of this anger towards the developers is misplaced, and this isn’t just limited to the OM fandom, but it is one example that can be representative of a growing issue in how we as fans consume media and interpret content, especially when it extends to how we interact with the creators of said content.

To begin, I understand what people are angry about with this event. They disliked the way the brothers were forced against their will (consent is a term I am seeing thrown around on a few posts) to act righteous, due to the bangles Simeon gave on them that were imbued with magic. People are upset seeing the brothers acting so unlike themselves, Diavolo’s role in it, as both an instigator and bystander, and how Simeon was characterized throughout this event as he largely did not see much wrong with what was happening.

I think the reason so many players are leaving this event with a sour taste is because of the lack of closure. I was taking notes on the entire event and waiting for the end to undo everything like usual and we get the characters discussing how happy they were to be back to normal again or we at least get some of their own thoughts on the experience. I was surprised that we did not get that this time, instead, we only see all the brothers continue to act unlike themselves under the spell, way too cheery and perfect with only Lucifer having partially broken the spell and watching on amused, acting as another bystander in the event. We are given the implication that the rest will return to normal in due time (somewhat like the ending of the Paws event, if I am recalling correctly) but it’s not concrete enough. We should have been given at least an extra few lines of dialogue of the characters back to normal giving their comments on the situation they went through, but because we didn’t, they don’t have any autonomy still, and we as the players are left uncertain about what is our interpretation and what is canon.

However, despite us missing this ending scene, I think the narrative of the event is undeniably still about the idea of one’s true self being important, flaws and all, and I think a lot of players are missing this concept.

When I said earlier that I think many fandoms are suffering from this problem, I’m referring to this problem where fans will gleam a theme from a work, often times it is a theme meant to showcase something problematic, and then the fans will turn on the authors and go “well it’s problematic so the creators’ are in the wrong”, forgetting that the only reason they’re interpreting it as being wrong is because the creators’ intentionally added that frame into the story. I have more strong feelings about this in the BNHA fandom, but for now, let’s stick to the OM fandom and this specific event:

1) Players are mad that the brothers were forcibly changed and not acting like themselves.

This is a valid thing to be angry about, but I am surprised seeing how many people are ignoring the fact that you as the player are given options to acknowledge that you dislike the “righteous” way the characters are being forced to behave. There are multiple points throughout this event where, when the brothers are apologizing or explaining the MC how much they’ve changed, that you can chose an option to say “I liked the old you”, “There’s something off,” or something akin to that. OM does have an issue with a lot of the dialogue options for the MC being a bit too passive, but in this event, you are not forced to like the behavior. During my playthrough of it, I actually refused to kiss some of the characters and almost exclusively told them I disliked the way they were acting even if it was something good like giving to charity in Mammon’s case.

In terms of the brothers’ being forced to act this way against their will, although the overall event does not paint this in a dark tone (it treats the brothers’ actions the same way it does any of their individual scenes with MC in other events), there are pieces of dialogue that help create this theme of choice and free will. In the first set of lessons, Beel says to the MC “It’s something I want to do, not because I’m obligated to.” A few lessons later, Belphegor says “It’s the first time I’ve felt so free.” There is blatant irony in these lines because we as the players know that there is nothing about freedom or wants/personal desires coming from these characters in this state. It’s not even dramatic irony because the MC witnessed and knows that the brothers are under a spell, hence why you can still say you miss how they were acting and that Solomon even acknowledges that things feel wrong. When I see players comment about how they are upset about the brothers being forced to act this way, I don’t understand how they are mad at the writers when it is written in the way that you are supposed to know their words are disingenuous. I will admit that the light hearted tone does offset it and make it seem as if the developers are painting their actions in a good light, but we as the MC are constantly given the option to say that something is wrong. This is not a matter of the developers seeing it as a “good” thing, but they leave it up to the player to make the choice to choose whether to embrace the way the brothers are acting as a positive thing (and personally all the options where you agree with the controlled actions of the brothers’ made me feel as though- if I chose them- that MC was not in a healthy, truthful relationship with the brothers).

In terms of the “consent” argument being thrown around, it is a valid word choice to use in this situation, however, I am surprised to see no one talking about the scene with Lucifer directly involving consent with MC. In lesson 1-12, when you are in his room with him, he asks you to get on the bed, and then pushes you down before the spell controlling him corrects his actions and he apologizes. It is not shown that he pushes you, but the flow of the scene is this-

Lucifer asks MC to get on the bed. Noise is then heard as if someone was putting weight on the bed and Lucifer says “You really trust me quite a lot,” before he says “I didn’t mean to push you down like that.”

Some players may have read it as the MC getting on the bed themselves, and whether Lucifer pushed them onto the bed is debatable, but it’s heavily implied that he at the very least pushes you down onto the bed. I think if anything, the use of the word consent in terms of this event needs to be applied here, as Lucifer forces the MC down without their consent (player is not given an option about whether to comply with his request) before the angelic-form makes him apologize for what he did. I normally am against the people who dislike how evil the demons act (they’re demons! They’re meant to be acting sinful or wrong or disagreeable with our own morals) but I just thought that if people are going to talk about consent in terms of the brothers, we should acknowledge how the theme of consent and choice is also shown in scenes like this, where the spell on Lucifer actually does a good thing by correcting his behavior when he was doing something wrong.

However, there is one more point I want to make about this event, and it follows this discussion about the demon’s behavior-

2) This event, had it been given closure, would’ve had a strong theme of accepting oneself.

This is most clearly seen with Levi and Satan. With Satan, we are aware of his dislike of his rage, his wrath. He does not like to get angry, and puts on masks to try and seem better than his core sin makes him feel. However, when he gets turned into an angel, he specifically says:

“Perhaps that’s why I feel so strange. I don’t feel like myself at all. I end up thinking about if I were an angel, would i have looked and felt like this? And then... I get a foreboding feeling. Like, my heart... becoming tranquil. Normally, that wouldn’t seem like something bad right? Something isn’t right.”

Once again, I would like to point out that the reason that players are able to look at this event and say, “The brothers are being forced to not act like themselves, and that’s bad and upsets me as a player” is because the writers themselves are writing into the story that it is bad. Satan is directly acknowledging that he dislikes what is going on, hence why we as players can say that something is wrong. This isn’t my core analysis of this dialogue, but once again, it is something I am growing tired of seeing people attack or complain about the creators for writing something that is “bad”, as if the creators did not write in the fact that “this is a bad thing.” You can criticize media and the way things are written, but if you are going to ignore the fact that what you’re claiming the writers are ignoring has already been written, your criticism holds little weight.

Moving on, my main takeaway from this scene was that Satan, a character who has spent so long loathing his anger and how he loses himself during it, was upset by his lack of it. We as the MC got very little dialogue in this scene to push the idea further, but to me it was clear that had the story been given more closure, or the events having more story to include more focus on each character, we could have gotten more of a direct statement from Satan of something like “I always disliked my rage, but without it, I don’t feel like me. I’m who I am because of my rage, it’s not something I should be ashamed of.” If that had been included, I’m sure players would have once again been much happier about this event. However, we shouldn’t need such a direct statement of character development to understand that development has happened. One of the biggest techniques about writing dialogue is the idea that when people talk, they don’t say everything, which I see a lot of fandoms griping about when characters don’t directly express things like trauma or abuse in concrete terms or have conversations where they directly say things like “You did something bad to me and I won’t forgive you for that” (I can’t think of the best example right now because it’s 2 AM but again, I have better examples when talking about the BNHA fandom). Ernest Hemingway and his iceberg technique focused on this idea of people rarely saying what they mean, and it’s a much more realistic approach to dialogue.

I’m not saying the writing of OM is anything near the works of great writers. However, I am saying that we shouldn’t need characters to be so unnatural and direct in their dialogue to be satisfied that development has been had or resolution has been met. It’s not natural for them to outright say so, and as readers we shouldn’t need such explicit confirmation of such things (note: when using “confirmation” I am only talking about instances of development, and not things like confirmed representation of LGBTQ or characters expressing their sexuality. Those are entirely different situations requiring different discussion. Please do not misconstrue my words).

Back to the themes of the choice and accepting oneself, I want to end this on the character that truly got the short end of this event- Levi. Levi was so instantaneously changed to have righteous actions and a similar mindset, and there was very little discussion on it within the game itself. However, although Levi does not express much outside of his “controlled” state in this event, when he talks about his “old lifestyle”, we as players can still get a lot from it:

“Huh? My identity? Was my identity solely based on me being an otaku? I’ve been using anime, manga, and games to hide all this time... Always looking down on others while locking myself away in my own world. But not anymore! Instead of spending all my time and energy on 2D stuff, I’m going to spend it on nurturing my relationships in the real world. Doesn’t that sound wonderful?”

It does not sound wonderful, because it brings up the questions of “Was there anything actually wrong with Levi’s lifestyle to begin with?” Sure, he was a shut in, and that can’t be healthy, and he had a bad self loathing issue, but, he found happiness in anime, manga, and games. He found happiness in sharing it with you the player. We know this from the main storyline, and so we know that Levi is obviously not truly thinking this, but unfortunately we never get to see a conclusion of his thoughts on this, and he is given no autonomy by the end of the event to comment on his words here. I will agree with people that Levi’s is the most upsetting, partially because it makes my fanfiction writer mind spin into thoughts of him trapped inside his body wanting to keep his things but being forced to throw them out. That is upsetting. But it is not something we should be attacking or getting mad at the writers for, because if you are reading the story right, it can be seen as meant to evoke that reaction. Likely if you are Levi stan, this scene upset you, and you should be unhappy to see him acting this way. You should know something’s wrong, because there was nothing wrong with how Levi was living before. But, the last big theme of the event is the idea of good vs. evil, or right vs. wrong, and as we are playing a game where the main idea is to romance demons, we are always going to be skewed to see the traditional “good” side (of Simeon and the angels) as not truly good, and the “bad” side (of the demons) as not really that bad. We can sympathize with them, we understand and feel upset at seeing them slighted by what is considered “good. I saw one person bring up the idea of this event evoking questions of ethics, and I agree, but I’m better at explaining things through philosophy. This event, especially for Simeon’s character, brings to mind questions of if the Celestial Realm in the game’s universe is actually good and has the best interests of others in mind, or if it is actually deeply flawed by its staunchness to what is considered goodness? (We can see similar discussions in shows like Good Omens.)

To conclude, I just want to finish up on Simeon’s character in this event. I saw many exclamations of “why would he do this? What’s wrong with him?” and I like to present the idea that Simeon is much stronger of a manipulator than we have been viewing him through the lens of “holy angel”. He writes TSL based on the brothers, he likely views them as content to inspire him. He does not care for them as deeply as we as the fandom may be twisting him to be. Overall, I find all these problems with reading and analyzing media to stem from people having trouble interpreting morally gray characters, themes, and actions, and often they claim an author is making something black and white when the author is actually directly telling the reader things are not black and white. OM is such a small fandom in the grand scheme of things, but rather than me rehashing an argument in a much larger fandom, this seemed like a refreshing, safer place to start.

If you read through all this, I do hope you enjoyed. My ask box is always open if you want to hear more of my thoughts.

#obey me #shall we date #obey me shall we date #obey me mammon #obey me lucifer #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me asmodeus #obey me simeon #obey me angels #obey me devs #poland's thoughts

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