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youkissedareaderinthedark · 11 months

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Coraline

Synopsis: Y/n’s childhood and history with her parents has always stayed a secret, and she likes it that way. Until a journalist reveals the truth, and everything seems to come crashing down at once.

young female driver reader x 2023 F1 grid

A/N: a few things for this fic: reader will be 20 years old, had driven for alpha tauri since the beginning of 2022, the 2022 is the same as the 2023 grid, and please look at the trigger warning below.

Trigger Warning: This fic contains abusive parents, talks of eating disorders, neglecting a kid, verbally abusing a kid, signs of depression, and a lot of hurtful comments in general. This fic is not meant to idolize or romanticize having abusive parents or depression. If anyone finds anything particularly disturbing with this fic, do not hesitate to let me know and I will fix it.

tagged: @treehouse-mouse

2023 was supposed to be a good season for Alpha Tauri. The cars looked good, your driver pairing was solid, and the hopes were high for your junior Red Bull team. You could only laugh at the naivety of it now.

Most of the season was exceptional; you and Yuki Tsunoda brought in points almost every weekend, your team was seventh in the constructors championship, and overall, you were having a great time traveling around the world.

This was your second year in Formula 1, and now that you weren’t a rookie anymore, you could have more fun now that you knew what you were doing.

Some people just don’t like others being happy, though.

With less than 10 races left, you walked into the paddock for the Monza Grand Prix Thursday afternoon feeling optimistic. This was the second race after the summer break, and Alpha Tauri was expected to do well in Italy.

Your press officer, Ally, greeted you in your garage, and after saying hello to Yuki, you followed her out of the garage and into the media pen for a press conference.

You walk in to see Lewis, Carlos, Lando, and Fernando and talked quietly with them as the press in front of you get settled. “Everybody ready? All right, first question please” One of the directors asks, as a journalists speaks up.

“Lewis, you’ve witnessed the infamous ‘Monza Curse’ multiple times in your career, do you think the theory is true and will it strike again this year?”

“Um, no” Lewis chuckles. “I don’t believe in the curse, but it would be nice to see someone new finish first today, and if a curse is what it’s going to take, then yeah, why not”

The five of you laugh, not noticing the second journalist beginning to speak. “Y/n, what do you have to say about the recent article published regarding your past with your family?”

You instantly stop laughing, hoping you misheard the man.

“Sorry?”

There’s no way

“The article? That was recently published concerning your past with your parents, what do you have to say about it?” The journalist stared at you curiously while your mind blanked for an answer.

You had no idea what article he was talking about, but if it concerned your past with your ‘family’, you knew it wasn’t anything that should be published.

Suddenly there’s movement in the midst of the media pen, and your press officer emerges from the crowd. “Y/n, come with me” She pauses, seeing one of the directors nearing out of the corner of her eye.

“It’s urgent, I need her” You’d take any excuse to get away from the current situation, so after exchanging a look with Lewis, you follow the woman into the paddock towards your garage.

Once you were both in the safety of your drivers room, you turned on her. “What article is he talking about? What’s going on?” You said, voice heavy with concern.

Ally hesitated, looking uncomfortable, before answering. “This morning, an article published a story talking about you and your parents, and the-um, harsh history you have with them” She hands you her phone, said article already open.

“I think it’s better if you read it yourself” The bold letters blink up at you, clear and sullen.

“F1 DRIVERS UNCOVERED: THE REAL REASON WE DON’T SEE Y/N L/N’S PARENTS”

Your heart falls to your stomach and your hands start to shake as your eyes skim over the words of the most invading and overwhelming article you’ve ever read in your life. Whoever wrote this, wrote it in hopes of exposing every secret of your past, and further tangles the truth of an already over-complicated background.

The real reason your parents are never around you is a reason you hate talking about.

You first realized it when you were around ten years old, the way your parents never looked happy around each other, and always tense around other parents. The way they never said ‘I love you’ or kissed each other goodbye. It confused you, as these were the things you always saw your friend’s parents do, but you were too young to understand at the time, so you mainly ignored it.

It wasn’t until one night when you were eleven that you heard an argument erupting from your kitchen, one about money and divorces and you. The shouting continued for ages, until you heard one statement, loud and clear.

“Think about this, she’s getting good in those karting competitions of hers, and according to other parents she could go really far in this thing and get money from sponsorships and mentors. So let’s just give it a little time, make sure she gets better and gets paid, and the money will go to us and eventually she’ll leave to Formula- whatever and we won’t have to worry about her”

You put your pillow over your head, turned around, and went to sleep sobbing that night.

From then on, there was no ‘I love you’s’ or kisses goodbye even to you, and eventually, no happiness in your house. The ‘other parents’ were right, the older you got, the farther you looked to go in racing. Just before you turned 13, the three of you moved to a city in England so you could pursue karting further, and that’s when it all got worse.

You competed in countless competitions, and every race you won, the more criticism you got from your mom and dad. The second you stepped off the 1st place podium, your parents were waiting to comment on your driving and the techniques you should’ve used to win.

They never let you focus on anything but karting, letting you go nowhere but the track and to school, and made sure you were always looking for ways to get better. They ruthlessly compared you to kids in other series that were performing better than you, and countered every compliment someone gave you with a complaint.

All of this seemed like a dream compared to the treatment you got when you lost. Whether it be second, or tenth, every race you didn’t come first in was a loss, and your parents simply didn’t accept this.

When you lost, they’d make you practice on track for twice as long, no matter the weather, and berated you the second you started to complain. They limited your diet after your losses, claiming you needed to be lighter if you wanted the kart to go faster.

Your mother and father gave you this relentless attention with anything regarding racing, but the moment the topic drifted, you were neglected. There were no family dinners or movie nights, if you wanted something, you were going to have to buy it with your own money, and if you wanted to go somewhere, you needed to walk or find a ride because they refused to drive you anywhere if it wasn’t for a race.

There was no other family to go to even when things go impossibly rougher; you had no other relatives in the UK, and you couldn’t exactly ask your friends if you could live with them.

So you endured these conditions, all the way through the F4 British Championship, F3 and F2. You turned 18 while you were in Formula 2, and the second you did, you took the little money you had, and rented an apartment in South England, where you’ve been living ever since.

Your parents constantly contacted you in whatever ways they could, but you very quickly made sure they didn’t know where you lived and were never given paddock passes again. No one knows any of this anyway; when people ask where your parents are or when they’d get to meet them, you just shrug and say, “they couldn’t make it”

You haven’t seen your parents in person since you were 17, and you’ve done everything in your power to keep it like that.

Though with a few thousand words and 4 hours, one nosy journalist has managed to unravel all your work and growth and release it into the world.

You’re broken out of your stunned silence when Ally puts a hand on your shoulder. “I’ve set up a meeting with Alpha Tauri and Red Bull’s PR managers so we could figure out what we should do next to keep the press off your back, okay? The meeting’s in fifteen meetings, so I’ll leave you for a while”

Ally takes her phone back and exits the room to leave you standing still in the middle of it, astonished and speechless.

The meeting goes as well as you expected it to go. You shared as much as the truth as you saw fit, and came up with a statement to post with the rest of the PR managers. You were confirmed to go back to the media pen to finish interviews an hour later, and while no one asked you about the article, you could tell it was the unanswered question they all wanted to raise.

You are able to avoid most of the press of the remaining of the Italian weekend, and stuck to answering race-related questions only, your safest and only option, Ally told you later. You finished the Grand Prix P10, and flew home still sullen.

You spent the two weeks in between Monza and Japan in your apartment, regretfully thinking about all those years you had to spend under your parent’s treatment, and trying to forget them with simulator work.

You arrive in Suzuka, quiet and unsmiling, and try to ignore the shouting of the press that greets you on your way into the paddock. Ally guides you away as two new voices greet you.

“Hey Y/n, how are you?” Lewis asks, pulling you into a side hug and stepping into place beside you.

“Are you okay? You seem off” Charles says concerned, meeting you in a handshake.

“I’m fine, my flight just got in late last night so I’m tired, that’s all” You half smiled in response, hoping it was believable enough.

“Sure?” Lewis presses father. “Yeah, I’m okay” You nod.

“Okay, well, we’re still going into the city after media today?” Lewis asks. “Of course, I’ll meet you guys at my hotel after” You assure as you near the Alpha Tauri garage.

“See you then, and try to sleep a bit, yes?” Charles says before the two men walk off together.

Your friendship with the two drivers started because of the Spanish and British Grand Prix’s, the two races that gave you your two highest race finishes, and ended with two of your closest friends. Spain was a great race for both you and Lewis, yourself in P4, him in P2, and after non-stop talking in the paddock, you flew back to the UK together, effectively starting the friendship existing today.

You’d been friendly with Charles previously, but after his P9 finish in Silverstone and your P5 finish, he realized in a conversation before an interview that you were undeniably good at cheering people up, and you guys have been close since.

You’ve talked with them since Monza, of course, but not about the article. They want to talk to you about it, you can tell, but Charles and Lewis aren’t the type of people to just come right out and ask if you’re feeling okay about your history with your abusive parents being exposed to the world.

They also don’t want to pressure you into talking about something you clearly don’t want to talk about, so if all they can do is help distract you from the media, they’re going to.

Your night out with the Mercedes and Ferrari drivers does distract you; Lewis leads you and Charles to different shops and restaurants all over Suzuka, talking and laughing the entire time. You take a few photos along the way, and you go back to your hotel still smiling.

You kept your good mood until qualifying on Saturday, and are brought back into the reality of racing when you only manage P11. It’s technically not bad of a result for your car, but P9 or P8 would’ve been better right now, because all you can think about is what your parents would’ve said if you finished P11.

They’re paying you millions of dollars to race for them and the best you can do is eleventh?

You think you deserve to be here?

They are hundreds of other drivers that would do so much better than you

You are nothing compared to the other drivers

You’re lucky if you keep you seat next season, I know I wouldn’t let a P11 driver on my team

You go quiet at the thought, and get through post-race media stoic. You leave with your trainer as soon as you can, avoiding Lewis and Charles’s eyes on your way out. You have a week before you have to leave for Qatar, and spend a countless amount of hours on your simulator, hoping this time it’ll make a difference.

You flew into Lusail not knowing what to expect other than hot weather, and unfortunately you were right. You felt the heat as soon as you got in your car for FP1 on Friday and was already dreading the rest of the weekend.

You qualify P11 for both the race and the sprint, and end up in P12 for the two. You felt terrible after Sunday’s race, both physically and mentally, and you’re already berating yourself for your performance by the time you get weighed.

Charles and Lewis are in your post-race press conference group, and you can see them exchange a look after every cold and detached answer you give. You only stop to talk to your friends for a few minutes afterwards before you excuse yourself to go cool down, and leave minutes later with the defense of needing rest.

You fly back to the UK with Lewis, and you’re glad the two of you are asleep for most of the trip so Lewis won’t ask you to talk about why you’ve been so quiet.

The 10 days you have until you fly out to Austin are spent mostly on your phone, looking at all the comments people have been making about you since the article came out, saying how you probably deserved the treatment that you got, and how Alpha Tauri needs a more “stable” driver if they want to advance in the championship.

You don’t do much except exercise and train on the sim in those days, finding neither the desire or energy to do anything else.

Even though everyone is happy to be in Texas that week, you can’t find the energy to truly smile once that weekend. Charles and Lewis are practically stuck to your side, and even though you can tell they’re dying to ask you to talk about it, they only ask a few times if you wanted to tell them something, and when you denied, and simply offered companionship through silence.

It’s another sprint race, and you only pull off P12 and 13 for qualifying and the shootout, and drop a place by the end of both races.

You feel more frustrated with yourself than ever; you don’t understand why you can’t work with the car like you once used to, and you can’t even figure out how to again. You were doing so well until that fucking article came out, and all the sudden you don’t know how to drive.

The worst part about it is that every race, more and more people are realizing how you’ve been under-performing, and how people are starting to question your ability to drive for the junior Red Bull team.

You aren’t stupid, you know how things work at Red Bull, so you know that if you don’t pick your pace up soon, you could end up without a seat for the 2024 season.

This thought alone starts to destroy you, and soon you can’t even deny how burnt out you are. You pick up on the forced habit of not eating much, and making yourself to do nothing but train and look for ways to be better.

You spend the days before Mexico with data analysts and strategists, looking for any and every way to go faster. You dedicate too much time looking at successful F2 drivers, hearing Liam Lawson’s name come up too much for comfort, thinking about how Dennis Hauger had been looking fast in F2.

It’s a terribly unhealthy time killer, one that makes you look sick and go quiet. Charles and Lewis aren’t the only ones exchanging concerned looks now; multiple other drivers on the grid, friends with you or not, notice the change in your behavior and quickly grow worried when they hear Yuki’s description of you.

The drivers aren’t stupid either, they all know about the article that was published in September, and most of them would be lying if they said they hadn’t looked at it in curiosity. They’d also be lying if they saw their eyes didn’t widen in concern or eyebrows didn’t furrow with worry when they read how terrible your parents treated you.

The grid saw how the comments got nastier and nastier under your lessening social media posts every day, and even asked your PR officer multiple times to make sure she was managing your accounts and making sure you didn’t see what people had to say about your background or yourself.

They saw how you got quieter every race, how you stopped hanging out with Yuki and Charles and Lewis, no matter how many times they offered. They saw the rumors of you and your 2024 seat, how apparently Helmut Marko was paying close attention to you and the clauses in your contract.

They asked a lot, if you wanted to talk or if they could help in any way. It was always the same response; a weary smile, a small shake of the head, the words,“No, I’m fine, just tired” and an excuse that you were needed in your garage or media pen.

So they try to help in more discreet ways; when Yuki is asked about your position on Alpha Tauri or your future with Red Bull, he calmly assures that you are working hard with the team, and is doing everything possible to understand the car.

Charles, Lewis, and a few other drivers make a routine of coming to your driver’s room, most of the time just to sit with you as you look at data, or talk with you when you’re feeling up to it.

Mexico goes somehow worse than Texas, and you finish with your lowest result in F1 yet, P15. You try to be as approachable as possible in post-race media, but your sullen face gives you away.

You leave with Ally and your trainer to catch your flight to Brazil mere hours after you passed the checkered flag, and spend most of your time in Sau Paulo alone in your hotel room, replaying every hurtful comment either your mother and father or fans have said about you, and debating whether or not it was true.

You walk into the Brazilian paddock Thursday morning more grateful than you thought possible that this was the third-to-last race of your season.

And according to over twenty media sources, your third-to last race of F1.

After a public statement made by Marko talking about how Red Bull was “considering your future with their junior team” every journalist in the F1 community has decided that it means this was your last season in F1.

And honestly, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. Whether you raced in 2024 or not, you just wanted to go home and avoid the press for three months.

It was another sprint weekend, and another terrible qualifying and shootout. You placed 15th in both sessions and kept your place in the sprint, and spent a quiet Saturday evening in your hotel.

You could feel almost every journalists eye’s turn to you as soon as you walked into the paddock on Sunday. You arrived early that afternoon to get some extra data-stuff done, only now realizing that it gave the growing group of reporters behind you more time to ask you questions.

“Y/n! Can you tell us about your future in F1?”

“Will you have a seat next year?

“Y/n, what does Helmut Marko think about your decrease in performance?”

“Does your past with your parents have anything to do with your recent race results?”

You try to keep your face emotionless as you make your way into the Alpha Tauri garage and to your drivers room. You prepare for the race with your personal trainer and look over the arranged strategies for Sau Paulo while you wait for the go-ahead to get in your car.

Due to all the crashed-out cars, you ended the race in P12 in front of Oscar Piastri and Daniel Ricciardo. Statistically speaking, it was one of your better 2023 races, but everyone knows if it wasn’t for all the DNF’s, you’d finish in the bottom five.

You know that everyone knows this because just before you walked into the media pen after your race debrief, you saw Christian Horner and Marko speaking to your team principle, and after Yuki’s P9 finish today, it didn’t take you even a second to understand who they were talking about with disappointed faces and multiple shakes of the head.

Sure, this could mean nothing. This could just be a conversation between the three people that control the top team and it’s junior team. But you also like to think you’re a bit smarter than that.

You walked deeper into the crowded area before the three could see you, and walked to the first open journalist you saw, in hopes of leaving early.

“Y/n, hi! Not too bad of a race for you today, I guess?” The man asked, pointing his microphone towards you

“Yeah, not too bad. The car felt pretty okay and there was a bit of pace, but not enough to overtake or anything, clearly” You reply.

“Can we expect more race pace from you in Las and Vegas and Abu Dhabi?”

“I mean, it’s a bit too early to tell, but we’ll hope and see what comes out out of the practices” The man nods before looking down at his notebook.

“And your seat for Alpha Tauri next year, we know you’re apart of the confirmed driver lineup for 2024 but Helmut Marko states that there are attainable clauses in your contract, what do you think about that?”

You’re caught off guard by the question, but right when you’re about to respond, the man continues.

“Surely, Alpha Tauri isn’t really considering keeping you for next season, are they?”

You’re standing in front of the man speechless now, your brain barely comprehending what’s being spoken.

“Because I know the last thing a team wants is an incapable driver that is too emotionally effected by her “traumatic” childhood to race,” the volume of his voice starts to increase, and other drivers are starting to focus on your one-sided conversation.

“I mean, c’mon, no one even believes that even happened to you, and if it did, your parents were probably right for doing it-”

Your hands are shaking, eyes are wide with shock, body suddenly freezing, and you don’t even think you’re breathing. All you can do is listen as this man goes on and on about how you’re a shitty driver and deserved how your parents treated you.

You’re only broken out of your trance when an arm clad in red wraps around your shoulders and pulls you through the paddock. You’re not even aware of the yelling from a certain Mercedes drivers gets quieter and quieter as you’re brought into your driver’s room.

You’re being sat on a couch, and suddenly Charles Leclerc’s face is right in front of you, hands on your shoulders and eyes filled with concerned. “Y/n? Y/n, look at me, please, Y/n-” Your eyes dart to him and in an instant, everything from the past five minutes comes rushing through your head, and you can’t stop the tears that start to fall down your face.

“Oh, Y/n” The Ferrari driver moves to comfort you, but stops as you begin to cover your face and move away.

“No, Y/n, it’s okay, please, let me help you, Y/n” Charles wraps his arms around you in a hug as your body begins to shake with uncontrollable sobs.

“I can’t- I can’t do this anymore, Charles” You say in between breaths.

“I have to quit or something, I can’t keep doing this Charles, I can’t” You let your head fall on his shoulder, as the man tries to calm you down.

Charles’ heart is breaking as he comforts his friend; he remembers loving his first few years in Formula 1, how everything was so new and exciting to him, he could never not want to race, not then and not now. But to hear one of his closest friends breakdown because of how much she hates being there, makes the man’s heart shatter.

The door abruptly opens, and for a moment, all you can hear is the low angry cursing of Lewis Hamilton, until he sees you and Charles, and his face immediately softens.

“Love, I’m so sorry. That guy is a complete arsehole, don’t listen to him” The British man says as he takes a seat beside you and wraps an arm around your shoulders.

“I don’t know what to do anymore, I feel so stuck in this place where everyone is always talking about what happened and I don’t know how much longer I can go through it” You say, your voice breaking off with another sob.

Charles hushes you once more, exchanging a worried look with Lewis as you pull away from him again. “I’m sorry, I know I should be doing better and everything but I just can’t-” You say, voice shaky through the tears.

“Don’t for one second be sorry that you’re not competitive right now. Y/n, thousands of people are talking about the one thing that hurt you the most, and I understand why you feel this way, just please, love, for your own good, let us help you. I promise it will make you feel better” Lewis assures, grabbing your hand.

So for the first time, you do. For over an hour, you tell Charles and Lewis everything that happened when you were younger, and how the article has made you feel since then. They listen quietly, nodding once in a while to let you know they understand, and gave you a hug when you stopped talking.

“Do you feel better now?” Lewis asks.

“Yeah, not entirely, but better”

“Good, that’s all I wanted to hear,”

“Are you ready to go home now? There’s a plane waiting for us, if you want”

“Definitely. I need to go home” You say as Charles helps pack up all your things and Lewis makes sure there’s a car waiting for you two outside. As you’re all walking through the nearly-empty paddock, Charles turns to you.

“I have to go back to my garage, but please Y/n, if you ever need to talk, call me? I want to help you, I don’t want to see you like this again” The Monegasque brings you into a hug.

“I know, Charles, I will” You promise.

“Okay, I’ll see you before Vegas, yes? Feel better!” He calls as he moves backwards and further into the paddock.

“You promise?”

Lewis asks you hours later in the front of the airport in England, just about to get into separate cars.

“Yes, Lewis, I’ll call when I need” You say to the older man in a hug.

“Alright, text me when you’ve made it home and make sure you get some rest. Don’t be too hard on yourself either, you don’t give yourself enough credit for everything you do” You smile at him.

“Okay, I’ll see you before Vegas?”

“See you before Vegas!” He shouts from his already-closed car door.

When you do see the two next, they make sure you’ve made an appointment with a therapist and are setting up a meeting with your PR manager to put together a statement in regards to your well-being the past two months.

Charles and Lewis make sure the media inside the paddock is severely monitored and checked before being allowed near the drivers, and help you fall back into healthier habits.

These changes don’t happen overnight, and they don’t take affect overnight, but you do use the winter off season to make sure these changes are helpful and working.

The three month break is utilized to mentally and physically prepare yorself in time for your 2024 seat at Alpha Tauri that was re-confirmed after your P8 finishes in Las Vegas and Abu Dhabi.

The media still knows everything, and you haven’t completely forgotten your childhood, you never will, but dealing with it still gets easier.

#formula 1 #reader insert #driver reader #f1 grid x reader #formula 1 driver imagines #platonic f1 grid #f1 2023 grid x y/n #f1 imagine #female driver reader #comfort fic #angst with a happy ending #angst #please look at trigger warning before you read #lewis hamilton #charles lecrelc #platonic lewis hamilton #platonic charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #lewis hamilton x reader

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vettelsvee · 2 months

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GOODBYES ARE BITTERSWEET SERIES

f1 masterlist | ao3 | requests or let's talk!

sebastian vettel x singer ex gf!reader | 2018 to 2022 f1 seasons

for more information to the reader: ❥ this series will include some flashbacks to get to know more the characters and their story. ❥ it contains right person, wrong time and friends to lovers tropes. ❥ taylor swift and little mix don't exist in this universe as y/n and her music is based on theirs. ❥ some parts might include sensitive content. pay attention to trigger warnings at the beginning of each part.

started: JULY 17TH 2024 currently status: on going | last updated: july 24th masterlist under the cut !

taglist: [@nhfls @jehun @ferralari @cosmoscoffeee @mcmuppet @myescapefromthislife @mploopssek @sleutherclaw @youre-on-your-ownkid ]

a/n: i couldn't keep it anymore. i just can't thank you enough to all of you who liked, reposted and commented on the very first part of goodbyes are bittersweet. i feel speechless because this story means a lot to me. hope you like the story of these stupid two as much as you liked the first part. hope to see your comments and feedback, and also hope we fangirl together over this two <3

SEBASTIAN VETTEL AND Y/N Y/L/N HAD BEEN EVERYTHING TO EACH OTHER SINCE THEY WERE LITTLE. The kids from Heppenheim became best friends as soon as their parents' friendship made it possible. To their surprise, but not to the rest of the world, the young pair formed an increasingly strong bond until, after years of internal suffering, they decided to confess their feelings to each other.

However, a slip-up at the beginning of 2013 left Y/N pregnant with the RedBull driver's child. Knowing what it would mean for her partner to bring a child into the world, especially considering that his chances of winning his fourth Formula 1 championship were very high, she made the tough decision to hide the truth from Sebastian, cutting off all relations with him and his family.

Four years after the birth of little Emily, in 2018, Y/N worked tirelessly to provide the best possible life for her daughter in a small bar in her hometown as a waitress and occasionally as a singer, while composing songs that she thought would never be successful... or so she believed until a video of her singing one of the best songs she ever composed went viral on YouTube, reaching more people than she ever imagined.

Even Sebastian Vettel, who never stopped loving the woman who had been his girlfriend for six years despite having tried to forget her many more times that he could count.

GOODBYES ARE BITTERSWEET MASTERLIST

part 1: y/n decides to break up with seb once she finds out she's pregnant part 2: seb finds out that y/n just went viral on youtube after posting a song that might been composed about him part 3: y/n discovers not only that she went viral on youtube on her birthday and that she's offered a reunion with capital records, but also has to face a possible reunion with seb after no contact with him for four, almost five, years part 4: seb comes back home as a surprise only to see that hanna and a little mysterious girl receive them... instead of y/n, who was supposed to finally meet him

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hritika13-tamboli · 6 months

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Jeon Jungkook Fic Recs List 2...

°`☆`°`☆`°`☆`°`☆`°`☆`°`☆`°`☆`°`☆`°`☆`°`☆`°`☆`°

Series :

Day by day || dilf!jungkook x best friend!reader (f) | single dad au || @hansolmates

Summary : a series of drabbles about two best friends raising a child together

Aim for the heart || hitman!jk x female reader | hitman au || @writemywaytoyourheart

Summary : Jeon Jungkook is an infamous hitman, known for his inability to fail at whatever job is thrown his way. At least, up until now. Y/n, a kind-hearted and full of life teacher, is his newest target. Jeon isn’t sure who would put a hit on this seemingly innocent girl, but fortunately, that isn’t his problem. All he has to do is pull the trigger.

Bedeviled || demon!jungkook x female reader | demon au || @writemywaytoyourheart

Summary : Money. Fame. Power. Love. Health. Courage. Strength. Humans will trade their souls for anything, unaware of how their selfish desires will fade away as they do; growing feeble and pathetic, until there's nothing left but the ghost of their youth, cowering in a corner until old age disposes of it. Convincing yourself to go to the Underworld? Easy... Walking through to get something that you've waited many years for, accompanied by a demon that will stop at nothing to make sure your soul belongs to him? Maybe not so much. Making deals with the devil is a tricky business; one you might not have realized could end in something much more painful than death itself if you make a single mistake.

Animal : Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 || Boxer Jungkook x Reader | boxer au || @cutaepatootie

Summary : The girl looked at the man who was in his 60s , lying on the hospital bed fighting for his life, he was trying to talk with her “I don’t want to go without telling something.” The girl frown looking at the old man “What do you mean, Mr. Jeon?” “I don’t want to die without telling someone about her,” he says, his voice softening when he says ‘her’. “I don’t want to disappear without the world knowing about her and what she did for me.” “About her?” the girl frowns. Maybe his daughter? His sister? The man turns his head and faces the girl, a soft, distant smile plastered on his lips. The gesture is nostalgic, sad, almost loving. “Y/N,” he murmurs, the name rolling off his lips softly, just as softly as the waves of the sea roll over the sand. “Her name was Y/N.”

Into the woods || goblin jungkook x reader | goblin au || @junqkook

Summary : getting hurt and stumbling upon a goblin in the forest leaves you completely at his mercy, though you aren’t sure if that’s necessarily a bad thing.

☆●●☆●●☆●●☆●●☆●●☆●●☆●●☆●●☆●●☆

One-shot :

The habits of the broken heart || Jungkook x reader | soulmate au || @softykooky

Summary : jungkook and you are soulmates. so says the matching crescent moons on both your wrists. however, things are never as easy as they seem, and you are quick to learn that falling in love with someone who does not believe in love is a one-way ticket to heartbreak. alternatively, “You still are, you know. Worth it.” You release a shaky breath. “But I was stupid to think that I am too.”

Something in the heir || knight!jungkook x palace woman!reader | non-royalty palace au || @hisunshiine

Summary : The king of your empire will be leaving soon to head off to fight against Soiros, a foreign enemy, and his seven knights of the order of Bangtania will lead the way. One of the seven, Jeon Jungkook, with his dark eyes and easy smile, is someone you long for. Children believe he has slain dragons, and adults think he’s killed over one thousand Soirian soldiers. Everyone thinks he is a heartbreaker, making his way through every unwed wench in the land...but all he wants is you.

Miracle of the season || Angel Jungkook x Fallen Angel F! reader | angel au | soulmate au || @cybrsan

Summary : Cast out of Heaven after a painful betrayal, you find yourself having to navigate the intricacies of human life without any guidance from the Creator or the family you have always known. Things only get worse as the holiday season reaches its peak, with reminders of the life you left behind everywhere you look. When a familiar face pops up, you aren’t sure whether to consider it a blessing or a curse.

Amortentia || Jungkook x reader | hogwarts au || @jungkxook

Summary : jungkook loves everything strawberry but the simple pleasure is always kept hidden, stowed away as if some hideous secret to protect the rumours that had built up around him — until a love potion outs him.

Black magic || human!jk x witch!reader (f) | magic uni! au || @hansolmates

Summary : a witch with an ambition for learning, you stumble across a crushing spell in the middle of the forbidden section. of course you have to try it out! what happens when the crushing spell not only has jeon jungkook crushing on you, but you crushing on him?

(Un)crushed || human!jk x witch!reader (f) | magic uni! au || @hansolmates

Summary : you’ve liked jungkook for the longest time, but you believe it’s time to cut the cord—literally

What's wrong? || Jungkook x reader | slice of life!au || @oddinary4bts

Summary : Reader overhears Jungkook talk to his friends and mention how she’s always clinging on to him and doesn’t let him breathe sometimes and that she’s annoying because she’s too loud and energetic. When he comes back home she acts the complete opposite and tries to avoid him without letting him know what’s going on, until he realises that he actually prefers her clingy and loud🥺

High demand || Dealer! Jungkook x Reader || @bunnyhugs77

Summary : modern day Romeo and Juliet

Coin toss ||Jungkook x reader detective | agency au || @yoondoze

Summary : you and jeongguk go way back, even before you were the menacing duo many knew you to be, even before he brought you into the mafia and left you there to join the city’s detective agency. a call for cooperation comes out of a common enemy, requiring the two of you to reconcile for one last mission.

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greenfiend · 3 months

Text

Will already has powers…

And I think I figured out exactly what they are.

This is a long theory post. Get some popcorn, get comfortable and be prepared to have some common fandom perspectives get flipped upside down. Nothing is as it seems.

(Trigger warning for some serious subject matters such as: homophobia, SI, m*rder, and CSA.)

Before we begin, let me remind you of what’s seen behind our boy in the photo above.

This post will, indeed, open that curtain. As Murray states, revealing what’s behind the curtain will cause some to feel unease. The unease may be caused by distaste of the theory overall or discomfort of the serious subject matters. So proceed with caution…

To begin, who is Will Byers?

A young boy who doesn’t fit in with the 1980s norms. A boy who escapes through fantasy.

In fantasy he’s a wizard… a cleric…

Outside of fantasy he’s an artist… a creator…

He’s a boy who’s different. He stands out from the rest, yet he manages to remain hidden for the most part. He’s “good at hiding”.

He is a part of a small loving family of three. His mother Joyce and his older brother Jonathan. His biological dad is estranged (more on him later).

Will has a few friends when we begin the show: Lucas, Dustin, and Mike. Mike and Will have a bond that’s different from the others (more on them later).

Will is a young boy who has experienced a lot of trauma, from bullying peers and an abusive parent to being victimized by supernatural forces. There’s a lot going on for him both internally and externally. These also happen to correlate with each other quite frequently. Suspiciously frequently in fact. Which leads me to this conclusion:

Will’s powers involve shaping the world around him based on his warped views of himself, his sexuality, and his mental health. He’s literally “reshaping the [external] world” to match his internal world; “remake it however [he] sees fit.”

Wow okay slow down there, you may be thinking. You’re really saying he has God like abilities? Well, sort of- but he lacks the insight or control over his own abilities at this point. Just bare with me here and keep an open mind as things will get stranger…

Moving away from the deeper aspects of his character, let’s look at something superficial: his name.

William “Will” Byers

The name William means “Determined” or “Resolute Protector” or “Strong Helmet”. Okay.

Byers means someone who lives by a cattle-shed. Hm. Okay.

But wait… let’s go back. What does the name “Will” mean?

Well… there’s multiple meanings but let’s focus on the highlighted one.

“Mental powers” you say? A name that literally means the ability to make others do things or make things occur? To bend things to one’s will…

When did he get these powers?

I’m not confident in the answer to this but I think he may have always had the powers. Just like his sexuality, he was born this way.

It’s very likely that he was specifically targeted back in the first episode because of this, then was possessed afterwards for the same reason.

I mean… for a villain who wants to “reshape the world”- why wouldn’t he want the powers of a boy with this ability?

As I believe his powers are intertwined with his sexuality, they began manifesting much more once puberty hit. Will likely has used his powers in seasons 1 and 2 but very subtly. In season 3, they become more obvious but still in the shadows (and unbeknownst to him…he suppresses it). They emerge in correlation with his blooming sexuality.

Season 3 is associated with possession, and the concept of free will is a frequent theme. The characters discuss how to look out for people acting out of the ordinary, out of character if you will. Any characters that come to mind?

Hopper was noticeably different this season. Coincidentally, the same season Will desperately held onto his childhood innocence, Hopper acted suspiciously immature.

Will wants El and Mike to break up. Hopper wants El and Mike to break up.

Mike explains to Lucas that Hopper “threatened” him while we immediately cut to Will. What’s Will doing here? He is moving DnD characters on a board. He is manipulating the characters here… playing dollhouse… being a puppet master. This little guy was so jealous of Mike and El that he influenced Hopper to try and break them up!

We are shown other little incidences of Hopper acting Will-like too. He suddenly buys a shirt that’s different than his usual wardrobe- “that’s a lot of color chef”. Will is known for wearing colourful clothes, that’s highlighted as a reason he is seen as “different” and is bullied for it. Hopper has trouble pronouncing an alcoholic beverage, saying “cheeanti” when he is well acquainted with alcohol. While Will is dressed up as Will the Wise, Lucas asks Will for permission to shower- then we cut to Hopper showering. Hopper acts very immature in his jealousy, just as Will does. Both Hopper and Will have big fights with Joyce and Mike in episode 3 of season 3. When El asks “how do we know when someone’s a host?” the scene immediately ends and we are shown Hopper. Will is using Hopper as a host! There’s even more evidence than this but we shall move on from here.

So wait, Will possessed Hopper? Well, not exactly. Hopper was under the influence of Will. Remember what Will said about the mindflayer: “He likes to hide. He only used me when he needed me.”

There was another character acting out of the ordinary this season…

That’s right! Mike.

I’ll come back to him more later but in the meantime, let me offer you this theory:

The rain scene. Now what if I said that Will was the one projecting onto Mike? What I mean is: Will’s internal thoughts “it’s not his fault I don’t like girls!” becoming a reality. Mike never meant to say this- it was all Will’s doing. His internalized homophobia became externalized. It’s oddly fitting too that in the episode with Will’s emotional breakdown, it’s raining.

The devastating depth of Will’s trauma

Within the show, we know our boy has experienced a lot of suffering, but subtext tells us it’s much worse than we see on the surface.

Will’s father is a homophobic and abusive asshole yes, but he’s more than that.

There’s an alarming amount of evidence that this man was not only emotionally and physically abusive but also sexually abusive to both Will and his older brother.

He likely was especially homophobic towards Will because he projected his actual perverse sexuality unto him. He likely dealt with his shame by blaming his innocent young son.

This leads us to: November 6th, 1983. Originally, I do believe that Will died by the hands of his own cruel father. His father likely picked him up from his bike ride home (his bike left behind), ended his life by strangulation, put him in the back of his trunk, and dumped him into Sattlers Quarry (where his fake body was found).

I believe somehow someone was able to reverse this (more on this later). The clock turned back and a new timeline was created. Will was then abducted and brought to the upside down. Instead of heaven or hell, he was in purgatory. Time came to an abrupt halt in the upside down… the exact same time his life ended in the original timeline. This is where timelines diverge.

Now Will’s purgatory is also his internal world, his own mind. The upside down manifests itself as this. It’s dark, cold, scary, lonely, and unsettling. He’s trapped in his own head, where he relives some of his most traumatic memories. We see him being victimized by the Demogorgon (an alternate title for Demogorgon is “The Deep Father” x ) and we also see him being assaulted (in a sexual manner) by vines.

By the time Will is rescued, he is struggling with suicidal thoughts (the song “When It’s Cold I’d Like to Die” tells us this). Poor boy has been in a deep dark depressive state. In season 2, his possession is a real manifestation of his PTSD.

The monsters represent how he views himself- he’s a monster. I’d argue his internalized homophobia is a lot worse than we actually think. It’s not just the homophobic environment around him, it’s also the ongoing rhetoric that the victim will inevitably become a perpetrator. As we see the common occurrence of toxic cycles continuing: he fears he has no agency and will become his own father.

Jonathan can relate, but because he’s solely attracted to women and thus more “normal”, it’s not as bad for him. But Steve really pushed his buttons when he implied that Jonathan is a creep like his father.

So yes, Will sees himself as a monster because of his attraction to men. Thus, he manifests the monsters in the monster show.

Speaking of his attraction to men…

Mike

Will loves Mike, he’s hopelessly devoted to him. Mike feels the exact same way. In the original timeline, Mike ultimately decides to jump into Sattlers Quarry to reunite with his love in death.

Will “jumps”, Mike jumps too. Luckily, a new timeline was created, giving both of them a second chance at life and love.

In the alternate timeline (the show), season 1 sees Mike leave no stones unturned in his search for his best friend. In season 2, we see how Mike normally is with Will. He’s so devoted! He’s always by Will’s side throughout everything. It’s beautiful! This is the authentic Mike.

So. What happened in season 3? Mike’s internalized homophobia?

Well partially I’m sure, but in this post I’m offering an alternate theory: Mike’s behavior is explained by Will’s internalized homophobia.

What do I mean by this?

Well as I said, Will reshapes the external world in the image of his internal world. He doesn’t believe he deserves Mike’s love. He’s scared. He’s been “inventing things” so he can push Mike away.

He obviously wants nothing more than to be with Mike, but due to his insecure attachment style and his internalized homophobia, he’s been the one pushing him away this entire time with his powers.

How has he been pushing Mike away exactly?

He’s been pushing Mike towards El.

Wait, didn’t he help break them up through Hopper?

Well, yes, but the sweet sensitive boy that he is likely felt bad, he regretted his actions after their rain fight fallout and wanted to give his “olive branch” and make amends.

Will believes the best way to do so is to push Mike and El back together. Like Lucas, Will gives Mike guidance by, essentially, being the master to his puppet.

(Above is actually Will’s apology to Mike.)

In Will’s mind, Mike is straight. He would never reciprocate Will’s feelings. So, Will believes that Mike should be happy with El then.

Will literally is putting words in Mike’s mouth here. Look how focused Will is in this scene, and how often Mike turns to him. It’s as though Will is mouthing to Mike exactly what words he (thinks) he should say.

Here Will is at it again! But Mike is resisting. The words aren’t able to come out. Will’s signal is poor, Mike couldn’t fully understand him.

So Will, as misguided but well intended as he is, attempts to bring Mike and El back together.

No wonder Mike couldn’t exactly remember his words…

He’s genuinely confused here!

This leads me to…

This foreshadowing shot tells us that Will is the director here. He fed Mike the script he had to read. So yes, I’m saying that Will did not just push Mike to say those words to El, he forced him to. Mike did not have any agency here.

Now, like me, you may be concerned about this. Will is bending Mike to his will? Won’t the audience then assume Will forced Mike to be gay with him? Pushing that toxic homophobic narrative?

Well that’s the thing- Will is not forcing a straight man to be gay. Will is trying to make a gay man straight! Ahhh trope subversion.

So I’m not going to delve too much into El in this post, because El and Will deserve their own post. But I do strongly believe they are much more connected than we think.

Vecna

Where does Vecna fit into this theory? Well for starters, I don’t believe Vecna himself is Will, he is definitely a separate entity. The major difference between Will and Vecna is that Will will no longer be restrained by his shadow, he will be able to differentiate himself from his shadow. Vecna has chosen to become one with the shadow.

Also, like Mike, Vecna is heavily associated with time. Vecna takes time away from others but Mike gives time. I do agree with the Wheeler and Creel being connected theories.

Time

Time is a major theme within the show. As I mentioned previously, Will possesses powers where he can manipulate his environment, his space. Will is space, but he is lacking the 4th dimension.

The upside down is frozen in time, essentially lacking time. It needs time, and it always will! That’s right- Mike is time.

That boy is frequently associated with it. Running late at the beginning of each season, mentions of “turning back the clock”, etc.

Mike “turned back the clock” and saved Will from his original fate. Similar to the scene where Mike jumps off the cliff and is saved by El, Mike reverses his fall by rewinding time. He went all the way back to the night of November 6th, 1983. Preventing the original timeline from occurring.

Mike gave Will the greatest gift of all- time.

Remember time heals all wounds. Wounds being the gates.

Together, Mike and Will are spacetime. Which is beautiful because not only does this mean they are equals in every way but they can literally create their own fantasy world together.

Conclusion

This show has a lot of layers. I tried to really dig deep but still I feel like I just scratched the surface. I will say this though: I am utterly confident that everything leads back to Will. He is the center of the entire show, like it or not. Without Will, there is no Stranger Things. Now of course this is not “the Byler show” but their relationship is incredibly important. Mike’s unconditional love and devotion to Will is a key aspect of the solution to the conflict. He makes Will “feel better for being different”. His love, along with his other friends and family, will inevitably lead to the upside down (Will’s mind) becoming a beautiful place. Instead of rot and decay, there will be blooming flowers and sunlight.

If you’d like to discuss any aspect of these theories with me, feel free! Like I said, I’m only scratching the surface here. Let me know your thoughts.

#byler #Will Byers #stranger things #stranger things theory #mike wheeler #byler theory

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warning-heckboop · 9 days

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@bunnieswithknives Did someone mention uhhhhhh Changeling Dev au?

A little bit of context on this au as I see it: Dev is a Gifted Changeling, meaning he did not replace an existing child and is Dale's one and only child, human or fae. Gifted Changelings are often given as part of a deal. I haven't exactly figured out the exact deal Dale made to get Dev yet, but I'm leaning towards it being something to do with making up for a Dale's own lost childhood due to being trapped by Vicky and yet never receiving a fairy of his own despite his suffering. A sort of "oops! we messed up, here's your compensation" gift child. You know. Standard.

The events of Season 1 of A New Wish are still canon and unchanged in this au. Dev would not show any signs of being anything other than human due to not yet reaching magical maturity, and he still receives (and loses) Peri as a god parent. Peri, along with his parents, have no idea about Dev's true identity. It's likely Jorgen does not know, either, as I imagine that a Gifted Changeling in modern times, when Changelings have long since been abandoned as a taboo practice, would be something very few fae know about, probably only the top of the top. As such, Dev still has his memory wiped by Jorgen after the Battle of Big Wand.

After the end of Season 1 is when the changes occur. While Changelings are not meant to start showing signs of their true nature until puberty in their teens, Dev, unfortunately, receives a bit of a jump start on his. Only 10, he still has not started magic puberty that would typically trigger the internal influx of magic necessary, but instead his transition was triggered by another large, external influx of magic, namely the restart of the Big Wand that he both caused and was present in Fairy World for.

The big issue is that Dev doesn't remember that, or anything about fairies at all anymore. So, needless to say, when all these bizarre and seemingly magical changes start occurring to him out of no where, he doesn't have a clue what's going on, and so he tries to hide it from everyone around him out of fear.

And that's about as far as I've gotten! Let me know if you have any comments/questions!

#art #my art #fop a new wish #Fop #fopanw #fop dev #dev dimmadome #fairly oddparents #Fairly oddparents a new wish #I don't have a name for this au yet so uhhhh #Gifted au #Let's go with that for now #Haha oops this was supposed to be a cute au wasn't it #It can still be cute!!! Eventually!!!#Right now though Dev is having a bad time #Blood #Body horror #Candy gore

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neil-gaiman · 1 year

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tw: suicide, pet loss, abuse, mental hospital

hey, mr. gaiman... i have a bit of an odd request, but it is a rather important one to me. i lost my best friend back in december. she was my dog and my esa (emotional support animal. for anyone who doesn't know what that is, esas are NOT service dogs and do not have public access rights. their only rights is they can be in non pet friendly housing without having pet rent charged and they have no special training. psychiatric service dogs and emotional support dogs are different.) but she was my whole world. we watched season 1 of good omens together, we watched doctor who together, and we watched coraline together. i always told her we'd watch season 2 together, so when it came out and she wasn't by my side watching it with me you can imagine how heartbroken i felt. i kept looking over at her spot on my bed and it just hurt me so much that i didn't get to experience it with the dog that i had by my side when i started. she was there by my side when i got out of my abusive relationship when i was 15. she was there by my side when i attempted suicide. she was there by my side when i got out of the mental hospital. she was there for me when i had nobody. she was my everything and i miss her more than anything in the world. today, when i came into my room to go to bed, i heard her snoring and i just broke. i started sobbing and fell to the floor begging her to come back to me. it sounded just like her. it was my fucking mini fridge. it was the most heartbreak i've felt since she passed away. after i watched season 2, i had planned on having her name in cursive added to her paw print tattoo on my left wrist. and then i thought about asking you to write her name in cursive, it would mean the world to me, having a bit of something that meant so much to me added to a tattoo of my best friend. have a few pictures of my angel as a thank you for even just reading this.

and here's where i was planning to have her name added to her tattoo.

thank you again for taking the time to read this, and i remember a few asks about trigger warnings so i added those on my own, because i also have a few triggers that i'd appreciate if we're taken into account💜

Of course I will. And I'm so sorry for your loss. (I'm just at the point where I'm ready to let a new dog into my life, a decade after my last one died. I still miss him.)

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mozart-in-a-gokart · 1 month

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My Thoughts On How TUA Season 4 Should Have Ended

Read it like a script outline maybe? Idk I never took screenwriting?

Way more detail below the cut:

Im so sorry if this whole thing comes across as very fan fictiony towards the end. I did my best.

::Here are some refreshers for some of the concepts I touch on at the beginning and where my logic comes from::

Note: I may have spelled Luther as Luthor throughout this and I realized this only after I was just about to post this so… bear with me.. thank you.

So we learned these things previously:

Season 1

Viktor was the trigger for the big world ending apocalypse

Season 2

Viktor was the trigger for the 3rd world war that ended the whole world

Season 3

Viktor has the ability to transfer marigold .We learned that from the whole storyline with Harlan in season 3.

Viktor had the ability to stop Allison from resetting the universe but chose-not to at the very end of the season.

Edited Addition: The Kugalblitz itself was the result of a grandfather paradox involving the umbrellas in the sparrow timeline. (I.E. You go back in time, you kill your grandfather, therefore you have no way of existing later.). Their parents were dead so the universe couldn’t handle these extra variables that shouldn’t and theoretically couldn’t have existed, so it collapsed in on itself.

Season 4

When the universe is reset all of the October 1st kids seem to exist because Lila also exists in the reset universe (we don’t see the sparrows unfortunately so this is a toss up but for the purposes of this I assume they exist we just never saw them.)

Edited to clarify a point: Lila’s parents are still alive in this timeline, meaning she was born to two parents with no marigold. This further backs up the idea that the same must be true for the rest of the Hargreeves siblings because if it wasn’t, one of two things would have had to have occurred. One: The marigold would have had to have been released. However, If it had the umbrellas would all have been born with their abilities, which they did not have at the end of season 3 in the new universe. Two: Another Kugelblitz would have occurred because they wouldn’t have parents and therefore would have had no explanation for existing in the new universe, causing yet another cascade failure.

Abigail has this insane amount of guilt that comes from creating both the Marigold and Durango.

The show seems to establish that in Abigail and his marriage, Reginald is the one who considers the children expendable and always has. Abigail seemed to care about them quite a bit (at least until the last episode)

Abigail manages at the last second to convince Reginald to die with her and let the cleanse happen because it’s THEIR FAULT all this is happening, not the umbrellas

When Lila and Allison’s family get on the train they do in fact transfer over and are inserted into the “correct” and “one true” timeline. They are essentially rewritten by the universe to allow them to exist there.

With all these things in mind this is what I think should have happened

Abigail should still have managed to convince Reginald that this was all their fault but it should have happened earlier in the episode.

Abigail should have put an emphasis on the fact that it isn’t the umbrellas fault at all and that they have a right to exist. That it’s the least they can do is try and help them figure a way out of this after everything they have been put through both in Abigail’s name, and by Reginald himself.

Reginald finally grows as a person, accepts this, and they both go with Viktor on the crusade to save Ben.

While on the journey Abigail learns about Viktors ability to transfer Marigold from one person to another and she LATCHES onto this.

Abigail and Reginald have a discussion about a plan that involves transferring the Marigold to both of them of Viktor can’t manage to convince Ben.

(Maybe there’s a scene similar to season 2 where Viktor talks with sparrow Ben in his mind. Sparrow Ben ends up making the point that they have to let him go. HES NOT THEIR BEN. He NEVER has been. They have to let him go. Let him do this selfish thing. He misses HIS family. His SPARROWS. Let him die.)

This is a good end IMO for sparrow Ben because he isn’t out Ben. We’ve all been talking about Ben being Ben for so long we forget this Ben is literally A DIFFERENT PERSON. He sees the umbrellas as his family’s murderers. It’s tragic but, I can’t see this Ben ever truly growing to love the umbrellas the way he seemed to with the sparrows

With that Obviously the plan to stop the cleanse by convincing Ben falls apart. Plan A never works.

They all would congregate back at the dilapidated Hargreeves mansion.

They all still talk about options and Five still says that the only way to end this once and for all is by destroying all of the marigold (Instead of being all defeated about it I think he should be angry and wired when he’s talking about it. I hate this drowned kitten looking guy. Where’s my embodiment of the it’s always sunny Pepe Silva Meme)

While they all argue about trying to use the subway to save themselves and Five doesn’t think it will work Reginald steps forward and tells them all to be silent.

They all force of habit stop and stare at him.

He says that he and his wife may have a way to save them all.

Klaus, Luther, Diego, and Five are all against letting him talk

Lila, Allison and Viktor are willing to let him talk what harm could he do now at the end.

He asks Five about the subway and if he’s right that you leave it at the exact moment in time you entered. Five agrees as far as he knows that’s correct.

Reginald and Abigail ask Five to blink all of them there, right now so they have a bit more time to explain.

Five says no not until they tell everyone what’s going on. He’s had enough running around and beating around the bush. Reginald explains things now.

Reginald does.

He explains that their bodies in this particular universe were not made originally of marigold. They were just born here. So theoretically, if they no longer had Marigold in their system. The Umbrellas themselves won’t need to be erased. They could attempt to escape with their family.

Luther points out that they don’t know how to extract the marigold.

Viktor reminds them that he can transfer it but he doesn’t know how good he is at it. Plus he needs to transfer it somewhere. He can’t just release it.

Reg : “That is correct. You would need to transfer the marigold to another vessel. It won’t work if it’s not in something living.”

Diego: “What’re you saying?”

Five: “He’s saying one of us has to stay behind Diego.”

Allison: “So what? You’re asking one of us to volunteer? To choose to be erased?”

Everyone starts up angrily shouting at Reginald who is interrupted by Abigail.

Abigail: “None of you would stay behind.”

Five: “Elaborate?”

Abigail: “Five you blink everyone to the subway. While we’re there Viktor transfers all of the marigold from all of you to Reginald and myself. All of you board the train. We will stay behind.”

Everyone is silent and staring

Klaus: “you’re cool with this Dad?”

Reginald: “I am not your father young man. I am Not your Reginald Hargreeves. I am however, a Reginald who knows how to respect hard work, which you all seem to have been doing for a great many years trying to stop exactly this thing from occurring. I understand that my wife and I helped set this in motion and I am nothing if not accountable.”

Luther: “wow… “

Abigail: “Let us do this?”

Lila is immediate in her agreement

Five doesn’t like the idea of this but it’s all they’ve got.

They all start teleporting as the Bennifer Cleanse beast starts shattering the windows to the house

We watch time seem to slowdown because the creature understands that the marigold isn’t “in this dimension anymore” it doesn’t know where to look.

We watch a subway staircase form in the center of the room and see tendrils of the Flesh Creature winding around it but never down in it because it doesn’t have a way into the subway. (You have to blink there)

We have a moment where the Umbrellas link hands in a circle and glow (like we do every season. It’s tradition)

We go around the circle through each of the umbrellas faces and watch the marigold pulled from them slowly. And transferred into Reginald and Abigail who are standing in the center we see it leave them and they all collapse

Viktor still has a little bit left in him and says he doesn’t have the strength to transfer it

Everyone looks defeated at that

Diego and Lila while they’re looking at one another

Allison and Klaus are hugging one another

Luther and Five collapse on the bench

Viktor says it’s alright. That he’s gonna stay. He’s gonna choose to stay and be part of the solution this time. He owes it to them for ending the world three separate times (He’s gonna choose to save everything and not cause it)

They all hug him at the door to the train and say “goodbye”

Five is keeping the train door open by standing in front of them

Klaus hugs Viktor and thanks them for being the only normal one of the bunch and keeping them down to earth

Klaus: and hey! Don’t sell yourself short! That third time wasn’t really YOUR fault. Allison was the one who—

Allison shoves Klaus out of the way and into the train.

Allison and Viktor hug the longest out of everyone.

Allison: “I’m gonna miss you so much.”

Luthor picks Viktor up and spins them around : “I’m sorry for not being a better brother. You deserved more.”

Viktor: “ make it up to me by finding Sloane in the next world and naming your first born Viktor.”

Luther is laughing and nodding boarding the train

Diego shakes Viktor’s hand and apologizes for blaming them for so much in previous years. “I was really closed off and I should have been better. I love you brother.”

Viktor: I love you too Diego”

Diego’s holding back tears as he boards.

Five is the last to say good bye

The two are just staring at one another quietly

Five: “You know… I never thanked you…”

Viktor: “For what?”

Five: Not giving up on me the first time

Viktor is confused

Five: “When I disappeared years and years ago. When I came back pogo told me about the Sandwiches and the lights and everything. I know it’s too late, but I’d be remiss if I never said it. So, thank you. For not giving up on me.”

Viktor smiles at him.

Viktor: “I guess I should say the same.”

Five cocks his head

Viktor: “You never gave up on us. Every single time the world was ending. You never gave up on saving us. You drove yourself insane trying to save us all and we never thanked you.”

Five scoffs

Five: “Guess we’re both thankless assholes…”

Viktor: “Nah”

Viktor shakes their head and pulls five in for a hug

Viktor: “Thank you for everything Max.”

Five slowly hugs them back

Five: “Don’t call me that”

Viktor pulls back

Viktor: I’m sacrificing myself for your asses. I can call you whatever I want.”

Five steps back

Five: “Goodbye Viktor”

They give all wave at Viktor as the doors start to close

Suddenly an umbrella Lodges itself in the doorframe and everyone including the audience is shocked

Abigail has stopped the doors from closing

Viktor whips around to see Reginald right behind him

Reginald: “Must I do everything around here.”

Reginald, now with marigold and Lila’s abilities of Mirroring, mirrors Viktors ability and removes the last of the marigold from him before pushing Viktor through the doors and onto the train.

Abigail lets go and the train doors close leaving all of the Umbrellas and extended family shaken

Abigail waves at them as the train starts pulling away and we see Reginald tip his cap to them

Reginald: Farewell Children of the Umbrella Academy.

Abigail: You were Extraordinary.

The train pulls away and we see Reginald and Abigail take each other by the arm and walk towards the exit of the subway

The camera is frozen in place and we watch them ascend the stairs. We hear the scream of the The Cleanse Creature echo the the subway stars start shaking

Tiles crack and light starts flashing from the stairway the ceiling begins to cave in and we transition to the umbrellas on the train

Viktors been helped up and they’re all dazed and confused just waiting for “it” to “happen” whatever “it” is

We get a similar scene to the original scene where they’re letting the cleanse consume them

During this scene is when Five explains that they will all likely forget one another. Because their parents are in all different parts of the country. They will have never met. It’s a hard reset.

This makes all of them sad (OBVIOUSLY) so we get the same cleanse conversation as more of a we don’t know if we will ever see each other again and if we don’t I just wanna say this to you all kind of conversation

We still end it with Klaus saying “You know, I just wanna say I love you guys… but you are all assholes.”

Everyone laughs and as they’re laughing music swells

We get a cut of the subway flashing colors because the reset is happening

We get flashes of color washing over each of them with the various scenes of them from previous seasons and those timelines disappearing

We flash through them in order of number

Luthor

Diego

Allison

Klaus

Five

Lila (as six instead of Ben roll with me I promise I have a reason)

And Viktor

The final flash is a long shot of all of them smiling in the train car and the camera zooms down it and into the same wormhole at the end that leads to the “real” timeline

We cut to black

There’s beats of silence (yes multiple)

The audience is thinking “Are we ending it here? Is it gonna be ambiguous? Are we about to see credits?

No.

Slowly a stereo fades into view we’re staring at it

Someone walks in front of it wearing a very familiar jean coat

We hear the stereo button click and The song “I Think We’re Alone Now” starts playing

We watch Viktor pull a woman who looks very much like sissy into their arms and they start to dance laughing loudly. There’s a pure white violin in the corner that looks like it’s been used so often and so long but so lovingly. We zoom out the window out the window and see this is on a farm somewhere we focus on the windmill wheel turning

It transitions to the wheel of a beat up old car arriving at the park. We watch Lila and Diego’s kids stumble out of the car holding skate boards and bubble wands. They’re older than they were. Lila shakes her fist at them from the passenger window. She’s shouting at them. You can hear her shouting be careful! And then shouting more in Punjabi

We don’t see who’s in the drivers seat but we zoom in on Lila’s fist and it transitions to another fist. This one gripping a paper and shaking it as it moves across a classroom towards the front.

We follow the page as it’s placed on a desk then pan up to a figure in a suit writing complex equations clearly having something to do with physics or rocket ships in chalk across a board

On the desk is a nameplate that comes into view only when the figure turns around to address the room and we see very clearly it’s an adult Five. The nameplate reads Maximillian Murphy PHD.

He’s addressing the class and telling them to get their assignments in by Monday if they want input before the final assessment. Mrs. Murphy will take them from you if you have them now. He gestures to the woman who set the paper down on his desk in the transition who comes around the desk and sits on it. She’s wearing a polka dot blouse. He’s finally found a real Delores.

The two smile at one another and we pan up to the ceiling and zoom in on a vent grating which transitions to the front grill of a bus

We see muddy shoes scramble up the steps and cut to the inside of the bus. We see the figure only from the back as they scramble down the middle of the bus clutching a rucksack wearing very old fashioned Amish clothes. We only see them from the front when finally fall into a seat next to a guy reading a book wearing dog tags who looks like he’s just getting back from deployment somewhere

We watch Klaus turn and greet Dave in the modern day and hear them have the same conversation we heard on the bus in Vietnam on this bus in the middle of nowhere USA

We transition from Klaus laughing here to a time a bit in the future. Klaus laughing wearing clothes more like him and pulling Dave down a street past a shop window full of movie memorabilia we hear him saying something about wanting a good view of the take off. Trust him just come this way’

We zoom in on a script that transitions to one that lands on a coffee table. We watch Ray pick it up and Allison settle herself on a chair near by. We watch and hear them talk about this new pilot for this new show And how “it’s a good one I can feel it” “okay. Let’s do this then.” In the background we can see acting awards on a shelf. Alison isn’t just a commercial actress. She has been in things and is good at it. Claire comes barreling down the stairs and jumps between them on the couch. “Wheres the remote! It’s starting!”

We see Allison and Ray lean in forgetting the scripts

We pan across the room and it all melts away into a car radio

We see a hand turn it up and we hear it talking about the first launch nasa’s funded on a while. Space stuff.

We follow the figure who turned up the radio as they lean out of the car and gesture wildly as Lila and the kids to come over here quickly!

You see all of them start sprinting to the car to listen.

We watch through the front windshield of the van Lila climb in and kiss Diego. The kids all pile in and stare at the radio in Awe.

We get a shot of Diego turning up the radio dile which transitions to a gloved hand adjusting diles on what is clearly the console of a rocket ship. We pan up and it’s LUTHOR. Space boy ready for take off

We hear the the count down of a take off start over the last portion of “I think we’re alone now” by Tiffany

The screen gets smaller until Luthor is in a neat box in the middle of the screen as we count down characters are added to the screen in their own boxes all tuning in to watch this launch

Ten - Sloan with a little girl on her lap pointing at the tv from the couch in a house that is so clearly hers and Luthors. She’s mouthing wave bye to daddy! It’s your daddy! Bye space boy!

Nine - Dot, Herb, the handler, and someone with a gold fish print Hawaiian shirt (AJ for sure), dressed to the nines are sitting in a backyard with a radio on listening and laughing

Eight - hazel and Agnes turn up the volume of a Tv at a doughnut shop they both clearly own. Hazel is behind the counter and Agnes’s waiting tables. The few tables seated have people we recognize there. Cha cha. Eudora and Detective Beaman.

Seven - Viktor and Sissy watching the tv over their living room couch

Six - Grace stopping with a baby carriage at a store front filled with tvs. Her baby on her hip pointing at the tv mouthing the the word rocket to the baby who giggles

Five - Five, His Wife and a bunch of other professors or huddled around an old tv in a lab in a physics building. one of the scientists is holding an open notebook with sketches of the comic characters in it. It’s Gabriel Bá. You can see him mouthing “come on come on!”

Four - Klaus and Dave sitting on a blanket on a hill near the nasa bad along with a ton of other people on blankets pointing and holding binoculars. Gerard way and his wife are among them.

Three - Allison, Ray, and Claire all leaning in to watch eagerly

Two - Diego Lila and all their kids leaning in to hear

One - every box but the ones with the Umbrellas go black.

It’s a close up of all of their eyes. They all read as excited. Looking up towards the future. “the beating of our hearts is the only sound”

All those squares go black on some tambourine beats

Houston we have liftoff.

Credits roll.

END CREDITS SCENE.

A close up of Ben’s eyes. We zoom out. We’re back on that train in Korea. We see him frown a second as he realizes something. He puts the book down a second. He looks out the window. Looks at his phone. There are text messages that read “dude where are you? We’re watching the launch without you!. How’d you miss this?!”

You see him realize.

In Korean “Motherfu—“

We cut to black again and cut him off.

The End

Is it cheesy? Maybe? But you know I think we deserve a little cheesy.

237 notes · View notes

rcksmith · 2 years

Text

Untouchable - Five Hargreeves

You can find the 2 request here: anonymous 1, anonymous 2.

Resume: The villain falls in love with the girl.

Trope: “ Who did this to you?” “Touch her and you are dead.” “i´ll find you in every lifetime”

Couple: Five Hargreeves /Fem!Reader.

Warnings: A LOT OF ANGST, swearing, mention of death, blood, fight between the Hargreeves and the Sparrows,a little enemies to lovers in the end, fluff, SMUT, degrading talk.

Word count: 15k.

A/N: Spoiler from season 3.

OMG THIS IS HUGE JAHHSHDAHSDJAHDHND it turned out bigger than i expected.

Because I have a lot of requests in my box, I compile orders that are similar and put together, but I took care to added all the elements that were asked for individually, and made sure that all ideas were respected and written down.

We not tolerate any pedophilia here!! I write about Five with their 20s. I write the same about the characters of Harry Potter, MHA and others fandoms.

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are OPEN. Love you ❤️

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Honor comes from the Latin honoris. Indicating a person who lives with honesty and probity, basing their way of life on the dictates of morality. A principle that leads someone to have a righteous, virtuous conduct, which allows to enjoy a good reputation in society.

Five Hargreeves thought of himself as a callous man with no honor and, somehow, able to drown out the voice of morality in his head. He was very knowledgeable about literature and history, and his physics and math skills could surpass Tesla's, but philosophy for him was a bunch of weak principles and dictated by people who didn't really know the world, who didn't pass 1% of what he passed by, who did not see what he saw. Not even Socrates, Plato or Machiavelli had known the worst of humanity like him, the truth about realities. A big part of his existence came down to surviving, fighting, winning, crushing everything that threatened his life.

His cynical outlook on life led him to pragmatism, and he knows that if he wants something done, he will have to do it himself.

His actions were more about getting things done than about displaying a display of rebellion or power. However, Five was not afraid of pain or even killing. He didn't mind being the author of the worst massacres if it meant going back to his family.

Five Hargreeves don't give a damn about being the villain of the story. He did what had to be done.

It was why, when The Handle ordered him to carry out the death sentence of a Duke and Duchess in 1730, Five did not question or hesitate.

Even though in the back of his mind, in a very small part of his brain, the question arose as to why people from such an old and outdated date, he did nothing about it, much less pulled the thread from the ball of yarn that would trigger a series of questions in a row. His job was not to ask why, to investigate step by step, to go through file by file. Five wasn't on The Commission to know the reason for each death, he was on the execution.

So he went, letting the suitcase unfold before his eyes an ancient era, from a faraway time, introducing him to carriages, flowing dresses, gigantic balls. And, as much as some people considered that era poetic, Five never liked lack of practicality.

So he killed the couple as quickly as possible, determined to escape from the need to spend more hours in that old-fashioned place.

It was like any other murder he had committed over the years on The Commission; he came, killed, and left. No looking back, no questions, no hesitation. Drowning in the deepest wave any second feelings that might have submerged, ensuring his emotions were chained very well at the bottom of the ocean.

It was easy, normal, routine. He was once again the villain, and could sleep very well the night with that.

But something began to change gradually in the atmosphere, in the air.

On some mornings, it was as if Five's hands were tingling for no apparent reason, eager to catch up something he had no idea what it was. On some afternoons, his heart vibrated in his chest, like a ground being punished by an earthquake, shaking his balanced state of mind. And, on some dawns, Five's mouth was as dry as the Sahara desert, thirsty for something that not even the coldest water could appease.

Wherever he was the air stayed suddenly thin, stuffy. And sometimes, in the middle of a mission, the wind seemed to blow in only one direction, hitting Hargreeves' back as if pushing him to go in a path. At those moments, his heart returned fluttered in his chest, as if he knew that one north was calling him and was that where he needed to go.

Everything inside Hargreeves began to be affected by strange reactions, spurred by banal, mundane events.

An in a few seconds, if Five stood completely still, silencing his thoughts and hollowing out any inner voices, he could hear something in the wind calling for him. Small seconds that swept away any balance that one day he ever had.

Five Hargreeves was going through a peripeteia, and he had no idea what was causing it.

What hell is going on?

It was wen, on an afternoon where the sun hid with shame among the dark gray clouds, The Handler gave him another murder.

In 1750.

His soul shuddered inside him in that second, echoing through his bones, keeping Five's egyptian green eyes fixed on the paper in his hands, unable to look away from the bold numbers that indicated the date of his next mission.

The icy breeze ruffled his dark hair, but he didn't move. There seemed to be something important and unspoken in the air, and this time, the voice calling his name on the wind grew softly louder. Now, it didn't seem to come from the back of his mind anymore, but from a place far away.

Five looked around, in an instinctive movement in the pathetic and vain attempt to find the source of that voice.

Nothing. As always.

“Five.” The Handler snapped her fingers in front of his face “May I have your precious attention?" The irony didn't go unnoticed, but his eyes flickered to hers. “As I was saying, the time and place of this mission is strictly important. Viscount Sebastian needs to be killed in his office at midnight, in the middle of his daughter's debut ball, not a minute less and nowhere else.”

Hargreeves gave a nod. Not because he had devoted all of his attention to her, just because he wanted her to stop talking. Much of his concentration was still on the way his body and the hemisphere around him behaved. Mission times and places were standard, no need to focus on this nonsense and listen to someone reiterate the rules as if Five were a child. He was 26 years old, a child was the last thing he was.

Something seemed to be happening, occult like a current that rattles under the sea. And the knowledge that he couldn't see the bottom of the ocean unnerved every cell in his body. Hargreeves couldn't stand things he couldn't perceive, understand how it works, take it apart and put it back together again.

This time, when Five returned to the eighteenth century, with 20 years having passed in that time after his visit and only 2 weeks for him, what hit him first was not the impracticality, the carriages, the big dresses. But the wind. Strong, cold, bringing with it the voice who called his name for weeks, now loud and clear.

The dark strands of his body prickled, and he could feel his heartbeat in his throat. Suddenly, anxiety snaked through his body like venom, stirring every fiber in his body, pumping something into his veins that made his blood heat like lava. An emotion he couldn't name what it was.

In the last mission, Five had a string of complaints about the way the black waistcoat squeezed the white linen shirt over his abdomen, and how heavy the straight-cut coat felt heavy under his shoulders. But in this time, he wasn't bothered with the clothes he had to wear so as not to attract attention and go unnoticed. Now, with his heart pounding in his chest, his throat dry and the constant feeling that he had to be somewhere urgently, his clothes were the last things on his mind.

It was an emotion that squeezed the pit of his stomach, made his hands itch and his body shot with an adrenaline that screamed that he needed to move. That he had a more important place to be. All the sensations he'd felt leisurely over the weeks now came back with absurd force, as if he were getting close to the source of it all.

What was happening?

The moon in that far away era shone sovereignly in the sky, blessing the houses, carriages and large mansions with cascades of distilled light in the purest color of silver.

Las time, the feeling that came over Five was to get out of there as quickly as possible. But now, looking around in search of the source of the voice calling him in the wind, the last thing on his mind was leaving.

His watch still read eight o'clock, but the sensation was like he was already late.

The most practical plan was to stay hidden somewhere near the mansion where the ball was being held. Avoiding crowds, witnesses, minimizing risk and being a shadow. As always did. The most rational thing to do was to stay away from that place at all costs, until the inevitable arrived and he was forced to enter through one of the windows.

He should have done it. But he didn't.

Just as a sailor follows a siren's song on the high seas, Five followed that voice on the wind. His brain screamed for him to seek a hiding place, but his soul rebelled with an absurd ferocity, ricocheting tremors through all his bones and ordering his legs to follow a path his conscious did not know. His whole mind was confused, but his soul carried a certainty that no other living being had ever had in they life.

With no other option, stunned by the sensations in his own body, he found himself walking towards the front door of the only place he was supposed to avoid until midnight.

If Five Hargreeves had to describe what was happening to his five senses, he would say that his vision was mildly blurred, as if were searching for focus. The smell was of climax and the ambient sounds were drowned out by his own heartbeat. It was like being there in flesh and blood, but not in soul.

He didn't focus on the details of the world around him, but he knew when he finished climbing the front steps. He couldn't focus on the conversation around him, but he knew that a few people were walking beside him.

His mind saw everything, but processed nothing.

It was a mistake not to be 100% aware of the environment, not to study each individual's body language, not to constantly calculate the odds of a move going wrong. But... it was as if something prevented him from emerging to the surface.

Five didn't respond when the butler greeted him at the entrance to the great hall, but looked around as the wind from outside hit his back and his name rang in his ears once more.

It was a female voice. Now he could tell.

Going deeper into the hall, the melody of the orchestra invaded his ears while thousands of people, talking, dancing and drinking, took his view. Everything resembled a blur on a painting, the sounds were still muffled as if Five were at the bottom of the sea, and the smell transitioned between flowers, feminine perfume and poetry.

Five Hargreeves was a pragmatic, cynical and austere man. Everything that made up his being was based on rationality, laws of physics and mathematical concepts, he wasn't oscillated by tender things and he certainly wasn't carried away by things of the heart or soul. He always followed what rationality dictated. Until now.

Until now.

Like a violin string that ruptured, Hargreeves was gripped by the feeling that something very important was about to happen. Something that would not only change his existence forever, but change him for eternity. This fact stared him at back, bold, warm and as inevitable as the setting sun. And very hair on his body stood on end at once while everything inside him pulsed with a brutality that could shake his bones.

Now, the sound of the orchestra was drowned out by the soundtrack of his life, which was coming closer to apex by the second. It was like being submerged in a slow-motion, in a moment that preceded an momentous event.

As magnets are pulled one by the other in an impassable way, his eyes, as if they already knew where to look, were drawn to a figure among the others who danced in the middle of the hall.

You.

Was like an explosion. Loud and brutal. He suddenly submerged from the bottom of the sea, bewildered, desperate, out of breath. The stupor released itself all at once, bringing his mind back to the reality. Instantaneously, nothing was blurred anymore, sounds weren't muffled, and he abruptly returned to his conscious state. But his soul was not so lucky. Like being whipped by live eels, his heart pounded in his chest with such fury that he leaned over forward millimeters, his throat was drier than the Egyptian desert and now his hands itched in a hellish, bestial, uncontrollable way.

Five Hargreeves has released himself from a wave of numbness only to be hit by a tsunami of sensation.

His eyes were seeing everything clearly now, but he couldn't take his attention away from the female figure dancing in the middle of the room, her bouffant gown swirling gracefully across the floor as if deities were blowing the fabrics.

There were a lot of people around him, in front of him, behind him, but Five Hargreeves only had eyes for you.

In an insane, magical and inexplicable logic, Five had the purest certainty that it was your voice that called him in the wind, that was by the desire to touch your skin that his hands itched. Five would never be able to explain it to other people, but at that moment, there was nothing more concrete on Earth, in physics and science, than the certainty that was because of you that his soul felt, so many times, that he should be somewhere else.

Like the indubitability that you need oxygen to breathe, touching your skin has become just as indispensable. It was a matter of needing, something that now not only itched his hands, but corroded the bones in his fingers.

There was no reason for all those absurd feelings, Five had never even seen you before. But rationality had no space in that moment.

There, in that rift between the past, future and parallel realities, there was no discernment, lucidity, judgment. It was a hideaway free of any cohesiveness, with the smell of romance, an atmosphere full of emotion, passion and poetry. A distant era that allowed, for the first time in many years, that the soul of Five Hargreeves to take control of his body.

He moved, one step after another, his focus petrified on you. With each centimeter closer to your body, the more he felt able to breathe again, relieving the brutal anxiety that had been beating him for weeks, giving a truce to the martyrdom that lacerate him day after day without even him even knowing why.

You had finished your dance, clapping along with the other guests for the orchestra that started the new melody, this time more lyrical.

Your hair, the tone of which seemed to be the personification of poetry, of art, was tied in a bun that allowed a few strands to fall under your neck, the skin of your bust was speckled with a few little droplets of sweat, the perfect amount to glisten under the yellowish light of the candles in the chandelier, making a divine, almost celestial aurora radiate from you. The dark blue gown referred back to the night sky in its greatest splendor, highlight your full breasts at the straight neckline and opening at the hips in a skirt that preached the illusion of you being floating across the hall. Your lips were a red that Five had never seen in his life. A red that seemed to exist only to serve you, enhancing the color of your eyes.

You were like a mirage. An oasis in the farthest desert. One of those paintings that people come from all over the world to see in person, capable of sweeping, taking they breath away, making they cry for having to live with the burden of never having the possibility of knowing you in life.

The romantic period was going on in that century, society was tired of trends in intellectual thinking, rationalization, industrialization and the veneration of science. People longed for an escape into emotionally charged images and fantastical fiction in the visual arts and literature. And Five Hargreeves was certain that you were one of the greatest inspirations of this movement. It was so clear that you were the influence of John Waterhouse's paintings, sweeping the hearts of artists and illuminating poets. Lord Byron was thinking of you when he created the short lyric poem “She Walks in Beauty”, completely fascinated by you.

That thought shuddered Five's soul even more. And an acidic emotion rose in his throat and burned his eyes. In his chest was injected the feeling that he was facing one of the greatest beauties in history, the person the poems and paintings were based on, the inspiration for so many names of literature and art that would become renowned.

There, in front of him, was more than a person. It was a piece of history, art, literature, a beauty that was immortalized and that would be admired even after centuries. Five had already gone to different times in the past, but nothing touched his soul as much as now. As much as you.

Five Hargreeves went in your direction like a sailor following a siren's song across the seven seas.

You were relatively distracted when he got to you. Lungs catching breath from the last dance, body preparing for the next, your mind was on that ballroom but your heart was far away. It was universally true that girls your age should revel in balls like this one. Full of potential husbands, dancing and music, governed by a perfect night for falling in love. You came to like it in the past, but now, after so many similar events, everything didn't have the same magic anymore.

You've heard enough stories - filled with adrenaline, pirate ships and dangerous waters - to crave adventure in your life. It was also noticed that you spent too much time with your books, and that the consequence of spending so many hours in the fictional world brought you very high standards for men and love. The whispers through the darkened streets were that you would end up a spinster. Since you took no interest in any gentleman who courted your hand.

In your defense, it wasn't your fault. The men in your reality were terribly...tasteless.

That was until he showed up.

You don't know where he emerged, or what lineage he was from, much less his name. But he came towards you like that was more important than breathing. In a virile, perfect posture. As if he knew all the secrets of the world and was able to show you them.

One of the first things you noticed were the eyes. The room was partially dark, lit only by the flickering candles in the candelabra, but the darkness only made his eyes clearer. Intense greens. Of such a pure emerald tone that it shone like a mystical cat, calling you to sink in his greenish sea. The stranger had hair as black as midnight, which fell softly and romantically over a face with firm features; jaw as sharp as a razor and a nose full of masculine personality. Although was well dressed, all his clothes, with the exception of the white linen shirt, were as dark as the strands of his hair, something unusual among the sophisticated gentlemen who were invited.

Looking at that gorgeous face, you were left speechless. The deities had been generous to this man, gifting him with bold, aristocratic features and iris as green as Egypt's most precious jewels. The mystery and secrets contained within in those eyes were a fascinating contrast.

“Can I have this dance?” Just a sentence.

He didn't introduce himself, he didn't say who he was. He just dropped that sentence as if it was the only thing he really cared to say.

The gravity of his words made your heart flutter. What a beautiful voice that man had. With a provocative huskiness, a touch of superb, as if he were an oracle at his peak in ancient Greece. The sound seemed to seep into your body and run through you like warm honey.

The truth was, you had reserved the dance for another gentleman, but in that second, you couldn't care less.

“Of course, milord.” That's what you said, accepting the hand he extended to you.

Never taking his eyes off yours, an unfamiliar sensation washed over your mortal body and engulfed everyone around you. You wondered if it was just the stuff of your imagination or if he too felt the electricity whip through his body as he positioned you closer to dance.

Single women weren't allowed to touch men's hands if you weren't wearing gloves, and that rule had never bothered you. Until now.

Until be affected by an insane, visceral desire to feel that man's skin. Of experiencing the heat radiating from his hand against yours, of feeling those white fingers, slender and pale, holding your denude skin. You've never been touched by a man without a layer of clothing intervening. No brushing of elbows, no bumped of fingers, no errant caresses. And you wondered what it was about that man that made you aware of this deprivation. That stranger radiated secrets in an inexplicable but extremely palpable way in the air and you wanted to feel the touch of mystery on your skin more than you wanted to breathe. A will as strong as fear, as intense as hunger.

Your soul screamed in frustration because of the dress when his hand cupped your cover waist. In a touch so firm it only existed in the romance novels you read. Your heart raced, your breath disappeared, and you didn't notice when you rested your hand on his shoulder and your feet began to follow the rhythm of the waltz.

It was pathetic the intensity of your emotions for a man you had just met and didn't even know his name. But, it was like you'd found something didn't even know you'd lost.

Well… if it was the lack of knowledge of his name that was making things a little difficult…

“Aren't you going to tell me your name? Mine is Y/n”

Your voice, sweet as molasses, velvety as suede, made the hairs on the back of Five's neck stand on end. He recognized the timbre now, he had already heard you calling for him in the wind, but nothing surpassed hearing you from inches away.

This was one of those moments where, if you asked Five why he was doing this, he couldn't answer. He couldn't find any logical answers to his actions, reactions, thoughts. But, once again, this rift in space and time was an environment free of rationality. He didn't need this here. He felt he didn't need to. Not when had you in his arms.

A name…

Five Hargreeves was the name of a villain. Someone who would carry on his shoulders to the grave the weight of the thousands of souls he killed. Someone whose hands were marked, eternally, with thick, hot blood. A proof that his destiny was traced directly to hell. His name was the personification of a freak created to be a hero, an orphan in the apocalypse, a man who belonged nowhere in the timeline, someone without family for many decades.

He looked at the hands that held you. The hands of a serial killer. And then he looked at you, full of beauty, life, happiness and innocence. It was like committing a crime against nature to hold something so pure in such infamous, disgraced, death-scarred hands. And something inside he twisted with something like pain…disgust, for the fist time.

His soul didn't want to hold you in the hands of Five Hargreeves.

Five Hargreeves was the villain. And he didn't want to be that man right there.

His mouth, which looked so beautiful yet so dangerous, softly approached the foot of your ear, while the body of you two continued to follow the steps of the waltz. "We don't need names here."

A current of electricity slammed into your body like a whiplash from a live eel, raising goose bumps on parts of your skin you didn't even know you had. My goodness, it was a sin for a single man to have that much charm.

Sensible young women would have turned away at once. Practical girls who appreciated rationality, sincerity and transparency, who had no estimate for games, mystery and sensuality, would have rolled their eyes. But you were not sensible, practical or appreciative of the good customs of the epoch.

You were romantic, hungry for a good charade, adventure. And that man seemed to be built by those two things.

The world was just a shapeless blur, other people were no more than wandering silhouettes, and the atmosphere was enraptured by the flickering orange light of the candles in the candelabra. The smell was of poetry, romance and freedom, which intoxicated the brain and alcoholize any common sense. Was like a magical place in the middle of space and time, a rift that allowed just being. Time passed slowly, as if dancing together with you two.

‘One second can change many things...’

Just as Five could hear his father's voice saying 'I told you so' during his years in the apocalypse, he could hear his words now.

‘you can crumble empires, win battles...’

Five swirled you around before pulling you into his arms once more, his heart pounding with each passing moment. Neither of you realized it, but every second you spent together, every step, more messed up the timeline.

You smiled full of romance and magic as he leaned you back, his hand firm on your spine, bringing you to the surface and returning to dance around the hall with the waltz that dandle yours bodies.

‘you can fall in love.’

With every strong step the two of you took on the floor, in an apocalypse dance, realities were immediately misaligned. With each spin, lines of events were exploded into other universes. With each look shared, with each smile, with each heartbeat full of romance, people were erased, born, disappeared.

An apocalypse was brewing somewhere because of his hands on your body. A mystical waltz that brought the ascension of chaos in other timelines.

Neither of you two knew about it. But if Five knew, he wouldn't keep his hands off you anyway. Five Hargreeves was the villain in many realities. And he would accept the burden of being in a few more if it meant having you in his arms.

In an inexplicable and irrational way, what was happening now had more importance than everything he had ever lived and would live through in his entire life.

"You dance very well." You praised him, and his hands on you tighten a little more.

"No more than you". Then he gave that smile.

The half smile that lifted only one corner of his mouth. Malicious, sagacious, sphinx. Who promised to know all the mysteries of the world and show you all the sins of life. What man was that? So full of charm, sensuality, beauty. He seemed out of this world and you found yourself wishing that time would freeze in that moment, that you could hold onto your chest and live in that dance for the rest of your life.

There was something different in the air. A soul-deep feeling that whispered that your life would never be the same again.

Not after this man.

“It is not difficult to find women who dance.” You joked. "You've certainly danced with others to know."

Yes, with his mother and Allison.

But even if he had been dancing with all the women in the world, they would have disappeared in that moment. No memories memory experiences with other women could stand out at that moment.

"If I danced, they all disappeared the moment I waltzed with you." He realized he might have said the right thing, because he could see the breath go out of your lungs and cheekbones flush deliciously.

God in heaven… this girl was breathtakingly beautiful.

Five led you around the hall masterfully, committing your features to his mind like the tattoo on his wrist. Permanently, eternally. Suddenly, he was struck down by the insane desire to know more about you. To hear more of your voice, to taste the way the words flowed from your lips like the purest honey.

You were like a drug, an obsession. An addiction that had stuck with him since the first time he came into that century, since he breathed the same air as you, since he coexisted under the same night sky as you. There was insane logic in the fact that his soul felt your presence without even seeing you on that first mission. He would never be able to explain it, but somehow it made sense inside in him.

Five Hargreeves didn't think about what would happen when he had to leave. He didn't think about the withdrawal his body would suffer when he was away from you. Much less noticed the way there seemed to be something important in the air. If he had been in full intellectual faculties and grounded in rationality, he would have managed to understand that that something was the temporal lines collapsing, an apocalypse forming elsewhere, pure and perfect chaos destroying parallel realities.

But he was not being led by rationality. And even if he was, he wouldn't have minded a few worlds burning if it meant having you next to his body. He didn't care. But The Commission was a different case.

But Five Hargreeves wasn't thinking about any of that.

He conducted a conversation with you the way he conducted that waltz. He discovered that you liked the high seas even though you were never allowed to be on a ship. You loved nature and enjoyed good books. He heard your eagerness to know the world and learn about different cultures, that you wanted to unravel the mysteries of Egypt, see the architecture of Greece, visit Spain and wanted to go swim in the beaches of Brazil. You were an adventurer, and Five's heart skipped a beat for it.

But in a corner of his soul, deep down, he felt an ache reverberate through his bones. The urge to tell you about the world came with overwhelming force, and something inside him died when he realized he could never tell you the truth about the subjects you cared about.

He could never tell all that the world already knew about Egypt, about its tombs and its pharaohs. He could never be able to show the beauty of Brazil's beaches that become famous tourist spots, and he reserved a note in his brain that you would have loved to visit Genipabu in Brazil, a beach with huge sand dunes that seemed to be the junction of a huge desert whit a beach. He could not tell you what science, oceanography and marine biologists already knew about the oceans. He could never say about the cruises that roamed the seas in all the luxury and comfort, much less about the planes.

Five Hargreeves would never be able to show you the world. And his soul decided to torture itself even more thinking about what it would be like if you were from his time. The things you would do, the freedom you could enjoy.

He could show you anything you wanted, tell you the secrets of the universe…His secrets.

When the waltz was over, on a note as dramatic as the situation, you couldn't say goodbye to him. Your soul, enchanted and completely enraptured by the man in front of you, vehemently refused to remove your hand over his. It seemed that every molecule in your body, every corner of your spirit, every fiber of your being, had defined that it was with that man that they wanted to stay. Forever.

What was foolish.

The truth was that the sensation of poetry, romance and magic that surrounded you two throughout the dance, had evaporated from the air like mist in the sun. Now the sure that you two weren't meant to be together hung in the air like a black cloud, thundering and flashing. This feeling oppressed you with an overwhelming force, so tangible it was possible to cut it with a razor.

No words needed to be said, but it was stamped into the environment, filling every millimeter and gap, putting that magical dance into a category that would never go beyond that: a dance.

A feeling of melancholy jabbed your throat like a scorpion's sting, injecting an emotion of sadness and helplessness into your blood like distilled poison. You didn't want that to be the end. You didn't want to say goodbye. Even with everything in the air indicating that whatever existed between the two of you, ended here, now.

Five's eyes seemed to exude the same as you. Feeling the end heavy and resounding in the air, reverberating like thunder, as every corner of his soul roared the opposite. The green sea of his irises looked like it was in the middle of a storm. Full of pain, anger. With colossal waves and revolts, which promised to destroy everything they saw ahead. Just like the oceans did in the apocalyptic events in the era of Younger Dryas.

Somehow, without having to utter a single sentence, you both knew you were feeling the same thing. Wishing, with all their might, that this wasn't the end, that they were able to hold time against their chest in a tight, desperate embrace, an attempt to freeze the pointers.

At that moment, Five clamored, to any god who would listen, that you not be taken from his arms.

However, like the evil joke that was his life, his thoughts were cut short by the chiming of the clock. 11 chimes. That echoed in his soul like the trumpets of hell, laughing at him, mocking him, making fun of a murderer thinking he would be graced with something like you.

Five Hargreeves was a villain. And he was destined to have the things villains deserve. And none of this things included someone like you.

In that sadistic moment, Five finally understood a sentence from one of the books Grace read to them at night; ‘If I were to kiss you then go to hell, I would. So then I can brag with the devils I saw heaven without ever entering it.’

Yes. Now he understood. Five Hargreeves leaned in, bringing the back of your hand to his lips, laying a kiss that, however much it was impeded by the muslin layer of your glove, he prayed that this kiss could transmit all the feelings he could never say. This are the only kiss he could give you. That sentence echoed in his head like a fact, as sure as the sky is blue, as true as the salt in the oceans.

And when he went to the core of hell, paying for all his sins, he would brag to the other demons that he had been to heaven without ever having entered it.

You wish you'd said something, asked where he was from, stopped him from going. But none of that happened. This was one of those moments that we regret forever, that are branded in a red-hot iron in the soul, in the mind, in the body. Everything inside you was screaming to go after him when Five turned arund and walked into the sea of guests. But he disappeared in the waves before you could even move your feet.

No one had to tell you, but you knew you'd never see him again. And your heart would never beat for another.

-----------

Five Hargreeves has had to do a lot of horrible things over the years. Actions he wasn't proud of but he knew needed to be done, nights awash in blood and the smell of death.

But nothing has wobble him as much as you have.

His soul, body and mind, trained since he was a child not to develop any weakness that would prevent him from being a perfect hero, then perfected and aggravated by the Commission to be the unbeatable assassin, were rarely stirred by feelings.

He was cynical, hard-nosed, crotchety and arrogant. He never got carried away by emotions and, as much as his desire to save his family is pure, he will cross any ethical lines for the greater good. And all of that made him the Commission's best weapon.

Until now.

Until his emotions messed up not just one, but thousands of timelines. Created catastrophes, formed apocalypses, killed people. Hargreeves meeting you was something that could never have happened. Repudiated not just by nature but by the gods. Having you in his arms was like a crime against the timeline, against the balance of the world.

And heavens and hells would make him pay. With work, blood, or his heart. Promising to take not only the soul, but any hope of laying eyes on you once again. As Icarus had his downfall for the sun, so Hargreeves had for you. In a triumphal ruin.

“Do you have any idea what you caused ?!” It was the first thing The Handler said as soon as Five returned from his mission, seconds after he had killed his target.

Her voice was loud, suffused with anger and rage and… despair. Five frowned, soul still aching from having to leave you, your warmth still in his arms. He didn't have the head to deal with her right now. Not when he had so much to process.

“A death.”

“Don't play smart on me!” Her roar was loud enough for Hargreeves to realize that something really serious was going on. The Handler was many things, but she never got worked up without good reason.

The clatter of her heels echoed through the room as she walked towards him, her eyes full of fierce emotion.

“You had only one job to do! One! Kill the man and get out of there. Like always!" Her voice was as rough as desert sand. “But not only did you mess up entire timelines, but created apocalypses on thousands of worlds that were to happen only thousands of years later!"

Five's mind was racing like a Catarina wheel, spinning at full throttle as it tried to put the pieces together. He blinked once, twice, his heart starting to race with the feeling that something devastating was about to be revealed.

He looked at The Handler, who understood his look. "That's right! Your little feat of dancing with that girl shattered thousands of timelines! People were killed, disappeared, events took a completely different course because of your little impertinence!"

She pulled his arm towards the thousands of screens that monitored infinite realities. And what he saw was chaos. Pure and perfect. Some worlds succumbed to fire, others to water, others to war. But they had devastation as a resemblance.

Five can hear the voices of other Commission workers in the background, in another corridor, other rooms. Some sounded desperate, others irritated, and others helpless, but all seemed concerned. He couldn't even say that he didn't know that little things had chain reactions. Because he knew. There was nothing to justify his actions, for he didn't even have a good reason for himself.

But the truth was, even staring the apocalypse in the face across nine different monitors, he felt no…remorse. There wasn't a part of him that would have done differently, that wouldn't have touched you, that wouldn't have known you. Deep in his soul Hargreeves knew he didn't care how many worlds he had destroyed just by touching you. He was going to hell anyway, it was better to have a memory of you to remember for eternity.

"...we'll have to kill her." It was just that sentence that Five's messed up mind paid attention to.

Then everything stopped.

The weather, the conversations. The world seemed to have held their breath, suspended, staring at Five. Everything inside him fell silent into scary silence, and he turned slowly toward The Handler, all his senses heightened, heart still, mind clear.

She seemed to notice his state. "What did you expect?! You know how things work. Causers of apocalypse get killed, that's our job! And because of that dance of yours, this girl has caused nine different apocalypses.”

There was a kind of insane, evil logic to the situation. The last riddle of gods and life to see Five Hargreeves on his knees. Broken, empty. To punish his sins, taking from him what he took from so many people. They engineered his downfall perfectly, writing with a red-hot iron on his soul the sentence that he could never be happy. His curse, the price to pay. Cosmic fit.

What the fucking hell.

“I'll send some agent to kill her immediately and...”

But Five Hargreeves has never been one to accept sentences imposed on him with his head down. Limitations, rules. He made his own destiny, no matter what he told him, and lived with the consequences. No god, destiny or universe dictated his life.

Everything inside him roared like a beast. Exploding, bursting, sending any control flying away. In an action without any hesitation, delicacy or ambiguities, his hand closed on The Handler's arm. In a firm, strong, tense grip that started hurt her very soon.

She looked at him in a mixture of shock and annoyance. There were very few people in the world willing to face a woman on her level, some too fearful, others who value life too much. But Five Hargreeves was none of those things. He'd never known any predator he should fear, everyone knew he was capable of anything and everything. Maybe there was no line he was able from crossing, or plan he wasn't capable of executing.

Five Hargreeves was the predator she should fear.

And The Handler realized that. For in that pair of eyes she saw danger, rage, pure and perfect hate. His sea of green gave way to red, glittering waves, shining with all the blood he had already spilled. And with a warning that he wouldn't mind spilling more.

“Stay. away. from. her. ” he guided each word with a tighter grip on her delicate arm, sure to leave marks that won't go away anytime soon.

Bewildered, she looked at him like a man possessed, filled with a rage that could fuel hell all by itself. The Handler had never seen him in that state, he was always angry, annoyed, acidic, but that… that was hatred, a bloodthirsty hate.

Five Hargreeves promised to go to hell and drag anyone with him without saying a word.

For the first time in her life, The Handler was afraid.

“Five...you know her need to die...”

"Listen to me" He vociferate, shaking her by the arm. “I don't give a fuck what you have to say. I swear, for all that exists in this world, that if you lay one finger on her, there will be nowhere on earth you can fuck hide from me.”

Five Hargreeves was a tall, masculine man, wrapped in a macabre and sinister aura when he wanted to. He pulled The Handler closer, his face filled with colossal rage being etched like a tattoo into her soul.

“I don't give a fuck about how many worlds are ending, I don't give a fuck if fucking people are dying! You won't touch her until the day I'm dead! And you can bet that, even seven feet under the ground, I'll find a way to take you with me to hell if you do fucking something to her."

You were untouchable.

All of his work on The Commission was about killing a number of people to save even more. But he would never, ever, sacrifice you for the greater good. Not even if it meant millions of dead people.

It didn't matter as long as you weren't one of the dead.

Without waiting for further discussion, he led The Handler towards the exit door, leading her out of the room and locking the door when he returned. Five wasn't stupid or naive to think that she would follow his orders. The handler might be afraid of him, but she knew how to get what she wanted, no matter how long it took. And now that he'd bruised her ego, Five knew she'd make it her primary mission to kill you.

Something he would never let happen.

If someone asked where so much anger, so much sense of protection came from, Five Hargreeves couldn't say. Because he didn't even know. In the same way that he still didn't understand everything that had happened, everything that he had been feeling, he still hadn't reasoned where such primitive, territorialist impulses came from. He had no idea where it all came from, but he was sure he could never let anything bad happen to you.

In a twisted and somewhat obscure way, you had gained a villain as a protector. A fallen angel who didn't promise to do good to people, but only to you. Who swore allegiance not to humanity, but solemnly, exclusively, to you.

It was a sensation that filled his entire body like boiling lava. And Five put his hand in the fire for the certainty that he would never be able to get rid of his feelings for you again.

His soul said that, as long as he was alive, he would be yours.

Making his mind work faster than it ever had before, Five Hargreeves concluded that every record of you had to go. There could no longer be documents proving that you were part of humanity. That once you had a name, a house, a reality. Five would have to erase you from any and all records. Forever. The only way to keep you out of the hands of the people who had access to every form of terrestrial existence, was to erase you from the world. Only then, hidden from the Commission, could you live happily. Fully.

But throwing all your documents away was signing the sentence that he was took the risk of never getting to see you again. Without them, finding someone was nearly impossible, much less accessing their reality. Five could start a calculation to find you one day, but that could take years, ages, and even if he memorized your documents number by number, did the calculations and managed to get to you without any side effects, The Commission could follow him and find you.

And finding a civilian's documents was much easier than finding a special agent like him and throwing them away too.

Once again, his life was a cruel joke of the gods, which served as entertainment for any higher power. Five strongly believed that, if there was anything above or below him, they designed his life for they own amusement.

Five Hargreeves spent hours in the file room, locked in that cubicle, not letting anyone in, not getting out. Once he disappeared with your documents, he would be declared a traitor and deserter, where his punishment would not only be more years of work, but death.

The world was spinning. Head ached. A sound gnawed at his mind, a scratch without melody, like a rustle of paper. Someone had taken a scream, a memory and a fear, crumpled it into a jagged ball, and used it to stuff Five's skull. He need to think of a plan that covered all the rough edges, but his eyes were bombarded with futures he didn't want to think about. Every time he blinked he felt the tragedy lurking in a dark and dismal corner, ready to catch him in their sharp mouths and take him somewhere he feared to go.

A place where the worst had happened to you.

Suddenly, the world was filled with secrets, fears and terror. Just as his soul took control of him in that night, it was the same in this moment. Five Hargreeves wasn't someone to get carried away by anything, but the feeling that something very bad was about to happen to you haunted him to the bone. That would be the perfect ending to his sinful life story; having the one person who touched his feelings so powerfully killed in the same way he killed so many other people.

Life was taking its toll on all the things he had done. For a second, he was afraid of that reckoning. Because the worst is not the bullet hitting yourself, but someone you like.

The feeling outside of being torn apart. All the patches and pieces of what it was to be Five Hargreeves - which he had been painstakingly piecing together throughout his life - were coming loose again, all at once. The clock was ticking, the hours were ticking, and he knew that just as he was coming up with a plan, so was The Handler.

It was a macabre race against time, in which if he lost, he had the feeling he would never fully recover. Not without a part of his soul dying along with you.

When he found your documents, the photo they had of you was a portrait made in that last century, a small painting of your face, eternalizing your smile. Suddenly, the memory of how you'd smiled at him like that gripped him like a demon. And when the memories of you intensified, they brought no comfort, just only fear and dread. Five Hargreeves could not live with himself if those memories were tainted by the knowledge that he was the cause of his tragedy. He would never be able to remember those tender moments again if memories of you were vandalized by images of how you were killed.

It was too late to remedy the consequences of what he had unleashed. The macabre possibilities of what The Handler could do to you were there, tattooed on his brain, as if they would snap open and bolt to reality at any moment. So, as panic rose, Five Hargreeves' mind slammed shut like a heavy book. He wouldn't let any of that happen. Never.

After scheming and checking all the plans in his mind, Five decided that he had already orchestrated the almost perfect scheme. He would destroy all of your documents and, when he had done that, he could no longer remain on the Commission. Thus, he would steal the mission from one of the agents about killing John F. Kennedy, the time that most closely matched his calculations to return to the family in 2019. Then Five Hargreeves would evade The Commission and deal with them without being an employee anymore. And even if they went after him, they would never find you.

Not even Five.

And so it was done.

-----------

Five Hargreeves went through the reunion with his family, faced the commission agents coming after him to kill him, dealt with The Handler and put up with his siblings drama.

In a matter of weeks, he had already gotten himself into so much trouble and confusion that sometimes he didn't even have time to breathe. Processing events and digesting them had become a luxury he no longer had, and saving the world from one apocalypse and falling into another had seemed to become a family pastime.

But there were nights. Cold, when the moon reached its apex in the sky and the rain poured down on the ground, when he was finally able to be alone and clear his mind. In those rare moments, the only thing on his mind was you.

Always you.

His point of peace, his refuge from his constant stress and pressure was in the images of you. In the way your body fit perfectly in his hands, in the way your gaze, enchanted and completely shining, did not leave his. Five Hargreeves felt that, like him at that moment, there was no other place you would rather be.

Twenty years could go by, but he would still feel what it was like to have your warmth in his arms, in the smell that your perfume exhaled and in the way the candles in the candelabra glowed on your skin. You were like a goddess, dancing at that ball as if the world would never be graced with such beauty again.

When Five Hargreeves closed his eyes, he could see you perfectly. Swirling around as if the ground were your clouds and everyone there were mere mortals, watching what the angels in heaven looked like.

It was like a dark paradise. He managed to slake some of that suffocating tightness in his chest whenever he returned to those memories, but it resulted in more flagellations in his poor, tortured soul. The notion that he would never have anything but memories, dreams, and mowed wishes, would skin him alive until his last days. Five would forever be haunted by the notion that, even when he died, you wouldn't be waiting on the other side.

You would be in heaven. And he belonged in hell.

But, it was worth it.

All the pain, all the desperation his soul struggled with, all the shortness of breath that coiled in his lungs, all the feeling of being stabbed with a dagger knowing his would never lay hands on you again, it was all worth it when he reviewed your face in his memories.

Five Hargreeves didn't clamored for relief from his pain, balm for the cuts deep in his soul, a minute's mercy. No, he accepted all of his fate with his head held high. He clamored for you to be okay. Safe, happy. Free from any worries or tribulations. He wished you had forgotten about him, erased that night from your blood, because it would be impossible to live if he knew you were suffering just like him.

Five Hargreeves had never given you a single kiss, tucked your hair in his fingers and tasted your tongue, but he didn't need it. His soul didn't need that to fall madly in love with you.

Yes, pure and perfect passion. It was the only logical explanation for how he felt about you.

Even though he never tasted your skin in his mouth, or touched you without the interference of a piece of clothing, Five Hargreeves was in love with you.

And it would be for the rest of his life.

-----------

All the Hargreeves siblings thought all was well when the Commission was defeated and they got a briefcase to take them back at home. The nightmare of the second apocalypse had already passed and now the feeling that invaded their bodies was one of relief. For a second, Klaus thought that everything would now be back on track; with the family together, stronger ties and improved relationships.

Everyone thought so, actually.

The shimmering blue flash engulfed all the brothers, passing through the barriers of space and time, leaving the Hargreeves in the mansion where they grew up and spent most of their lives. Everyone looked happy, relaxed. And Five also shared the same relief.

Until that fateful moment.

Until a draft of wind enter through the window behind him and hitting his back, bringing a feeling that immediately made every hair on his body stand on end. In a matter of seconds, all sense of relief, calm, and peace were shattered, exploding one by one with the same aggressiveness of a nuclear bomb. The world seemed to stumble and stoped, the colors of the hemisphere fluidized into a vintage orange, flickering, almost as if the lighting came from candles.

As much as his siblings were laughing and making noises, everything for Five was quiet, in a tacit silence. The sound of cars on the streets did not exist anymore, the conversations disappeared, and, little by little, the only thing he could hear was his own heartbeat. Increasing in tempo gradually, like a soundtrack.

Then, in the apex of silence, when Five could already hear the blood rushing through his veins, he listened.

Five.

Your voice in the wind, almost like a whisper. Calling for him. Just like you did a long time ago.

His soul gave a scream that shook him to the very bones, and he didn't notice when his eyes widened and his breath hitched. Suddenly, his whole body came back to life, being pulled sharply from the bottom of the ocean, submerging, desperately, breathless, astonished. Abruptly, the heat returned to his hands, to his cheeks, to his heart. Five could feel warmth coursing through his body as if they had rekindled the flame of his soul.

Was like resurrect.

He looked back in one jerk, spinning in place, heart pounding in his ribcage, his frantic, frantic eyes darting around every corner.

Nothing.

“Hey, are you okay?” Klaus looked back, focusing on his brother, but Five didn't respond.

He walked past Klaus as if he couldn't hear him, his eyes and hands trembling visibly, his step tight. Five chased the wind current as if he were chased his life, oblivious to anything or anyone.

His siblings, finding the situation strange, followed him without hesitation, accompanying the owner with green eyes entering more in the house. They had no idea what to expect, or what to think, but they stopped behind Five as he froze in the middle of the living room, eyes petrified, wide, fixed on a very specific spot at the top of the stairs.

But nobody noticed what he saw.

While all the Hargreeves were taken aback by Reginald's appearance in the outer corner of the room, stunned and petrified, growing more and more stunned as their father went on to explain the situation, Five couldn't take his eyes off the top of the stairs. Nothing in the world would have made him look elsewhere.

You.

Fucking hell...you.

There, standing next to people he didn't care to find out who they were, looking down, observing at the people who had just entered.

Suddenly, everything inside him was whipped by currents of electricity, as if he'd been struck by lightning. An argument seemed to be brewing in the background, but Five Hargreeves didn't fucking care. May the world explode, may everything end up in dust, fire or water. He didn't want to know.

You were there. With the sunlight coming through the large windows behind your back, and illuminating your silhouette as if you were a deity, a goddess, a muse. You shone. Like the gates of heaven. At that moment, the soul of Five Hargreeves fell to his knees in front of you. For you.

An extremely strong emotion invaded him without asking permission, destroying everything he once was. Five felt like crying.

As a war in the background unfolded, the people who were beside you started to descend the stairs one by one. But he couldn't take his eyes off you.

“Five. Five.” Luther seemed to call out to him in the background, but he didn't care.

You walked down the steps the same way you glided through that ballroom, as if the floor were your clouds. Yours robes were uniform this time, but Five was pretty sure that behind that high collar, your skin harbored a birthmark on your collarbone. Your hair was down, but he knew how you looked with your strands tied up.

With each step you took, more his pulse quickened. It was like a dream, a mirage, his oasis in the scorching desert. At some point in the battle against the Commission he had died, and that was his dream.

However, Luther's hand gripped his arm, forcing his green eyes to meet his brother's.

“Dude, what's wrong with you? Didn't you hear dad saying that we're in another reality?”

“I am not your father.” Reginald countered. “Not in this reality.”

Five frowned, rationality slowly returning to his body, his brain taking over once more. A parallel reality. That explained a lot. A reality where…you existed.

Holy shit.

Someone said the Hargreeves had better go, and Five would have laughed out loud if he hadn't submerged in thoughts. If they really was in a parallel reality, that meant you didn't remember him. You didn't even know him. The version who have danced with him was still in another century, in a timeline far, far away.

But…Five looked up. You radiated the same beauty of the romantic period as before, your skin still looked feather soft, your lips still where able to take away his complete self-control, your eyes still have… the same glow that he remembered so many times during so many nights.

You didn't know him, but that didn't matter. Because Five knew you.

He suffered the worst of martyrdoms all this time, and now that he'd finally, finally found you once more, he wasn't going to leave. Even if it meant having to make you fall in love with him all over again. In fact, Five Hargreeves would dedicate his entire lives to making you fall in love with him all over again in every reality there is. He would have as many times as necessary a first dance with you.

He didn't realize it, but his lips lifted in a smile. In a snap of fingers, everything reached a apex, higher than the buildings, higher even to the clouds. All the problems evaporated like mist in the sun, and being in a parallel reality, with a father that wasn't his, in a house that wasn't the one he grew up in, seemed to be extremely insignificant.

For the first time in a long time, Five Hargreeves was happy. And nothing would change that.

That's when, amidst all the arguing the Hargreeves and Sparrows were having around, your eyes met his. And for him it was like coming home after an excruciating winter.

You cocked your head slightly to the side, intrigued by the way that man was looking at you so…surrendered. You understood the gravity of the situation, of those strangers breaking into your home and trying to claim everything as theirs. You were also irritated just like your siblings.

But... when you looked at that man… with eyes so green and hair so dark, something inside you caught your breath. A shiver went up your spine. And maybe you were crazy, but you can swear that felt your soul heave a sigh of…relief. A strange, emotional feeling reverberated through your spirit as if…somehow you'd just found what you've spent so long waiting to met again.

It don’t make sense.

As the confrontation unfolded between the two families, you couldn't help but notice that, minute by minute, you found yourself wanting to look at this man more. As if it were never going to be enough, as if the second you turned your head, you were overcome with an insane urge to see more. You should be focused on trying to get those strangers out of your house, not admiring one of them.

But Five realized that. A spark inside him vibrated with hope, and he delighted in being able to relive the feeling of what it was like to be looked at by you again.

But before he or you could even do anything, the physical feud between the two families broke out with astonishing speed, spreading like the plague. Diego, as usual, was the first to go into battle, followed by Luther and Allison.

See, you didn't consider yourself a confrontational person. Your peculiarity was to manipulate the natural elements and, although that made you one of the strongest figures among your siblings, you had a more adventurous spirit than a fighter. There was no such homeric thirst in your blood to be the best, the strongest, the most brutal. Ben said that was the most unattractive thing about you, but Sloane saw this feature with good eyes. Like you, she wasn't much inclined to brutality.

The fight drove you and Five away from each other, separated by rooms, siblings and war. You saw your family appeal to brute aggression very quickly, while, if you're honest, you didn't want to hurt anyone. Is trut that you were irritated by the way they claimed your house as theirs, but you didn't think they were bad people.

Or all this bland resolutions were for the fact that you didn't want to hurt him. Because, in some way you couldn't explain, you knew he wouldn't hurt you.

But that's when Alphonso yelled at you from upstairs. “Y/N! Do fucking something too!”

Everyone was scattered around the house, but you still remained downstairs, in the living room, arranging a way to help without being very aggressive like your siblings were being. You had no intention of killing or seriously injuring them, but you also weren't willing to put up with the scolding your brothers would give you if you continued to be omitte.

So, when one of the strangers came running to get away from something, the tail of his dark overcoat dancing in the air and his black hat toppling along the path, your reaction was to do the one thing that couldn't seem to do any real damage. In a wave of the hand, the windows were shattered by large, sprawling tree roots, that came out of the garden earth like thick snakes and entered the house in a steady stream.

The man gave a high-pitched scream, but his feet were already entwined by the roots and he was knocked to the ground. The roots, which spilled earth over the floor and exhaled a forest smell, wrapped themselves around the man's body up to his chest, with the only purpose of immobilizing him.

You weren't putting force or brutality, and you were sure the roots were just putting considerable pressure on, like a bandage around an injured arm. But the man didn't seem to notice this, because he kept screaming.

The fear should still be clouding his senses, and you revealed the situation. For it wasn't often that someone was wrapped around by giant roots that moved of their own accord. In your place, you would have reacted that way too.

“Hey, hey” you tried to get closer “It's ok, they won't hurt you and…”

But your speech was interrupted by shrill hum, which cut through the air with force and passed like a bullet in front of your face, shaking a few locks of your hair. The speed were frightening, and for a second your heart stopped in your chest. The fright made you take two steps back immediately, but in a matter of seconds any feeling was replaced by a very strong burning in your left cheek. In the same second, a hot liquid began to ooze from your injured skin like water in a current, spreading pain wherever went.

Two seconds that were able to put you face to face with death. Because that attack was not joking.

The bearded man ran to help the one who was lying on the ground, forcing his freedom between the roots that were now weak due to your distraction.

Unlike you, Diego didn't care about the things he had to do to save his family. He was willing to injure, inflict permanent damage, even killing if that was the only way out. He would have a guilty conscience later, but in the heat of the moment, he wouldn't hesitate. Diego did this to the Commission agents hours ago, and he would do this to you if he had to. As sure as the sky was blue, the Sparrows were the enemy. And he was the hero. Thats it. Two polar opposites, destined to face each other into the death.

And that was why he didn't hesitate to attack when he saw Klaus lying on the floor, screaming as if he were being killed. After getting a small taste of the kind of things your powers were capable of doing, it was pretty clear that you were one of the first ones that needed to go down. So Diego didn't hesitate either when he pulled Klaus off the ground, and wielded yet another dagger. Aiming not to hurt, but to kill.

But love could drive even the smartest minds crazy.

Because when the dagger was thrown in the air, a blue flash invaded the scene and a male body enveloped yours, pushing both of you aside in a rough, protective, intense gesture.

Five Hargreeves was on the stair railing, fighting Jayme, when Klaus's screams grab his attention. He didn't have much time to process what he was seeing, but the moment one of Diego's daggers slashed across your cheek, the primal, visceral instinct he'd felt so long ago, with The Handler on The Commission, roared through him like an angry beast. So when another dagger was wielded and thrown into the air, he didn't think twice, didn't hesitate, didn't blink.

Dropping everything behind, Five Hargreeves dove into the blue flash, having you as the only focus in mind.

As soon as the crash of his body with yours caused you both to leave the deadly path, the arms, masculine and wide, wrapped around your back as if he were holding the only anchorage on the high seas in the middle of a storm. His heart was pounding in his chest, and as much that adrenaline, primal instinct and rage were bubbling through his body, he still managed to feel his soul sighing in deep relief when felt your warmth again in his arms.

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?"

Diego's angry roar seemed to shake the walls, but didn't stop the obstinate, angry look that swallowed Five's expression.

“Diego…” his voice didn't match the situation the Hargreeves found themselves in. His tone was serious, steady, so calm it was terrifying, like the warning of darkness to the light. “Stay away from her.”

His brother's confused and perplexed look couldn't have been more accentuated. And even Klaus, known for being the least serious about situations, looked completely astonished. Five Hargreeves didn't held you like he was preventing a murder. No. He held you like Cerberus should have held the only person he was ever loyal to.

"You are fucking crazy?!" Diego gestured with his hands “Let go the enemy now!”

The Hargreeves have been through a lot, seen a lot. Many of them being absurd, beyond any rationality or law of physics, moments in which they had to deal with situations that were not possible to be of this world. But nothing, and no one, could have prepared Diego and Klaus for what they heard from Five;

"Never."

The moment was dispersed when Viktor appeared in the room, shaking, hurt, out of his mind. His head fell back in a single gesture, his arms opened up and the fists closed, as white lights began to shoot out from within his eyes and chest.

Five Hargreeves knew what that meant.

He didn't think twice before running to the side, hiding you behind the bar counter and lowering you two bodies to the floor. His body in front of yours, blocking access to the roughest impact in you.

You two had three seconds, three seconds to look into each other's eyes before the flash explodes. And in that three seconds, the only thing that passed in the soul of both of you was the feeling of finally being where should be.

-----------

"They're stupid villains who think they're smart!" Ben was furious in the kitchen, pacing back and forth.

The last few days had passed like this. With Ben angry about the invasion, Ben angry about the fight, Ben angry about Marcus disappearing, Ben angry about... well... he was always angry.

Of all your siblings, he had the worst temper. Fei and Christopher were practically his dogs, going along with all of Ben's stupid plans just because... you really didn't know why they followed him so fervently, but had a theory that it was because they both thought they would have more power when Ben's plans came to fruition.

A hierarchical system that filled the family with toxicity.

On the other hand, there were Jayme and Alphonso. You never really understood the two, but you described them as bullies. A duo who liked the power they had and how they managed to exert it over people.

The only one you could relate to more deeply was Sloane.

"It would have been better if Y/n had made an attack." Alphonso brought your name up in conversation, his gaze full of rancor.

"Fuck off, asshole" It was the only thing you deigned to say, because you didn't have the patience to deal with his comments at the time.

The truth is, since the invasion, you couldn't get him out of your mind.

It was like a drug, an addiction, that had seeped into your blood from the first time you laid eyes on him. There was something there, something you could never explain. He should be the enemy. Your enemy. But…

The way he saved you from the knives, the way his arms wrapped around you. Almost like he already knows how to hold you. How to protect you.

Your heart couldn't slow down whenever your thoughts returned to that man. From the memory of him placing his body in front of you, standing at the forefront of the explosion.

He saved you. Everytime. And there was something that told you he would save you every chance he got.

The truth was…you wanted to see him. Know his name. Talk with him. There was no longer a fiber of your being that saw the situation as your siblingsdid, your body was facing the complete opposite north.

You wanted to touch him, not fight with him.

When time passed, and Luther showed up at the mansion as someone who was kidnapped, you, again, did not see the situation as a beneficial opportunity for your family. But for you.

Suddenly, your entire soul was gripped by a completely unsettling anxiety that made your hands itch, stomach churn, and your legs unable to stay still. Then you were swept by a feeling of deep sadness, as if you'd already experienced what it was like to spend your whole life wanting to see that man and never getting.

There was no more logic, rationality or coherence to what you were feeling, but finding him was as indispensable as breathing.

That's why you volunteered - more like an imposition - that you would be the one to escort Luther home the moment Ben said he could leave.

“It was kind of you to accompany me” The blond man smiled at you, as the two of you walked through the night streets.

"It was nothing." You tried to sound casual, but with every step toward your destination, the more your hands itched, the more your heart was racing, and in a moment, you found yourself picking up the pace to get there faster.

“I have to confess that you were a topic of discussion between my brothers.” Luther laughed, his odd way of bringing up the subject and not mincing words.

But that got your attention. "What do you mean?"

“A-ahem…well…from what I understand, Diego wanted to kill you, but Five stopped him and…”

Five…Five

His name was Five.

Something inside you stirred. An unfamiliar emotion, but one that made a smile rise to yourcheeks.

“Five” you tried to say aloud, and his name just… felt right on your lips.

You went the rest of the way not being able to pay attention to a single syllable Luther was saying. You don't wanted to be rude, but you just… couldn't stop thinking about Five.

“How long before we get there?” you cut off something Luther was saying about Sloane, and the blond eyebrows drawing together in strangeness.

“Actually” he looked at the big hotel in front of him “We already arrived and…”

But you couldn't stop yourself. All of your muscles felt like they had undergone countless electrical discharges, your heart was faster than any living soul has ever been, and your blood was rushing through your veins like marathon runners. You increased your pace considerably, quickly climbing the steps and opening the doors of that building as if you had just walked through the gates of paradise.

You needed to see him.

Luther came up behind you, giving you a suspicious look and walking towards a bar, where the outlines of several people were talking.

-----------

"I returned." Luther's voice brought Five out of his thoughts, and a part of her brain tried to remember the time his brother had left.

And he didn't find any answers.

To his defence, Five's mind had been elsewhere these days. Moments when he rewound in his mind once, twice, three times. Not even the impending new apocalypse knocking on the door seemed to have any effect on Five. To be honest, he… saw no point in trying to save the world this time. Meeting you once was a miracle, but meeting you again, in an entirely different reality and without The Commission making things difficult, seemed like too much of a luxury for him to ignore.

The truth was that in the first attempt to escape the apocalypse he ended up sending the family to different times, with intervals of years between each one. And, deep down, he didn't know if he could handle trying to take you with him to another reality and end up losing you too.

Five had been through this once before. He knew pain too well not to be willing to risk it.

“What is the enemy doing here?!"

Diego's voice snapped Five out of his thoughts, and an electric current shot through his head and reverberated down to his toes. Immediately, without any hesitation, his eyes flew away, finding not just Luther - whit several bags in hand - but you beside him.

You.

Something inside him ignited, his heart raced and, for a moment, the whole world around him fell away.

But just for a moment, because Diego was already getting up from his seat.

“Hey. Hey!” Five teleported away, once again placing the body in front of you . “What the hell do you think you are doing?”

“What would anyone do to the enemy! What are you doing? Defending a stranger again?!"

“She is not a stranger, Diego. Now be quiet in your place before I have to do it for you.”

"She is not?" Klaus and Viktor said in unison

"I'm not?" Your voice, the only one that mattered to him, came from behind his back, quieter than the others but loud enough for him to hear.

Five turned towards you, turning his back on his siblings. Unlike how he looked at Diego, his eyes held all the softness and attention in the world when they met yours. A small smile appeared at the corner of his left mouth, a secret smile, hidden from the world but revealed only to you.

"It's a long story," he admitted, having no idea how to start. How to tell something that even to him don't make sense.

“I came to see you.” you rewarded his honesty with another truth, a gleam crossing his eyes like shooting stars. “I have time to listen.”

A smile blossomed on his lips, and Five was overcome by the purest feeling of happiness. Without saying anything, or giving anyone satisfaction, his hand laced into yours, and he disappeared with you in the blue flash.

-----------

Any sensible, practical, centered woman, would have laughed at what Five had just told you. Anyone who didn't get carried away by matters of the heart and didn't believe that two people, when destined to be together, are helped even by the wind, would have turned around and walked away.

But you weren't a sensible woman, nor practical, much less centered. Your being was composed of romance, adventure and magic. You fervently believed in destiny, soulmates and that some loves are capable of overcoming the barrier of space and time.

What's more, if all that wasn't enough, you also felt, from your soul to your bones, sensations that couldn't be explained. Feelings he was also saying he felt too. You believed in him. And that fact came as soft as the droplets of dew, as the brightness of the moon.

After his account came to end, with him letting himself be vulnerable in telling all the thoughts that ever crossed his mind about you, the urge to say just one thing screamed your blood rumbling. “You’re no the villain in my story” your words hung in the air.

“I am,” Five's voice brimmed with a liquid honesty that was able to chill your bones, but nothing in his words hinted at remorse for the things he'd already done. “But i'll be the villain for you. Not to you. I'll let worlds burn again if it means keeping you alive. In a problematic way, that I'll never be able to explain, I don't feel guilty about doing something if it means your safety.”

Five Hargreeves expected many things. Many different reactions. Many words of contradiction. But never what happened next.

Your mouth, without any hesitation, joined his in a kiss that was capable of making his world explode. His body was ignited by a fire that swallowed even his soul, washing away all his sins and giving a demon a taste of heaven.

So what was it like to kiss a goddess? An angel, a muse.

If before, without even touching your skin without the interference of clothing, Five would have happily accepted going to hell, now, with your hot mouth melting into his like warm honey, he would accept the torture of eternal fire with a smile on his face.

And when the small kiss intensified into something much bigger, his hands, warm and masculine, wrapped possessively around your waist. There was no going back. There was no turning back. Five would keep you for himself in the same selfishness that a villain steals a princess. And there was no hero in the world capable of pulling you away of his clutches.

“Are you sure that’s what you want?” He found the last bit of strength to let you know when your hands untied his tie “I could really hurt you.”

But all good intentions evaporated when your eyes, eager and full of desire, blinked at him. There was an addictive sweetness in that look. The way your lashes fluttered against your cheeks, the way your eyes held tinges of delicious submission but hid an incendiary fire behind them.

Fucking damn. He wanted you so badly.

"I don't care." Your breathless whisper invaded the room. But he didn't know if you understood the seriousness of the situation.

“Y/n.” his hands cupped your face. “I spent a lot of time contenting just for the way you looked at me. Spending sleepless nights reliving what it was like to feel the contour of your waist in my hand.” His voice was serious, deep, rough like sand scraping against stone. “Do you have any idea of the things I'm going to do to you now that I can finally, finally, have you?” his pitch lowered a few notes, like a predator talking to its prey.

You didn't know it, but only imagination made yours thighs tighten.

“I can destroy you.” his lips went to the foot of your ear, down to the curve of your neck, inhaling your scent and tasting you. “I can leave your body purple, your breasts bitten, your hips marked by the aggressiveness of mine whenever I enter on you.”

A moan escaped your mouth, fingers tightening on his arms, head lolling to the side.

Oh lord, please he do that.

Five's hands went up to your shoulders, in a touch that became more and more possessive, gluttonous, as if he wanted to swallow you.

“I can spend hours fucking you.” his fingers lowered the straps of your dress, letting the fabric fall unceremoniously to the floor. Five pulled his face away enough to be able to look at your body fully, and a husky growl followed right away. “I can kill you.”

Here, in that moment, Five Hargreeves was giving you one last chance to give up, to make him tame the villain he was and who would destroy you for any other man.

If you slept with Five Hargreeves, you would never stop being his.

"Do it." but you didn't have an ounce of self-preservation in the inner body "please."

You didn't have to beg twice. His hands pulled your legs up, making you place your feet on his hips and hug him with your legs. Your back hit the closed bedroom door as Hargreeves' mouth claimed all it could of his. Twisting your tongue around his, biting and sucking on your bottom lip, he was beginning to mark you as his in a single kiss.

“You have no idea how much I want you.” his confession was more of a hoarse groan, hands fumbling with his belt and lowering the waistband of his pants.

Under other circumstances, he would have sucked you until drive you unconscious, pushing your walls with his fingers until you begged for his cock. But he didn't have the presence of mind to do that now. Not now. Not today. He warned of the consequences of wanting to continue at that moment. But you wanted, you begged, and now he was no longer afraid of being able to fuck you with all the vehemence he needed.

Your moans invaded the room very quickly, your waist, even if limited by the door, moved in his groin, exorcising any common sense and control that Five once had.

He pushed your panties to the side impolitely and entered you in one single, glorious, primal thrust. His cock slid in with extreme ease, being completely soaked by the way your pussy was so slick.

“Oh fucking hell” his growl sent even more waves of pleasure to your uterus, and you pressed your mouth to his neck to keep from screaming.

That's when he withdrew and pushed himself into you. Strong, brute. Hitting until found the bottom of the well. His thrusts began relentlessly, thrusting in and out of you aggressively, possessively, almost animalistic. Five's hands were all over yourbody, fingerprinting every bit of your flesh. The nails digging into your waist when you contracted and squeezed him within your plush walls.

“Fuck. fuck.” his groans mingled with the attrition of the bodies of you two against the door, which sent loud, telltale noises throughout the hotel.

But you would rather die than stop.

His cock suddenly hit a place that made your moans come out too loud. Tears began to pool in the corner of your eyes, and your toes curled.

“Oh do you feel this, baby?” Five teased you, digging himself as deep as possible anatomically and rubbing the tip of his cock there, eliciting sly, desperate cries from you "That's your cervix."

Then he went back to fucking you aggressively, this time pulling his chest away from you and digging his hands hard into the flesh of your hips, pulling you towards him at a intensity that could only be described as animalistic.

This was better than anything he had ever tasted in his life. Better than any sin. Better than any whiskey.

His cock desecrated your pussy like it was the only thing that mattered in the world, pulling thick liquids out of you that enveloped him in pasty white rings. Five Hargreeves would ensure that whenever you thought of any man, your mind was invaded by the way he fucked you.

"I will… I will…" your tearful voice blended with the noise of the door slamming and your bodies bumping into each other.

“Thats right, baby” his mouth covered your “cum for me. cum so I can fill that gluttonous pussy with my cum.”

If the way he thrust in and out of you wasn't enough to make you come, his lines had done the job. You came in a glorious explosion of stars, colors and sensations. Your body contracted with absurd force and relaxed like the best of massages. Your arms went limp around his neck, and you could feel his cock tremble and the hot, thick liquid fill your entire pussy.

The noise of the door stopped, his moans calmed down and now the only thing that could be heard was the heavy breathing in the air.

You thought it was over, until Five climbs a hand to your neck and lets out a broken growl "'You look so good with my hand wrapped around your throat, baby."

His cock moved inside you, moving in and out smoothly, pushing his cum even deeper inside you. Make sure you gobble it all up.

“Did you think we were done, princess?” he chuckled evilly, his lips moving closer until they were inches from yours. "I'm just getting started. I'm going to show you how much I've wanted you this whole fucking time.”

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 months

Text

my girl 1

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as possible age gap, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your brother's friend from work starts hanging out a lot more often. (short!reader)

Characters: Captain Syverson

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

The curtains stir in the summer breeze, the smell of pollen wafting in and tickling your nose. You scrunch your face, resisting as sneeze and flip the page of the book, your eyes racing across the letters, devouring them. After another year of academia, you’re all too eager to spend your summer devouring your ‘to read’ list.

The flick of pages marks the passage of time. You don’t sense how the sky sifts from a beaming yellow to a gentle blue. Not until the knock comes at the door and draws you from the world built of prose. You blink and lift your head, mark your page and leave it on your pillow. You push yourself across the low bed and yawn. Only as you don’t have words to read do you feel the fatigue in your eyes.

“Peanut,” your mother calls you by the childhood nickname you can’t seem to shake, “gonna help with dinner?”

You open the door to her and step out, “yeah, should do something.”

“You should,” she chides playfully. “I already got the roast beef in, just need you to do sides.”

“Great,” you shuffle down the hall behind her and rub your eyes. You don’t know if it’s allergies or reading that has you so dried out.

Downstairs, you go into the kitchen and the aroma of the roast has your mouth watering already. In your delve into the land of fantasy, you may have forgotten to feed yourself. It’s not an uncommon occurrence; during the school year, you often studied until your head pounded and your stomach roared. The human body tends only to get in the way of the mind.

You work at peeling potatoes as your mom takes out a medley of vegetables to put in a roasting pan. She seasons as you chop, the low murmur of her outdated music filling the hazy summer air. You can hear the children next door running around and the bristle of trees swaying in the wind.

“Oh, make sure to throw in a few extra, pea,” she says as you go to curl over the top of the bag, “your brother’s bringing his friend.”

“Friend? Johnny?” You wonder.

“That man from his work, Syverson,” she corrects, “with the beard.”

“Uh yeah, I remember.”

You’ve met Syverson, or Sy as he prefers. Your brother, Isaac, started his apprenticeship last summer with the man down at the metal shop. There are vague instances in your mind when you recall the large bearded man sitting at the table across from you. He’s older than your brother, you too. Probably closer to your parent’s age. He doesn’t say much either but he’s polite. You think.

You shrug and pull out some more potatoes to add to peel and cut. You do so quietly, your mind wandering back to your book even as the real world threatens to wipe it away. You’re so swept up in the fraught quest to reclaim a forgotten world that you can hardly focus on the blade.

You blink as the knife hits the board, too close to your thumb. Pay attention. Often your mom comments that you look far away and just as often you are. Existing in this world can be so boring. Potatoes and roast beef.

You rinse off the spuds and put them on to boil. You’ll mash them like you always do and add your mother’s ‘secret’ ingredient; herb and cheese sour cream. You’re pretty sure every mother on the block claims that as their little revolution.

As the water starts to steam, you hear a car pull up and a louder engine behind it. Your mom checks the beef, letting out a gust of savoury air. You are starving.

As you toss the peels in the bin, the front door opens. Isaac’s voice carries through the house as he chatters on about sparks and some work thing. Your mom’s head pops up as she waits eager for his appearance.

He peeks into the kitchen as a pair of footsteps follow behind him. You mom greets him with a kiss, “hello, bubby, how was your day?”

“Mom,” he scowls and wipes his cheek, “it was fine. Burnt myself pretty good.”

He shows a bandage on his forearm and shrugs. Your mother gasp, “oh, honey!”

“Told him to put his gauntlets on,” Syverson stands just beyond the doorway, his shadow looming like an evil orc in a cavern, waiting to pounce. You shake off the comparison as he comes into the light of the kitchen, a case of beer in hand. “Brought something for dinner,” he puts down the six-pack and shifts as you notice the red cap and label poking out from under his arm. He catches the bottle before it can slip and presents it to your mother, “and for the ladies.”

“Oh, Syverson, you’re always so sweet.”

“Mm, least I can do, y’all having me, feeding me,” he reaches to rub his neck. “Mind if I use the bathroom? Gotta wash my hands.”

“Course, dear, you know where it is,” she preens.

He leans on his back foot and his eyes glint in your direction. Despite his gruff exterior, his shaved head and thick beard, and his work-stained tee shirt, his eyes seem to sparkle, “evening,” he nods in your direction, as if he’s only just noticed you.

“Hi,” you murmur and turn back to wash the starch from the cutting board.

Having company is always awkward. You’re the only member of your family who isn’t very social. You have your classmates and a few friends you’ll hang out with on occasion but your parents and your brother always seem to have someone with them. If it isn’t one of your mom’s HOA accomplices, it’s one of your dad’s neighbourhood buddies arguing over the barbecue.

You continue to tidy up as you wait for the food to be ready. You take out some plates and cutlery, wanting to distract yourself by setting the table. You stack the plates and the utensil slides around on top as you carry them into the hallway. You have to stop short as you nearly collide with Sy.

“Sorry,” he apologises and backs up, “need help?”

He points to your armful and you smile and shake your head, “all good.”

“Don’t mind,” he says as he puts his large hands around the stack of plates. They’re pretty thick and heavy on their own but he takes them from you easily.

“Um, right, then I’ll get... cups.”

You turn back and flit into the kitchen. Your mom hums as she strains the potatoes. She doesn’t notice you counting glasses from the cupboard and balancing them all in your arms. You go down the hall, this time without obstacle, and into the dining room. You angle awkwardly to put down all the glasses at once.

Sy lays out the plates and cutlery one at a time, certain to have each perfectly centered and straight. He focuses on the task intently. The sight of his earnest effort contrasted by his burly figure is almost silly. You plunk down the glasses at the corner of each plate, staying on the other side of the table from him.

“Your back from school,” he says as he finishes, stepping back to cross his arms, making himself even larger. Most people are big compared to you.

“Mhmm,” you nod with a rigid tight-lipped grin.

“You graduate?” He asks.

You try not to show your surprise. You’re not sure you’ve ever had a conversation with him. It’s just nods and grunts sent in your direction. Just acknowledgement. Just courtesy.

“One more year,” you say, “erm, I’ll go help mom.”

“Right,” he drops his arms and grips the back of the chair in front of him, “don’t let me keep ya.”

You inch backwards and spin around, trying not to run away. It isn’t him. It’s you. It’s easier to read dialogue on a page and pretend it’s coming from your lips than it is to hold a conversation in real life. You would rather go back and finish your chapter then sit at the table and eat with your family, especially now that you’ve made it awkward.

#captain syverson #dark captain syverson #dark!captain syverson #captain syverson x reader #drabble #sandcastle #series #my girl #au

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homielander · 2 months

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the most superficial perspective on the small council scene is that alicent is coming to terms with the realization that the leopards will eat her face as well, and she is being denied power for being a woman just as rhaenyra has been...

but i do think there's a more interesting series of realizations going on. season 1 went to great lengths to show us that alicent's motive for usurping rhaenyra was not rooted in the belief that women are not fit to rule. she is a capable political actor herself and she advocated for rhaenyra to be queen when she was younger at the expense of her own standing. even her conversation with rhaenys at the end of the season suggested a resignation to the way of the world rather than a judgment on women's deficiencies.

alicent had other reasons for wanting to supplant rhaenyra: daemon, whom she saw as a complete wildcard, would have been dangerously close to the throne if rhaenyra did assume power, and she believed that she and otto could guide aegon to rule fairly under their experienced counsel. however, in this episode, the small council she presided over as a competent administrator for years rejected her proposition to rule and chose in her place: her dangerous, unstable son who has already proven resistant to guidance and quite literally triggered the war. over her! because a woman could not be allowed to reign when another woman was usurped for being one.

this is not to say that alicent lacked the awareness on a more detached level that rhaenyra's womanhood was the pretext used to usurp her, but this makes it much more visceral. the people who facilitated aegon's ascension were not motivated by the things she was. in conjunction with her discovery that the prophecy was not about aegon ii -- the prophecy that would have attached some divine purpose to all of her pain, allowed her suffering to mean something -- alicent is really beginning to question why she is doing any of this at all.

#maybe i'm saying the same thing as 'she didn't think the leopards would eat her face' but i do think we r overlooking the dimensions here #alicent hightower #house of the dragon #hotd spoilers

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hayatheauthor · 22 days

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Surviving the Wilderness: Writing Realistic 'Lost in the Woods' Scenarios

The wilderness, with its vastness and unpredictability, can turn from serene to menacing in an instant. For writers, depicting a character who is lost in the woods offers a rich tapestry of emotions, challenges, and survival instincts to explore. But to do so effectively requires a blend of authenticity, attention to detail, and understanding the real-world repercussions of such an event.

Whether your character is an experienced outdoorsman or a city dweller thrown into the wild, this guide will help you craft a realistic narrative that resonates with readers.

1. Setting Up the Scenario

A. Choosing the Right Wilderness Environment

The first step in creating a believable lost-in-the-woods scenario is choosing the appropriate setting. Different types of wilderness present different challenges, and the environment you choose will shape the narrative.

Type of Forest: Consider the differences between dense forests, temperate rainforests, boreal woods, and tropical jungles. A dense forest might offer limited visibility and a disorienting array of trees, while a tropical jungle could present humidity, dangerous wildlife, and thick undergrowth. Each environment comes with unique hazards and characteristics that will impact your character’s journey.

Seasonal Considerations: The time of year plays a significant role in the story. In winter, your character might face snow, freezing temperatures, and the challenge of finding food. In summer, they might struggle with dehydration, heat exhaustion, or the difficulty of navigating through thick foliage. The season will also affect the availability of resources, like water and shelter.

Location-Specific Details: Consider the unique features of the chosen location. Is it known for dangerous wildlife, such as bears or wolves? Does the terrain include steep cliffs, rivers, or swamps? Researching the specific area can add layers of realism to your story, providing challenges that are true to the environment.

B. Character Background

The character’s background is crucial in determining how they will respond to being lost. Their level of experience, purpose for being in the woods, and psychological state all influence their actions.

Experience Level: Are they an experienced hiker with survival skills, or are they a city dweller with little knowledge of the outdoors? An experienced character might know how to build a shelter and find water, while an inexperienced one might make dangerous mistakes. Balancing their skills with the challenges they face can create tension and interest.

Purpose of the Trip: Why is your character in the woods? Whether they’re on a leisurely hike, conducting research, or fleeing from danger, their purpose will affect their preparedness and mindset. A hiker might have a map and supplies, while someone fleeing might have nothing but the clothes on their back.

Psychological State: Consider the character’s mental condition before they get lost. Are they overconfident, stressed, or fearful? Their psychological state will influence their decisions—overconfidence might lead to risky choices, while fear could cause them to panic. Understanding their mindset will help you write a more nuanced and realistic portrayal.

C. The Catalyst: How They Get Lost

The moment when a character realizes they are lost is a critical point in the narrative. How this happens can be gradual or sudden, depending on the story you want to tell.

Common Triggers: Characters can become lost for various reasons, such as deviating from a marked trail, encountering sudden weather changes, sustaining an injury, or simply having poor navigation skills. Each trigger offers different narrative possibilities—an injury might limit their mobility, while poor navigation could lead them deeper into danger.

Pacing: Decide how quickly your character realizes they are lost. It could be a slow realization as they fail to find familiar landmarks, or it could be immediate, such as after an unexpected event like a storm or injury. The pacing of this moment will set the tone for the rest of the story.

2. Writing the Experience of Being Lost

A. The Initial Panic

When a character first realizes they are lost, their initial reactions are often driven by panic. This moment is crucial for establishing the tone of the story and the character’s mental state.

Physical Reactions: Describe the character’s immediate physical responses, such as an elevated heart rate, adrenaline rush, sweating, and shortness of breath. These physiological reactions are the body’s natural response to fear and uncertainty.

Mental Reactions: Mentally, the character might experience denial, anxiety, or confusion. They might try to convince themselves that they aren’t really lost or that they’ll find their way back soon. This denial can lead to irrational decisions, like wandering in circles or making impulsive choices.

Immediate Actions: The character’s first actions after realizing they’re lost are critical. They might attempt to retrace their steps, call for help if they have a phone signal, or check the time to gauge how long they’ve been lost. These actions are often driven by the hope of quickly resolving the situation.

B. The Descent into Survival Mode

Once the character accepts that they are truly lost, the story shifts from panic to survival. This is where the character’s skills, or lack thereof, come into play.

Acceptance of the Situation: The character moves from panic to a more rational state of mind. They begin to assess their situation and prioritize their needs. This shift marks the beginning of their survival journey.

Basic Needs: The character will need to address their most immediate survival needs: shelter, water, food, and fire. Describe their efforts to find or create shelter, locate water sources, forage for food, and start a fire. Each of these tasks presents its own challenges and dangers.

Navigational Challenges: As the character tries to find their way, they will face navigational challenges. Dense foliage, fog, and the lack of clear landmarks can make it difficult to maintain a sense of direction. The character might struggle with the disorientation that comes from being surrounded by identical trees or losing sight of the sun.

C. Emotional and Psychological Effects

The emotional and psychological toll of being lost is significant and should be explored in depth.

Isolation and Fear: The character’s sense of isolation can amplify their fear. The fear of predators, injuries, or never being found can become overwhelming. This fear might cause the character to make rash decisions, or it could paralyze them, preventing them from taking action.

Hope vs. Despair: The character’s emotional journey will likely fluctuate between moments of hope and despair. They might find something that gives them hope, such as a sign of civilization or a source of water, only to be crushed when they realize it was a false lead.

Hallucinations and Delusions: In extreme situations, such as severe dehydration or starvation, the character might experience hallucinations or delusions. These can add an element of psychological horror to the narrative and further illustrate the severity of their situation.

D. Interaction with Nature

The character’s interaction with the natural environment is a key aspect of their survival story.

Wildlife Encounters: Depending on the location, the character might encounter dangerous wildlife, such as bears, wolves, or snakes. Describe these encounters realistically, focusing on the character’s fear and the steps they take to avoid or confront these animals.

Environmental Hazards: The natural environment presents its own set of dangers, such as quicksand, poisonous plants, and unstable terrain. The character might have to navigate these hazards while dealing with their growing exhaustion and fear.

Natural Resources: The character can use nature to their advantage by finding water, edible plants, or materials for building a shelter. This not only adds realism to the story but also gives the character moments of small victories that can keep them going.

3. Survival Tactics: What Works and What Doesn't

A. Basic Survival Skills

Understanding and depicting basic survival skills is crucial for writing a realistic lost-in-the-woods scenario.

Finding Water: Water is the most critical resource for survival. Describe how the character identifies potential water sources, such as streams or dew on leaves, and how they purify water to make it safe to drink. If they can’t find water, their condition will deteriorate rapidly, leading to severe dehydration.

Building Shelter: The character needs shelter to protect themselves from the elements. Whether they find a natural shelter, like a cave, or build one from branches and leaves, this task is essential for their survival. The process of building shelter also gives the character a sense of purpose and control over their situation.

Starting a Fire: Fire is essential for warmth, cooking, and protection from predators. Describe the challenges of starting a fire in the wild, especially if the wood is wet or the character lacks the proper tools. The ability to start and maintain a fire can be a turning point in the character’s survival story.

Foraging for Food: Finding food in the wild is difficult and dangerous. The character might forage for berries, roots, or small animals. Describe the risks of eating unknown plants or the difficulty of catching and preparing small game.

B. Navigational Techniques

Navigation is a critical aspect of survival, and the character’s ability to orient themselves can mean the difference between life and death.

Reading the Environment: The character might use the sun, stars, or natural landmarks to navigate. Describe how they attempt to determine their direction, and the challenges they face if the sky is cloudy or if they’re in a dense forest where the canopy blocks out the sun. Their ability to read the environment will depend on their prior knowledge and experience.

Using Makeshift Tools: If the character has access to materials like sticks, rocks, or even a piece of reflective metal, they might create makeshift tools like a compass or use shadows to determine direction. These improvisational skills can add a layer of resourcefulness to the character’s survival tactics.

Trail Marking: If the character decides to explore the area in hopes of finding a way out, they might mark their trail to avoid walking in circles. They could use stones, branches, or even carve symbols into trees. This tactic not only helps with navigation but also adds to the tension if they realize they’ve returned to a previously marked spot, indicating they’ve been moving in circles.

C. Mistakes and Misconceptions

Realistic survival stories often include mistakes that characters make, especially if they are inexperienced.

Following Streams Incorrectly: A common misconception is that following a stream will always lead to civilization. While it can lead to water sources, it might also take the character deeper into the wilderness. Highlight the risks of relying on this tactic without proper knowledge.

Overestimating Stamina: Characters might push themselves too hard, assuming they can keep going without rest. Overestimating their stamina can lead to exhaustion, injuries, or even fatal mistakes. Describing the physical toll of these decisions can add realism and tension to the narrative.

Eating Dangerous Plants: Foraging for food can be deadly if the character lacks knowledge of the local flora. Describe how they might mistake poisonous plants for edible ones, leading to illness or hallucinations. This mistake can be a significant plot point, demonstrating the dangers of the wilderness.

4. Realistic Repercussions of Being Lost

A. Physical Consequences

Being lost in the wilderness for an extended period can have severe physical repercussions.

Dehydration and Starvation: The longer the character is lost, the more their body will deteriorate. Dehydration can set in within a few days, leading to confusion, dizziness, and eventually death. Starvation takes longer but will cause weakness, muscle loss, and an inability to think clearly.

Injuries: Describe any injuries the character sustains, such as sprains, cuts, or broken bones. These injuries will hinder their ability to move and survive. If left untreated, even minor injuries can become infected, leading to serious complications.

Exposure: Depending on the environment, the character might suffer from exposure to the elements. Hypothermia can occur in cold conditions, while heatstroke is a risk in hot climates. Both conditions are life-threatening and require immediate attention.

B. Psychological Consequences

The psychological toll of being lost is often as severe as the physical consequences.

Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD): Even after being rescued, the character might suffer from PTSD, experiencing flashbacks, nightmares, and severe anxiety. Describe how their ordeal has changed them, affecting their ability to return to normal life.

Survivor’s Guilt: If the character was lost with others who didn’t survive, they might experience survivor’s guilt. This emotional burden can be overwhelming, leading to depression and difficulty coping with their survival.

Long-Term Anxiety: The fear of being lost again can cause long-term anxiety and phobias. The character might avoid certain environments or experience panic attacks in similar situations.

C. Legal Consequences

There are also legal and financial repercussions to consider, especially if the character’s actions led to their getting lost.

Search and Rescue Costs: In many places, the cost of search and rescue operations can be billed to the person who was lost, especially if they were negligent or broke the law. This can be a significant financial burden and add a layer of realism to your story.

Negligence and Liability: If the character’s actions endangered others, such as leaving a marked trail or ignoring warnings, they might face legal consequences for negligence. This could include fines, community service, or even jail time, depending on the severity of their actions.

Impact on Relationships: The ordeal of getting lost can strain relationships with family and friends. Describe how their loved ones react—do they blame the character, or are they just relieved they’re safe? The legal and financial consequences can also impact these relationships, leading to tension and conflict.

5. Writing Tips: Making It Believable

Crafting a realistic and compelling lost-in-the-woods narrative requires attention to detail and an understanding of the human experience in such extreme situations. Here are some tips to make your story believable:

A. Research and Authenticity

Understand the Terrain: Before writing, research the specific environment where your character will be lost. Whether it's a dense forest, a mountainous region, or a desert, understanding the flora, fauna, and climate will help you create an authentic setting. Pay attention to details like the types of trees, animals, weather patterns, and geographical features.

Learn Basic Survival Techniques: Familiarize yourself with basic survival skills, such as building a shelter, finding water, and starting a fire. Even if your character is inexperienced, knowing the correct methods will allow you to portray their struggles accurately.

Incorporate Local Myths and Folklore: If your story is set in a particular region, consider integrating local myths or folklore about the wilderness. This can add depth to the narrative and give the environment a more ominous or mystical feel.

B. Character Realism

Establish Their Skills Early: If your character has any survival skills, establish them early in the story. This could be through flashbacks, previous experiences, or hints in their background. This will make their actions in the woods more believable.

Show Their Vulnerability: Even the most prepared individuals can make mistakes. Show your character’s vulnerability by having them face setbacks, make poor decisions, or struggle with their emotions. This makes them more relatable and human.

Reflect Their Mental State: The character's psychological state should evolve throughout the story. Show how their thoughts shift from initial panic to determination, despair, and finally, either acceptance or a desperate push for survival. Use internal monologue, dreams, or hallucinations to illustrate their mental state.

C. Plot and Pacing

Balance Action with Reflection: While the physical actions of survival are crucial, so is the internal journey of the character. Balance scenes of intense activity, like building a shelter or escaping a predator, with quieter moments of reflection or memory.

Use Sensory Details: Engage the reader’s senses by describing the environment through sights, sounds, smells, and even touch. The rustling of leaves, the scent of pine, or the rough bark of a tree can immerse readers in the setting and heighten the tension.

Avoid Convenient Resolutions: Survival stories are often about struggle and perseverance. Avoid giving your character an easy way out, such as a sudden rescue or finding a cabin with supplies. Instead, focus on their gradual adaptation and the hard choices they have to make.

D. Dialogue and Interactions

Internal Dialogue: In situations where the character is alone, internal dialogue becomes crucial. Use it to explore their fears, hopes, and regrets. This can also be a way to explain their thought process and decision-making.

Flashbacks and Memories: If your character is alone, use flashbacks or memories to develop their backstory and explain their motivations. These can also serve as a contrast to their current situation, highlighting how far they’ve come or what they’ve lost.

Interactions with the Environment: Treat the wilderness as a character in itself. The environment should interact with the character, creating obstacles, providing resources, and affecting their mood and decisions.

Looking For More Writing Tips And Tricks?

Are you an author looking for writing tips and tricks to better your manuscript? Or do you want to learn about how to get a literary agent, get published and properly market your book? Consider checking out the rest of Quillology with Haya Sameer; a blog dedicated to writing and publishing tips for authors! While you’re at it, don’t forget to head over to my TikTok and Instagram profiles @hayatheauthor to learn more about my WIP and writing journey!

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lucysarah-c · 10 months

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Not in season? Pt. 2

Summary: Winter had settled in, and the scouts were busy training and preparing for the prospects of spring, still far away, to retake Wall Maria. Despite the snow accumulating outside, the building was freezing cold, and the world had secluded itself until the temperature rose. So, why was Captain Levi boiling in his own body? Something felt off, but his mind was quickly slipping into insanity as he tried to find a rational explanation.

Part 1!! Author note:: I've had this idea for so long… Omegaverse is my guilty pleasure, and I decided to treat myself with it. I'm self-conscious about my smut, so… practice makes perfect. That's it. In case I forget any warning or tag, feel free to remind me. Pairing: Levi x fem! reader. Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha Levi Ackerman, Top Levi Ackerman, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mating Bites, Mating Bond, Possessive Levi Ackerman, Possessive Sex, Possessive Behavior, Knotting, Dubious Consent, Rough Sex, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Multiple Orgasms, Smut, Breeding, Forced breeding, Biting, Breeding Kink, dubcon, Unplanned Pregnancy, Pregnancy Kink, Forced Pregnancy, Unsafe Sex, Nurse reader, Alpha Levi x Omega reader, Captain Levi Ackerma, Captain Levi x Nurse Reader, Dirty talk, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Alpha Hange Zoë, Alpha/Omega, Alpha Erwin Smith, Alpha Eren Yeager, Alpha Jean Kirstein, Alpha Mikasa Ackerman. Omegaverse. Word count: 10.8k You had been warned lmao

Tags!: @nmlkys @jimoonbeau @fictiondrunk @notgoodforlife @nube55 @justkon @i-literally-cant-with-this @darkstarlight82 @thoreeo @quillinhand @humanitys-strongest-bamf @levisbrat25 @angelofthorr @aomi04 @s0meb0dy-0nce-t0ld-me @fxnnyackerman @trashblackrainbow @secretmoneybearvoid @b4rb3qu3 @vickybeexd @mindfulsreposts @blueeclipsepaperstudent @vegetasgirl2799 Wanna join my tag list? Here!

Time—time was needed, whether it be a refreshing shower or a bucket of snow from outside the building thrown at him. Anything that could pull any part of his consciousness back to work. As her lips moved and the sounds of her mouth echoed softly, his mind wondered if she was truly awake or if it was unconscious spasms. He sat on the mattress, eyes fixed on her features, waiting, expecting anything.

Carefully and delicately, he crawled out of bed, like a mother leaving a baby in a room without waking it up. When his feet touched the floor, he almost tripped on something. His eyes surveyed the mess, and he fought every inch of his body not to go on a cleaning rampage. The only reason stopping him? She moved, flexing one leg up for more comfort, and he swore he didn��t mean to stare. His attention moving on its own over her body, focusing on the mating mark—his mating mark—most impressively, his own release between her legs.

Pulsations in his head, frowning as the pain appeared. That was the reason stopping him from tidying up the room, each breath triggering demands like “one more” and “just one more... to be sure.” He needed to scratch every skin cell with bleach if necessary, with the coldest water and the sharpest brush. Her scent, the aphrodisiac almost cloying aroma her body expelled, clouded his judgment. He picked up the crumpled sheets at the edge of the bed to gently cover her frame.

So that was exactly what he did—locked the door, turned on the rushing water without waiting for it to warm up, and jumped straight in. Regrets filled his mind; he had never behaved this way before. Alphas unable to control themselves, using heats or ruts as excuses, were something he despised. Perhaps even more than he hated MPs. The consequences were obvious; he had claimed her. Between Alphas and Omegas, a claiming mark was more powerful than any wedding ring.

‘What if...’ his consciousness brought up once again as he quickly tidied up his appearance. Dark locks swayed as he shook his head forcefully, erasing the thought. ‘We will cross that bridge when we get there.’ Once rational thoughts replaced the arousal haze, anxiety kicked in. It felt loud inside his head, too many worries in such a small period. He wasn’t sure what was worse at this rate.

Blessing any existing god out there, his bathroom and the drawers with clothes were tidied up enough to find objects quickly. The dips of his hair dripped water almost everywhere. On other occasions, he would have waited until it dried a bit before anything else, but his mind was clouded with one priority—being in the room when she woke up. The idea of her waking up alone in his twisted sheets and undone bed, feeling used or discarded, was like a stab to his own morality.

Heavy with water, hair fell into his face. He pushed it backward as his hand ran through his locks while searching for a shirt to wear. A pair of sweatpants was on, and this time, he was wearing underwear—the first garment he put on as the idea of his nudity made him uneasy. The Captain tried to put the uniform on, perhaps to finally go back to work after so many days, but he felt sensitive in places that would probably make him ashamed to confess. Tight white jeans were the last thing he desired right now.

Gripping the edges of a simple white shirt to push it over his head, turning around and resting on the chest of drawers as he did. Pushing down the fabric, only to find two half-lidded eyes looking at him. Frozen in place, as if he waited for the bullet to pierce through his forehead. Slow blinks as he noticed her trying to gulp, her eyes focusing on him. On other occasions, he might consider how endearing and sexually appealing she looked while sleepily laying on her side, with the sheet sticking to the curve of her waist. Suddenly, the edge of the sheet was pushed upwards, clinging to her body as she sat down erratically.

‘Here we go,’ mentally preparing himself.

“Levi?!” The confusion in her tone, the desperation in her eyes judging him across the room. “What- What happened? What is this?!”

His lips parted softly as if he gathered what he could possibly answer. Her feet became exposed as she kept tugging on the sheet to cover her body. “Where are my clothes?”

“I—” Levi murmured, his voice sounding rough and raspy as he hadn’t spoken for a good couple of hours while his eyes searched on the floor for any piece of garment that didn’t belong to him. “I don’t know.”

“What time is it? What day is it? How—”

“Look,” one of his hands raised as the other gripped the edge of the furniture behind him, grounding him to reality. “I’ve as much information as you.”

A hiss of pain pierced through the room as she frowned deeply. Her hands instinctively reaching backward to her nape as the other tightly gripped the sheet against her chest. Confusion palpable in her face as, with drawn-together eyebrows and parted lips, she admired leftover blood in her hand from a wound that was probably repeated over the past few days.

“You... you marked me?” her voice sounded distant. “But... I’m a beta.”

Quick was him to add, “Yes, about that,” as if this was the only question on an exam’s sheet that he knew and was eager to answer. “No.”

Her accusing eyes were back on him, not looking very pleased. “What do you mean? I’m 24 years old, I can’t present now. I’m a beta.”

“Yeah,” he repeated this time less sure, “No…”

She scoffed, offended that he doubted her word. “You’re saying you know more than me about myself? Than doctors? Than my own enlistment sheet?”

Levi clicked his tongue and softly shook his head, “I ain’t no doctor, I’m just stating the shitty facts I got, and those are that alphas can’t claim betas,” his words seemed heavy with the weight of his own thoughts. “And betas don’t trigger a fucking rut of days into me. You got both.”

His lips pursed together, head tilted downwards, and looking to his right. Being subtle and diplomatic with his words wasn’t what he was known for, and therefore he was trying his best to control his sharp tongue. She seemed obviously confused and scared. Society had certain implicit rules and expectations learned after presentation that Alphas and Omegas learned across the way as they grew. Himself had taught Eren when he presented that the brat couldn’t go around baring teeth and sniffing around if there was an Omega, to get a hold of their instincts. Couldn’t even imagine how it felt to find out about it so late in life.

“Are you implying this was my fault?” Her eyes appeared reflective, and he hated that.

“No, that ain’t what I said,” He quickly restored, involuntarily getting defensive. “Look, let’s—” his right hand raised once again trying to get his point across. Now presented, he could perceive her uneasiness in the air.

“Don’t you dare to tell me to calm down,” the way she spat each word and the anger in her tone caught him off guard.

His unwillingness to add to the issue made the hand that was reaching out softly switch to the right, pointing to the door as he spoke. “Let’s take a shower,” he rearranged his statement, “I bet the water warmed up already. Why don’t you take a shower while I clean this pigsty?”

While the uneasiness in the room lingered as the stale air, the hostile undertones seemed to withdraw slowly as her attention focused on the bedroom’s floor, allowing Levi a moment of freedom from her demanding glance. “I— I’ve nothing to wear when I come out.”

As the soldier he was, ready to break from the shock and jump into the battlefield, it snapped him. Turning around to quickly gather the first pieces of garments he could find and handing them back to her. “There are towels in the bathroom.”

Y/N grabbed the pile of clothes and carefully put her feet back on the floor as she descended the bed, taking the sheet with her as if it could provide any sort of protection. Once the door was shut close, Levi let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. It hadn’t been easier than he anticipated. In reality, he had anticipated nothing, so her not snapping him across the face was already a win.

Though he dedicated himself to picking up the remaining food and belongings scattered on the floor, the bitten loaves of bread, now growing mold, made him grimace uneasily and blush slightly in shame. Images of him hastily consuming the food until crawling back to bed played in his mind. Being reduced to such an animalistic state brewed a self-absorbed shame that was hard to explain. Perhaps it felt akin to the last time he had experienced a rut, despite not being with an omega—back in his early to mid-twenties, nearly a decade ago. The closest feeling that mirrored his shame was as if he had regressed to bedwetting or, more accurately, having to wash sheets after a wet dream. While it was natural for alphas to suffer ruts twice a year upon reaching adulthood, the years without them left him feeling wrong.

Opening the window, he noticed the early morning glow in the sky. Inhaling fresh breaths, he felt a chill like sinking into frozen water. Both the office and bedroom windows were open, creating an airflow. Finally, out of his bedroom, he surveyed his suspiciously tidy office. Despite his hazy state, he seemed to have confined himself to lurking in his bedroom. A thin layer of dust, perceptible only to him, hinted that more days had passed than he anticipated. "There you are," he murmured, his eyes fixed on two pieces of clothing strewn on the floor—a nightgown and a cardigan. Picking them up, he folded them together.

The sound of the bathroom door's knob opening caught his attention. Instead of leading to the bedroom, she emerged from the entrance that connected to the office. Uncertain, he stood still as her presence appeared again, holding folded bedsheets in her arms. The grey trousers and black turtleneck sweater she wore belonged to him. Their eyes met again; she seemed not to expect this encounter.

"Uhm... I'm going to my room," she muttered, avoiding eye contact. "Your sheets."

Levi extended his hand to accept her offer and handed her the folded clothes. He tried to engage the part of his brain responsible for social interaction to come up with an appropriate response. She took her clothes, mumbled a "Thank you," and left. Standing there, looking at the closed door, he felt confused, ashamed, and doubtful. Should he have said something? Done something? Well, in his mind, he had done enough—more than enough.

‘Perhaps she needs time,’ he tried to rationalize the situation, but the painful short stabs in his body were something he wasn’t used to. His body wasn’t happy that he had let go of his mate, his perhaps pregnant mate. Instincts demanded once again; she may be carrying his offspring, and he just let her go—undefended, unprotected, to God knows where! ‘I know where, to her shitty room,’ he muttered under his breath as he argued against himself.

Slender fingers scratched the back of his head, searching for mental peace. The growl of his stomach gave him an answer to the roaming question in his mind—what to do now? Search for food, apparently. The coldness of the air coming through the open windows made him shiver; feeling something other than scorching heat was refreshing. The walk of shame down the halls to the higher-ups' kitchen was reduced slightly by the early hours and its lack of people around. Continually sighing while thinking that anything inside the kitchen would be devoured. If it was from anyone else, he would apologize later; right now, he felt as if he had gone out and gotten pissed drunk the night before—overwhelmingly starving.

“Well well well, look who finally came out from his bunker,”

Levi did a quick side-eye contact as he bit on a piece of bread with cheese on top while he cooked himself breakfast, unable to wait until the actual meal was finished. Groaning an acknowledging reply to Hange as he had his mouth full.

“If it wasn’t for the very loud awkward noises that came from your room, I would have declared you dead already,” the mischievous smile was even perceptible in their tone as they wrapped an arm around the man’s shoulders.

“I’m not in the mood, four eyes,” the captain muttered once he had swallowed the food.

“Unbelievable, you are the lucky bastard who had been getting laid for almost twelve days straight, and you’re in a bad mood?! Nothing can make you stop being grumpy, isn’t it?” Hange said clearly entertained, but their words made Levi’s eyes sparkle.

“Twelve days? What day is it?”

Hange began to chuckle before replying, “18th of November. You owe me one; I had been training your squad and doing your paperwork for two weeks.”

Uneasy groans of complaint echoed in the small kitchen as he stirred around the eggs with the bacon. His deadly eyes met the other squad leader, “Owe you? You should have kept everyone out of my room! You realize what I’ve just done?”

Hange raised both of their hands in the air, “Wow wow, slow down! How is this my fault?” Their loud complaints were quick to arrive as Levi muttered bitter replies under his breath, “How was I supposed to know she was an omega? And even if I found out, you would have ripped my arms off just for the sake of mating with her.”

“Yeah... you’re fucking right, goddamned it,” Levi accepted it resigned.

“Where's your baby girl?” Hange’s cheeky personality was quick to return. “Making breakfast for your wifey?”

“Don’t call her that,” Levi spit out, “In her room, she left.”

It was the squad leader’s time to groan uneasily, “You let your newly presented and bonded mate leave? And you call yourself a high breed Alpha?”

If it was even possible, Levi frowned more deeply. “What was I supposed to do?” he dragged the words as he muttered them under his breath, putting his breakfast out of the pan. “Kidnap her in my room?”

Hange, who grabbed a piece of bacon from the plate to eat, owned a tired dead gaze from Levi, only to see him roll his eyes as the squad leader complained about it burning their fingers and being hot while they tried to eat it anyway. “Well,” they chuckled with their mouth full, “You kidnapped her there for twelve days, one more one less wasn’t going to make a difference.”

The captain tiredly sighed echoed as he grabbed his plate and tugged it away from the other alpha before they devoured it all. Carefully putting the dishes in a tray with a tea set for the rest of the morning, ready to find solitude in his chambers again.

“By the way,” Hange added again, “When do you think the due date is? Erwin and I have a bet on who is going to be cool uncle.”

Levi stopped midway as he was about to leave the kitchen, raising an eyebrow as he turned to face the brunette. “Why the hell were you and Eyebrows talking about that shit?”

The other alpha simply shrugged and then commented, entertained, “It was hard not to talk about it. You two weren’t particularly hush about it, you know? We’re entitled to talk about it after enduring almost two weeks of hearing you two mate like wild animals.”

Uneasy groans mixed with his ashamed grimace at the mere thought. It didn’t help that the titan lover kept going, “You know, we both concluded that we can’t believe we thought of her as a beta.” Their comment, made with the same unbothered attitude as Hange was known for rambling about topics, didn’t match with Levi's shift in attitude. First, the confusion surpassed his previous shame, only to then demand an explanation with his fierce, sharp eyes. Hange began to chuckle nervously as they thought that, perhaps, they shouldn’t have said that. “Well... you know...” they muttered, feeling the short man’s anger, “… it’s impossible that was a beta’s ass.”

Two alphas, closed in a room talking about his omega’s ass. It’s the best ass in the walls, don’t get him wrong, but he’s the only one allowed to make that observation... at least publicly.

“Ugh,” Hange complained loudly as they walked down a hall.

Erwin looked at the squad leader confused and highlighted, “I saw Levi’s window open; he’s finally out?” then added, “Are you alright?”

“Levi kicked me,” they replied as they caressed their butt.

Shaking his head slightly and sighing as if he were dealing with children, “I told you not to tell him anything weird while he still had a cocktail of hormones inside him,” the commander simply reproached them.

The thud of the forehead impacting with the harsh oak wood of the desk, the deep breath that came out as a scoff, fogging up the surface, the subtle sleet hitting the windows’ glass behind before turning into snow once again, dark locks tangling as they fell forward graciously, and the clock in the office announcing it was almost midnight. ‘I survived.’ Those felt like accurate words despite his line of work; his body felt as if he had been grabbed by a titan and snapped against those big trees. His body felt in better shape when he came back from an expedition, and he wasn’t lying. Not even the best intentions and the hardest mental strength could force him to go to training with his squad; the kids had been annoyingly supportive of hearing him feel better from his “cold.”

The muscles of his legs twitched involuntarily, and the muscles of his body felt like jelly; his brain fogged with tiredness. Blaming it completely on the drop in hormones that forced him to be on top of his game, now he felt as if he was suffering withdrawal. Any mix of substances that his body produced in excess during his rut to secure the stamina to endure the mating, the strength and sharpness to be ready to fight for his breeding right, and also to protect him and his mate during the period the pheromones could have driven someone into their nest had fulfilled its role. Now, without them and the tiredness of the aftermath of forcing his body into them, it had left him feeling as if someone had smashed all his bones. Adding to that, his instincts didn’t cease to remind him to stay close to his mate, whom he hadn’t seen all day. In normal situations, newly mated couples would have nested until both felt back to their usual selves and, more importantly, until the claiming mark settled and marked forever their bond.

If he had three surviving brain cells after everything, two were completely dedicated to reminding him that whatever they should be doing as mates, he simply wasn’t doing it. Gritting his teeth as his instincts having power over him was starting to drive him nuts. It’s not that he didn’t want to talk to her, but he also wished to respect her space. Tired eyes, half-lidded, looked through his dark and dense eyelashes as he checked the clock after it began to announce midnight. The only few times he had left his chambers to pick up and deliver paperwork and during meals to check on his squad, he hadn’t seen her. And from what he subtly asked, nobody else had either.

This anxiety and uncertainty in him weren’t normal; he was usually decisive. The tip of the fountain pen hit against the paper, leaving little dots as he pondered the idea of checking on her, trying to decipher if it was his instincts talking or actual rational thoughts.

“Fuck it,”

White rice with butter and cheese in a bowl, carried on a tray, sliced apples, chamomile tea. Were the rumors true that omegas felt nauseous during post-mating syndrome? He wasn't sure, but he wasn't going to take risks. Had he overdone it? His anxiety replied positively. His lack of security wasn't something he enjoyed, and his knuckles hesitated to knock on the infirmary's door that led to her personal chambers inside. Forcing himself, one, two, three knocks resounded too much for his liking in the middle of the night.

Time seemed to move slowly, and he seriously considered leaving the food there. Then the door creaked, and her tired eyes observed him from the gap.

"I-Uh... I brought you some supper," Levi mentioned, slightly raising the tray as if the metal piece with food on top wasn't enough indication.

The heavy dark circles under her eyes, the reflection in them, and her uneven look. She had seen better days; they had seen better days. Her silence gnawed at his sanity, and he seriously considered that interacting was easier when they were both intoxicated with their own hormones. Plus, his awkwardness and lack of social skills made him conclude that, perhaps, his body was right, and the only way he could engage in producing offspring was clouding his judgment completely.

"Everything smells very strong, makes me nauseous," her voice, subtle as the flight of a moth in the middle of the night, murmured as her hands gripped the edge of the door, resting her face and weight on it. "It's very overwhelming."

Levi readjusted his weight to the other leg and gave it a thought. "It's natural; you'll get used to it," he replied shortly, "and learn to kinda switch off your brain to not pay attention to every piece of nonsense."

He, for example, could perceive it all. She was like an open book, her distress, confusion, and now subtle tints of happiness that he tried to attribute to her body reacting positively to the proximity of him as her mate. It was, in a sense, a bit endearing how she wasn't able to control her pheromones yet.

Y/N's soft chuckles caught his attention as the air turned sweet, and she smiled softly. "You know a lot," she replied. Unconsciously, it boosted his pride; her body reacted positively and relaxed in his presence.

"I presented when I was 11, an early bloomer. I remember wanting to rip off my shitty nose from my face," his comment made her chuckle again, and it made him wish he had something else to say to earn another smile.

She let the door adorned with a small brass plaque that simply read "Infirmary" slide open and stepped to a side as a subtle indication he was welcome in. Levi had been there too many times, none of them for himself but usually because Jean and Eren fought again. As one entered, the scent of antiseptic greeted them, mingling with the faint aroma of old wood and polished linoleum floors and hers that it took all his willpower to fight against. If his body was trying to return to its normal working system, her uncontrolled liberation of pheromones was like a punch in the gut that he tried to hide.

The walls were painted in a soothing, muted colour to create an illusion of calmness, while the tall, narrow windows allowed slivers of nightlight to filter through dusty curtains. Rows of narrow iron beds lined the room, each neatly made with crisp white sheets and thin, worn blankets. A wooden cabinet filled with basic medical supplies, from bandages to cough syrup, occupied one corner, its glass doors revealing caramel bottles with remedies.

A small desk in the corner held a register where ailments and treatments were meticulously recorded with pen and ink. A single, dim lamp illuminated the desk, casting a pool of light in an otherwise subdued room. One small door that mimetite with the walls, led to her personal chambers. They were very similar to his, slightly smaller and with a small round table probably to fill up the lack of an office. And, of course, a bathroom with two doors, one leading to the infirmary and another to her room. He left the tray on the table, and his eyes did a quick check on her room, mostly out of curiosity.

It was tidy, not to his standards but nice. The bed was made, and the sort of femininity that the place radiated made him giggle or nervous from inside. Perhaps it was the crochet table runner, the bed's scarf, the small pots with plants on the window frame, the body lotions next to the bed. The attention to details that he, despite living in his own space for longer, hadn't thought of buying, and she had insisted on making the place her own despite the lugged bags still being around as she hadn't been done unpacking yet. It all made him wonder when the last time had been he had been at a woman's place; the life in the scouts really makes nights lonely.

Not wanting to overstay his visit, he was ready to leave. But as she sat down on her small table, her hand reached out to grip his forearm and look up to him. "Stay; it makes my mind so calm and quiet when you're around," she said without any restrictions.

"It's the bond," Levi murmured, but he sat down anyway. Trying to disguise how mentally peaceful himself was now that they were close, his possessiveness of "what if there's another alpha around when I'm not there? What if she lets another alpha claim her to change the mark when it's still too fresh?" quickly subsided.

She took quiet and slow spoon feed portions of the rice, and he tried to glue his eyes on anything else to not make her feel observed while eating. Her loud tired sighs filled the extremely uncomfortable silence, "you know... my life was way easier when I was a beta."

Levi hummed in appreciation, "I bet," he added without much to say.

"It's a very weird feeling, bittersweet perhaps," Y/N murmured while she slowly ate. She chuckled softly, as if she remembered something funny. "I had this very silly crush on you since I joined, and you helped me clean the infirmary. I accepted that we would only be friends because," she stopped, and he looked at her, shocked. "Well, because you're a high-breed alpha-"

"I've never actually cared about those shits, not like I'm some banker's brat that needs to secure an heir," Levi quickly added, interrupting her.

"Huh?" Her face turned to the left to look at him as his statement made no sense, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

Words weren't his strength, so he decided to spit out anything in his brain. "That I didn't care you were a beta."

"Are you implying you had been flirting with me before this?"

He scratched the back of his head and murmured slightly offended, "Yeah, for the past two months. Thank you for finally noticing."

Despite his soft words, she remained confused “That was you flirting?”

Levi scoffed, offended. "Fucking excuse me, usually, we flirt with scents and mark territory — both things you didn't notice until now."

Perhaps then, pieces fell into place, the sense of calmness she experienced each time they had tea at his place. The subtle citrus, lavender-scented with a musky undertone had always been him, trying to convey his intentions in the only way he knew how. Or, maybe, all the opposites—his body reacting on its own, even at the prospect of her being a beta, trying to provide a sense of protection and calmness to the place, showing his willingness to a potential mate.

The only reply he got was a few shallows, quiet chuckles before she continued eating a little longer, a soft smile on her features. "And the bittersweet part?" Levi insisted, picking up where she had left off.

"Oh," her memory recalled her comment, and she blushed heavily. "Well... apparently mating with an alpha is harder than being stepped on by a horde of Titans," she explained, grimacing uneasily. "I've bruises everywhere, and I can barely move."

"I usually behave more... I'm not particularly vanilla, but I'm a bit more civilized." As the air lightened slightly, and it felt as if both were finally addressing the elephant in the room, Levi tried to force himself to be a bit more talkative. "If it makes you feel better, I feel like shit too."

"You? What could you possibly be hurting from?"

"I would like to see you topping for twelve days straight," Levi snorted back, his pride hurt that she wasn't taking his part of the job seriously.

"Fair, fair." Giving in just for the sake of it, she picked up a slice of the red apple and ate it casually. "You know..." she thought of commenting but then, "nevermind."

"What? Just spit it out," Levi's harsh nature stepped in, especially insisting as he observed her face turn red.

"I was just thinking that... Maybe this explains why," her voice grew hushed and embarrassed, "I always felt like something was lacking with my beta ex."

An entertained scoff left his lips, mixed with a cocky side smirk. He felt as if his inner alpha was kicking out of happiness. Alphas are competitive, possessive, and jealous creatures by nature; they may even feel jealous of the pillow their omega hugs while asleep. Being delighted with the idea that there’s no other that could provide the strength they show while mating is like a big pat on their back.

Levi didn’t want to press the matter too much, letting her come and talk things out at her own pace. Her brows drew together as she felt the pain pulsing again, her hand reaching backward to softly caress the mark on her neck. “This hurts horrendously,” she admitted through clenched teeth, “I put numbing cream and-”

“Don’t put anything on it,” Levi quickly interrupted. “Your body may react more because it feels that you may be trying to reject it.”

Her eyes opened, locked into his, the frown still present. “Was biting me this hard so absolutely necessary?”

“If I had any power over my actions during a rut, do you think we would be in this situation? Where there is a high chance, I got you knocked up?”

Levi’s words pierced the night like a cannonball does from the top of the walls to a titan’s neck; she looked at him uneasy and confused. Nobody dared to even whisper; not even the sound of a mouse was perceived. Her expression of anger softly switched, as she averted his gaze looking in another direction. Maybe she preferred not to think about it, but Levi has always been a man that faced reality as it was given to him.

“Maybe...” she started to suggest, breathing deeply. “Maybe it didn’t take,”

Levi slightly contorted uneasily, taking a subtle deep breath to steady himself. “What?” her ignorance in certain dynamics was something he had to constantly remind himself. He knew she didn’t do it with harm, “I just came out of a two-week rut, my body has more hormones at the moment than a fifteen-year-old brat... try not to say straight in my face that I didn’t breed you properly because you’re only triggering another round on me.”

“I’m just saying that I know that some low-breed omegas can’t get pregnant by high-breeds that easily. “ She insisted, giving it a rational thought “Maybe the reason I didn’t present is that I’m closer to a beta than an omega by being low breed.”

While her explanation seemed logical in her mind, Levi heard her with a deadpan expression. “Didn’t you hear me? Two shitty weeks, no fuckin’ way you’re low-breed.”

Perhaps that had been the consolation she had been running with the entire day, and the weight of the matter began to hang on her heavier than before, which didn’t help Levi to feel less concerned and uneasy. Her attention lost somewhere, and for once, Levi wished he could be subtle and charismatic, perhaps to have something to say. The confession she had made a few minutes ago held in Levi’s mind longer than he liked to admit, and he tried to wrap himself around it to initiate his response, waiting first for a bit for her to add anything else.

“Ehm-” he cleared his throat as he drew attention back to him, sat down around her small round table in the corner of her room, “maybe we jumped a bunch of shitty steps in the dating process or whatever, but I don’t mind trying to make it work if you want.”

His right hand dubiously reached out thinking of creating physical contact for comfort. First reaching for her left thigh but reconsidering deeply, while pressing his lips together, he moved it upwards to her forearm and gave it a gentle squeeze. “And I’ll back you up in any decision you take about it if it turns out you’re knocked up.”

Her drained voice, perhaps due to tiredness or fear, whispered, “Really?”

“Huh?” Levi seemed slightly confused, “well, we are already bonded, so at least we could give it a try...”

“No, I mean the other. You really don’t mind anything?” her voice was barely above a whisper.

The washed-out memory of his own mother popped into his mind for a brief second before replying seriously and with no doubt on his face, "Well... I won’t be the one pregnant for nine months and neither the one who is going to be giving birth, so what I prefer doesn’t really matter," Levi said unfazed. "And I know I’m not a fucking sunshine, but I’m not that shitty to get you knocked up and leave you to face it alone."

While nothing was written in stone, and the consequences of it were still too soon to be sure, there was a soft sense of tranquillity that washed over her. A soft smile cracked on her face. "Thank you," she murmured.

At the beginning, it felt conflicting going back as if nothing had happened. Drinking tea at his office while both worked on their respective paperwork, nobody wanted to press the matter further. Though Levi would hear whispering gossip between his own squad, the Captain tried his best to let her process what had happened and allow himself to do it.

Keeping the scouts under strict rules of not letting it escalate was easy; a death glance from Humanity’s strongest soldier was enough to make all the curious cadet and squad leaders keep themselves in line. Humanity’s strongest soldier, that’s who Levi was. "Worth an entire army," whispers as the scouts pass by, the only one that people recognized enough for those "Wanted" posters while they were fighting the uprising a few months ago. The person people put their dreams and hopes in now that they were planning the retake of Wall Maria.

"MH..." hummed sounds echoed in her throat as her delighted eyes admired the pastries in the showcase. Levi has taken his squad to pick up groceries downtown, and she had insisted on going, breathing some fresh air and sending medical reports. "I’m really craving something sweet," it was more of an inner monologue than something meant to be answered.

Though her eyes full of desire caught Levi's attention as he was waiting for the provisions given to him, analyzing it with second thoughts. But he wasn’t the only one with curious eyes; the baker admired the scene behind the counter. The madam was an omega, and, while her years of fertility may have already passed, she had been involved in too many dynamics and had enough kids behind her to spot a freshly mated couple from a mile.

"Ah! The hazelnuts one, please!" Y/N had finally made up her mind on her little treat, pointing with her finger across the glass at the small cake. The old woman nodded in agreement. Another coworker was putting the big flour white bags on the rustic cart they had brought to take the provisions as Levi supervised both. When the baker was handling the smaller purchase, Y/N was about to handle her payment, but Levi was quick to offer the money first with the military coupons for the food provisions.

"Hey," she looked at him complaining but not completely mad. "It’s mine; I’m paying."

Levi clicked his tongue, "Don’t be stupid," he insisted and grabbed the paper bag to hand to her. While he didn’t reciprocate the soft pouting, she did at him, the shop owner simply took his food coupons and smiled as she regretted the money.

"It’s on the house," she quickly added, and Y/N checked the inside of the bag, and there were also extra treats and cookies. Levi didn’t seem convinced about it, but the old woman, with her white apron covering most of her dress and her hair out of the way, smiled interestedly and asked, "When is the due date?"

Older women and their audacity; colours quickly dropped from both, only to raise back harder as blood rushed to their cheeks.

"Ehm, it’s too soon yet," Levi quickly added, trying to smooth out the situation, shortly spitting out the answer.

The surprised gasp, and then "Oh, I thought... well, it’s hard to tell with all the layers during winter," she insisted. Y/N smiled awkwardly, as, after receiving the gift, she didn’t want to just leave. "So, is it recent?"

Levi’s eyes did quick checks on the cart, praying it would get all the provisions faster so he could slip himself from this social situation, "Yeah," he groaned out.

"Weird... it’s not mating season," she commented, pointing out something that Levi had probably seen coming; he had to hold back a sigh.

"Yes, well, thank you very much," he replied faster as he noticed the cart was loaded, and he was more than ready to leave. Y/N thanked back too, gathering any left in her to give a sort of friendly grimace before walking away with him.

The uncomfortable silence as they walked across the rest of the shops, Levi’s squad taking care of different tasks, and some of them even shopping for themselves. "How?" she began to question unsure while adjusting her scarf that covered the mating mark.

"The scent," Levi quickly replied, already knowing where the conversation was going. "I come here very often; she probably noticed the change, and you smelling as a mated omega put two and two together."

Humming a mix between an understanding but confused reply, she wrapped herself better in her coat as the weather was still very harsh. "I still get confused about the aromas thing," the nurse confessed. "Sometimes it feels like teenagers get it better than me." There was a sort of defeat with shame in her tone.

"When you’re mated, you can say that you stink less. After all, there’s no point in dragging attention any further," Levi explained. "Think of it as getting a cheap, shitty perfume; you still smell like you, but less intense."

Her attention was drawn to her left as he explained it out for her, both resting on the edge of the cart as they waited. Blaming the cold on her cheeks, softly blushing as she smiled at his understanding. After this, she was thankful that her trips to the downtown were very scarce because the rumor spread faster than any winter flu. Levi could barely walk down without getting congratulations, presents, cheerful words from older women and young mothers. Some gifted him wood for the baby, treats for his mate, the proud pats of older alphas telling him that "good for him, it was time already for getting a proper mate."

Even the Reeves sent him meat under the excuse that "pregnant women need more iron." His face always tried to hide the unpleasant social moments that came with this, but Hange insisted that he was not nailing at faking being happy about the public celebrations. 'It’s too soon,' he would insist, but 'you’re a high breed and so is she, both young, everybody is sure it will take.'

"Perhaps it’s bad timing," Erwin commented, trying to hold back a mischievous smirk. "But Nile and Zackary send their congratulations." Levi dedicated his beast dead glance across the office as they were in a meeting. Hange didn’t even try to hold back a loud laugh while Erwin tried his best not to chuckle in the captain’s face. "Don’t look at me like that; I didn’t tell them... they found out on their own."

Fingers doing pressure on the bridge of his wrinkled nose, "Fuck me," he cursed under his breath. It’s not that he wasn’t "sure"; it had been almost two months, and she hadn’t come to him with any "news," which meant that any passing day was more of a confirmation than a negative. She seemed reluctant even to mention the topic, and since both seemed to be improving the quality time together, Levi didn’t want to risk asking too much. But the uncertainty was starting to grow on him. It didn’t help that her pheromones sometimes gave him clues when they were alone that she was interested in perhaps moving a bit further than just sharing teatime together. His scent quickly matched, giving away that he was more than willing to get tangled in bed once again, this time both consciously.

But... she never noticed, never made a move, and after what happened, he wanted her to take the lead. 'It’s her body reacting,' he reminded himself, which was both arousing to know her deeper instincts wanted him, cute that she couldn’t control it yet, and frustrating to know that it wasn’t voluntary. He wasn’t sure if it was because he had never been mated before, obviously, and being around his mate triggered it more. If he had gone so many years without it that after getting laid again, he started to crave it more. But he felt the necessity.

So, there she was, sat down on his desk, legs swinging as she ranted about how her day visiting her friends had been. Until the unsure clearing of her throat caught his attention again from paperwork. "I was... wondering if perhaps you could spare me a couple of clothes?"

That had definitely caught him off guard. "My friends from my nurse’s hostel, most of them are omegas, so they almost threw me a welcome party," Levi hummed understanding, wanting to know where this was going. "They mentioned that perhaps my insomnia may be due to... nesting? That my body feels uneasy, and perhaps having my mate’s scent would help? Sounds very stupid, I know-"

"Sure," he quickly agreed and blessed his well-known stoic face to hide his disappointment. His own mate preferred a bunch of scented clothes over being with him; his inner instincts were kicking in anger, almost throwing a tantrum in the floor of his mind like a spoiled brat. Being rejected by your bond is not something alphas took easily, and he had to clench his teeth holding back the imperious necessity to mark territory again. He was better than behaving like a wild animal, he knew but yet.

"Give me a minute to finish this report," he replied between clenched teeth.

"Expedition Wall Maria?" She asked, somehow trying to keep the conversation alive. He hummed positively. "How are the preparations going?" she insisted, pushing the topic further.

"Good."

Her lips pressed together; her eyes never left the back of his head as he curved over his desk to write endless reports. Then, "You’re going to come back, right?" pierced the room, followed by "...you’re not leaving me to deal with this alone, right?"

The pen stopped moving as his fingers left it to rest after it had run out of ink, his back straightened up to look over to her as she remained seated on the edge of the desk, the desk where he had undressed her. Coral light filtering through the window’s glass landing on her. The training was over only an hour ago, and he tried to advance paperwork before dinner. It was still early, and the bustling of the building hadn’t ceased yet. Despite it all, Levi felt as if the silence was overwhelmingly loud.

The doubt in her eyes was almost tangible; therefore, he said the only thing that crossed his mind. "I’ll come back walking if I have to."

Fast short scoff as her cheeks raised in a tender smile, Levi was tempted to push the idea further. He took it as a confirmation somehow and wanted to know it all, at least what she knew so far. But before he knew it, she was descending from his desk, and the intentions of leaving the place were written all over her face.

"Let me finish this, and I’ll give you the shirts," Levi insisted, the disappointment on his face was hard to disguise until her hand grabbed his armrest for support, one leg then the other. It was so simple, but his legs tilted sideways, and he could feel how his blood dropped to pump downwards as she sat down on his lap. Instinctively tilting his leg outward, making space, parting legs.

The scent passing thought his nostrils, soaking in his brain, making him be aware of his fangs before he could notice. It wasn’t like a heat, of course, not but inviting enough. Receiprocating almost immediately, on full will and not so much too, seeing how with each breath her cheeks blushed more and her eyes turned transparent. Ass on his knees, making him wish she had moved forward directly over his bulge, to feel the sweet pressure of her body over his dick.

"I don’t think I want the shirts..." She murmured, somehow quickly breathless, as her right hand reached forward to cup his face, “I’ve one and it doesn’t smell like you,” her eyes turning transparent as the pheromones sank in, remembering the clothes he had borrowed her the morning after “You smell divine,”

His hands moved instinctively, quickly rubbing her sides lightly, cupping her hips before gripping and try to push her closer, “How is this fucking fair?” he said hoarsely, trying to keep his voice level despite the fire raging through his veins “You had my clothes and I was here, like a teenager trying to recall how your slippery cunt milked me dry,”

The shock ways shivering down both of them, forcing a soft gasp out of her parted lips as Levi buried his face on the crook of her neck, feeling his mating mark. Recalling with pleasure it had been him who had claimed her, she was all his and nobody else. Shameless tongue running through the mark with closed eyes and scoff of aphrodisiac reassurance, he could feel the pheromones in her skin. Both bodies reacting to each other as if they were made for this. Her hand gripping his dark locks as her neck suffered the attack.

Softly rocking between his parted legs, she could feel the outline of his hardening cock almost painfully twitching against the white trousers of the uniform. Crumping upwards the skirt but a strong push of her hand against his chest got him resting on the desk’s chair. Dusted cheeks, sassy smirk, her neck glistering under the tangerine light of the afternoon, “I want to suck you, Captain,”

He couldn’t make his mind in which he liked more, the memory of her in-drunk state of pure heat’s submission, becoming a pliant hole for him to fuck rough or her assertive cock drunk self. But he couldn’t mind it less as her hand palmed the front of his trousers before grasping his length to start to pump it through the fabric. She straddled Levi, hand on his shoulders before kissing him desperately, Levi kissed her back forcefully.

The early afternoon had turned excided as one of his hands gripped the back of her neck to kiss her deeply, hips gridding against each other. His hand kneeling her ass through the uniform dress with content. Head switching to the sides as he pried her mouth open, saliva dripping to the sides. The sound her lips parting echoed in the office, and he couldn’t help but smirk at the view of her reddish pumped lips. A low growl rumbled in his chest as he imagined her on her knees, those full lips wrapped around him.

His hands tightened around her ass cheeks, before giving it a good smack that made her jump slightly in his lap. Loud gasp as he pulls her closer and he leaned towards her ear again “Eager for it, huh?”

“Mhh-” Nodding enthusiastic while humming positively.

“Good girl,” Levi smirked, caressing her ass once more, squeezing it tightly before slapping it again. Burning sensation crossing though her body only to feel it tingling with the afterglow heating sensation of the hit, “On your knees. Suck me dry, baby girl,”

Straighten up slightly on his seat as she pulled away to get on her knees to unbuckle his belt. Raising slightly to rip his trousers and boxes as down as they could go with the harness on. Uncomfortably staying on the middle of his thighs and Levi quickly concluded that whoever designed the military uniform didn’t get laid frequently or, at least, they weren’t thinking in getting fuck on their desk’s chair. Exposing his hardened cock fully, it stood erect and throbbing as the tip glistered with pre cum. On top of his balls, the base was slightly engorged as it prepared for the knotting at the correct time.

Half lidded eyes admiring as she hovered with her forearms on each side of his legs to softly, almost ghostly, run the tip of her tongue through his thick, pale shalf. The action alone, the teasing, made him want to thrust forward and leak precum thought the tip. Big eyes looking up to him through her eyelashes. Smirking playfully as she collected the dropping with her tongue, only to then roll down the foreskin, revealing the tip to wrap her lips around the darkened head and suck directly from the exposed slit.

His hands gripped the chenille of the chair tightly, his knuckles turning white as he tried to keep himself from thrusting into her mouth. Clenching his teeth as she kept teasing him, giving subtle little kitty licks to the sides, sucking directly from the tip without going down. Barely toughing him.

“Fuck,” Levi cursed as he could feel the smirk on her lips, moving up again to the head. His hands gripped her head firmly, guiding her towards his aching member. "Suck me," he growled hoarsely, his voice filled with hunger and desire. Forcefully pushing her downwards this time, feeling the vibrations of her complain around his cock.

“There you go,” Levi groaned. Her lips wrapped around his cock, sucking hungrily on it as she continued to stroke him firmly. Slender fingers ran up and down around her hair before make shifting a ponytail to keep the hairs out of her face, admiring the view better. Her reddish lips, struggling around his cock, watery eyes as she tried to take a bit more each time she went down, the hollowing of her cheeks, the velvety sensation of her tongue against the pulsating vein of his cock each time she bobbed upwards. Delicate hands gripping the side of his thighs for support as she began to bob her head with favour. Her hand continued to stroke him rhythmically, matching the pace of her mouth movements.

“Fuck,” Levi's eyes rolled back in ecstasy as she took him deep, her warm, wet mouth engulfing his entire length. His hand tightened in her hair, holding her head firmly as he began to thrust into her throat, fucking her face roughly.

"That's it, girly," he praised, his voice hoarse with desire. His mind kept reminding him he should have got his sooner, remind her who was his alpha and get it. Fucking her throat roughly, his hips bucked wildly, each powerful thrust pushing deeper into her throat. Her hands dropped to his legs, fingers digging into his thighs for balance, hearing her struggle to take him all in.

“MHH!” Her chocking sounds mixed with the whines as he kept forcing her head all the way down, the saliva dripping through her mouth corners. As she deep throated him, gagging, Levi's grip on her hair tightened, pulling her head down harder against his member. His mind kept reminding him he should have gotten a mate sooner, priving himself from this was unhuman. To have an omega, to fuck her silly, to enjoy the tightest warmest cock-drunk cunt each time he wanted. Submissive pretty little thing, to mount and breed at least once per year.

“What’s the matter? Not used to the thick fat cock of an alpha?” the smirk on his face could almost be heard through the pants that left his lips, “Don’t worry,” he mocked with faked condescending, “I’ll teach you how to be a proper omega,”

Half lidded eyes looking back at him as she sobbed while letting Levi use her mouth, droll dripping down her chin.

The feeling of her throat contracting around his length was unlike anything else he had ever experienced, sending waves of pleasure coursing through his body. His hips bucked wildly, thrusting harder and faster, his balls slapping against her chin as she continued to suckle hungrily.

"That's it," he growled, his voice low and husky. Her moans turned into high-pitched whimpers, mixed with the wet sounds of her mouth working over his cock. “That’s my good girl,” he praised before finally pulling her head off with a loud pop. Quickly she crawled into his lap, straddling him.

His fingers unbuttoned the front of her uniform, yanked down the sleeves to a side so he could have direct access to her chest. His fingers traced the delicate curves of her breasts through the fabric, feeling her nipples harden under his touch. He leaned forward, capturing one of them between his lips, sucking greedily as his hand cupped her other breast, kneading it roughly.

“Ahh- Levi!” her soft moans echoing in the room mixing with the tale-tell of his lips licking her bud. His tongue circled her nipple, teasing it before finally taking it into his mouth, suckling on it hungrily through the fabric. The inner part of her breast turning a dark shade as he sucked the valley of her chest. Meanwhile, Levi’s freehand moved to gather her skirt to her waist.

Levi's hands grabbed her ass, squeezing and kneading it roughly, his fingers digging into the soft flesh beneath her skirt. He couldn't resist the urge to taste her again, suckling greedily on her nipple as he thrust his hips upwards, grinding their bodies together. His tongue continued to tease and suck on her nipple, alternating between gentle flicks of his tongue against the sensitive bud and deep, forceful sucks that left marks on her skin. His hips rocked rhythmically beneath her, grinding their crotches together, seeking more contact. But it wasn't enough. He needed to feel her wetness, to know for certain how much she wanted him.

As soon as his fingers brushed against her entrance, she let out a soft cry, arching her back into his touch. Her hips bucked subtly against his hand, inviting him deeper inside her. And so, without any further hesitation and incapable of waiting any more, Levi pushed her underwear to a side and slid two fingers into her core, moaning softly at the slick warmth enveloping him.

"So fucking tight," he groaned, his voice hoarse with desire. His thumb rubbed against her clit, circling it in a slow, deliberate motion. "You were made for this," then he insisted, “You got it all fucking wrong, you’ve always been made for this. To cramp down my fat knot,”

Levi couldn't help but feel a surge of pride as he heard Y/N’s soft mewls, her body responding eagerly to his touch clinging to his fingers like a vice. "You like that?" he murmured; his voice thick with desire. "You want more? You want me to breed you again?"

"Mh," she moaned, arching her back further as his fingers delved deeper. Her hands gripped his shoulders, holding herself steady as waves of pleasure washed over her. "Fuck yes..."

Hair falling backwards as she arched over him, continuing to fuck herself on his fingers, Levi could feel the tension building within him. He wanted more—needed to be inside her, feeling her tight heat surround him completely. But there was something else driving him, too—something primal and possessive that made him crave the act of mark her as his own, to make sure everyone knew she belonged to him.

“Yes! Ah- Yes, Levi!” Y/N mewled pleasantly, milking the digits.

It was a strange feeling for him, this possessiveness over another person—but at the same time, it felt right. Like something he had been missing all these years without even realizing it.

"Wanna get my knot again? Mh?" He chuckled darkly, almost coaxing a confession out of her. "I'll fucking remind you how I got you knocked up," he promised. Her body clenched around his fingers, a silent plea for more, and Levi didn't disappoint.

"Tell me," He growled, his voice low and husky. "Admit it, you want my knot inside you."

As if she had been waiting for this moment, Y/N’s eyes locked with his, filled with a mix of lust and submission. "Yes... I need it... give it to me..."

"That's my girl," he growled, his voice low and gravelly. "Take every inch of me, just like your tight little cunt was made for this."

He pulled his fingers out of her, savouring the sound of her whimpering protest. His hand reached down between their bodies, grasping his own painfully hard cock, which was now leaking copious amounts of precum onto his stomach. With one swift motion, he positioned himself at her entrance, lining up his head with her tight hole. Her hand gripped his shoulder and slowly sunk on it.

As Levi felt himself sliding into her tight heat, he groaned in pure bliss. Her walls squeezed around him, milking every inch of his length as she slowly lowered herself onto him. His fangs ached with the need to claim her again, but he resisted the urge for now.

“N-Ngh,” she mewled, “Ah, so big,”. He had just put it in, and she could feel the head of his cock already prodding her cervix. The fullness and tug of her own body trying to fit him all in was aphrodisiacal, if it wasn’t that they were already bonded, she would have promised to never fuck a beta again. Levi’s dick was so impossible thick, it didn’t help that he pressed a hand on her belly to feel himself there. To feel himself filling her up to the brim as she wiggled her way down to be fully seated.

His hands gripped her hips tightly, helping her to ease up and down his cock as he fucked her roughly, their bodies slapping together noisily. The scent of her arousal filled his nostrils, making his fangs ache with the need to mark her again. She was riding him as her life depended on it, mouth hanging open, drooling as her eyes rolled backwards each time his cock plugged all the way in, hitting all the good spots.

"Fuck," Levi hissed, gasping softly as he admired with delight her well-fucked face. He could hear the wet sounds of their bodies coming together, see the glistening sweat on her skin as she moved against him.

"Fucking— Shit," he growled breathless, thrusting harder into her depths. "You like that? You love swallowing my cock?”

“YES! Ah- yes!” shamelessly moaning as she sat down completely, gyrating her hips before going back to bounce.

Momentarily closing his eyes, pushing his head against the back of the seat as he felt his cock squeezed, sucking him in the best cunt he had ever had. “God- Yes, keep going,” he urged. Levi could feel it all the base of his cock inflate, her slick dripping down his balls. He gripped her hips tighter, pulling her ass cheeks apart for better access to her hole. His breath came out in ragged gasps, his voice interrupted for heavy inhales and satisfied groans.

“Fu-fuck, enjoying that dick?” Levi growled satisfied; his voice weakened with desperation.

Positive mewls vibrated on her throat as he thrusted upwards hard enough to make her wince each time.

"You're mine," Levi growled, his voice hoarse with desire. "Mine to claim and fuck whenever I want." His hips bucked harder, driving deeper into her tight channel, hitting all her good spots mercilessly.

The sound of their bodies slapping together filled the room, creating a rhythmic beat that matched their shared heartbeats. Sweat dripped down both of them, mixing on their skin in a sticky mess. He could feel himself nearing climax, his balls tightening up as he prepared to release inside her.

"Cum for me, Y/N," he commanded, his voice rough with need. "Let go and let me fill you up again."

She let out everything shamelessly; mewls, whims, load moans of his name as she sank down one last time. Using his shoulder to leverage, gripping his uniform jacket with her fist, tugging him closer. Crying in pleasure as she came all over him. Levi gripped her hips harder, pounding upwards with everything he had, chasing his own release.

“Nng- Ah-” she complained slightly as his swallowed base teased to finally pop inside. Levi gritted his teeth painfully as he kept gridding upwards, trying to finally put his knot.

Levi couldn't hold back any longer, reaching forward and biting her harshly over his claiming mark once more. Painful gasp left her lips as she twitched over him. With one final powerful thrust, he buried himself to the hilt inside her tight channel, groaning in pure ecstasy as his climax crashed over him once his knot pressed against her entrance and managed to slip in. His cock twitched violently, spurting hot seed deep within her womb, filling her up completely.

"Ah- yesss!" he cried out, his voice cracking with pleasure. "Fuck, you feel so fucking good." He kept jerking himself against her, pumping in in vain, unable to pull out, as he kept coming. He held onto her hips tightly, thrusting weakly against her even after he had finished, savouring the feel of being buried inside her. His heart pounded against his chest, and he could feel his breath hitching in his throat as the aftermath washed over him.

Body slacked against the chair, collapsing on it. Hair sticking to each other's face as both panted heavily trying to catch their breath, chest rising and falling rapidly. Her head buried on the crook of his neck. Then she tilted lightly to the right as his hands softly caressed her face, pushing the sticky locks out of her features. She smiled softly with blushed cheeks and half lidded eyes in satisfaction. Leading forward, sharing a couple of sloppy kisses as they came down the peak.

The once warm light that came through the window had turned coldly as the night slightly slipped in. He felt exhausted yet satisfied, but an uncomfortable whine followed by a hiss left his lips as he felt her move. “Don’t” he warned her, his hand gripping her hips to hold her in place. His knot still locking them together and his cock twitched in overstimulation.

Y/N groaned uncomfortable, “How long does this take?”

“The more you move, the longer it will take,” He said, “Half an hour at least,”

“I’m hungry,” she complained.

“Well... that make two of us,” Levi replied.

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