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chiqelatasblog · 24 days

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In the Middle Of the Night🌙

-> Ao3 link is here.

-> Part One is here.

Pairings : Bi-Han/ Sub-Zero x You, Kuai Liang/ Scorpion x You, Tomas Vrbada/ Smoke x You

Author’s Note: Hey there everyone! First of all, I’m beyond excited by the interest you’ve shown in my fic. Thank you so much! I poured all my love into this chapter, and I’m incredibly proud of the result. This bad boy clocks in at over 10k words, so buckle up and enjoy the ride! Happy reading!

I summoned you, please come to me,

Don’t bury thoughts that you really want.

I fill you up, drink from my cup,

Within me lies what you really want.

CHAPTER TWO : TOMAS

Tomas had always harbored a discomfort with darkness.

One vivid childhood memory was the time he and his twin sister sneaked out of the house to fish by the creek. They had visited this place with their mother many times before, surrounded by tall grasses and dense trees lining the riverbanks. In addition to fishing, they splashed in the stream as the spring weather warmed the water, engaging in playful water fights and skipping stones. However, they had not anticipated the difficulty of finding their way home after nightfall. Time seemed to slip away unnoticed until the sun vanished, leaving behind only faint orange rays. Amidst the sounds of creatures in the dark and the dim moonlight, Tomas found himself more frightened than ever. Seeking refuge beneath the shelter of a towering oak tree, he and his twin waited anxiously for the morning light without daring to blink.

Another poignant memory was his first night after being adopted by the Lin Kuei following the tragic loss of his parents. Given a room of his own within the clan’s compound, it marked a stark contrast to the cramped quarter he shared with his sister at home—a small room with a cold-leaking window and a wooden floor that creaked with every step. Despite the spaciousness of his new accommodations, the room only served to accentuate his overwhelming sense of loneliness. Confusion, fear, and sorrow weighed heavily upon him, compounded by the haunting memories of his family’s demise. The image of his mother’s final gaze, the sound of her voice uttering his name as she drew her last breath, remained painfully fresh in Tomas’s mind. Standing alone in the darkness, he hesitated to emerge from the refuge of his hidden position, fearing the harsh reality that awaited him—a reality that felt more like a terrible nightmare than the truth.

Later that same night, Kuai Liang, the son of the grandmaster, whom Tomas had only glimpsed out of the corner of his eye and estimated to be a few years older than himself, sought him out. Tomas never expected anyone to visit his room, especially someone whose language, lifestyle, and appearance were so foreign to him. Despite being a complete stranger, Kuai Liang persisted in his efforts to communicate with him.

Over the years, Tomas had learned to leave the past behind and devote himself to the Lin Kuei with unwavering respect and loyalty. He seized every opportunity for growth, not limiting himself to combat training alone. In addition to mastering multiple languages, he immersed himself in various fields of knowledge, receiving specialized education ranging from geography to mathematics. Inspired by his brothers, Tomas aspired to become a formidable assassin, striving to emulate their strength and steadfastness. His determination to bridge the gap and prove himself led him to seek training in magic from clan elders. Before long, he mastered the art of smoke magic, earning his code name in the process.

As time passed, Tomas emerged as one of Lin Kuei’s most skilled assassins, earning the respect and admiration of his peers. Though differences still lingered between him and his brothers, they no longer served as barriers; instead, they became markers of individual experiences and growth. Tomas gained renown for his stealth and speed during missions, aided by his mastery of the smoke magic for concealment. Yet, he also understood the value of leveraging shadows for support. Through discipline and practice, he learned to embrace the darkness, transforming his fear into a potent weapon.

Until Quan Chi sealed him and his brothers inside the book…

Tomas couldn’t recall the last time he had been free. It must have been ages ago. While he had anticipated the relief of escaping, the reality proved disorienting. After spending so long confined within the book’s pages, reentering the world was akin to landing on an alien planet. Colors seemed brighter, sensations felt unfamiliar, and even the taste of things seemed strange.

It had only been a day or two since they emerged from the book’s depths. During that time, Tomas had been reluctant to close his eyes, fearing a return to the vast darkness that had engulfed him for so long. In the book, there was only emptiness—a void that left him disoriented and disconnected from time and reality. The experience had shattered his ability to cope with darkness; although it was bad to have a new master, he would prefer this situation to eternal darkness.

Inside the book, the only connection to the outside world was through sounds, which provided a vague sense of the passage of time. Now, sitting in the living room, an overwhelming surge of pent-up energy coursed through him. He longed to move, to run, to stretch his limbs freely. Yet, his heightened senses left him feeling overwhelmed by the outside world. It was as if everything had become too much to bear at once, triggering a cascade of emotions.

Such experiences were not uncommon when they remained dormant for extended periods. It took several days for them to readjust. Kuai Liang, in particular, struggled with the transition. His pyromancer abilities meant his metabolism was faster than both him and Bi-Han’s, making the initial days a nightmare as he grappled with an accumulation of pent-up energy. Bi-Han fared better in comparison, his cryomancer abilities allowing him to maintain control despite the prolonged dormancy.

“Are you all right?” Tomas inquired, glancing at his brother who sat a little distance away. Drops of sweat glistened on Kuai Liang’s forehead, his face flushed. His usually dark hair, kept in a bun, was now disheveled, with tufts of hair glued to his skin due to sweat. Despite his typically bronze skin, it appeared pale under the strain of his condition, a deep frown creased his brow, accentuating the thick veins that bulged on his neck from the tension of his clenched jaw. He spoke in a muffled voice, his fists tightly gripping the cushion beneath him.

“It’s more intense compared to the previous ones. It’s becoming increasingly difficult for me to cope.” Kuai Liang muttered, his voice strained.

“You should lie down on the sofa,” Tomas suggested, rising from his seat and closing the distance between them in an instant. “Standing like this isn’t good for you. Let me help.”

“I’m fine,” Kuai Liang insisted stubbornly, his words almost a hiss through clenched teeth. “It’ll pass soon.”

“We both know it’ll take a few days,” Tomas reasoned gently. “Come on, lie down and stop being so stubborn. You need to rest.”

“I’ve been inactive enough already from being trapped in that damn book.”

“And now you need to rest so your body can recover.”

“Is everything all right?” Your soft voice floated from the entrance of the room, drawing Tomas’s attention. You stood there in an old plush robe, your legs and feet bare beneath your long nightgown. The bandages he wrapped around your legs from the first night they emerged from the book still in place. Like him, your face was colorless, and the purple rings under your eyes betrayed the sleeplessness you shared with them.

“Kuai Liang?” Bi-Han’s sudden appearance next to you, like a dark, silent shadow, caused you to jump in place with a start. Tomas observed your startled reaction, your eyes reflecting fear at Bi-Han’s sudden presence. Since they emerged from the book, they had noticed your agitated demeanor and your constant efforts to maintain a clear distance from them. It was evident in every gesture that you had yet to adapt to the situation and were still struggling to accept what was happening.

As Bi-Han approached them with purposeful strides, he rested his hand on his brother’s forehead, from which a thin, cold smoke wafted. Upon contact, a sizzling sound filled the room as cold and heat met. Kuai Liang’s eyes closed with a slight sense of relief, his tense posture relaxing slightly. Bi-Han’s expression remained stern.

“You’re burning,” Bi-Han remarked, his dark gaze fixed on his brother. “How long has he been like this?”

“For about half an hour, he suddenly relapsed. When he insists on not resting—”

“Nonsense. We both know you’re not going to get through this without lying down somewhere, Kuai Liang. Don’t be stubborn and do as you’re told.”

“What’s going on?” You hesitantly approached them, your anxious eyes shifting between Kuai Liang, who was breathing rapidly and starting to sweat profusely, and the two brothers. “Is he ill?”

As Bi-Han gave you a piercing, stern look, you stumbled back a step. Tomas felt a surge of anger at his brother’s harsh demeanor. Bi-Han had always been somewhat rude and obstinate; as the grandmaster before being trapped in the book, he was accustomed to looking down on others, being condescending, and considering everyone except the Lin Kuei as worthless. This attitude had persisted over the years, even when they served various masters of the book.

Many masters had attempted to break his demeanor and relished in the opportunity, but when they realized Bi-Han could not be tamed, both he and Kuai Liang were held accountable for his actions. That was when Bi-Han had to learn to control his sharp tongue and condescending gaze. But when it comes to you, you seem different from the masters who came and went. You were an ordinary person, with neither unusual strength nor fighting skills to suggest you knew how to protect yourself.

Tomas had scrutinized you closely the first day he emerged from the book and quickly formed a profile. Your physique seemed too delicate to be that of a warrior, and your gaze exuded kindness and compassion. The fact that you didn’t assert any authority over them indicated you might be harmless. While he hesitated to fully embrace this belief, it often proved true when reality differed from their initial assumptions. This made Bi-Han’s treatment of you seem inappropriate and cruel.

“Kuai Liang is a pyromancer, master,” Tomas interjected, breaking the uncomfortable silence that had settled between them. “When he’s unable to release his power for an extended period, it accumulates inside him, causing sensory overload and physical strain.”

As Tomas explained in simpler terms, given your unfamiliarity with their world, another layer of concern clouded your expression.

“Oh, I see. That sounds truly awful. Does the same situation apply to you?”

Bi-Han had been on the verge of making a rude remark once again, but Tomas acted swiftly to prevent him from further upsetting you. “No, our powers and metabolic rates vary among us.”

“Then is there anything I can do for Kuai Liang? I have antipyretics and painkillers; perhaps they might help.”

“Are you daft, woman? We’re dealing with a man whose metabolism is four times faster than normal. Do you think mere drugs will affect him?”

“I-I just wanted to help.”

“You’d be of greater help by not interfering,”

The moment Bi-Han hurled the words at you with a tongue as sharp as a knife, Tomas watched you swallow silently and your eyes glistened with tears for a moment. His chest ached with a slight pain for you, whom he had never known; you stood so vulnerable and small in front of them. But you collected your composure quickly, surprising him, squaring your shoulders and lifting your head.

“He can sleep in my bed until he’s better. It’ll be more comfortable than the couch. Can you move him there?”

***

After they carried Kuai Liang to your room and Bi-Han pulled a chair next to him, settling in, Tomas returned to the living room with you.

“He hates me.” you muttered in a hoarse voice.

“He hates everyone.” Tomas replied, realizing you were referring to Bi-Han. With a pillow tucked under one arm and a not-too-thick, pink-purple patterned blanket in the other, you prepared the makeshift bed on the couch.

With a sigh, you settled onto the end of the couch, which Kuai Liang had been using as a bed for the past few days. While he and Kuai Liang shared the living room, Bi-Han had taken refuge in your study. Your house was quite small, and Tomas had initially doubted whether they could all fit in here.

“If I hadn’t been protected by the book, he would have torn me in half already, wouldn’t he?”

“It can’t be said that he gets along well with strangers,” Tomas replied politely. “He needs time, master.” As the last word slipped from his lips in the usual manner, he observed your gentle expression falter, your lips pressing together into a straight line. He knew you disliked being addressed that way, but after years of habit, it was difficult for him to remove it from his vocabulary. His body ached with a twinge of pain for disobeying your request once again—a never-ending side effect of the curse. They had to obey their masters unconditionally, and if they did not, and this situation persisted, their suffering increased exponentially.

“Tomas, please don’t call me that. I am not your master, and it makes me very uncomfortable every time you address me as such.”

“I’m sorry,” Tomas murmured in a low voice, avoiding your gaze as he stared out at the nighttime landscape of tall buildings and colorful lights beyond the window. “It’s just a habit.”

“There’s no need to apologize. I just want you to know that there are no distinct classes between us. We are equals.” You leaned back against the armrest, pulling your knees toward your stomach and wrapping your arms around yourself. “It’s very strange. I haven’t slept a wink since yesterday, and yet I still don’t feel like I can sleep.”

When Tomas turned his gaze back to you, he noticed your tired eyes staring into emptiness. He could imagine how surreal and overwhelming the unfolding events must have sounded from your perspective. Moreover, sharing your home with three unfamiliar, burly men, and constantly feeling on edge because of Bi-Han, must have added to your nerves.

“So do I.” Tomas replied after a moment, joining you. “I’ve been inside the book for so long that it’s hard to believe I’m out now.”

“If you don’t mind, may I ask how long you’ve been there?”

“What year is it?” He asked.

“Two thousand twenty-four.”

“Then it has been nearly two years since we last emerged.”

Your eyes widened in horror at his response.

“Two years? That’s terrible! What have you been doing all this time in the book? Is there any way you can pass the time?”

The question sounded so innocent to Tomas’s ears that he almost wanted to laugh. It was the first time he had encountered a master like you—a master who, despite having the power to use them as mere tools, condoned Bi-Han’s rude behavior and tried to create a small comfort zone to help Kuai Liang through the process. Even though you knew the power you held over them, you chose not to exploit it fully. If you had wanted to, you could have expelled Bi-Han, and even him and Kuai Liang, from your home. After all, they had no choice but to obey your orders if they wished to avoid excruciating pain.

They hadn’t revealed this detail to you yet, as it was too valuable and represented one of their greatest vulnerabilities. However, whether you were aware of this information or not didn’t change the truth. By opening your home to them and engaging in conversation with Tomas, you were trying to understand the situation despite the risks involved. He doubted every now and then, as you seemed so sincere. You cannot act all the time, can you? As he was a professional in reading people, he couldn’t be entirely sure about you.

“No, we can only wait until our new master reads the words in the book,” Tomas explained.

“How so?” Your eyes widened slightly. “Can’t you do anything?”

“No, except for waiting in the dark, we can only sometimes hear voices coming from outside the book. This helps us understand where we are, and sometimes even the year.”

“God, this is—this is so cruel… How have you been able to maintain your sanity until today? This is officially torture.”

He also pondered the answer to this question himself. If he had been sealed inside that book alone, Tomas doubted he would be capable of forming coherent sentences right now. It would be a miracle if he could even speak.

“My brothers… Without them, it would have been inevitable that I would have lost my mind,” he admitted through clenched teeth. “But sometimes even that is not enough. That’s why we pressured you to read the book when you found it.”

“I thought I was going to die of fear at that moment,” you confessed in a low voice, cheeks slightly flushed, as you turned away from him and focused on your clasped hands. “But I’m glad I made you get out of there after hearing what you’ve told me. I hope I can help you break this curse as well.”

Tomas remained silent, grappling with uncertainty about the sincerity of your words. They had encountered similar displays of kindness before. In the past, there was a master they believed to be compassionate and well-intentioned, who had convinced them to lower their guards and give their trust a chance. They had fallen for gentle touches, pleas instead of commands, sweet compliments, and precious gifts. Even Bi-Han, typically skeptical, had thought that previous master was different.

But they were mistaken. They soon discovered that everything she did was merely a facade to gain their trust and manipulate them, raising their hopes only to shatter them. They had sworn never to trust again after that betrayal. As long as they were trapped in the book, they would always have a master, and their relationships would remain purely transactional.

Tomas had learned the hard way not to put faith in anyone. So your words held little weight for him. Each of them represented a month, and when they returned to the book three months later, you would be out of their lives. It seemed foolish to invest in a bond for something that would soon disappear.

‘’Tomas? Are you okay? You’ve become quiet,” you asked, noticing his distant expression.

Hearing your voice, Tomas snapped out of his thoughts and looked at you. “I have a lot on my mind. My thoughts are too loud,” he confessed with a tight smile.

“I have a solution that might help. Since neither of us has had any sleep,” you suggested, rising from your seat and making your way to the kitchen, which was adjacent to the living room. Tomas felt a twinge of curiosity as he watched you move. ‘’I hope you like chocolate.’’

“What are you going to do?”

“Hot chocolate. Sweet things are always good for stress. I think we both need some relaxation and serotonin,” you explained, retrieving two mugs from the kitchen cabinet and placing them on the counter. As you continued to prepare the hot chocolate, you asked, “Do you want to watch a movie?”

Tomas repeated the question as if to confirm that he had heard you correctly. “A movie?”

“Yes,” you affirmed cheerfully, without glancing at him, as you arranged the ingredients on the counter. “I like to watch something on Netflix when I can’t sleep. It helps distract my mind.”

“Netflix?” Tomas queried, unfamiliar with the term. As you briefly explained what Netflix was, Tomas observed you moving around the kitchen with a sweet smile, pouring steaming hot chocolate into the mugs and adorning them with white toppings resembling candy. He was familiar with the concept of movies, but his upbringing with the Lin Kuei left little room for leisure activities, such as watching television or electronic devices. Thus, while he understood the concept of movies, he had never encountered anything related to them until now.

“We can watch something that won’t require too much thought,” you suggested as you placed the mugs on the coffee table in front of them. Retrieving your laptop from a nearby spot, you positioned it on your lap and adjusted the screen so that Tomas could see. “Here, you can browse the movies from here.”

Tomas curiously scanned through the films from various categories displayed on the screen. There were so many options that he found it difficult to decide which one to choose, unsure of what would be the right choice.

“How about action?” you proposed, attempting to assist him. Your understanding expression conveyed that you recognized his struggle to make a choice. “We could watch Johnny Cage’s movies. The Ninja Mime movie series is legendary! What do you think? If you don’t like it, we can explore other options, of course.”

When Tomas agreed, your smile grew, and you placed the laptop in the center of the coffee table for both of you to see. As you leaned down to switch off the nearby lamp, he impulsively reached out and grabbed your wrist, causing a small, sweet electric sensation to pass between them. You both shared a momentary pause, as if sensing something peculiar, and Tomas noticed the sound of your interrupted breathing. What the hell was that? Tomas had never felt anything like this before.

“Tomas? Is something wrong?” you asked, your concern evident in your voice.

Tomas tried to ignore the tender feeling as he quickly released your wrist, as if it had burned him. Despite facing numerous sorcerers and warriors without fear, you, with your delicate demeanor, seemed more fragile to him, easily susceptible to harm even without the protection of the book.

“Could the light stay on?” he requested hoarsely, instantly noticing the understanding in your eyes, realizing the underlying reason for his question.

“Of course. Is it alright if we share the seat until the movie ends? There’s no other way for me to see the screen.”

Tomas found it strange that you asked, considering it was your home. You didn’t need his permission to use your own belongings.

“This is already your couch.” Tomas replied, showing his confusion.

“You’re also my guest. I want you to feel comfortable, not like you’re on edge,” you explained. Surprised by your response, Tomas nodded in agreement instead of verbally responding. “Great! Then I’ll start the movie. Come on, start drinking the hot chocolate before it gets cold. Your marshmallows are about to melt.”

Following your instructions, Tomas picked up a yellowish-white ceramic mug with daisy and bee patterns and took a sip of the steaming, incredibly fragrant drink. The sweet liquid danced on his taste buds, flooding his mouth with an unparalleled delight. It had been an eternity since he had savored something so delicious and sweet, a rare treat that he hadn’t experienced in years. Closing his eyes in bliss, he relished every moment of it.

“Do you like it?”

“I love it,” Tomas replied honestly.

“Really?” Your face lit up with a huge, almost radiant smile, and Tomas once again felt that sweet ache in his chest, far from painful. “I’m glad to hear that! If you want more, don’t hesitate to tell me. I still have plenty of chocolates in the cupboard.”

After your words, when the movie started, Tomas watched you eagerly settle on the end of the seat and sip your hot chocolate out of the corner of his eye. Despite the seat not being too large, there was a noticeable distance between you; someone thinner could have squeezed in between with a little effort. Although Tomas still couldn’t quite decipher your intentions, he turned his attention to the film after stealing a few glances at you, and slowly felt his troubled thoughts quiet down, his overly active senses beginning to relax.

Settling more comfortably on the couch, he took another sip of the hot chocolate you had made. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had done something like this for him. Usually, the situation would be the opposite—he would serve someone, fulfilling their wishes and desires. Now, it felt strange and unfamiliar to him to drink the beverage you had offered without expecting anything in return, as if you would later chastise him for such naivety. However, that never happened. Instead, you were completely engrossed in the film, occasionally giggling at the jokes inaudibly. Your smile, perhaps even sweeter than the hot chocolate he was drinking, had a warmth that made one want to hear your voice again.

Despite being occasionally distracted by your voice, Tomas found himself unexpectedly enjoying the movie. The action scenes were realistic, the jokes humorous, and the flow of the film simple yet intriguing. During one of the fight scenes, Tomas mumbled, “He fights well.”

“Isn’t he? He’s also a master of martial arts. All of these scenes were shot without the use of stunts. That’s why I have a lot of respect for the work he does. He’s one of the few actors I’d like to meet.” you remarked as you popped a half-melted marshmallow into your mouth, causing Tomas to watch your soft lips open and close on your fingers. He felt a warmth again, but this time it was burning and dangerous rather than sweet. He shifted in his seat as if trying to shake off the feeling.

“Do you want to watch the second one too?” you asked after finishing chewing. Tomas responded in a muffled voice. “I can’t deny that I’m interested.”

“Wonderful! I’ll refresh our drinks then. Wait here, I’ll be right back.”

Tomas rose once more, feeling uneasy about being served by you again, as you asked nothing of him. As he approached, you were just about to open the milk lid when you looked up, meeting his gaze with inquisitive eyes.

“Did you want something?”

“Tell me what I should do, please,” Tomas said through clenched teeth. How long would you leave him in this state of uncertainty, without giving him any orders? This unfamiliarity, persisting for days, was making him nervous. It was vastly different from the structured system he was accustomed to.

“I am not your master, Tomas,” you responded calmly, looking into his eyes, your voice gentle yet firm. “You are your own person. I will not give you orders, neither now nor later.”

“This is wrong,” Tomas said akin to a snarl, his voice sounding foreign even to himself. Even before an assassin, he was a hunter, and now, he felt more trapped than ever as he still couldn’t grapple with your rules. Do you even have rules? “Something is always expected.”

“This situation doesn’t apply here. I can see that you don’t trust and believe in me, and I don’t blame you for that,” you said, your face filled with a sadness Tomas couldn’t comprehend, your gaze softening even further. “Tomas, please try to believe that I’m sincere in what I’m saying. I do not demand anything from you, and I will not. You are free to act as you want, make your own decisions and choices.”

“Why?” Tomas questioned.

Why were you being so kind?

“Because it’s the right and humane thing to do,” you said simply, without hesitation. Then, you turned your attention to the task at hand. “Now, how many marshmallows do you want? I think I can put at least six on top.”

Did you realize the power you held in your hands? A word from you could compel action. But it seemed like you didn’t even care about this power; instead, you focused on trivial details about the second movie you were going to watch.

Once you had assembled a small mountain of marshmallows on the mug and handed it to him, Tomas accepted it in silence and settled back into the seat with you to resume the movie. He felt oddly content in a way. Though part of him still awaited the unveiling of the mask he thought you wore, he found some solace in the simplicity and normalcy of the current situation. Even though he had forgotten what it felt like, experiencing it again now stirred a mix of emotions within him, difficult to define.

While watching the movie, it was your harmless chats that occasionally provided small pieces of information about the actor or the movie, though it usually remained one-sided. Tomas lost track of how many movies you watched that night, ceasing to count after the second film. As soft yellow lights appeared and the sky began to brighten, he realized that an entire night had passed watching movies. Stretching his muscles, which had stiffened from remaining in the same position for so long, he turned his neck from right to left. When he glanced back at you, he saw that you were quietly curled up in your corner, fast asleep.

You had your arms crossed over the armrest of the chair, using them as a makeshift pillow for your head. Your mouth was slightly ajar, and the gentle rise and fall of your chest indicated deep sleep. Bathed in the morning sunlight, a peaceful expression graced your face.Tomas felt relieved watching you, as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, akin to lying on a calm sea.

On one hand, he was surprised that you felt comfortable enough to sleep next to him. You likely couldn’t resist the fatigue any longer and succumbed to it. Tomas couldn’t help but notice how vulnerable you looked, despite not wanting to admit it. You appeared delicate enough to be easily hurt.

Careful not to disturb you, Tomas pulled a blanket up to your shoulders, ensuring you were completely covered. As he did so, Bi-Han appeared at the entrance of the living room, his expression as cold and discontented as ever.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Bi-Han demanded.

“You’ll wake her up,” Said Tomas, in a voice that sounded like a whisper, slightly scolding. Carefully getting up from where he was sitting, he made his way to his brother’s side, his shoulders tense and his posture upright. He changed the subject directly, not allowing Bi-Han to scold him further. “How is Kuai Liang?”

“It’s bad, but he’ll pull through. He’s unconscious right now; I don’t think he’ll wake up for a while.”

“It’s the first time I’ve seen him this bad.”

“We stayed in the book for too long this time,” Bi-Han growled hoarsely, his voice tinged with wildness. Clenching his fists at his sides, his eyebrows furrowed deeply, and his gaze darkened. Tomas could feel the cold emanating from him, chilling his skin like a winter wind. “This cramped place is suffocating me. I’m going out to explore. Take care of Kuai Liang.”

As Bi-Han stormed out of the house without waiting for a reply, Tomas sighed and headed for the room where Kuai Liang was staying, ignoring his weary eyes due to insomnia. Opening the door slightly, he peered inside and saw his brother lying motionless on the bed. Stepping into the room and closing the door quitely behind him, Tomas prepared to tend to his brother.

Although he felt a twinge of guilt for intruding into your private space by entering your bedroom, Tomas didn’t dwell on it much, knowing that you had opened this place up for their use like any other part of the house. After opening the window to let in some fresh air, Tomas couldn’t resist looking around curiously. Your room, like the rest of the house, was small, with a closet and a standing mirror in one corner, and a bookcase filled to the brim with books and pictures scattered haphazardly on the shelves in another corner.

Approaching the bookcase, Tomas found some books filled with confusing information about computers and programming, which he couldn’t quite comprehend. Was this your interest? After glancing at a few of them, his attention was drawn to the photos. Some were framed, while others were hung around the shelves with wicker ropes. The photos depicted people with wide, friendly smiles, along with various landscapes. In the photos, you appeared pleasant, happy, and cheerful, almost laughing in the eyes.

Tomas frowned slightly as he picked up a frame that caught his attention. He hadn’t seen such an expression on your face since they came out of the book; instead, you seemed agitated, with traces of fear in your eyes. He wished he could see you with that same expression from the photos; laughing seemed to suit you, exuding a pure aura that inspired trust. Maybe you truly were like the person in the photos… maybe—

Shaking his head, Tomas tried to dispel the thoughts and returned the frame to its place. He then sat on the chair pulled to the right side of the bed and looked at Kuai Liang. His brother looked worse than he had ever seen him before—his bronze face even paler than the day before, sweat glistening on his skin, chest heaving with rapid breaths, and a contracted expression indicating distress.

Tomas changed the cloth on Kuai Liang’s forehead and listened to his audible breathing, occasionally wheezing softly. Though he wished he could offer his brother some relief, there was little they could do in such circumstances. Kuai Liang had to fight this battle alone and regain control. Tomas watched him for a long time, his hand resting on his chin as he became lost in thought.

It was the sounds emanating from the kitchen that snapped him out of his reverie. Thinking that Bi-Han might have returned, he left the room and found you sipping coffee while cooking something on the stove. When you noticed his presence, you turned around, raising the mug in your hand with a sincere smile as you greeted him.

“Good morning. Did you get any sleep?”

“Not really,” Tomas admitted.

The smile on your face faltered slightly. “Hmm, so the movies didn’t do the trick. Fortunately, I have more remedies up my sleeve. I bought some herbal teas and aromatherapy candles a while ago. We can give them a try tonight,” you suggested with a cheerful tone, taking another sip of your coffee. Before returning to your cooking, you asked curiously. “How is your brother?”

“He’s sleeping. He’s not well, but he’s a strong and stubborn man. I’m sure he’ll recover soon,” Tomas replied.

“I’m glad to hear that. Bi-Han didn’t want me to help, but I made some porridge for Kuai Liang. I hope he won’t be upset with me. Of course, if you think he will be, we can keep it between us. Eating can be difficult when you’re sick, so I thought some comfort food might help him,” you explained, gesturing to the pot on the stove. “I’ve also prepared something for you. Have a seat. You drink coffee, right?”

Once again surprised by your thoughtfulness, Tomas couldn’t tear his gaze away from you as you served him pancakes smothered with a generous amount of maple syrup, a plate of perfectly crisped bacon and eggs cooked to perfection, and a steaming mug of coffee, its aroma wafting through the air and tantalizing his senses.

“Is Bi-Han awake too? I saved some for him.”

“He went out to explore. I don’t think he’ll be back before noon,” Tomas replied, still eyeing the food before him, unsure of where to start. Despite knowing he could eat without waiting for your command, it was difficult to break the years-long habit of awaiting orders. You must have noticed this detail, as you called out to him in a soft voice.

“You should eat before it gets cold, Tomas. You may not enjoy it as much later,” you said gently.

Tomas, relieved, filled his fork with food and began to eat his breakfast with great pleasure, savoring each piece slowly as it settled warmly in his stomach. As he ate, he noticed you quietly watching him while sipping your coffee from the bench you leaned against.

“I hope I didn’t burn the egg,” you remarked after a while. Tomas shook his head, indicating ‘No’ since his mouth was full. After a sip of coffee, he managed to give a straight answer.

“Everything is quite delicious, maste—thank you.” he said, correcting himself at the last moment. A warm smile settled on your face, exposing your teeth, reminiscent of the photos he had seen. Despite your simple appearance in a loosely tied robe and a nightgown, you radiated natural beauty and warmth, filling Tomas with a sense of comfort he hadn’t dared to believe.

“I’m glad to hear that,” you chirped like a bird. “Because I almost burned it while I was taking care of the porridge. I kept breakfast simple since I wasn’t sure what you liked.’’ While taking another sip of coffee, you sat down a little further away, collapsing into one of the chairs placed around the kitchen island. “There is a local library very close to here. I have to stop by there for half an hour. There are some books I want to look at. Do you want to come with me? I think coming out after being in the book will make you feel better.”

Tomas’ body immediately contracted with tension, almost instinctively. He was curious about how much the outside world had changed, but on the one hand, he was not ready to encounter innovations, re-enter among people, noise, and much more. His senses were still at a hyper level, and that fidgety feeling swirling inside him had not calmed down yet.

“Perhaps some other time. Besides, I don’t want to leave Kuai Liang alone like this,” Tomas replied.

“Oh, you’re right. It was a rude question on my part,” you admitted, taking another sip of your coffee before looking at Tomas with curious yet deceptive eyes. Tomas met your gaze and asked after swallowing the food in his mouth, “You want to ask something, am I right?”

“There’s just one thing I’m curious about. But I don’t think it’s right to ask.”

One edge of Tomas’s lip curled upwards; he was starting to like the way you were approaching more and more. You were treating him like a human being rather than an object, and he’d forgotten how that made him feel.

‘’You can ask, it’s okay,’’ he encouraged.

‘’Your hair… Is this your original color?’’

An unexpected chuckle spilled from Tomas’ lips. It seemed funny and innocent enough to make his heart ache that you chose this when there were tons of questions you could ask.

‘‘No, it’s that color because of the smoke magic. Its previous color was brown.’’

‘’Smoke magic? Do you have the power like the others?’’

“Yes.’’

You took a breath with excitement; Tomas could have sworn your eyes were shining.

‘‘Will you show it to me?’’

Tomas let go of the mug he was holding with another smirk that he couldn’t stop, and thanks to the thin, gray cloud of smoke rising from his fingers, he made the mug float in the air. While your eyes opened wide, you took a sharp breath and stared at the floating mug in amazement, and Tomas took great pleasure in watching your reaction.

‘’This is incredible! What else can you do?’’

‘’I can be invisible.’’

‘’No way!’’ You said it in an incredulous voice. Tomas raised an eyebrow, gave you a sarcastic look, and then made his body invisible, watching you keep your mouth open with amazement. Your reaction was so sweet that Tomas laughed out loud this time, and when he made his body visible again, you looked at him with big eyes for a few seconds as if he had grown out a second head.

‘‘That was the coolest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. You’re incredible!’’ Against your obvious compliment, Tomas’s heart misfired once again, and he felt his cheeks getting hot. Not knowing what to say, as you kept talking excitedly, he squeezed a big mouthful morsel in his mouth before saying something ridiculous. ‘‘It must be great to have such a talent. You can even go to North Korea without anyone hearing a sound.’’

Tomas barely swallowed the morsel in his mouth and looked at you with a manner that showed he didn’t understand why you could want such a thing.

‘‘Why would you want to go there?’’

‘‘Out of curiosity, of course.’’ After giving him a little look with your flushed cheeks, you cleared your throat with an artificial cough. ‘’There’s something else I’m curious about.’’

‘’Are you going to ask why I don’t resemble my brothers in appearance?’’

‘’No, actually, I was going to ask why Kuai Liang said ‘Earthrealm’ that night. The other one is a personal question; it wouldn’t be right for me to ask you to explain.’’

Even so, when you were talking to him like that, Tomas felt the need to explain to you. He decided to sit back in his chair and calmly tell you everything from the beginning, so that he could make you understand the world you’ve fallen into a little better and make sense of it, maybe so that you could also start feeling safer around them. After all, you were going to be together for three months, and no one knew better than him how exhausting it was to be constantly on edge, both physically and mentally.

‘‘I am not their brother by blood; I am adopted,’’ Tomas said simply. ‘’Before I became a part of Lin Kuei, I had my mother and twin sister; we were hunters. We made our living by selling the meat and fur of the animals we hunted, until one day we hunted in the wrong territory. There was an accident.’’ As Tomas slowly began to tell you about his life, he was surprised at how easily the words fell from his lips. Normally, he was a closed box to someone he didn’t know; he wouldn’t open his past easily, but something in you was preventing him from doing so.

‘‘I am so sorry for your loss.’’ It was impossible not to hear the sadness and sincerity in your voice; your gaze had an expression that showed that you were really sorry for his loss. One hand was hesitantly raised, then Tomas did not pull or push his hand away when you placed your hand on his hand, quite delicately, indicating that he could easily get out of your grip if he wanted to. Your touch defined you; it was warm and reassuring, and it also made him realize how much he really needed it.

‘‘Thank you,’’ said Tomas, involuntarily. With his thumb, he gently stroked the top of your hand as a token of his gratitude. When he started to retell where he left off, you were listening to him with great attention. You didn’t interrupt for once; your facial expression was lit up with a warm expression, sometimes sad, sometimes showing that you were proud of his achievements. After briefly mentioning his past, when he came to the question you asked, he actually mentioned that there is more than one world, the details of Lin Kuei’s purpose, creature from other worlds, and gods. While listening to what you were saying with great interest, Tomas was starting to enjoy watching your expression more and more.

"It turns out that I've been sleeping under a rock all this time.’’ You said, gasping in amazement. ‘’So you're superheroes, are you?’’

Tomas chuckled at your comparison.

‘’It was an overly generous comparison. It would be more accurate to say protector than superhero; we served under the orders of Lord Liu Kang to protect Earthrealm from external dangers.’’

“Lord Liu Kang… He was the one who was the Fire God, wasn’t he?’’

‘‘Yes, that’s him.’’

‘’I can’t believe it, God, huh?” You were like a little girl sitting on the edge of a chair, warmed up with excitement, cheeks flushed as if you held a huge candy in your hand. ‘‘No wonder Bi-Han got mad at me when I accidentally branded you as blood lust murderers. After what you said, my own life suddenly seemed very… simple.’’

Tomas reached for his now cold coffee, hiding his laughter. ‘’I’d like to hear it.’’ He said, trusting in the small, fragile bond established between you through the conversation.

‘’Well, what I’m going to tell you may not sound as cool as yours. I graduated from the software engineering department last year, I was working as a programmer at a game company until a few days ago, but I lost the job.’’

‘‘I’m sorry to hear that.’’ Tomas said in a genuine voice. You shrugged your shoulders as if it were all right, but your face had fallen a little, revealing what was going through your mind.

‘‘Don’t worry, I wasn’t happy working there anyway, it was more about making money. Actually, my dream is to one day secure a partnership with one of the big companies by releasing my own game, but when you face the real world, you realize it’s not that simple. No one wants to partner with a novice; someone without a background. Plus, I haven’t found any inspiration for my so-called game yet anyway.’’

Leaning one hand on your chin, your face fell with a mix of unhappiness and a hint of pessimism. Tomas felt a strong need to console you and put a smile back on your face.

‘‘It doesn’t sound impossible.’’ He said with a smile. ‘’Besides, it’s their loss that they’ve lost a talented woman like you.’’

Watching your cheeks flush with his compliment filled Tomas with pride and an irresistible desire for more. As you shyly murmured a small ‘’Thank you’’, Tomas heard the front door open. While his body reflexively tensed, his muscles were ready and alert until he saw who was coming.

When Bi-Han’s imposing body appeared at the entrance, you stood up, moving before him.

‘’Bi-Han! Welcome, we were having breakfast. Are you hungry? I’ve saved something for you too.’’

‘’I’m none of your concern.’’ Bi-Han’s words cut yours short, and within seconds, the smile vanished from your face, shattering the warmth Tomas had worked to foster, and you retreated into your former guarded and distant demeanor. ‘’I remember I told you to take care of Kuai Liang.’’

‘‘His condition hasn’t changed since you left, brother.’’ Tomas responded in kind, his words adding to the escalating tension between them. Sensing the growing unease, you delicately cleared your throat, subtly redirecting both their attention.

‘’I’d better go to the library, as always you can use the things in the house as you like. Tomas, if you want to watch something on Netflix, please don’t hesitate to use it.’’ With your head bowed, you left the room after finishing your words quietly, leaving Tomas and Bi-Han alone.

Tomas ended up near Bi-Han, taking a hard breath. ‘’Why are you acting like this? She’s done nothing but help us so far.’’

‘’And did you believe it?’’ Bi-Han’s voice was thick and authoritative, sounding incredibly deep. “You’re still very naive, Tomas.’’

‘’If you can’t choose your words carefully, can’t you at least pay a little more attention to your intonation? You’re scaring her.’’

‘’And why should I care? As long as the book exists, there will always be a master, and that woman is no different from the others. You have to understand, Tomas, it would just be foolish to trust anyone but each other, especially when you have such tremendous power in your hands. Don’t get your hopes up.’’

Tomas wanted to oppose him, but unfortunately, although Bi-Han spoke with his usual brutality, he was right on one point; as long as the master-slave relationship existed, it carried a power that could easily deconstruct the delicate trust established despite everything. An order that would come out of one’s lips was enough to take away their consent.

After Tomas stayed silent, Bi-Han approached him, his intense gaze lingering for a moment before shifting to the food simmering on the stove.

‘’What is this?’’ Opening the lid curiously, he looked at what was inside. ‘’Did you do it?’’

‘’No, she prepared the porridge so that Kuai Liang could eat comfortably.’’

With his answer, one of the muscles in Bi-Han’s jaw twitched.

‘’I told her to not interfere.’’

‘’She may not be the person we thought, Bi-Han.’’ Said Tomas, there was an opposition in his voice that he didn’t understand where it was coming from. ‘’Tell me, which master has prepared breakfast or something similar for us before?’’

‘’Stop calling them masters!’’ Although Bi-Han turned to him angrily with furious eyes and stood in front of him as if he were a mountain of intimidation, Tomas did not allow him to intimidate him. He wanted him to hear what he was thinking.

‘’I’m not saying we should trust her, but you know as well as I do that she hasn’t done anything to deserve your cruel approach so far. She wants us to be comfortable in his house, she even gave Kuai Liang her bedroom, just to help him in the healing process. She tried to set us free the very first moment we came out of the book-‘’

‘’This is not the first time we have encountered this situation.’’ Bi-Han interjected once again. “At some point, she’ll be compelled to give us orders. I wonder if you’ll still defend her then.”

***

It’s been a few hours since you returned from the library. Throughout your time there, you remained engrossed in the books you brought back, occasionally scribbling something in your notebook and muttering to yourself. Finally, Tomas approached, more curious about your activities than the movie he was watching. When you lifted your head from among the books at his approach, you asked, ‘’The movie didn’t catch your attention?’’

‘’Frankly, I was more interested in what you were doing. You’ve been sitting there for hours, doesn’t your neck hurt?’’

As you tested his words by moving your neck, a hint of pain crossed your face, accompanied by a soft whimper. ‘’Ouch, you were right. My neck is terribly stiff.’’

Offering to help, Tomas raised his hands in the air, gesturing to massage your neck. ‘’If you want?’’

‘’If it’s all right with you, please,’’ you responded, your voice a blend of shyness and gratitude. As Tomas took his place behind you and began massaging your shoulders and neck, he felt a strange electric current once again. Your skin felt soft and tender between his calloused fingers, and he couldn’t help but notice the clean and beautiful scent emanating from you, enveloping him in a sweet warmth. Slowly, your stiffened body began to unravel and relax under his touch. Curious about your reading material, Tomas inquired, ‘‘May I ask what you are reading?’

‘‘I’m doing research. These books contain a ton of information about witchcraft, spells, and curses. I thought maybe there might be some useful information in it for your situation.’’

‘’Have you been looking at these for hours?’’ Tomas asked incredulously.

With a simple ‘’Yes,’’ you innocently confirmed. As Tomas watched you turn another page, he felt a familiar ache in his heart. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was for understanding and kindness. Every movement, every word, every soft look and smile you shared seemed to weave into Tomas’ soul, confirming his growing certainty that you were unlike anyone he had ever met before.

‘’You must be tired, thank you, Tomas, that’s enough,’’ When you spoke from the book without raising your head, Tomas reluctantly withdrew his hands, even though he didn’t want to. Touching you like this felt nice; it was a rare sensation to interact with another body of his own accord, free from orders. Moreover, it was confined to a simple touch without fulfilling desires, a sensation he had almost forgotten. It also made him feel powerful, as it was an action he took by his own decision, highlighting the profound impact of a simple gesture on him.

“May I accompany you?” Tomas asked.

“Of course, you don’t even need to ask. You can look at whatever you want, and if you want to have a drink, you know where they are,” you replied, smiling at him. Tomas opted to brew herbal tea for the both of them. He carefully poured the freshly boiled water into two mugs before selecting green tea bags to steep in each one. As he settled next to you, he glanced at what you had written.

“Have you found anything yet?”

“To be honest, not really,” you admitted, reaching for the mug he offered. With a sigh, you glanced wearily over the open books. “Salt baths, incense, and natural stones have been mentioned, but these seem more for balancing energy. I haven’t come across anything about how to deal with black magic yet.”

“Don’t push yourself for our sake.”

“What? What do you mean?” You looked at him with furrowed eyebrows, a slight hint of frustration in your expression, urging him to explain.

“The demon who cursed us, Quan Chi, is a master of black magic and is cruel as well. You’re not the first person to promise to help us; I’ve seen this scenario before. I don’t think the solution is found in these books, so you shouldn’t burden yourself too much searching for answers you may not find. Our past attempts to break the curse only led to more suffering, it only led to disappointment and despair.”

Your eyebrows furrowed further in response, and though your expression darkened, your eyes betrayed a hurt that softened your features.

“I can understand why you’re hesitant to trust given your past experiences, and it infuriates me to think that others have exploited you in this way.’’ you asserted, your tone tinged with emotion. ‘’While the solution may not be found in these books, we won’t know unless we try, Tomas. I refuse to simply stand by and watch as time slips away and you’re forced back into that book. Our paths have crossed for some reason, and I will help you as much as my means allow. I understand that trusting again is daunting, even frightening, but I’m asking you to give it a chance.”

‘Only a fool would hope,’ Bi-Han’s words from years ago echoed in Tomas’s mind. It was easier to believe that you were playing some kind of game than to trust. But, on the other hand, it was undeniable that there was a hint of truth in your words. If you had a different purpose, you wouldn’t have gone to all this trouble or greeted Bi-Han’s rude words with silence. Even though you knew the power you had over them, you were always careful about the words you used, afraid to abuse it and put them in a difficult situation. Tomas didn’t want to make the same mistake again. He had been in that book for ten years and had seen and experienced a lot. He could navigate the familiar order, knowing the rules and what to expect. But this situation was different.

Maybe after a few days, you would change your mind and want to take advantage of this opportunity that fell into your lap. You might be overwhelmed while searching for a solution, realizing it wasn’t a problem you had to solve, or you might grow tired of them invading your home. The possibilities were endless. Despite this, Tomas still didn’t know what would be left of himself if he chose to trust again, only for it to end badly.

“Tomas?” Your soft voice pulled him out of his thoughts, and he met your worried gaze. “Are you all right? If what I said made you feel uncomfortable, I’m sorry.”

Your words, whispered gently, stirred the dilemma Tomas found himself in. It was too early for him to make a decision, as he didn’t even know you properly. Yet, there was a part of him that wanted to believe in you. Despite all the challenges he had faced, you were the first master he wanted to give a chance to after all these years. But he avoided saying it, not wanting to give you the power to manipulate him. As much as he wanted to give you a chance, the part of him that longed to escape from this situation and the complex emotions you evoked in him was more dominant.

“I’m fine, it’s okay,” Tomas replied, brushing off your concern. “I want to take a look at this book.”

As Tomas changed the subject and reached for one of the books in front of him, you eyed him one more time then resumed your reading quietly, allowing him the space to process his thoughts.

A serene silence enveloped the room, punctuated only by the rain outside tapping against the window, the gentle rustling of paper, and the occasional exchange of words between you. Tomas found himself once again enveloped in the same sense of peace he had felt while watching the movie with you last night. It was a rare feeling, one that he hadn’t experienced since being sealed within the book—time spent according to his own will, without orders or prohibitions.

As you sat back after having a snack and took a deep breath, Tomas’s attention was drawn to you like a magnet. Although he had been pretending to focus on the books in front of him, he found himself increasingly intrigued by observing you. Your facial expressions were as transparent as the pages of the books, and Tomas couldn’t help but watch you intently, captivated by your every movement and expression.

“It’s getting late,” you remarked with a tired smile, stifling a yawn with the back of your hand. “Are you feeling sleepy yet?”

“Not really,” Tomas replied honestly, though the idea of closing his eyes lingered in the corner of his mind. Despite having spent close to two years inside the book and therefore doing nothing, he couldn’t shake off the effects of insomnia. Trained to be a perfect assassin, he was accustomed to enduring extreme challenges beyond those faced by ordinary human. However, beneath the facade of strength and resilience, he was still human and had basic needs like everyone else. This included the need for sleep, a fundamental requirement that even his demanding training couldn’t negate.

“We could try lighting these candles, what do you think?” you suggested gently. “I also have another idea that might help, but we need to move to the couch for it.”

“I’m fine here, thank you,” Tomas replied, his voice betraying a hint of tension. You glanced at him, as if trying to discern what was bothering him, and placed a hand over his, giving it a gentle squeeze. Tomas felt his resistance waver at the contact, the part of him that craved connection stirring to life once again.

“Let’s give it a try, and if it doesn’t work, I promise not to insist.” you said softly.

Tomas wanted to refuse your offer, but he couldn’t resist your comforting smile and reassuring words any longer. “Alright,” With a sigh, he rose from his chair and settled into a corner of the couch, while you searched for candles in the room. As you lit a candle and placed it on the coffee table, dimming the other lights, Tomas’s body tensed instinctively.

“The smell will spread soon—Tomas?” Though he felt your weight settle into the seat beside him, Tomas couldn’t bring himself to turn and look at you. His eyes scanned every dimly lit corner of the room, searching for the perfect escape route. His muscles were tense, rendering him immobile like a statue, and his breath seemed to freeze in his lungs, causing his chest to barely rise and fall. His hunter instincts stirred to life, hazy with the need to survive, to prevent shadows from drawing near him as if they harbored fatal threats. Memories of his days as a hunter flickered in his mind, images of tracking prey through dense forests and navigating treacherous terrain. It was a life defined by instinct and survival, skills honed through years of relentless pursuit. Even now, those instincts remained sharp, guiding his every move in this unfamiliar setting.

“Tomas, what’s wrong?” you asked, concern evident in your voice.

“It’s dark,” Tomas managed to utter, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t like the darkness. It reminds me of the time I spent in the book.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I completely forgot! Just wait here, I’ll take care of it right away.” you responded, moving to get up. But Tomas stopped you abruptly, his fingers closing around your wrist with an iron grip. Though his hold may have been too tight, he felt powerless to loosen it, trapped in the conflict between fight or flight. His muscles tensed like coiled springs, his focus hazy with panic, aggravated and feeling more vulnerable than ever his instincts screaming at him to do something.

“Don’t go,” Tomas said, surprised at how foreign and commanding his own voice sounded. Though he intended it as a request, it came out more like an order. His voice was hoarse and strained, and he wasn’t even sure if you could hear him clearly.

“Okay, okay, I’m not going anywhere,” you assured him calmly, radiating a confidence that suggested you knew exactly what to do. “Tomas, it’s okay. Look at me.”

Your words cut through his panicked mind like a knife, and though his body remained tense, he obeyed, attempting to slow his breathing and regain his focus.

“Tomas,” you said softly, placing a hand on his cheek. He flinched at first, his body tensed more than before, ready to strike. If the circumstances had been different and he had seen you as a threat, he would have already broken your wrist because of this move. But you were no threat; your touch brought an unexpected sense of relief, like a balm to his frayed nerves. “Come on, turn your face to me. It’s okay.”

Though your hand rested gently on his cheek, you exerted no pressure, leaving the choice entirely up to Tomas. Slowly, hesitantly, he turned his head to face you, meeting your warm smile.

“That’s it, you’re safe. They’re just shadows. There’s no one here who can hurt you,” you reassured him, stroking his cheek gently. As he gazed into your soft, comforting eyes, Tomas felt the urge to fight slowly ebb away under your touch and gaze.

Along with your soothing words, Tomas allowed himself to be guided, feeling as though he were a stuffed rag doll after the sudden surge of adrenaline. His head came to rest on your legs, though he couldn’t quite decipher how he had ended up in this position. His muscles felt heavy, as if he were underwater, and his senses dulled, making it difficult to perceive movements and even more so to choose your words. All he could do was inhale the subtle scent of chamomile emanating from the candle and focus on the sensation your fingers created on his skin.

“It’s okay… Tomas… You won’t get hurt again… I’m here, I’ll keep you safe…” you murmured softly. Tomas wanted to laugh at your words, which he could only catch in pieces. How could you shield them? You had no power or ability, yet, your expression of wanting to safeguard these men, twice your size and skilled in taking lives, stirred something within Tomas. Despite the lingering adrenaline, he felt a wave of calmness wash over him, like a gentle ray of light caressing him. He found himself leaning into your touch, seeking comfort in the gentle caress of your fingers against his hair. Truly, you were unlike anyone he had ever met before, and it would be unfair to pretend otherwise.

As you gently stroked his hair, Tomas felt his body grow heavier, his eyelids drooping halfway. Despite a wave of panic at feeling so powerless and vulnerable, your words reassured him.

“I’m here, and I’ll be here when you wake up. Don’t worry, Tomas. You’re safe. You’re not in the book. You’re here in my house, next to me. Can you feel my touch?”

As your fingers continued to run through his short hair, Tomas succumbed to the weight pressing down on him, feeling as though he were being completely submerged underwater. His body went lax, not even having the power to lift a finger. Every muscle seemed to surrender to the fatigue, and he found himself unable to muster the slightest resistance. With a gasp, his eyes closed, enveloping him in the darkness of his own exhaustion.

***

When the light hit Tomas’s face, he initially frowned and attempted to shield his eyes by turning his head to the side. However, as the light persisted, his eyebrows furrowed even more, and a displeased expression formed on his lips. In response, a sweet giggle reached his ears, prompting him to open his eyes quickly. There, he was met with your image, and for a moment, he simply stared at you like a fool. Your greeting, delivered in a calm and soft voice reminiscent of the morning sun, warmed him from within.

“Good morning,” you said with a kind smile. “Did you sleep well?”

Confusion clouded Tomas’s mind. Sleep? Did he really sleep last night? He remembered his body aching but couldn’t recall falling asleep, his mind retracing the events of the previous night. The last thing he remembered was the delicate sensation of your fingers in his hair. Still resting his head on your lap, Tomas’s cheeks warmed as he managed a small “Yes,” filled with disbelief. Your smile widened at his response.

“I’m glad to hear that,” you replied. With your hand still resting gently among his short silver hair, Tomas marveled at how natural the moment felt. Your presence brought him peace, as if you had always been there just waiting for him to find it, and there was something undeniably addictive about it. It was as though the chaos and uncertainty of his past had been momentarily suspended, replaced by a soothing tranquility he had longed for without even realizing it. In your company, the weight of his past seemed to lift, leaving behind a sense of clarity and hope that he hadn’t felt in years. For the first time in a long while, Tomas allowed himself to simply be, basking in the warmth of your touch and the serenity of the moment.

“You didn’t sleep?” he asked.

“No, I stayed awake because I was worried about you having another attack,” you confessed.

As Tomas’s cheeks flushed with shame, your unwavering concern only deepened the impact you had on him. Your words ignited within him a desire to shield and safeguard you. No one had ever approached him with such genuine kindness before. You were truly a kind-hearted and innocent person, evoking so many forgotten emotions within him. It was a feeling so unfamiliar and rare for him, he found himself instinctively wanting to protect you from any harm in that moment, unable to bear the thought of you suffering in any way. In his life, he had never felt this protective over someone in such a short amount of time. It was a fierce and raw instinct, almost primal in nature. Even he himself couldn’t fully grasp or comprehend this feeling.

“Thank you,” he said, lifting his head from your lap and reaching to touch your cheek. You smiled, leaning into his touch, and replied, “No big deal.” As Tomas gently stroked your soft, dreamy skin, he felt an alien sensation he hadn’t experienced in years. Could it be… happiness? The last time he had felt such pure joy was when he and his sister found a piece of glass they thought was a precious stone, believing it would improve their income. Looking at you now, he was transported back to that moment, reliving the feeling exactly.

His body rested and fit, and in the morning light illuminating the room, you looked more beautiful than ever in his eyes. Your presence felt like a remedy to his damaged body and mind, something he never expected but needed.

As he gently pulled you towards him, his touch so light that you could have easily slipped away, you didn’t resist. Your lips were soft, your breath warm, and as your lips met his with a sweet sigh, Tomas felt the walls he had built to resist crumbling. The sensation of your lips against his sent an electrifying jolt through him, every touch igniting a warmth in his chest that seemed to spread to every corner of his being. Each moment of it felt like an eternity, every brush of your lips against his sending waves of longing coursing through him. The kiss was delicate and soft, each movement cautious yet filled with desire. Tomas feared disrupting the moment, afraid to harm you as he savored the intoxicating sweetness of your scent mingled with the warmth of the morning light against his back.

Perhaps it was a foolish move, one that would invite reproachful glances from his brothers, especially Bi-Han, but it was worth experiencing this feeling. He wanted to trust—this moment, your words, you. It was a basic and burning need. Tomas had never fully believed in the promise that light comes after darkness, but in your presence, you made it seem believable, like there could be more. Your body nestled between his arms felt right, as if you were meant to be there, and he had finally found his way home. In that moment of kissing you, Tomas felt a sense of completeness wash over him.

He had never liked the dark, but with you by his side, it didn’t seem so daunting to face it anymore.

172 notes · View notes

romysradio · 3 months

Text

Look How Far We've Come - J.S.

summary - Y/N recalls the time she told Jake he was going to be a father

warnings - fluff, language, pregnancy, near-labor, use of Y/N

wc - 2.3k

A/N - Sorry about the wait! Here is part 2 of this. I am open to doing a part 3, or basically anything with the two of them "telling" the rest of the group. Leave a comment or send something to my inbox if there's anything you want to see from me/with these two! Also Bradley isn't even in this technically, but in this au he is a major himbo if that wasn't obvious already, but we love him. Okay, happy reading!!!

The mini fan Jake had packed was propped up on the side table, blowing a weak stream of air your way but doing absolutely nothing to lessen the sweltering August heat. Huffing loudly, you stopped bouncing on the exercise ball and used your forearm to wipe the sweat from your forehead.

A hum of satisfaction drew your attention to Jake, who was lounging on the hospital bed eating a sandwich he packed before you guys left. Another noise left his mouth as he took another bite, completely oblivious to the murderous glare you were sending his way.

“Ya know, you have an awful lot of trust in the idea that I won’t come over there and smother you and that damn sandwich with a pillow.” Jake’s eyes widened and his chewing halted at your threat, before a smug grin took over his face.

“Now darlin’, I don’t know about the pillow, but I’ll let you smother me with somethin’ else if you want,” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. You stared at him, your face deadpan, before pulling a hair elastic off your wrist and slingshotting it at his forehead.

“Hey! Don’t damage government property!” He whined, rubbing where the elastic hit him.

You rolled your eyes, “Whatever. Come help me up so I can go sit on my hospital bed.” Jake quickly placed the sandwich on the table next to the fan before rushing over to your side. Grabbing your outstretched hands, he slowly pulled you up off the ball before helping you waddle over to the bed.

With Jake’s help, you eased yourself onto the bed, sitting cross-legged rubbing your rounded belly. Your stomach growled, hunger overtaking your senses. You hadn’t been allowed to eat anything since you were admitted that morning, but seeing as you had been in labor for eight hours since then, you were absolutely starving. Moving ever so slowly, you reached over to the side table, picking up Jake’s half-eaten sandwich as he dug through your hospital bag.

“Here, I got you–Woah, woah, woah. Hand over the sandwich, little lady.” Damn it.

You froze, sandwich halfway to your mouth. Jake’s outstretched hand motioned for you to give it up, and you sighed, placing the sandwich in his palm. “But Jaaaaake, I’m starving.” You whined irritably.

“Hi, Starving, I’m Dad.” He winked.

If looks could kill, Jake Seresin’s body would be unidentifiable, yet the look on your face did nothing to wipe the goofy grin off his face. His green eyes sparkled with mischief, absolutely delighted with himself. You hoped your son got his eyes. And that sweet Seresin smile. You fought off a small grin, and groaned, “Can you please just tell your son to stop taking his sweet time so that I can finally eat something?”

Jake pulled one of the chairs up to the edge of the bed before leaning over and gently cradling your bump. Nine months in and you still got butterflies at the feeling of his big, warm hands on your stomach.

You always knew you wanted children someday, and while these were certainly not the circumstances you had always envisioned, the thought of a little tiny baby, half-you and half-Jake Seresin, made your heart squeeze.

As he pressed kisses and mumbled words to your hospital gown-covered belly, you delicately carded your fingers through his soft blond hair. Everything about your pregnancy felt like a whirlwind. The past nine months had flown by, riddled with anxiety about motherhood and what life would look like after the baby arrived, but right now, with Jake right next to you, you felt oddly at peace. You couldn’t help but think back to how stressed and anxious you had been to tell him you were pregnant.

—--------

You paced the living room anxiously, your mind running a mile a minute. You could hear the clock ticking slowly in the kitchen, reminding you that any second, Jake Seresin’s truck would be pulling into your driveway.

The knot in your stomach was getting tighter with each passing second. What if he got mad? What if he didn’t believe that the baby was his? What if he didn’t want anything to do with the baby? What if he didn’t want anything to do with you?

You knew it was unfair to assume the worst about Jake. People could say whatever they wanted about Hangman, but Jake Seresin had never been anything but sweet and genuine with you. A little cocky, maybe, but he’d never given you any reason to believe he’d leave you hanging.

Selfishly, you also wondered what this would mean for the two of you. You’d always had a thing for Jake, and you were secretly hoping after the two of you hooked up, it would become something more, but a baby just complicated all of that. You wanted him to want you for you, not just because you were having his baby.

The slamming of a truck door pulled you from your thoughts. You tried to psych yourself up as you went to let him in. It’s gonna be fine. You’re just gonna sit him down and rip the bandaid off. It’ll be fine. Everything’s gonna be fine. What could possibly go wrong?

“Hi,” You breathed out, “Thanks for coming over.”

“Of course.” Jake grinned, stepping inside. You internally groaned as you took in his appearance. His dark blonde hair was messy, yet somehow looked perfectly styled. His navy blue jacket was pulled off, revealing a tight white t-shirt underneath, paired with lighter wash jeans which covered his toned legs. How was it fair that he looked so good all of the time?

You shook your head, trying to get rid of the dirty thoughts that were quickly filling it. You waited as he toed his boots off and hung his jacket on a hook by the door before leading him to the couch.

“So,” You started, “I asked you to come over because I need to talk to you about something,”

Jake watched you carefully as you went on, “Do you remember that night we spent together, about a month ago?”

A knowing smirk took over his face, “You know I do, honey. Is that what this is about?”

“Well, yeah, you see–”

“Darlin’, I know we agreed on it being a one-time thing, but if you wanted it to happen again, all you had to do was ask.”

“Ok, but Jake, that’s not–”

“Y’know, I’ve actually been thinking about it too and–”

“Jake, I’m pregnant.” And off comes the bandaid.

His face was frozen in place. You felt like you could see the gears turning inside his head. The blonde carefully got to his feet, slowly pacing in front of the couch.

“O-okay, so,” He glanced at you, an unreadable expression on his face, “So you’re pregnant?”

You nodded gently, getting to your feet. You stood in front of him, halting his movement. Your hands wrapped around his strong, muscular biceps, the tanned skin beneath your–No. Him and those damn muscles are what got you into this situation in the first place.

He stared at you wide-eyed, “And I’m the father?”

You nodded again. The sound of Jake’s quickening breaths engulfed the two of you for a moment. You were about to explain to him that you didn’t expect anything from him when he opened his mouth again.

“B-but, but, we– I mean, I– and the– oh god, and you’re–” His breaths were shallow as his knees buckled. Your grip on him tightened as you tried to hold his towering frame upright, but you could feel him becoming dead weight.

“Alright, down we go, cowboy.” You muttered as you eased the two of you back onto the couch. You quickly reached for your untouched glass of water on the coffee table before handing it to Jake.

“Here, drink this.” He gratefully accepted it, bringing the glass to his lips as you reached your hand up and pushed a few soft, blond strands off his damp forehead. The two of you sat for what felt like hours, but was probably only a few minutes as Jake absorbed the information.

Kids were something Jake Seresin had never given much thought. Sure, growing up in a conservative Texas family, the idea wasn’t unfamiliar to him, but he’d always known he wanted to be in the Navy. It wasn’t that he didn’t want a wife and kids, he had just assumed it would be something he would have to forgo in order to achieve his career goals. He had accepted that it wasn’t in the cards for him.

“You’d make a great mom,” He spoke quietly, placing the glass back down before turning to you. “I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean– that was just…a lot to take in.”

You snorted, “Oh, trust me, I know.” The energy in the room shifted as the two of you sat gazing at each other. A deep silence settled between you and Jake as you both searched for the right thing to say.

“I just want you to know that I’m not, like, expecting anything from you or whatever,” You cringed at your bluntness and lack of articulation. “Sorry– I just mean, you can be as involved or not involved as you want. This is a huge surprise for both of us, and I won’t force you to raise a baby if you don’t want to.”

Jake’s expression was unreadable as your words hung in the air. The ticking of the clock in the kitchen was practically deafening as you waited for him to say something, anything.

“You were right in that this is definitely a surprise,” He chuckled.

Jake could never have predicted this. He never even considered the possibility of an unplanned pregnancy, and he couldn’t even imagine what his grandmother would say if she were here. But Jake didn’t care. Right now, one of his favorite people in the entire world was sitting in front of him, literally growing his baby. He was being given an opportunity to have at least a little part of the life he never thought was possible, and he’d be damned if he didn’t take it.

“But if you want to do this, I’m gonna be right there with you. I wanna be as involved as you’ll let me be.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, it was like a floodgate had opened. Your vision blurred as fat tears spilt over, dripping down your cheeks.

“Hey, hey, hey, what’s wrong?,” Jake cooed comfortingly. He gently lifted you so you were straddling his lap, before pulling you into his arms. You let the tears flow, emptying your head to focus on nothing but the warmth of Jake’s embrace.

You weren’t sure how long the two of you stayed like that before you pulled back slightly, wiping your eyes with the sleeve of the gray hoodie adorning your frame. “Sorry,” You sniffled, “it’s the hormones. One month in and they’re already all out of whack.”

One look at the shoulder of Jake’s white shirt, now littered with stains of mascara and teardrops, had your eyes welling up again. “Shit, your shirt…” You frowned, quickly tried wiping it off, knowing full well your actions were useless.

Jake chuckled, gently grasping your wrist and pulling it away from the stains. “Hey, don’t worry about it. I should probably start getting used to it. I mean, think about it, eight months from now and you and I both will be getting far worse stains on our clothes.”

You let out a watery laugh, a smile making its way onto your face as you realized Jake would probably be the first person to make baby spit-up look good.

—--------

“What are you thinkin’ about, hm?” Jake’s soothing voice drew your attention back to the present.

“When I told you I was pregnant.” You laughed lightly. You watched as Jake smiled fondly, reminiscing about that day last December.

“We’re ready for this, right?” You whispered, unsure if you were really asking Jake or yourself. The blonde lifted his head, hands still glued to your stomach, and met your misty eyes.

“Course we are, darlin’, are you kiddin’ me? We were born ready.” He grinned again. You gave him a pointed look, “Okay, maybe not born ready, but I feel like we have more than enough experience since we basically parent Rooster.”

You giggled at that. Jake wasn’t really wrong, considering how one of Bradley’s terms for letting Jake move in with you guys was that one of you had to pack him a lunch for work everyday.

“Well then, let’s just hope–” The words were stolen from your tongue as pain jolted through you. You closed your eyes, grabbing and squeezing Jake’s hand as your stomach tightened. With his free hand, Jake massaged your neck gently.

“Breathe, baby, breathe. Do you want me to go get the nurse?”

You nodded, eyes still pinched shut. Jake squeezed your hand and kissed your temple before quickly going to find the nearest nurse. He came back 30 seconds later, a red headed nurse trailing him. She smiled warmly at you, pulling on a fresh pair of gloves.

“All right, Miss L/N, let’s check how many centimeters, shall we?”

You took a deep breath, leaning into Jake’s side as he sat, perched on the edge of the hospital bed. The blonde began stroking your hair with his large hand as the nurse stood back up, “Well, it looks like it’s time to head to the delivery room.”

Your eyes widened, “Wait, seriously? This isn’t a joke, right? You’re serious?”

She chuckled at your reaction, “Yes, Ma’am. You’re ten centimeters dilated. You’re about to become a mom.”

You lifted your head to look at Jake, chest tight with a mixture of anxiety and overwhelming happiness, “We’re about to become parents.”

The signature Seresin smile found its way to his face, his green eyes shining with excitement. Jake pushed a stray hair behind your ear, “Yes, we are, honey. Yes, we are.”

Taglist:

@mamachasesmayhem

@eloquentdreamer

#jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #hangman x reader #tgm fic #jake seresin fluff #glen powell #jake seresin fic #jake seresin x you #top gun hangman #hangman fic #towtls #the one with the longhorns shirt #look how far we've come #lhfwc #romysradio

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mysicklove-main · 11 months

Text

Parings: Yandere! Rengoku x Fem! Reader

Word Count: 14.3k (Part 1/3)

Warnings: This chpt is pretty chill so, overprotectiveness, slight possessiveness, vague meanings, rengoku personality does 180s, character injury, minor character death, gore (demon eating human and reader gets impaled)

Summary: Meeting the one you have idolized for years is a once in a lifetime experience. So, you live it up, baking him all the treats in the world. When you finally befriend him, you believe that everything is going great. But he keeps saying strange things, and is acting like he isn't leaving by the end of the week...

𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

Growing up, you have always idolized demon slayers. Your father was one, and he told you and your brother everything about them from a young age. Sure, it may have scared the daylights out of you, but at least you were forever prepared for the real world.

He had planned to teach both of you the ways of a slayer, but he passed early into your childhood. With your mom passing at birth, it was only you and your older brother. The two of you made do with the loss.

Instead of following in your father’s footsteps, the two of you lived a simple life. The both of you live in a small cottage, just on the outskirts of a village. You woke up early every morning to sell fresh baked goods to the villagers, while your brother traveled west, aiding the sickly, and making money through donations. He always came back after one week of being gone.

When the two of you are together, you always are reminiscing over the stories your father once told. Most of the time referring back to how he met the Hashiras.

By god, you idolized them. You have always dreamed of meeting them like your father did. He described them as the most skilled people on the planet. The protectors of the human world. His words couldn’t help but draw you in. You wanted to know everything about them. How they trained, how they spoke, how they lived.

You daydream all the time about meeting any of them.

Specifically, the son of the man who once saved your father from death. Who granted him an extra three years with you. You have fond memories of how your father used to mention how strong the boy was from such a young age. The boy who was built to protect.

You dreamed of meeting him. You were a plain girl who lived a normal life, so you couldn’t even fathom the thought of being your age and fighting off demons. The thought of him drew you in and you vowed to someday find him.

You knew what he looked like. Your father went into detail about the child. The boy who looks like the flame. Fiery hair and eyes.

You shiver in glee like you always do when you think of your idol. He has to be your age by now, maybe a little older. You wonder what he is like, of course, he has to be unbelievably strong, but was he arrogant because of it? Or was he kind? You didn't care, you just want to see him. Talk to him. Just one time. That's all you needed.

“Hey, Y/N!” Your brother calls as you begin your journey toward the village. You turn, to see him in front of the house, his travel backpack on, and waving at you.

You frown. “You're not leaving right?” You respond, and the waving arm hesitates. He had just got home yesterday, he usually stays for a week before leaving.

“I have to! I just got word that someone needs my help.”

You sigh but nod. He always was so kind. “You'll come back? In a week?”

He grins at you, that bright smile he inherited from your father. You wish yours was as bright as his. That's part of the reason he was loved by all. “Always. I'll be back in a week’s time. Be good without me!”

You throw up a hand, waving him goodbye. “I will! Be safe!” You call and he smiles in return, before turning his back on you and beginning his journey.

You sigh when he disappears, sensing something amiss, but brush it off. Your worries always got the best of you, and you needed to focus.

Alas, you begin to walk forward and toward the village.

You are greeted by your regulars, and many of the elderly come up to you to complain about how big you are getting. You always have to remind them that you are not a child anymore, but nevertheless, they never seem to get it.

The villagers have always been kind to you, and you were forever grateful. With the lack of parents, it was nice to have someone to turn to for affection.

Currently, you were walking around and greeting the villagers, with your hands completely full of fresh goods. A handful of people approached you and paid their dues, with a warm smile. The business was going well, and you were having a nice time chatting with the villagers.

You see a dark hooded figure in the distance, walking quickly toward you. Politely, you make your way to the other side of the road to avoid the stranger. You slightly nod to yourself and continue forward.

Suddenly, at a couple steps away they switch back into your lane and run completely into you. Their shoulder knocks into yours and you wince. Black gloved hands move quickly and you can see them snatch the money in your pocket. You can’t seem to do anything, because the force of his shoulder has sent you falling backward.

You land on your backside with a groan and watch all of your baked goods tumble across the pavement. Immediately you look up toward the stranger, but he was gone. So, you turn back toward the ground and try to scoop up any of the pastries you can.

They are all ruined. You try not to let it get to you, but it hits you hard. You sit on your knees on the hard pavement and clench your fists, trying not to cry. All that time you spent baking and selling was for nothing. Just for some thief to steal your hard work from you.

A shadow stands in front of you, but you ignore it, too focused on yourself to deal with another kind villager. You don’t want to lash out at them.

A booming male voice says, “Are you alright?”

You jump at the sheer power of the stranger’s call but continue to keep your head down. Tears were now pooling in your eyes and you quickly wipe them away. “I'm okay. It's fine, you can go now,” You mumble, but the shadow doesn't move.

“How could I leave a maiden in need?” He continues, still abnormally loud. You shake your head and sigh, before grabbing the remaining pastries and putting them back in their holder. When you begin to stand up, you feel a strong arm, grab onto yours and help ease your way up.

You finally look up to take in the man’s appearance and your eyes widen. Eyes and hair of a flame. A fire kimono. A sword connected to his side.

This was him. The man you have wanted to meet your entire life. It had to be.

Your mouth hangs open as your mind blanks. He frowns slightly. “Are you alright, ma’am?”

“Its…It’s you,” You say breathlessly, not caring at the moment how strange you may sound.

He frowns even more at your vague statement. “Oh! Do you know me?” His voice causes some heads to turn, but he seems to ignore it, almost used to the stares.

You blink at him. You are at a loss for words. He was here. You didn’t actually think this would happen. It was supposed to be just a dream.

A couple of seconds go by.

He instead changes the subject at your silence. “Well! I see that you dropped these.” He points to the now dirty danishes. “How upsetting! I wanted to buy some. Will you make more?”

This seems to snap you back into reality and you begin to ramble nervously. “Oh…Yeah. A thief knocked me over and took my money. Just my luck, huh? But i'll be back tomorrow with fresh ones.” You're blushing. You didn’t say or do anything embarrassing, but the fact that you are finally in his presence is making you squirm.

He smiles and you tear your eyes away from him, a wobbly smile pulling at your face. “Great! I'll buy the whole bunch in advance!” He hands you a huge stack of money and you gape at him. He just handed you two days worth of cash.

“Sir, this is way too much!” You splutter, beginning to hand him back the money. He just laughs in return. His huge body tilts back with the booming noise.

“Nonsense! It's to compensate for what the thief did to you.”

“Are you sure sir? You don't have to do that.”

“I want to. As long as you promise to make more of those danishes!”

His kindness makes you beam and the words slip out of you before you could stop them. “You are so generous, sir. As expected of such a high-rank demon slayer!”

You knew you sounded like a total fangirl, clutching your fists with sparkles in your eyes, but you didn’t care. The fact that you weren’t freaking out right now was impressive.

He cocks his head to the side, the soft smile never falling. “You know who I am?”

“Of course, I know who you are! The flame harisha. One of the strongest demon slayers out there. I am a huge fan, sir!” You grin up at him, setting the ruined danishes aside, and he lets out another powerful laugh.

He didn't seem as shocked that you knew about demons as you thought he was going to be. Or maybe he was just hiding it pretty well. “I didn't know I had fans!”

You hum with a frantic nod. “If everyone knew what you did for us, you would have millions of fans!”

He places a hand on your shoulder and you buzz with happiness. “You are too kind, ma’am. But please don't give me so much praise! I am only doing my job.”

You shake your head, “You’re being way too humble! You have no idea how great you are.” You pause, coming back to reality. You don't want to annoy the slayer with your useless rambling, he was a busy man.

You sigh and instead, bow. “Thank you for everything. I won’t take up your time.” Your voice is quieter and more controlled but still expresses your immense gratitude.

You grab your stuff and head home with a gleeful look in your eyes before he could even say anything.

A second goes by and you begin to daydream about the types of danishes you are going to make for him. Suddenly, you feel a presence, so you turn to your side to see him walking beside you, a small content smile on his face. You almost jump, his movements were so silent, how did he catch up with you so fast?

When he notices you take in his appearance he turns to you and grins. “You’ll be back tomorrow, right? I must dine on some of your baked goods!”

You match his intensity with a wide smile. “Of course. I wouldn’t lie to you, sir!”

“Please, call me Rengoku.”

“Of course, Mr. Rengoku!” You are buzzing again. Two conversations you have had with him and now you know his name. You couldn’t wait to tell your brother all about this.

“Great! I’ll see you tomorrow…” He pauses, turning toward you, hinting for you to continue.

“Y/N.”

“Tomorrow then, Miss Y/N. Stay safe!” And just like he appeared, he disappeared in a matter of seconds, while you are stuck red in the face from your idol saying your very own name.

You could die happy.

You woke up extra early the next morning. The goods had to be absolutely perfect. You were determined for him to like them. You even used some frosting to draw little orange flames on them. You hoped he didn’t think they were lame. It’s definitely a very good possibility he did.

When the sun rose, you grabbed your iteams and quickly headed down the hill. The quicker you got there, the better. You didn’t want them to get cold.

The town was extra busy that day. More people greeted you on the streets and you had to apologize to many that you weren’t selling today. After all, he bought every single one.

Your head hung high and you were practically skipping around the town, beaming at anyone and everyone.

You don’t seem to notice the small curb in front of you. You run into it, and screech when you begin to fall forward, not knowing what to do. You could drop your danishes and save yourself from pain, or you could move the basket up and brace yourself for a harsh fall straight to the face.

You weren’t about to let Rengoku’s desserts get ruined.

Just as you were about to hit the floor you stop. You feel a hand on your shoulder, as you stare face to face with the ground. You clutch the pastries. “Miss Y/N, its a pleasure seeing you here!” The familiar voice calls and you turn red out of sheer embarrassment at the situation you are in.

He pulls you back with just one hand and you have to physically restrain yourself from fangirling. He held your entire weight with one hand like it was no big deal.

You quickly turn around, trying to ignore the fuming of your face, and hold out the pastries to him. “Here! I hope you like them!” You exclaim while pulling the lid off to show him the decorated buns. You take in a deep breath and wait.

His eyes seem to sparkle when he takes in the frosting and you take this as a good sign. He smiles wide and grabs one of the goods. Without a second thought, he plops the entire thing into his mouth.

He chews in silence, and you could almost hear your heartbeat pound as you wait for his thoughts.

With a swallow, his eyes fall back to you, and he says, “Tasty!”

You beam instantly, matching his wide smile. “You think so?”

“I know so. These are one of the most delicious baked goods I have ever had!” The gleeful buzzing is back, you knew that your baking was good, but to hear it from his mouth was such a gift.

He puts both hands on both of your shoulders and you freeze at the touch, internally freaking out. “Come with me, Miss Y/N. Let us eat them together!” He exclaims, before snatching the goods from your hands with one hand and pulling you behind him with the other. You don’t have room for protest.

He leads you to the edge of the town and plops himself on a curb behind a small restaurant, and faces the hill you live on. You sit next to him, and he doesn’t seem to care about personal space, because almost instantly he is crowding yours.

You’re going to have to get used to this, you can’t freak out anymore than this.

He opens the box again and hands you one of the goods, but you pull away. “Those are for you, Mr. Rengoku. I can’t take something you bought!”

But, to your dismay, he grabs your hands, places a baked good into them, and shuts his fingers over yours. “Eat!”

You weren’t going to ignore his demand, so you pick up the bun and begin to nibble on it. He stares, waiting for a reaction. You smile hesitantly, “It’s good!”

“Right!” He exclaims before placing another danish into his mouth, with another loud, “Tasty!”

You begin to laugh at his antics. The way he yells, the way he dragged you away like it was nothing, and simply how enthusiastic he seemed to be. He was a strange man, but you couldnt help but like him even more.

He looks at you as he chews, while you throw your head back in a laugh. “Is there something funny?” He asks, glancing around the area. It was just the two of you.

“You are just so…so human!”

He mimics your smile, even if he is totally lost at your vague statement. “Well, I'd hope so!” He says before taking another huge bite.

Your smile softens as you stare at the food in your hands. “It’s just, I thought you would be different, you know? A Hashira, shouldn't you be super serious or arrogant?”

He swallows his bite and looks out toward the hill. His voice comes out softer, “You idolize me too much Miss Y/N. I am nothing but a man who must protect the weaker people of this world.”

“But do you want to? You aren’t forcing yourself to do this because of your father, right?” He turns to you with slightly wider eyes and blinks. The two of you remain in silence for a couple of seconds.

But then he grins, with the tilt of his head. He places a massive hand on the top of your head and you freeze. “Not to worry, Miss Y/N. I love what I do. I wouldn't change it for the world,” He says, slightly ruffling up your hair.

Another couple of seconds go by as you think of what to say. But he speaks up before you do. “You knew my father?” The man prompts, turning his attention directly on you. It makes you nervous, his watchful eyes seem to take in your every move.

You press on either way, tearing your eyes away so you can focus. “No, but he saved my father about ten years ago. So, I am forever indebted to the Rengoku family. I cannot thank you enough, Mr. Rengoku. Even if it wasn’t you who saved my father, you and your family have protected so many people. Saved so many. It's incredible, really, you're incredible,” You hum and he continues to stare.

You continue, you have been waiting to tell someone this, specifically him, so you couldn’t stop the rambling. “All of the Hashira are. For years I’ve daydreamed about meeting them. You specifically.” You glance up at him and quickly look back down in embarrassment when you see his small smile. “I've always idolized you all. It’s strange to think, we are the same species, but you are someone who risks their lives daily to kill demons, why I sell pastries to keep food on the table. It’s kinda embarrassing when you think about it…” You trail off, taking another bite of the good to keep yourself distracted.

Seconds go by and you begin to get uncomfortable. You turn toward him to meet his watchful stare. His fiery eyes seem to look through you. “I’m sorry, did I make you uncomfortable? I said way too much, please just enjoy the bun, I'll be quiet, I promise!”

He sets the danish down and your eyes follow it with a slight frown. He forcefully grabs your hands and you quickly look up shocked at the sudden touch. “Thank you for the kind words!” He yells and you cringe slightly at the volume. “But like I said yesterday, we are just fulfilling our duty. You are not indebted to anything. And Miss Y/N please don’t think that way! You don’t have to kill demons to be great, you know. Being this good of a baker is way more important than someone like me!”

The way he says it throws you off. It all sounds so genuine like he truly believes that what you are doing is important. He definitely knows how to make someone feel special. “T-Thank you, Mr. Rengoku!”

He smiles wide. “Please, call me Kyojuro! I think we are going to be friends, Y/N!”

You are taken aback. You didn’t think you would ever be friends with someone like him. It makes you grin. “You really think so?”

“Yes! Besides how else am I going personalized fresh goods from a pretty lady?” He says, gently letting go of your hands so he can point to the wobbly icing drawing of a flame located on the center of the bun.

Your face fumes, both from embarrassment at his compliment and the ridiculous decoration. You wave your hands in front of your face. “It’s nothing! You deserve much more sir—Kyojuro.”

“Nonsense! How could anyone deserve something so magnificent!” He declares, loud and full of pride.

It made another small laugh slip through your lips. It was endearing to see how passionate he was about the smallest things. He was unreasonably kind to you.

He grins with a small hum, when he sees you smile, before shoving another bun into his mouth.

“Tasty!”

And just like that, you made friends with a Hashira.

The two of you were quick to get closer to one another. I mean it was simple really, you interviewed him on his entire life story, while he happily explained. You bring him goods every day, and no matter how much you reassure him it’s fine, he always insists on paying you the full amount.

But nevertheless, you have been avoiding the question that hangs in the air. Why are you here?

You don't want to know. There has to be a demon near or else he would never come to this small town. You fear that when you ask that question it’s going to spur his leave. It’s been four days now. He has to be on his way soon.

You've grown attached even in this short period of time. He has to have that effect on others; you wouldnt believe him if he said otherwise. He was the type of person who people couldn’t help but be drawn to. It made you feel possessively good that he was spending time with you rather than the other villagers.

A shoulder bumps into you while you are lost in your daydream. You flinch back and into Kyojuro. He glances down at you and then snaps his gaze back to the man that knocked into you. In less than a heartbeat, the Hashira steps in front of you and grabs onto the jacket of the stranger. You could barely even process what was happening.

“Sir, I’d ask for you to apologize. You’ve disrespected a lady,” His voice is tight, but the Hashira smiles at the man. It makes you gulp.

You realized quickly that Kyojuro is…overprotective. It made sense though, his whole job is to protect people, but these were humans he was protecting you from. And most of the time they weren’t even doing anything amiss. Simple things like, a salesman having a snarky tone at you, a man trying to flirt with you for your service, a small child almost tripping you, or now, someone who accidentally bumped into you.

He never gets truly upset, the smile is still plastered on his face, but the tone is always sharp, dangerous even. His voice was powerful naturally, so to hear it shift was intimidating.

You grab onto his arm before the man could speak. “It’s fine, Kyojuro. It was my fault, I wasn’t paying attention.” You turn to the man and quickly bow in apologies.

His gaze sharpens, and you see his eyebrows begin to furrow at your actions. He didn’t seem to like this.

The man remains in his grasp. “Hey, you can let him go now,” You say, moving your hands to his fingers to try to coax them open.

His eyes remain locked on the man who was now struggling in his hold. “Apologize, sir.”

“Kyojuro, I said-”

He cuts you off, his loud voice cutting your train of thought short. “He touched you, so he must make up for it.” He smiles at you, but this time it doesn’t feel the same as it usually does. The malice in his voice is unhidden.

“I’m sorry! Can you just let me go you crazy bastard!” The man complains, grabbing at the Hashira’s wrist to pull himself away.

In an instant, Rengoku drops him, and the man scampers away, mumbling curses underneath his breath.

You sigh, your gaze following the man that beginning to disappear into the crowd. When you turn back around, Rengoku is staring at you, the familiar small smile on his face. “Was that really necessary?” You whine.

He huffs a small laugh, before placing a hand on your head. Something he seems to do as a sign of affection. “Of course it was! I can't let you be treated that way!”

His usual smile is back and you find comfort in it. In these moments he was always different, but he always snapped back to usual not long after. So, you tend not to dwell on them.

“Whatever you say, Kyojuro,” You hum, before changing the subject. “C’mon, let's head back to my place, I wanna teach you something!”

He pauses, eyes slightly widening. He has never been to your place before. The two of you tended to stay in the village, spending daylight hours with one other. You have never asked him over, and at this time. It was almost evening.

It made him concerned. Do you invite other men over to your place? He knew you idolized him, but if you had met Tengen or Giyuu first, would you have invited them over as well? It made him feel strange to think about it. You were too accepting, you should be more cautious of inviting people over. The two of you only met a couple of days ago.

“You don’t have to go if you don't want to…” You say, your voice unsure at his original silence.

He snaps back to reality, and blinks at you a couple of times, before grinning wide. “I would love to go!” He bellows, causing heads to turn.

You’re used to it by this point, so you grab his hand and lead him up the mountain.

He looks massive in your small cottage. It wasn't just his height. It was his overall frame that made him look so out of place. It wasnt built for a Hashira to live in.

You decided not to comment on it, you didn’t want to hurt his feelings. Besides, a demon slayer needs a frame like that. It was rather intimidating.

You lead him into the kitchen, pulling him away from the shrine dedicated to your parents. He didn’t comment on it, instead bowing low and letting himself be dragged.

You begin to pull out your baking materials, while he stands and watches, occasionally asking if you need any help, to which you deny with a hum.

Finally, once settled you dramatically slam your first on the table, and look up at him with a smile. His eyes follow your fist in a confused, but delighted stare. “I am going to teach you how to bake!” You exclaim, hands thrusting into the air with excitement.

His eyes light up. “Tasty!”

You in turn roll your eyes, the smile still plastered on your face. “That's the goal. I hope that you can make your own goods when…you know.”

His eyes soften, and his voice drops. “I leave?”

“Yeah.”

He walks over to you, and he uses his hand to lightly trace the area near your temple, bending down slightly to meet your gaze. “Don't worry about that for now. We've got time.”

Your mind travels back to that question.

Why are you here?

You ignore the recurring thought. It never seems to leave you alone. It wasn’t worth thinking about it. You were here with your idol, and that should be enough for you. Just meeting him should have been enough. You found yourself getting greedy.

You nod into the touch, blushing slightly, when he pulls away with a hum. You never got used to how physically affectionate he was.

He seemed to think nothing of it, constantly brushing his hand against your body. You’ve thought it was an accident at first, when his hands lingered on your hips for a second too long, or when his hands seem to twitch when they graze yours. But when he led you through a crowd with a hand on your back, it made you realize how touchy he must be.

You didn’t mind of course. If he was showing any affection toward you, it had to be a blessing. Demon slayers would kill to talk to a Hashira, nevertheless, be friends with one.

“So where do we begin?” Rengoku prompts, rubbing his hands together as to prepare them for heavy work.

You laugh, cutting your thoughts off, and begin the lesson.

It turns out he is horrible at baking. For all of the talents he was gifted with, the kitchen was not one of them.

He tried, truly he did, his face is covered with flour, and whenever you asked if he needed help, he pretended that he was doing completely fine. It was cute, really.

But, after twenty minutes of struggling to follow your commands, you saw him begin to get frustrated. His brows were pinched as he tried to knead the dough, way too hard than usual. His fingers dug into it, and you heard his noises of annoyance under his breath.

You walk over to him and stand next to him, before reaching over to put your hands on his. “Gently, Kyojuro. Like this.” You murmur, before guiding the both of your hands to knead the dough, gently this time.

His hands are much larger than yours, and you struggled to move them, but he went completely lax under your hands. He lets you lead them into the repetitive motion, while you mumble instructions.

His silence becomes deafening. Rengoku isnt one to stop talking, especially in situations like these.

You glance up at him, to see that he is staring at you. His eyes are opened wide, his mouth curled up in a small content smile. “What?” You muse, automatically removing your hands from his. His smile drops when they leave.

“That's the first time you touched me.”

“What? No, it’s not, I feel like the two of us are always somehow touching one way or another.”

He barks a laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, but I always initiated them. You touched me, Y/N!”

You turn red. “Am I not allowed to?” You say, trying not to let the embarrassment get to you.

“Of course not! Please, feel free to touch me at any time and anywhere!”

“Don’t say it like that!”

“What? I am merely speaking the truth. I enjoy it immensely when you touch me, Y/N!” Your hand covers his mouth before he could get anything else out. He blinks at you, before closing his eyes with a wide smile. Probably grateful you were touching him again.

What he was saying was true. You tried to keep a little bit of space between the two of you. Even if he enjoys physical contact, you didn’t want to catch him on a bad time and have him snap on you. Honestly, you don't want to do something that may make him upset, because the idea you have of him in your mind would be tarnished. You like how you see him now.

“Are you done now?” He nods frantically under your hand. You pull away and he beams at you. It was rare to see him not smiling honestly.

He turns back to the dough, a determined look on his face. “Alright, I believe I can do this! Gently this time!”

You nod and stand close to him as he begins to try to knead the dough.

Too soft. Way too softly. It looked like he was afraid to touch it. You sigh. “Kyojuro, I don't think this is going to work.”

His body snaps over to you, his eyes wide and looking a little panicked. “What’s not going to work?” He splutters.

It was the first time he didn’t look like a Hashira in your eyes. He looked like a regular man, who also have their fears and worries. But you have no idea what he seems to be worried about.

You place a hand on his lower arm and tilt your head to the side in a soft grin. His eyes flicker to it, and his body seems to jolt at the touch. He focuses his stare on you. “You baking. I think you should stick to demon-slaying, hmm?”

“But how am I supposed to eat these delicious goods?”

You pause, using your other finger to tap your chin. “You could visit me from time to time and I can make them for you.”

He stares at you, a small frown on his face. He seems to do this a lot, you’ve taken notice too. The staring. It’s like he goes into a whole different world when he looks at you. Sometimes he would speak on what he was thinking about, others he would change the subject.

It seemed that he felt like talking today. Even if the results shocked you so. “Or you could live with me!” He exclaims so loud you swear you saw your porcelain cups shiver.

You blink at him. He smiles in return, and grabs both of your hands, cupping them in his own. “What?”

“I said, you could live with me!”

You shake your head, eyes flickering to your hands in his hold. “No, I know what you said, but what are you talking about? I can’t just pick up and move in with a guy I just met, simply because you like my danishes.”

His smile falters. “It will be more than just you baking for me, I promise Y/N. Besides, we met four days ago and we seem to get along perfectly! Do you not trust me?”

“Of course I trust you, you are a Hashira after all. The world has to trust you.” He doesn't seem to like this answer. His smile drops completely now, and his eyebrows slightly furrow. You gulp, not wanting him to be upset at you. “I mean–It's just that I can’t leave my brother alone! I have to stay here and watch the house when he is gone!”

He drops your hands, the smile returning. “Of course! The brother. You are so kind, Y/N, really.” His hand lands back on your head, ruffling the lose strands. His voice seems to be just barely strained, and the grip on your head is a tad bit harsher than usual. Not enough to hurt, but enough to notice the difference.

It’s not that you don’t want to go with him. It would be a dream come true to live with a Hashira. But you weren’t dumb. You knew that underneath the kimono and the blade by his side, he is still a man. A strong one at that.

The thought made the image of him in your head start to blur once more. You are getting too close to him, and although it was nice to be his friend, when he leaves you don’t want to think of him any differently.

You focus on the task at hand. You fix your hair quickly, while he laughs gently. You beam back at him. “Well, lets finish teaching you how to bake!”

“Right!”

Tomorrow your task was to pick up necessities from the village next door. Stuff like flour, cloth, string, baking supplies, and maybe, if you made enough this week, a new pair of shoes. You go on these trips once every three weeks. They took about the whole day, as it was about a five-ish mile walk and you needed to visit many different shops.

So, you couldn’t see Rengoku tomorrow. The thought made you a little sad, but the two of you had seen each other for five days in a row. You didn’t want him to get sick of you anyways.

The two of you sat on the bank of the nearest river. Him filling up the containers for you, even when you tried to stop him, reassuring you that you could do it by yourself. He didn’t listen of course.

It’s silent between the two of you, instead listening to the sounds of the river passing by. His leg is touching yours. You don’t know if it’s purposeful or not. “I’m leaving tomorrow,” You hum, trying to start up a conversation.

Silence. Your eyes flicker to him. He stares at the ground, eyes wide, and darting back and forth along the grass, as if trying to process something. His hand grips his kimono. “Where?” He breathes, after a couple more seconds of thick tension.

You try to laugh it off, confused by the mood shift, and his eyes snap toward you. Recently, he has gotten more…serious. It made you even more afraid that he was beginning to not like you. “Where?” He questions again, his voice louder this time.

“To the next village over. Need some supplies. It will only take a day,” You reason, and you swear you could see his body begin to relax.

And suddenly, as if nothing happened, he turns to you with a grin on his face. “Of course! We shall go together!”

You blink at him, the thoughts of him getting sick of you resurfacing. Besides, he had a mission to do, you know he did, whether he told you or not. “I appreciate that, Kyojuro, but I kinda wanna do this alone.”

His grin falls in a heartbeat, and his eyes become wide again. Similar to how he looked yesterday. Panicked. “Are you sick of me?”

“What? No! Of course not. How could I ever get sick of you?”

He huffs, turning toward you. “Then we go together!”

“But,” You continue, causing his smile to drop. “I think it’s a good idea for us to spend some time apart. We’ve only just recently met, and we have spent every day together.”

“That’s true! But we are enjoying it, are we not?”

“Well yeah, but we may not…soon.”

“Why?” He begins to move closer to you. You can almost feel his breath on your skin. The proximity makes you shiver.

“Because…Because I don’t know! That’s just how it works.”

“I will not enjoy spending time with you, Y/N. I hope the same for you.” He says that now, but you don’t believe him truly. It’s human nature for one to need alone time. It was strange that someone like him who works alone most of the time doesn’t understand it.

Your head is scrambling for something else to say, and without meaning to you tell him what you have been wanting to know for so long. “Kyojuro, what are you even doing here?”

He falters at this and your own eyes widen. You didn’t mean for it to come out like that. “I’m sorry–I meant, It’s just…are you on a mission out here?”

He smiles at you, his gaze soft, like you say anything, and still, he wouldn’t be mad at you. “Yes. There is a group of demons near the woods. I’m here to end them!”

His story sounds plausible, but you weren’t stupid, he was a Hashira. This mission should have ended after at most two days. And not only that, you haven’t heard of any people going missing. Was he saving them and taking his time to kill the demons?

Rengoku wouldn’t do that. The flame Hashira would never leave demons walking on this world willingly. He must be planning a strategy to kill them. He must be.

But you’ve heard stories of how his father took down hundreds with little to no trouble. Was Rengoku weaker than you thought?

You couldn’t stand the thought of the glorified picture in your head being damaged.

So, you nod. “Well, you should probably stay here to protect the villagers in case something goes amiss?”

“Don’t you worry, my Y/N! Demons don’t come out in the day! The villagers will be completely fine with my absence. Please let me come along! I will not be a nuisance!”

He seems adamant about him coming, and you didn’t want to be a bother. So, with one last sigh, you nod and give in. Besides, you wouldn’t ever be sick of him, and you couldn’t help but cling to the idea that maybe he wouldn’t be either.

The Hashira accompanied you on your journey the next day, grinning the entire time while carrying your bags.

Two days have passed by. You’ve been with him for six days in a row now, and honestly, you’ve never been better. You were wrong about the idea of getting sick of him. Nothing about him steered you away.

In fact, you believe that you have started to have a crush on the Hashira.

Not that you would ever admit it. It was a ridiculous idea, but you couldn’t help but fall for him. It wasn’t even him being a Hashira that drew you in now, it was his personality. Sure, he would always make you feel safe and protected from harm, but it was the way he smiled at you that made your heart flutter. The way he was always so polite, and treated you with the utmost respect.

You haven’t experienced many people like him, so like a moth to the flame, you began to fantasize about what it would be like to be with him.

But, it was naive of you. He was bound to leave soon. A group of demons has ought to be killed soon. If not, his master would surely call upon him soon.

You were growing too attached to him. It was weird to think about how you would have to start doing everything alone again. How silent everything is going to be again.

If you went with him, what would life be like for you?

You throw the thought out. You couldn’t leave your brother alone, he’s all you had left. The two of you needed each other to survive.

“I feel jealous of whoever you are thinking about, Y/N,” Rengoku calls from behind his shoulder, as he helps you put away some dishes. He turns to you with a smile on his face.

You laugh lightly, beginning to get used to his teasing. “Aw, too bad you’ll never know.”

He sets the dish down and begins walking over to you, with a small smirk and raised eyebrow. You don’t move. He approaches you, much too closely as usual, and you try to refrain from blushing. “What?”

“And if I make you tell me?” He questions, eyes staring deeply into yours.

“Hmmm, how?”

His smile widens at your tone. “I have some ideas!”

You laugh at this and jab a finger into his chest. “You, my Hashira, wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

He blinks at you. “You know just what to say to make a man blush!” He exclaims, the familiar loudness returning. It was true, his face seemed to have a twinge of pink.

It took you a second to understand. You didn’t mean it like that. The “my Hashira” was only supposed to tease him in turn. It made you fume from embarrassment. You begin to scramble to explain yourself, but he places his large hand on your head again.

His voice goes softer. “But my flame, that isn’t true. Please don’t doubt me. I wouldn’t hesitate to end someone if anyone hurts you. It’s my job to protect you.”

The seriousness in his voice makes you uneasy. “A demon right? Not a human?” You question, sounding way more nervous than you should be. The way he said it made you really think about how strong he truly is. Without a second thought, he could kill you or anyone if he wanted to.

This thought confused you. Rengoku would never hurt you, nor any human, why does the thought seem to leave a chill down your spine? How are you having these thoughts, when not even a minute ago you were thinking about potentially leaving with him?

He stares at you, the smile not leaving his face. “Exactly,” He says, and then removes his hand from your head, to turn back to the dishes. He was always booming with confidence, why did he sound so doubtful?

Why are you questioning a Hashira’s morals?

You have to get your mind off the subject. It was making things complicated and you were allowing paranoia to get the best of you.

You creep up next to him, grabbing the clay cup from his hands, and away. “Kyojuro, do you remember the time I showed you how to bake?”

He turns to you with a wide smile, eyes lighting up. “Of course! They were delicious!” Well, yours were. His didn’t turn out as well. You gave up on teaching him how to bake correctly, and he didn’t seem to mind at all.

“Well, you must pay a price for my knowledge,” You hum, turning your back towards him to hide your smile.

“Not to worry, I will pay for all the ingredients!”

You roll your eyes at the offering. “A different price. I did you a service, now you have to do me one.”

Footsteps approach you rapidly, and suddenly his chest is against your back. You jump at the feeling and crane your head to look up at him.

Two bright eyes stare down at you, blinking owlishly. His hands fall to your shoulder, and his smile is different this time. It seems more like a smirk, rather than a grin. But still, you could tell that the man was practically gleaming. “What type of service, Y/N?”

His low voice startles you, and you flush at the noise. As on instinct you jump away from his hold and turn toward him. “Not that type of service!” You scramble out, trying and failing to keep your cool.

He laughs at this, and you clench your fists in embarrassment. “I apologize, I was teasing you, Y/N!” When you don’t respond, he continues, tone lighter than before. “I am at your beck and call, what do you need from me?”

“I would like for you to teach me some basic self-defense mechanisms.”

His eyes sharpen in an instant, the laugh in his voice gone. “Why? I will protect you.”

You frown at him, not expecting this reaction. “When you leave, Kyo.”

“You don’t need to protect yourself, I said this earlier. I will not let anything touch you. It’s my duty.”

“When you leave,” You repeat when he doesn’t get the memo. He’s acting like he could protect you even when is gone for his next mission.

His eyebrows furrow and his voice comes out flat. “Do you want me to leave?”

It feels like an accusation.

“What? No, but its inevitable.”

He grabs onto your hands and holds them tightly. It feels more than a regular friendship hold, it seemed desperate, but you were too engrossed in the situation to even think about that. “It doesn’t have to be that way.”

You try to pull away, but he holds them in place. Your voice goes softer, almost as if you were soothing a small child. “I can’t go with you, Kyojuro and you know that. My brother needs me.”

His smile drops in an instant and his face turns cold. “Fine. I’ll teach you. Let’s go outside.” The swordsman says cooly, dropping your hands and beginning to walk toward the door of your house.

Regret fills your veins. You have never seen him upset at you, and you have no understanding of what you did was wrong. He should know that the two of you living together was strange. Unless he was asking for marriage? But that doesn’t seem right, he hasn’t made any romantic moves on you and he would need your brother’s blessing to even be considered.

Or was it asking him to train you that made him upset? But that also didn’t make any sense. Wouldnt he want you to be more protected? Learning basic self-defense is something that everyone should know, and could possibly save your life.

He was so confusing. In one second he’s smiling at you with stars in his eyes, and in the next, he seems to be a completely different person.

Who was he, really?

You scramble toward the door.

He stands in front of you, back facing you. His figure stands tall, and his hair gently falls on the top of his shoulder. Even from far away, he oozes with power.

You tip-toe your way over to him, gulping when his eyes flash to you the second your feet land on the pathway. You smile awkwardly at him, and he in return nods his head with a huff. He turns around to face you. The two of you stand in front of one another in silence.

You begin to apologize, the strange mood was not something you intended, but he cuts you off. “To begin, take out the knife in your pocket.”

You flinch, staring at him in shock. You never told him about the knife you store in case of emergencies. It’s hidden beneath enough fabric that nobody could feel it on you even if they patted you down.

He watches you begin to scramble for an explanation and laughs. The powerful noise throws his head back, with the return of the smile. Another strange shift in his personality. But you don’t mind it at the moment. The cold shoulder he gave you worried you. The laugh makes you feel more at ease immediately, almost forgetting completely about the knife.

“I saw a glimpse of it when you reached for the top shelf!”

A simple explanation. Obviously, it had to be, you were being dramatic, Rengoku would never do anything weird. So, you just nod at him and reach into the cloth to pull out the steel blade.

It was nothing fancy, but your father gifted it to you when you were younger, so you treasured it deeply.

“Great job, Y/N! Now attack me,” He beams, stepping a couple of feet away to give you running room.

You blink at him, trying to ignore the borderline embarrassing encouragement. He said it like you actually did something great. “What?”

“You heard me! Attack me! Pretend I am the thief from a couple of days back!” You do what he says without much hesitation. You asked to be trained, and he knows exactly how to do it. Besides, he was a trained swordsman it’s not like you were going to actually land a blow on him.

You charge at him and swing the knife up toward his shoulder. As expected, he dodged immediately. He now stands behind you. “Again!”

You shift your feet toward him, clenching your teeth as you take another strike, this time aiming for his neck. Like before, he seems to disappear. An arm grabs onto your wrist. He quickly moves your hand positioning on the blade, huffing when satisfied. “That was great Y/N!”

You nod your head, ready for some pointers or any sort of criticism. But Rengoku just stands a couple feet away, and waits for another attack. You grip the knife, and try a different strategy, instead aiming for his feet. It’s useless, he jumps away. “Creative!”

You huff from the exertion and glare at him. Frustrated at the lack of advice, you speak up. “You are supposed to be teaching me.”

He flashes you a grin. “I am!”

“No, you’re not. Your toying with me. How am I supposed to get any better?”

“I actually think you are great at self-defense! And with me around you will never be in danger. I think its time to head inside for the night!”

When he turns to walk away, you jump in front of him, clutching the base of the knife. “Kyo, this is training for when you are gone.”

His eyes flicker to the blade, and for a moment, his voice is flat. “If you want to continue, keep swinging at me.” You obey his command and try to slam your arm into his shoulder. He continues, voice now expressing more of his emotions, “Why do you keep bringing that up? We will deal with that later!”

You scan the area for where he landed after the dodge. “Your mission is bound to end soon. I know how these things work, my father told me about it. You will leave and it will be soon.”

With a swipe to his collarbone, he jumps back behind you, and you feel his hand caress your neck. You shiver at the soft touch of his calloused fingers. His breath is right next to your ear. “Are you forcing me away?”

You clench your teeth at this and try to turn to him, but he has already moved. “Why do you keep saying these things?”

“Because it sounds like you want me to leave. Is that it, Y/N? You’re sick of me already?”

Another swing, you're so worked up that you don’t even care where to aim at.

“No! My god Kyojuro, you are acting so strange!” In an instant, you feel the blade come in contact with flesh and you freeze. Your heartbeat picks up, eyes wide, as you stare at the Hashira.

Blood drips from his hand and feel yourself pale. Your pulse picks up when the Hashira eyes for the first time during this training leave yours. He hisses out in pain and you watch his eyes widen at the wound.

“Oh. Ow.”

You immediately rush over to him to make sure he was alright. You grip his hand, mind trying to grasp anything your brother has taught you. You half drag him to your cottage, dropping the knife midway. He follows behind you silently, holding his hand up to try to slow the bleeding.

You push him into the nearest chair, and scramble toward the first aid kit your brother left.

When you return, he’s staring at you silently, like he is waiting for some sort of reaction. You pay no mind to it, trying to stay focused on the task at hand.

You kneel down in front of him and he jumps, grabbing onto the chair with the other hand. You glance at him with a raised eyebrow, before grabbing his hand and beginning to clean the wound. “I'm sorry. I should have been paying attention. I didn't mean to.”

“Hmm. It really hurts.” His tone comes out whinier than you have ever heard before and you begin to really panic. He was a demon slayer, he must get hurt all the time, and if this was hurting him, then it must have been a sensitive spot.

When you pour alcohol on the injury, he hisses and you place a hand on his leg to try to comfort him. You feel his gaze on you, as you hold back tears, the guilt tearing ruthlessly at you. “I’m sorry. What can I do to make it up to you?”

A smile begins to resurface and you feel better almost instantly. “No more lessons?!” he says, placing the other hand on your head again.

Why was he so insistent on you not being able to protect yourself? Wouldnt he feel better knowing that you can be safe on your own?

Maybe he has some sort of traumatic past for self-defense that you don’t know about? You don’t know much about him, so that does sound like a reasonable answer.

“Of course! I promise I won't ask again.”

He beams down at you and your heart begins to pound, like it has been the past couple of days. “Great!”

You nod at him, and his eyes flicker to the hand still placed on his leg. You immediately pull away from him, embarrassed, but he grabs it before you can fully remove it. “One more request.”

You try your best not to blush, as he places the hand back on his leg, and begins to rub his thumb over the back of it. His voice softens, and his stare is unwavering. “You have to dote on me. I’m injured, so you can't leave my side until I have healed.”

You blink slowly, but nod your head automatically. It was his dominant hand that was injured, so he may struggle with basic tasks. Plus, you didn't mind not leaving his side. It’s not like the two of you have not been glued to one another since you met. It wouldnt be that big of a change. “Of course! I'll take care of everything. You don’t have to lift a finger. I’m sorry again, Kyojuro.”

He smiles, with a tilt of the head and picks up your hand, giving it a gentle, but affectionate squeeze. “Nonsense! But Y/N, I need you to promise not to leave my side. Do you understand?”

The intensity in his words makes you hesitate. “Until you are healed?”

His words become more frantic, and the grip on your hand tightens. He refuses to look away from you, the bright eyes seeming to peer into you. “Yes. Can you promise me?”

You had no idea why he was so insistent about this right now, but you give in immediately under his stare. “I promise I won't leave your side.”

He stands up, pulling you up effortlessly with him.“Good! Now, don't you think its time for bed!”

You pause for a second, completely forgetting about the fact that he was spending the night. At night he was off slaying demons, or so you assumed, so you never really saw him past sundown. You glance at the hand and sigh, he must have to stop because of you. You ignore the ache in your heart. You already apologized, it was the best you could do.

“Sure. You can sleep on my brother’s cot. He isn’t here.”

He uses your hand to pull your forward, so you had to look directly up at him. You are used to the forwardness, so when you collide with his chest, you don't even question it. “You just promised,” He says with a cocked head.

“But you won’t need any help when you're sleeping!”

He throws his head back in a laugh. “You never know! Besides, I think–” He hisses out and his eyes fall back to the injury. Your own eyes widen and quickly cup the injured hand, worry plastered on your face.

You are quick to reply, not wanting to make it harder for him. “Okay. I'll bring the cot into my room!” You scramble out, before heading into your brother's room and beginning to drag it over.

He starts to walk toward you, as to help you, but he stops midway. He glances at his hand, and then sighs gently, fidgeting as he watches you move the cot by yourself.

Once finished you turn to him with a small smile. “I am going to get ready for bed. I can lend you my brother’s sleep attire?”

“It’s okay! I have clothes under my kimono that I wear to bed.” He says, already peeling himself from the top layer of clothing. You slam the door shut immediately, and you hear the booming laugh from behind the door.

As you head back to wash your face, your mind travels back to the incident. No matter how you think about it, it was strange. He dogged every single one of your attacks without even a hint of a challenge. It was like he wasnt even taking you seriously.

So how did you land a blow? You were just a regular girl and he was a trained Hashira, ready to defend himself at any moment.

Was this on purpose?

But Rengoku wouldn’t do anything sly. He was always kind to you, and a Hashira. Hashira’s don’t trick people, they protect them from people who scheme.

He must have been distracted from the whole self-defense thing. You should really stop doubting his morals.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see a slightly burnt piece of paper on the floor. About the size of a letter.

Immediately, you wander over to it, confused because you haven't received a letter in a while. Plus, you would have read it before and why was it opened?

When you bend down to pick it up, a hand lands on your shoulder. You jump back in shock, to see a shadowed figure.

You know it’s Rengoku, even in the darkness, his figure is very much defined. But the presence still makes you unnerved. Maybe it’s the fact that you can’t see his smiling face in the darkness. “Kyo?”

His voice is flat. “C’mon, Y/N. Let's go to sleep.”

Your eyes flicker toward the paper on the floor. “Sure, one second I just need to–”

“In the morning. Please? I can’t go to sleep if you aren't there.” You feel the brush of the bandages on the back of your neck. It makes you shiver, and remember his injury. You clench your fist for a second, but sigh and turn around.

He was right, it will be there tomorrow, and besides it would be hard to read at this time anyways. “Right.”

As the two of you lay next to one another, his non-wounded hand brushing over your face, you make small talk. The two of you whisper in the dark and laugh over nothing important.

He tells you stories of the demons he slayed, and you unconsciously lean even closer to hear them. He is powerful, and kind, and smart, its overwhelming that someone like him is next to you.

You see a hint of a smile in the darkness. “What are you thinking about?”

“You are so cool Kyojuro.”

His body rumbles with a laugh, quieter than usual since its late and the house is silent. “You praise me too much.”

He leans closer, and the two of you are only a couple of inches apart now. “It’s true. Do you know what I give to be like someone like you?”

The face petting stops for a moment. “I don’t like that idea. It’s too dangerous out there for you. I like the thought of coming home to you, with fresh goods in your hands. Safe and away from any threats”

Your face heats up at the words. He makes it sound so romantic, and to be honest, you don’t mind the idea. But your brother should be home any day now. “I can’t live with you. You know this.”

He hums at you. “What if I told you I have fallen for you?” He murmurs, his voice low and soft. His calloused fingers return to tracing your face.

Your heartbeat picks up, and he must have noticed, because he chuckles lightly. “You like me?” You say, eyes wide, wishing desperately to see his face better in this moment.

“Is that outlandish?”

You look away, instead focusing on the shadows of your fingers. “Well…I don’t know. I’m just surprised.”

“I thought my intentions were clear. Please forgive me, if I confused you.”

It made sense that he was pursuing you. All the stares and the adoring touches. You just didn’t want to think of the possibility of someone as amazing as him liking you. Didn’t want to think of the fact the two of you won’t work out. “No, you didn't, it's fine. I actually like you too…But you are leaving.”

“Come with me. Live with me. I will treat you well. We can be happy together.”

At this point, the two of you were going in circles. You have had this conversation multiple times, and still, he doesn’t seem adamant about giving up. “I won’t leave my brother alone.”

He rolls himself on top of you, most likely annoyed that you weren’t looking at him anymore. He rests his body on his forearm, and his hair brushes your face. His voice is in a hoarse whisper. “You are too kind, Y/N. Think about yourself for once.”

You try your best to ignore the position. His body seems to engulf your own, and it makes you feel unreasonably small, but you’re unwilling to back down. “You know I can't do that. You know what it is like to have a sibling.”

His eyes become wider, and more desperate looking. You can’t meet his stare. “What if he was gone? You would come with me, right?”

Your head snaps back to him, and you look at him in shock. “Why would you say something like that?” You seem to hiss out.

At your tone, he becomes meeker, as if he was hiding into himself. He rubs his forehead against yours, with a hint of a whine in his throat. “Do you even like me?”

You immediately regret what you said, and instead begin to grow concerned. You have never seen him sound so upset before. “I do. I promise I do!”

His head falls into your neck, and his body begins to tremble. “You're causing me so much pain, my flame,” he whines and you begin to internally freak out.

Rengoku was never one to get his emotions involved. He was always upbeat with you, and the fact that he was so hurt over this must mean something big to him.

You place your hand on the back of his head, to try to get him to calm down. He was your idol, and now crush, you didn’t want to see him hurt, but you love your brother.

“If my brother found somewhere to live and be happy with, I would go with you. But he isn’t looking for a wife currently. So, I can't. I would love to, but I can't. I’m sorry, Kyo.”

In a heartbeat, his mood switches. He pulls his head out of your neck and begins grinning from above you. He rubs his nose onto yours, and you on instinct scrunch it up in surprise. “You want to. That's all I need. You want to live with me. Thank you. Thank you, so much!”

He rolls the two of you over so now the both of you are on your cot, with your head on his chest. You smile lightly at him, glad whatever you said finally made him calm down.

His non-dominant hand rests on the back of your head, and you blush, finally taking in a new position. His body expels warmth, and you find comfort in it.

Savorying the last amount of time you have with him to the fullest. It’s getting harder to ignore the ache in your chest whenever you think about him leaving.

Slumber begins to take a hold of you, and you listen to the rhythmic sound of the man’s heartbeat.

A couple of minutes go by, and you hear a whisper near your ear. “My flame?”

You hum and try to hold back a smile. “I like the nickname.”

He chuckles, and your body shakes from the force of it. “Me too. But Y/N, make sure you come back to me. Always. Do you understand?”

You yawn, in your half-sleep state, but mumble out a, “Okay.”

He sighs, and he continues to pet your hair affectionately. “Good. Goodnight. Sleep well, Y/N. Tomorrow is going to be an eventful day.”

But you couldnt hear his warning. You had already fallen asleep the second after you agreed to his strange request.

You are awoken at 2:50 AM the next day by frantic whispers and aggressive shaking to your body. You blink a couple of times and flinch at the harsh light in your face.

Your pupils begin to constrict to the light, and your eyes scan the figure in front of you. Your brother was shaking you awake, with panicked eyes and a lantern in his hands. “What are you doing here? You were supposed to leave!”

He drags you from the cot, and you stumble forward. Your mind finally begins to awake, and you regain consciousness of the situation at hand. “Brother? What’s happening? Are you okay?”

He grabs your hand and pulls you through the small house, scrambling through cupboards looking for something. When he pulls out your father’s sword, you gulp.

He heads back over to you and begins to drag you away. “Didn’t you get the letter? You are supposed to be heading east by now!”

“What’s happening?” You reason again, voice louder and more panicked. He turns to you, and you jump at his appearance, finally able to see him clearly. His hair is a mess, he’s slightly trembling, and he looks like he hasn’t slept in days.

He grabs onto your both shoulders, and his voice coming out frantic. “A demon. Or maybe multiple. I got messages that people have been disappearing from towns, and some of their….remains have been scattered around villages. It’s traveling from village to village, and yesterday it hit the town where we get our goods. Five innocents are gone and our village should be next. Tonight.”

You stare at him, eyes wide in shock. “Why are you here? You shouldn't have come!”

“I was going to grab fathers sword. We need some sort of protection while we wait until the demon slayer’s corpse comes.” He doesn’t know how to use it, he's a healer, and neither do you, but it was better than nothing. Especially if the two of you were without a home until everything clears up.

“Grab your knife. Everything going to be okay. Just trust me. Everything is going to be fine,” He mumbles, seemingly trying to comfort himself more than you. He begins to drag you toward the door and you begin to reach in your pocket for your father’s knife.

It wasnt there. You lost it when you cut Rengoku.

Your eyes widen when you finally realize his disappearance. You turn around and quickly scan the room before your brother pulls you completely outside.

“Kyo-” A hand covers your mouth immediately.

Your brother looks at you in pure fear, and you feel your own bubbling up at his gaze. “Quiet. We have to be as silent as we can. It could be near,” He whispers at you, and you nod from behind his hand.

Your eyes dart around the area for the demon slayer. But he is nowhere to be found. He’s probably out looking for it by now.

But he’s injured. Is it really okay for him to be fighting in his state?

Your brother removes his hand from your mouth and begins to drag you forward, a sword in one hand and your hand in the other. You gulp and follow him in the darkness.

A couple of minutes go by and the two of you haven’t said a word. The both of you had heard eerie noises, and you swear you heard a woman’s scream far off in the distance.

Your mind flashes back to all of the villagers you have gotten close to. It was better not to think about it. Rengoku should be there soon.

The two of you took the path into the woods. It was not the normal path to take when heading eastward, but it was safer. You both knew the woods well, and the chances are the demon is raiding the village. That’s what they have targeted the last couple of days at least.

Suddenly, you hear a growl to the right of you guys. Your brother freezes, and you run into the back of him. Your heartbeat picks up, and the hair on your neck rises. Your brother is trembling in front of you.

You turn to noise to see three bright yellow eyes staring at the two of you. A deathly aura creeps on the two of you, and it’s pin-drop silent.

Your brother grabs you by the shoulders and pushes you forward yelling out, “Run!”

As on instinct, you turn back to him to pull him with you, but he’s gone. As if he vanished into thin air. The eyes disappeared as well.

A mass amount of dread and fear weighs on top of you, as you begin frantically scanning the woods. Your heartbeat is pounding in your chest and you’re shaking out of your wits. “Brother? Brother, where are you!”

Tears begin to form in your waterline, and you begin running, searching desperately for any trace of him. In the back of your mind you know your not going to be able to do anything, but it doesn’t stop you from trying.

You wish Rengoku was here. He would be able to find your brother in a heartbeat, but he was most likely in the village. Where the demon should have been. But it doesn’t stop you from calling his name desperately for help.

Which is exactly how you attracted your very own demon. Your brother told you to be quiet, and you should have listened better. Fear made you naive.

It was standing in front of you, its eyes seemingly pinning you down. It was smiling at you, showing off its razor-sharp teeth, and you take a step back. You were trembling, alone, and defenseless against the demon.

“What’s a young girl like you doing out here alone?” The voice was high in pitch and shrill. A step toward you.

You don't respond, eyes darting around for an exit, while the demon continues to laugh and move forward, closer toward you.

You turn around and run. You dont have many choices in this situation and you rather take a chance than be a sitting duck.

It didn’t work, but you knew it wouldn’t. The demon grabs at your leg and pulls you back toward him. You fall forward onto the ground and hiss at the feeling of rock digging into your skin. You are being pulled backward, and the clawed hand on your ankle makes you shiver.

“I think I will take my time with you,” The being coos, licking a stripe up the back of your leg.

Tears stream down your cheek as try to kick it off, to no avail. It’s going to tear your limps apart and eat you. Your brother is not going to be saved, and your family line is going to end.

With your last plea, you begin to scream. Loud enough to most likely alert every living being in the forest. Even the demon hisses out in annoyance.

Suddenly, there is a flash of orange and red. A flame.

You hear the plop of a sliced head a second later, and the slicing sound of the demon’s arm being physically removed from your leg. You cringe at the sound, but relief immediately floods your veins.

You turn your head to the side to see Rengoku, slightly frowning in concentration while he sheathes his sword. When he catches your eye, he smiles, and the comforting action makes the tears continue to flow.

He's holding you in an instant, crouched on one knee while wrapping his arms around your figure. His eyes are wide with slight panic, and his grip on you is tight. In any other situations, it may have been overbearing, but you craved the warmth.

His voice is hoarse and seemed to have a waver in it. “I was so scared, my flame when I couldn't find you. I thought you really left me. Or something worse had happened to you. The thought makes me feel ill. Tell me, why were you in the woods? You weren't supposed to be in the woods!”

You take a couple of deep breaths to calm yourself down, while he runs his hands up and down your body as if reassuring himself that you are actually there. “We were trying to–” You freeze, eyes widening and immediately squirming in his grasp. “My brother. We have to find my brother! A demon has him!”

His hold on you doesn’t let go, and your movement is futile. He stares into the distance as if almost entranced by something. He doesn’t say anything for a long second, but when he does, his voice seems to be in a whisper. “Does it now?”

You don’t pay attention to the tone, too distracted by the thought of your brother being on the verge of death. “Yes! So we have to go. Kyo, we don't have time!”

He hums, and the grip on you loosens, allowing you to stand up, and away from him. He stands in front of you, calm and composed while staring at you. You, on the other hand, are scanning the woods frantically trying to figure out where the demon is and failing miserably.

“Let’s go this way,” You say with uncertainty, pointing to the direction where you had last seen him. When you take a step forward, a hand grips your wrist, and you make eye contact with his owl-like eyes.

“You will stay. I will find him for you. It’s too dangerous for you.” The statement is unwavering as if it was a command to you, with no room for question.

“But-”

“Don't be afraid, my flame. I will place you in a tree, safe and hidden from harm.” He didn’t understand that you did not care for your own safety, it was your brother that you were concentrated with.

You turn to him with pleading eyes. The idea of you sitting here while your brother could be getting murdered, makes you feel sick. You need to be there for him the second Rengoku saves him. “Please, I won't get in the way! I can help, please just don’t leave me behind.”

His eyes widen at the statement, and he grips onto your shoulders with both hands. “I would never leave you behind. Never in a thousand years. But I am not the type of person to put the one I care about in danger. You will sit on a branch until I grab you. Safe from harm.”

He scoops you up with ease, and you jump with slight surprise. Then, he walks over to the nearest tree. “Please?” You plead for the last time, and he smiles at you.

“Everything will be fine, my love. After tonight, everything will be perfect. Just let me do this.” He murmurs and you sigh, and allow him to do whatever must be done.

He walks up to the nearest tree and eyes it, before making a small huffing sound. Then he holds you in one arm and jumps. Way higher than a normal man would be able to you, and your eyes widen in shock.

He grabs onto a branch and pulls the two of you up, while you continue to stare at the fact that he is doing this effortlessly with one hand. He sets you down onto the branch, with your back leaning on the trunk for support.

You glance down and gulp. It was way higher than you expected, but Rengoku didn’t seem to notice it. He is balanced on the branch with ease and instead is focused solely on you. “You will be okay, do not fret. If anything goes amiss, shout for me and I will come running.”

You nod your head and he smiles softly. He begins to turn around but pauses when you grip his kimono. “You will save him right?”

He blinks at you and sightly frowns. “Everything will be alright.”

You believed him.

You were an idiot. An idiot for believing him. An idiot for jumping out of the tree in the first place.

Not long after Rengoku left you, you heard your brothers scream.

You acted on pure instinct. You moved within a second, trying to climb down the tree. The Hashira made it seem easier than it was to maneuver on the tree. You slipped and fell.

You hissed when you landed on the floor. Very much close to breaking your legs, but you got lucky. You stand up and try to ignore the pain shooting up your spine. Then, you turn toward where you heard the noise.

It was during your sprint you realized you made a mistake. What were you going to do against a demon? How are you going to help your brother? He was the one medically trained, not you. Aren’t you just going to make things worse? You could be killed too.

But you were too deep in it now. Tree trunks turn into a blur as you continue to run, your legs throbbing with every step.

You notice a figure and stop immediately. When you catch your breath and notice who it is, you cover your mouth. Your father’s sword lays next to the curled-up body. There was so much blood, he was barely recognizable.

But you couldn't keep your eyes trained on your loved one. Crouching above him was a demon, chewing.

Nausea hits you like a train and you’re forced to take a step back. You dont have it in you to scream for help. Would Rengoku even get here in time?

Where is he? What was he doing all this time? He told you everything is going to be fine, why is your brother laying in a pool of his own blood?

You continue to stare, the fear making you immobile. You take in the demon. It was strange, nothing like the one you had last saw. It was trembling before the body, as if afraid of something. It’s letting out disgusting wavering whines and cries, between each bite.

Your thoughts are cut short.

A shiver runs up your spine, and you freeze. You see the hair on your arms begin to raise, and your breath catches. Your eyes flicker back to the body, and the demon hasn’t moved.

A nail as sharp as a dagger, trails its way up your arm, and you begin to tremble. You feel the power the demon emits, and it is different from the one before.

You shouldn't have moved. You shouldn't have left the tree.

You hear the horrific noise before you can feel it. Your eyes flicker to the space right above your hip, to see the long fingernail peering out. Through you. And in an instant, you hear the squelching noise, and the finger is gone.

Like a dog lapping a bone, you hear the demon lick its finger clean and shiver.

You hear frantic, nervous mumbles behind you. “Just a taste is fine. It’s alright if I have just a taste. I didn’t kill her, just wanted to try it…” The being that made your skin crawl, sounded absolutely petrified. You didn’t know of what, and you didn’t want to find out.

But, you didn’t have time to ponder. Your kimono is turning a deep red, and you feel the blood beginning to drip down to your legs. You fall to your knees with wide eyes, not knowing what to do. If you don’t wrap it, you are sure to bleed out within minutes.

The demon behind you panics, frantically telling himself that you aren’t going to die and everything is fine. But you’ve tuned it out.

You look up toward your brother again and freeze. Just a couple feet to the right of the two figures was a man leaning against a tree. The fiery hair that you could pinpoint in a crowd makes him recognizable in less than a second.

Rengoku was watching your brother get devoured with a blank stare.

The loss of blood had to make you see things. Or maybe it was the fear. Something had to be wrong with you. He would never do such a thing.

You clutch at your side with your hand. “Kyo?” You mumble, and his head snaps toward you, somehow hearing the call. He removes himself from the tree in an instant, and he stares at you with wide frantic eyes. You’ve never seen him look so petrified.

In a blink of the eyes, and a flash of a flame you hear the demon behind you getting beheaded. “She isn’t dead! You promised! I was–” Another slicing sound and silence.

He’s by your side in the next second. He’s tearing off his kimono in an instant. “What are you doing here? Y/N, you're not supposed to be here! Fuck, the bleeding.” He’s tearing apart the cloth with his teeth, and wrapping it around your torso. You don't notice the shaking of his hands.

You feel dizzy and weak, from the mix of the bleeding out and all the other beatings you sustained. You can’t focus on his words, you are staring at your brother.

You miss the panic of his words. The way he trembles in front of you. “It's going to be okay. Don’t worry, I will take care of everything. It'll be okay.”

The demon has scrambled off, and it was just his mutilated body left behind and the sword. Tears well up in your eyes, and your brother’s now lifeless eyes stare into yours.

You point to him and Rengoku follows your finger. Your words are soft, broken. “Help him. Please.”

But he ignores you. You're being lifted again, the callused hand putting a decent amount of pressure on the wound. He leads you back to your house, while your left staring at the body left in the grass.

You're exhausted, you can't fight him. For the last time, you plead, “Help him.” before closing your eyes and slumping against his body.

“It's going to be alright, my flame. I won't let anything happen to you. I will protect you now.”

493 notes · View notes

muiitoloko · 2 months

Note

Hey really loving your Alan Rickman characters fics btw!!

I’m not sure if you take requests but could you write how Eli ended up getting with the reader the first time from your fic ‘wrong’ ?

Title: New Pet

Summary: Eli is determined to make you his new pet

Pairing: Eli Michaelson ( Nobel Son) × Fem! Reader

Warnings: Adult reader, teacher-student relationship, seduction, obsession, manipulation and obscenity.

Author's Notes: Thank you for your request! 🥰 And yes, I am accepting requests. I hope this pleases you.

Sequel here

As Eli sat in the lecture hall, his gaze fixated on you, he couldn't help but feel a surge of irritation mingled with desire. You, the student who seemed so disinterested in the class, yet exuded an air of effortless intelligence that drew him in like a moth to a flame.

You sat at the front of the class, seemingly lost in your own world as you glanced out the window, barely paying attention to the Eli's lecture. Your boredom grated on Eli's nerves, challenging his ego in a way he wasn't accustomed to.

But what irritated Eli even more was your impeccable demeanor. Unlike the other women who sought his attention for better grades or simply to bed a "real man," you remained aloof, untouched by his charm and influence. It was a challenge he couldn't resist, a puzzle he was determined to solve.

So as the days passed, Eli's obsession with you grew, fueled by a mixture of frustration and desire. He watched you from afar, studying your every move, trying to decipher the enigma that was you. Despite his best efforts, you remained a mystery, a tantalizing puzzle that refused to be solved.

And again, Eli's frustration boiled over as he watched you once again appear distracted during his lecture. He couldn't contain his anger any longer and decided to single you out.

"Eyes on me, missy!" Eli snapped, his voice dripping with irritation. "What's so fascinating outside that window that you can't even bother to pay attention in my class?"

You turned your gaze towards him, unperturbed by his outburst. "I apologize, Professor Michaelson," you replied calmly. "I was simply lost in thought for a moment."

Eli scoffed, his ego wounded by your nonchalant response. "Lost in thought? More like lost in your own world, completely oblivious to the valuable knowledge I'm imparting here."

He strode over to the whiteboard, pointing to a complex chemistry question written in bold letters. "Since you seem so preoccupied, perhaps you'd like to enlighten us all with the answer to this question."

The rest of the class remained silent, intimidated by Eli's sharp tone. But you remained composed, a hint of amusement dancing in your eyes as you surveyed the question.

You got up, and Eli handed you the whiteboard pen. He sat back on the table while you did the calculations for the Chemistry question. He crossed his arms and watched, not resisting taking a few discreet glances at your ass.

"Alright, let's see what you've got," Eli said, his voice laced with a hint of skepticism.

You began to solve the problem with ease, your hand moving swiftly across the whiteboard as you tackled each step with precision. And as Eli watched you a devious thought crossed his mind. He couldn't deny the attraction he felt towards you, and seeing you stand at the whiteboard, solving equations flawlessly, only fueled his desire further. 'Maybe I should have you answer more questions on the whiteboard,' he thought to himself, his gaze lingering on your figure. 'If that's what your ass looks like, I wouldn't mind having you up there all day.'

As you reached the final step, Eli leaned in slightly, unable to resist the urge to get a closer look at your work. "Not bad," he muttered under his breath, a begrudging admiration in his tone.

You finished the calculation flawlessly, presenting the answer with a confident smile. "There you go, Professor Michaelson," you said, turning to face him. "I hope that meets your expectations."

Suppressing a smirk, Eli instructed you to return to your seat, his tone laced with authority. "Very well done, the answer is correct, but let's not get too ahead of ourselves," he said, his eyes flickering with a hint of mischief. "Back to your table, please."

You obeyed and as you went back to your seat, Josh Parker, one of your classmates, broke into applauded for his correct answer, his admiration evident. You flashed him a grateful smile, appreciating his support as the other students followed suit. However, before the applause could escalate, Eli intervened, cutting it off with a stern look.

"One last thing," Eli addressed the class, his tone commanding. "While Miss [Your Last Name] may have provided a correct answer, let this be a reminder to everyone to pay attention in class. Understanding the material is crucial, even if you manage to solve a problem."

With that, Eli instructed the students to copy down the solution from the whiteboard, and they complied obediently. As the class ended, Josh approached you, offering praise and assistance. "That was amazing!" he exclaimed, his admiration evident. "You're a genius, [Your First Name]."

You chuckled modestly, thanking Josh for his kind words as he offered to carry your books. "You're too kind, Josh," you replied graciously, accepting his offer. "And thanks for the applause earlier. It means a lot."

As the two of you walked out of the classroom together, engaged in friendly banter, you couldn't help but appreciate Josh's genuine kindness. Despite his popularity as a basketball player, he always treated you with respect and kindness, a rare gem in the competitive world of university life

Josh commented that you had your next class together today, and you agreed, acknowledging that your university schedules aligned quite closely, allowing you to attend almost all the classes together. In fact, it was in the literature class that you and Josh first met.

You reminisced about the time when the teacher assigned a paper in pairs, and she randomly chose you and Josh to work together. Initially, Josh, being the typical popular guy, was reluctant to participate, brushing off the assignment with his usual charm. However, you managed to convince him by promising to help him with Chemistry, knowing his struggles with Professor Michaelson's class.

Not that it was difficult to see, of course. Professor Michaelson always made it clear whenever Josh stumbled over a question, often mocking him in front of the whole class. But with your encouragement and assistance, Josh softened up about it, and the two of you became friends. You continued to help him with Chemistry, and with each passing day, he improved in those subjects.

As you and Josh continued your conversation, enjoying each other's company, you were suddenly interrupted by Josh's basketball friends, who grabbed you in a playful manner and greeted Josh with enthusiastic high-fives.

"Hey, Josh! What's up, man?" one of them exclaimed, flashing you a friendly grin. "Who's this lovely lady you're chatting up?"

Josh chuckled, exchanging jokes and banter with his friends as they playfully teased him about being smitten with you. "Guys, come on, give it a rest," Josh protested, feigning exasperation. "She's just a friend, okay?"

But his friends weren't convinced, continuing to tease him relentlessly as they engaged in playful banter. "Oh, come on, Josh! We can see the way you look at her," one of them teased, winking at you. "When are you gonna confess your undying love, huh?"

Josh's cheeks flushed slightly at their teasing, but he shook his head adamantly, denying any romantic interest in you. "I told you guys, she's just a friend," he insisted, trying to change the subject. "Besides, we've got class to attend, remember?"

You watched the exchange with amusement, grateful for Josh's efforts to defend your friendship. But you also sensed a hint of strange in his denial, a flicker of something more beneath his playful facade.

As the teasing continued, Josh jokingly pushed his friends away, eager to end the conversation. "Alright, alright, enough already," he laughed, nudging you with his elbow. "I'll see you guys later. [Your Name] and I have places to be."

You and Josh continued to Math class, the playful banter with his friends fading into the background as you walked together down the hallway. Josh apologized for his friends' teasing, but you waved it off with a smile, assuring him that it was no big deal.

"It's okay, Josh. I know they were just joking around," you said, your voice warm with understanding. "Besides, it's kind of nice to see you have such close friends."

Josh grinned appreciatively, grateful for your easygoing nature. "Thanks, [Your Name]. You're pretty cool about it," he replied, his tone sincere. "And hey, they mean well, even if they can be a bit... enthusiastic sometimes."

As you and Josh entered the Math classroom, you found seats together near the front, settling in comfortably as you waited for the teacher to arrive. The classroom buzzed with conversation as students chatted and exchanged notes, the atmosphere relaxed and familiar.

Josh leaned in closer, his voice low as he spoke to you. "So, [Your Name], do you have any plans for the weekend?" he asked, his eyes sparkling with curiosity.

You shook your head, a small smile playing on your lips. "Not really, just the usual studying and maybe catching up on some Netflix," you replied casually. "What about you?"

Josh shrugged, his expression thoughtful. "Same here, I guess. Maybe I'll hit the gym or hang out with some friends," he said, his tone casual. "But honestly, I'm kind of looking forward to just chilling out for a bit."

As the teacher entered the classroom, signaling the start of the lesson, you and Josh turned your attention to the front, ready to tackle the day's material together.

Meanwhile, Eli was in his private office, fucking a student against his desk between class breaks. Taking the woman from behind, he closed his eyes, remembering you answering the question on the board, wearing those jeans that hugged you perfectly, your beautiful ass on display. Eli had made up his mind. He was going to have you, oh yes, no matter what he had to do. He was going to have you against this table of his, taste you.

With a primal growl, Eli intensified his thrusts, his mind consumed by thoughts of you. He imagined your soft moans and gasps, your body writhing beneath him as he took you with a hunger born of obsession.

As the woman beneath him cried out in pleasure, Eli's thoughts drifted back to you, his desire fueled by the memory of your intelligence and beauty. He knew he couldn't resist the temptation any longer. He had to have you, to possess you completely.

With a surge of determination, Eli quickened his pace, his movements becoming more urgent as he chased the elusive satisfaction he knew only you could provide. He imagined your body pressed against his, your skin flushed with desire as he claimed you as his own.

As he reached the peak of his pleasure, Eli's mind was filled with visions of you, your name a mantra on his lips as he surrendered to the ecstasy of the moment. He knew that nothing could satisfy him like you could, and he was willing to do whatever it took to make you his.

With a final, shuddering release, Eli collapsed against the desk, his body spent but his desire burning brighter than ever. He knew that his obsession with you would consume him, but he didn't care. All that mattered was the intoxicating allure of your presence, drawing him ever closer to the edge of madness.

As the days passed, Eli's obsession with you only grew stronger, consuming his thoughts and fueling his desire to be near you. He couldn't shake the image of you solving the chemistry problem flawlessly, your intelligence and beauty a potent combination that left him longing for more.

Unable to resist the temptation any longer, Eli concocted a plan to be alone with you, to seduce you and make you his own. He convinced the dean to open a student assistant position, citing the need for extra help in his classes. It was a lie, of course, but Eli didn't care. All that mattered was having you within his reach.

With the position approved, Eli announced the opportunity to the class, extolling the advantages and requirements of the role. He made sure to emphasize the perks of working closely with him, his voice dripping with charm and persuasion.

"As my student assistant, you'll have the opportunity to gain valuable experience and insight into the world of academia," Eli declared, his eyes flickering with excitement. "Not to mention the chance to work closely with me, learning from of one the best in the field, the winner of the prestigious Nobel Prize."

He listed off the requirements for the position, making it clear that only the most dedicated and capable students would be considered. But deep down, Eli knew that there was only one candidate he truly desired.

"Aspiring candidates can sign up at the end of class," Eli announced, his heart racing with anticipation. "I look forward to working with one of you lucky individuals."

As the end of the class approached, Eli couldn't contain his excitement, his gaze fixed on you as you packed your things. He pretended to be engrossed in some paperwork, but his attention was solely focused on you.

Eli's other conquests, his "pets" as he liked to call them mentally, signed up, eager to spend more time with him, but they weren't what Eli wanted, he waited impatiently while you packed your things in your bag. Josh, as always, waited for you, asking if you were going to sign up as a student assistant.

"Hey, [Your Name], you gonna sign up for Eli's assistant position?" Josh inquired, his tone hopeful as he leaned against the desk next to yours.

You paused, considering his question carefully. "I'm not sure, Josh," you replied honestly, a hint of uncertainty in your voice. "I already have a lot on my plate with my other classes and extracurricular activities."

Josh nodded understandingly, his expression sympathetic. "Yeah, I get that," he said, his tone supportive. "But hey, if I were even half as smart as you in Chemistry, I'd jump at the chance. Think about it, you'd get to work closely with a Nobel Prize winner: Eli Michaelson, as we are reminded every fucking day, in every minute of this fucking class! It'd look great on your resume."

Despite yourself, you couldn't help but laugh at Josh's dramatic proclamation, the tension of the moment easing slightly. "Thanks, Josh," you said, a smile playing on your lips. "I'll definitely think about it."

As you glanced around the room, you noticed several students eagerly signing their names on the registration paper for the assistant position. They chatted excitedly amongst themselves, eager to impress Eli and secure their spot as his assistant.

Meanwhile, Eli tried to act indifferent, pretending to be engrossed in some paperwork as he waited for you to sign up. He knew that he had opened this position just for you, and it would suck if you didn't sign up.

You bit your lip thoughtfully as you walked down with Josh from the auditorium. His words echoed in your mind, and despite your initial reluctance, you couldn't shake the idea of working closely with Eli. After all, it would be an invaluable opportunity to gain insight into the world of academia and enhance your resume.

"Hey, Josh," you began, your voice hesitant as you glanced at him. "You know what? You're right. I think I will sign up for assistant position."

Josh's eyes lit up with excitement, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Really? That's awesome, [Your Name]!" he exclaimed, clapping you on the back. "I knew you'd come around. Trust me, you won't regret it."

As you and Josh made your way back to the front of the class, you couldn't help but feel a sense of unease gnawing at the back of your mind. Something about Eli's demeanor had always rubbed you the wrong way, his arrogance and ego grating on your nerves.

But as you watched the other students eagerly sign their names on the registration paper, their excitement palpable, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy. If they were willing to overlook Eli's flaws for the chance to work closely with him, then maybe you should too.

With a sigh, you waited for everyone to finish and sign their name too, your heart pounding in your chest as you approached the registration paper. You glanced over at Eli, who watched you with a predatory gleam in his eyes, his lips curling into a satisfied smirk.

As you picked up the pen, you couldn't shake the feeling that you were selling your soul, but the allure of the opportunity was too strong to resist. With a shaky hand, you wrote down your name on the list, sealing your fate with Michaelson.

Eli's smirk widened into a grin as he watched you sign up, his satisfaction evident. He had always known that you were the one he wanted, and now, you had willingly placed yourself in his grasp.

As you finished writing your name, Eli's thoughts turned to Josh, who had convinced you to sign up, as he could hear. Despite his initial disdain for Parker, Eli couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude towards him. After all, Josh had unwittingly played right into Eli's hands, giving him exactly what he wanted.

'Thanks, Parker,' Eli thought to himself, a chuckle escaping his lips as he traced your name on the list. 'You just gave me what I want.'

With a sense of triumph, Eli picked up the sign-up list, his mind already racing with plans for the future. Maybe he would improve Parker's grade one of these days, as a token of his appreciation. After all, it was the least he could do for someone who had unwittingly helped him achieve his goals. Eli chuckles to himself as he walked away.

He waited for two days, relishing in the anticipation of revealing his chosen assistant. He made a show of carefully considering each candidate, pretending to weigh their merits and qualifications. But in reality, his decision had been made long before, the moment you signed your name on the registration paper.

Finally, the day arrived for Eli to announce his assistant. He stood at the front of the class, his gaze sweeping over the eager faces of his students. With a flourish, he revealed your name as the chosen one, his voice filled with pride and satisfaction.

"And the lucky individual who will be working closely with me as my assistant is..." Eli paused for dramatic effect, savoring the moment before uttering your name. "Miss [Your Last Name]!"

A few people applauded, congratulating you on your selection as Eli's assistant. You nodded and smiled at your colleagues, although you were happy with the achievement, you still felt deep down that signing up was a mistake, but you ruled it out, maybe Michaelson wasn't so bad.

As the excitement died down, Eli addressed you directly, his tone warm and inviting. "Congratulations, Miss [Your Last Name]. I'm confident that you'll excel in your new role as my assistant," he said, his voice oozing with charm.

He asked you to stay after class to discuss the details of your new position, his eyes lingering on you with a mixture of admiration and desire. You agreed, eager to learn more about your responsibilities and what was expected of you.

And the for weeks, you found yourself spending countless hours in Eli's office, assisting him with various tasks and projects. You helped him correct papers, activities, and tests, and worked closely with him to develop lesson plans. Every Monday to Wednesday, after all the classes, you would join him in his office, sometimes staying up late into the night to finish your work.

Despite the long hours and demanding workload, you enjoyed your time with Eli, his intellect and passion for his work were infectious. You began to admire his dedication to his students and his commitment to excellence, beginning to see that, although he didn't show it, he truly cared about whether or not his students were learning the material, and because of that you couldn't help but feel proud that You were chosen as his assistant, even though he's still an arrogant bastard.

But as the weeks passed, Eli's subtle attempts at seduction became more apparent. He would linger too long with a touch, stand too close when speaking to you, and shower you with praise and compliments. He tried to get you to open up to him, to let your guard down and see him as more than just a Professor and colleague.

However, despite his best efforts, you remained resolute in your boundaries. You appreciated his guidance and support, but you were not willing to compromise your principles for his desires. As attractive as he was, with those big, sturdy hands, that you may or may not have imagined what it would be like to have them touch you, caress you, trace patterns on your skin.... you pushed those thoughts away as you once again corrected the tests with Eli, late at night, in his office, trying to focus on the task at hand But a shiver ran down your spine when Eli whispered in your ear that you had corrected a wrong test.

"E-excuse me?" You stammered, your heart racing as Eli's body brushed against yours.

Eli smiled to himself, his voice low and enticing. "You marked question seven as incorrect, but the student in question answered correctly, the compound is actually Benzene."

You tried not to stutter as you realized your mistake, Eli's presence overwhelming you. His proximity, combined with the scent of his cologne, made it difficult to focus.

"I-I'm sorry," you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

But before you could continue, Eli interrupted with a kiss on your neck, sending a jolt of electricity coursing through your veins. You tensed up, goosebumps rising on your skin as his lips grazed your sensitive flesh.

"Wh-what are you doing?" You gasped, you stood up and turned to him, shocked by his boldness.

But Eli silenced you with another kiss, this time capturing your lips in a heated embrace. Your initial instinct was to resist, to push him away and maintain your professionalism. But as his lips moved against yours with a passion you couldn't deny, you found yourself kissing him back, surrendering to the undeniable chemistry between you.

His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened. All rational thought flew out the window as you lost yourself in the moment, the boundaries between mentor and mentee blurred by desire.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and flushed, Eli's gaze bore into yours with intensity. "I couldn't resist any longer," he confessed, his voice husky with desire. "I've wanted you since the moment I laid eyes on you."

You searched his eyes for any sign of regret or hesitation, but all you found was a hunger mirrored in your own. Despite the moral implications and the potential consequences, you couldn't deny the undeniable pull you felt towards Michaelson.

And as Eli's hand trailed down your thigh, sending shivers down your spine, you tried to resist, telling him that it was wrong. "Doctor, this is... this is not right," you protested, your voice trembling with uncertainty.

But Eli brushed off your concerns with a dismissive smirk. "Darling, you're of legal age, and I'm a free man now," he retorted, his tone dripping with arrogance. "And besides, what's a little fun between consenting adults?"

Your heart sank as he mentioned his divorce, you read the news, of his wife and son fleeing with million dollars of his, and you realizing that his marital status was no longer a barrier in that you could use. Panic surged through you as you struggled to find another excuse, but before you could protest further, Eli pinned you against his desk, his hand sliding up your thigh.

You gasped as his touch sent electricity coursing through your veins, the heat between you intensifying with each passing moment. "Please..." you pleaded, your voice barely above a whisper.

But Eli silenced you with another searing kiss, his lips trailing down your neck as he whispered seductively in your ear. "I want you, darling. And I know you want me too," he murmured, his voice like velvet against your skin. "Let go of your inhibitions and give in to desire. It'll be worth it, I promise."

You hesitated, torn between the thrill of temptation and the fear of consequences. But as Eli's lips claimed yours once more, all rational thought melted away, replaced by a primal hunger for the man before you.

You surrendered to him completely, your hands clutching his shirt as he ravished you with his kisses. "Eli..." you gasped, your voice filled with need and desire.

But Eli silenced you with another kiss, his hands exploring every inch of your body with a hunger that matched your own. In that moment of heated passion, you abandoned all pretense of resistance, giving in to the intoxicating allure of forbidden desire.

As the lines between mentor and mentee blurred, you embraced the carnal pleasure that Eli offered, knowing full well the risks and consequences that awaited. But in that fleeting moment of ecstasy, all that mattered was the raw, primal connection between two souls consumed by desire.

As Eli put his hands under your skirt and grabbed the waistband of your panties, you allowed it, continuing to kiss him while Eli discarded your panties around. You felt a thrill shoot through you as his touch ignited a fire within, your desire mounting with each passing moment.

Breaking the kiss, Eli's voice was husky with desire as he whispered, "I want to taste you, darling." Without waiting for a response, he unceremoniously dropped to his knees while you were sitting on his desk with your legs spread.

You watched with bated breath as Eli kissed his way up your legs, his movements deliberate and tantalizing. With your skirt pulled up higher, you exposed yourself to him, feeling a rush of excitement at his hungry gaze.

Eli's words washed over you like a wave of desire as he admired your beauty, his voice low and filled with admiration. "You're more beautiful than I imagined," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. "So sweet and delicious... I've been dreaming of this moment for so long."

You moaned softly as Eli's lips neared your center, anticipation coursing through you like electricity. His praise fueled your arousal, your body quivering with anticipation as he finally reached his destination.

Feeling his warm breath against your sensitive flesh, you couldn't help but shiver with anticipation. "Eli..." you whispered, your voice trembling with desire.

But Eli needed no further encouragement as he delved into his task with eager enthusiasm. His tongue traced patterns on your skin, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you with each tantalizing stroke.

You gasped and arched your back, unable to contain the pleasure that consumed you. "Oh god, Eli..." you moaned, your fingers tangling in his hair as he worked his magic.

Eli's touch was electric, his movements expertly calculated to drive you wild with desire. As he explored every inch of your being with his tongue, you surrendered to the ecstasy of the moment, lost in a whirlwind of sensation and pleasure.

You gasped as Eli's thick fingers joined in exploring, and that made you close your legs for a moment around his head, suffocating him as you came in his mouth, grinding your hips against his mouth unconsciously.

When you finished and realized what you did, you quickly opened your legs and apologized to Eli, being embarrassed, but Eli seemed very pleased and arrogant. "Mmm, don't apologize, darling," he purred, his voice husky with desire. "You taste absolutely divine. I wouldn't mind if I died between your legs, suffocating on your sweetness. It's a good way to go."

You blushed furiously at his bold words, feeling a mix of arousal and embarrassment at his brazenness. "E-Eli, I..." you stuttered, struggling to find the right words.

But Eli simply smirked, his confidence unwavering as he reached for his wallet. "No need to be shy, my dear," he said, his tone laced with arrogance. "I liked it and that's what matters."

He took out a condom from his wallet, insisting on using it despite your protests that you were on birth control. "Safer, better safe than sorry," he declared, his voice leaving no room for argument before letting his pants fall around his ankles.

You watched with fascination as Eli unwrapped the condom, his movements deliberate and enticing. His thick member stood proudly before you, leaving you wondering if you would be able to handle it.

Eli seemed to notice your apprehension and reassured you with a smirk. "Don't worry, baby," he said, his voice dripping with confidence. "You might feel a little uncomfortable at first, but with time, you'll be begging for more."

As he positioned himself between your legs, you couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement mingled with nervousness. "Eli, I..." you started, your voice trembling with anticipation.

But Eli silenced you with a kiss, his lips capturing yours in a heated embrace. "Trust me, darling," he murmured against your skin, his voice like velvet. "I'll take good care of you."

With that, he entered you slowly, his movements controlled and deliberate. You gasped as he filled you completely, a mixture of pleasure and pain washing over you in waves.

As Eli began to move, his pace steady and unhurried, you surrendered to the sensation, lost in the ecstasy of the moment. With each thrust, he pushed you closer to the edge of pleasure, his touch igniting a fire within you that threatened to consume you whole.

You clung to him desperately, your nails digging into his skin as you rode the wave of passion together. "E-Eli," you moaned, your voice a breathless whisper.

But Eli only smiled, his eyes filled with a hunger that matched your own. "Let go, darling," he urged, his voice a seductive whisper. "Feel everything. Surrender to the pleasure."

And surrender you did, lost in a whirlwind of sensation and desire as Eli claimed you as his own. In that moment of raw, primal passion, there was no room for doubt or hesitation, only the intoxicating allure of forbidden desire.

He too lost himself in the sensation, his face contorting in pleasure. “Fuck, you’re tight,” he moaned, his voice husky with desire. "Even better than I imagined."

You whimpered as he pounded into you harder, the desk shaking beneath you as papers and pens scattered to the floor. You clung to him desperately, your nails digging into his skin as he claimed you as his own.

Eli's eyes fixated on your delicious pussy, his hunger palpable as he drove into you with reckless abandon. "You're mine now, darling," he growled, his voice dripping with possessiveness. "And I'm not letting you go."

He grabbed one of your legs, lifting it and placing it on his desk to get a better angle. With each thrust, he hit deeper, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you with each powerful stroke.

You moaned and whimpered, your body writhing beneath him as he claimed you as his own. "Oh, Eli," you gasped, your voice a breathless whisper.

But Eli only smirked, his movements relentless as he drove you closer to the edge of ecstasy. "That's it, baby," he purred, his voice filled with satisfaction. "Let me hear those sweet moans."

You complied, unable to hold back the sounds of pleasure that escaped your lips with each thrust. "Mmm, oh god," you moaned, your voice a symphony of desire.

Eli's hands roamed your body, exploring every inch of your skin as he worshipped you with his touch. "You like that, don't you, baby?" he teased, his voice laced with arrogance.

You nodded eagerly, unable to form coherent words as pleasure consumed you. "Yes, oh yes," you whimpered, your voice a desperate plea.

Eli grinned triumphantly, his ego swelling with each moan of pleasure you uttered. "Good girl," he praised, his voice filled with satisfaction. "Just wait until I'm finished with you. You'll be begging for more."

With that, he redoubled his efforts, pounding into you with even more fervor as the desk shook beneath you. You clung to him desperately, lost in a whirlwind of sensation and desire as he claimed you as his own.

And as you surrendered to the ecstasy of the moment, you couldn't help but wonder how you had ended up in this situation. But in that moment, all that mattered was the intoxicating allure of forbidden desire and the man who had ignited it within you.

Eli kept his eyes fixed on your delicious pussy, with just a single tuft of soft, neatly trimmed hair above your clit that only captivated Eli even more. He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your skin as he savored the sight before him.

But you reached out, grabbing his shirt and pulling him towards lower so that he was practically lying on you. Your hesitation disappeared as you became more confident, emboldened by the overwhelming desire coursing through your veins.

Eli smirked, his ego swelling with pride at the transformation he had sparked within you. He relished in your newfound boldness, reveling in the way you praised him with dirty talk in his ear, calling him a Professor and acknowledging his skill in the bedroom.

"You fuck so well, Professor," you whispered, your voice husky with desire. "I would have never imagined that an arrogant bastard like you could fuck so damn well."

Eli laughed at your words, his confidence unwavering even in the throes of passion. But he couldn't help but issue a warning, his tone laced with a hint of danger.

"Careful, my dear," he purred, his voice low and enticing. "I may be your Professor, but I have a darker side. And once you've tasted it, there's no going back."

You shivered at his words, a thrill coursing through you at the thought of exploring Eli's darker desires. But you pushed aside your fears, eager to dive deeper into the unknown with the man who had ignited your passion.

As Eli continued to ravish you with his kisses and caresses, you found yourself lost in a whirlwind of ecstasy. The boundaries between mentor and mentee blurred as desire consumed you both, driving you to new heights of pleasure.

"Hmm, oh god," you moaned, your voice a breathless whisper as Eli's touch ignited a fire within you. "Fuck, Eli, yes..."

Eli grinned triumphantly, his ego soaring as he reveled in the sounds of pleasure escaping your lips. He took pleasure in pushing you to the edge of ecstasy, his movements deliberate and calculated to drive you wild with desire and it didn't take long for you to climax.

And as you surrendered to the ecstasy of the moment, you couldn't help but wonder what other forbidden pleasures awaited you in Eli's arms.

As Eli reached his climax, his body tensed with pleasure, and he released a guttural groan of satisfaction. "Oh, [Your Name]!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with ecstasy as he spilled into the condom.

He couldn't help but feel a twinge of regret as he watched his cum fill the condom, wishing he could see it running down your thighs instead. But he quickly pushed aside his desires, reminding himself that it was better to be safe than sorry.

As he remained on top of you for a few moments, catching his breath, he felt your hands on his chest under his shirt, the warmth of your touch sending shivers down his spine. "Who would have thought you were such a naughty little slut," he teased, his voice laced with amusement.

But as he pulled out of you and left you unceremoniously on the table, he noticed a change in your demeanor. The light in your eyes had dimmed, replaced by a look of realization and regret.

Eli watched as you hastily put on your discarded panties, your movements frantic as you tried to distance yourself from what had just happened. His heart sank as he realized the impact of his words, the weight of his actions crashing down on you like a tidal wave.

"Oh my god, what have I done?" you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper as you processed the reality of what had just transpired. "Fucking a Professor like a slut?"

Eli tried to call out to you, to apologize for his callousness and reassure you that everything would be alright. But before he could utter a word, you were gone, slamming the door behind you as you fled from his office.

He ran to the door, his heart racing as he hoped to catch a glimpse of you in the hallway. But to his dismay, all he saw was an empty corridor, devoid of any sign of your presence. "Damn Michaelson!" he cursed aloud, frustration boiling over as he slammed the door shut behind him.

Leaning against the door, Eli banged his head against the hard surface, berating himself for his recklessness. "What the fuck..." he muttered, his voice filled with self-loathing. He knew he had risked everything by giving in to his desires, and now he would have to work twice as hard to make amends.

With a heavy sigh, Eli straightened up and composed himself, steeling his resolve to win you back. He knew he couldn't let you slip through his fingers so easily, not when he had invested so much time and effort into seducing you.

But as he glanced around his office, the reality of his situation sank in. He would have to correct the rest of the tests alone, a tedious and time-consuming task that he had been hoping to avoid. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath, frustration bubbling to the surface once again.

Eli sighed as he discarded the condom, he hated correcting tests with a passion, finding it to be a mind-numbingly dull chore. But even as he begrudgingly set to work, he couldn't help but smile arrogantly at the thought of having you exactly where he wanted you.

With each test he corrected, Eli's confidence grew, fueled by the knowledge that he had successfully seduced you once and could do it again. He relished in the power he held over you, the thrill of knowing that you were his to command.

As he worked tirelessly into the night, Eli made a vow to himself. Tomorrow, he would have you again, and this time, he wouldn't let you slip away so easily. Oh yes, you were his new pet now, and he would stop at nothing to make sure you stayed that way.

#eli michaelson x reader #eli michaelson #alan rickman #nobel son #alan rickman x reader #oc

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brabblesblog · 2 months

Text

𝕽𝖊𝖒𝖊𝖒𝖇𝖊𝖗 𝖞𝖊 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖒𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘.

Ch 3: An Empty Throne

A sequel to Whither is thy beloved gone? (AO3)

After the events of ‘Whither is thy beloved gone?’ Lord Astarion Ancuńin and his consort wife navigate their relationship anew. The ghosts of the past - his, hers, and theirs - threaten to unravel everything they’ve worked for.

Ban confronts the Ascendant on his subterfuge.

Now professionally edited by @editing-by-night

Originally beta'd by @leomonae

Read on AO3.

Masterlist

Astarion by @morebird

Ban entered the study in the morning, slamming the contract down in front of him. Astarion sat at his desk, studiously ignoring her.

“So you found them,” she snapped.

She saw a quick flash of crimson as he looked at her, then his eyes returned to the sheaf of paperwork in front of him, the contract sitting accusingly beside it.

“Whatsoever do you mean, Ban?”

He lifted his quill, tapping the nib against the parchment. He couldn’t seem to make sense of the text, eyes running over the words without registering them properly.

“Oh, come off it,” Ban hissed. Liar. “You sought them out, bought that mirror, fucked me in front of it to distract me-“

She seethed at the memory of Astarion spreading her open in front of that immense mirror he’d bought, telling her what, in hindsight, had been an obvious fucking lie:

I didn’t buy this from your family, if that’s what you’re so concerned about.

Astarion shook his head, clearly frustrated. “I commissioned the damned mirror, yes. But I-”

“What? You didn’t know? The shop and I share the last name!” Ban bit out, crossing her arms.

“It was meant to be a surprise,” he grumbled.

“A surprise? Oh, ‘hey love, here’s a mirror I bought from the family you didn’t want to ever see again’! Is that what your plan was?”

“They still don’t know. I just gave them my name, Ban.” Astarion finally put the quill down, looking up at her. “I wanted to have the information on hand, should you ever desire to do anything with it.” His lips draw into a tight line.

He’d been trying to anticipate her moments of withdrawal, but her anger was something he was still never quite prepared to manage.

Ban deflated, the anger morphing into an all-too-familiar resignation she couldn't say she'd missed. He was right, she supposed. She could simply ignore this, and her family would be none the wiser. But she knew she’d want to see them, to find out what had become of them.

“You could have just told me, Astarion, instead of hiding the information away and waiting until I found the contract myself.”

Astarion flapped a hand at her; the fingers trembling a little too much to give the intended effect. “And get this reaction? You can see why I was reluctant, darling.”

Ban scoffed at him. She looked down to the table where the contract sits. The name emblazoned across the top of the parchment looks back, mocking her.

Glasscraft and Son

Astarion watched Ban, noting the tense set of her shoulders. The guilt gnawed at him and he chewed on the inside of his cheek, a fang tearing the skin and drawing blood.

“You could simply discard the information, Ban,” he said, the snark slowly slipping away from his tone. “Now that you have seen it, it’s for you to use as you see fit.”

She drew in a deep breath, patience trickling away with every passing second. “You think it that simple, Astarion? One look, and I can decide whether I want to see them or not? Whether I want to know what happened to them or not? I don’t even know if they’re alive!” The shop, after all, could be run by some other family now.

“I could help with that,” he managed to say, his tone clipped. Uncertainty flooded his features; a look that would be rather unbecoming for the Ascendant, if he’d still let that side of him rule his life.

Ban watched as Astarion finally put the quill and papers away, pushing his seat back to stand. He regarded her for a moment, his eyes obviously doing what he always seemed to do nowadays - searching her, trying to read her. She liked it most of the time, appreciated that he tried, but at the moment it did nothing but intensify her pique.

A small click of his tongue, barely audible to her, and he took a small step forward. Close enough that should she want to, she could close the gap but far enough that she had space to leave. “I met him. I could tell you-”

“Oh!” she sneered, all venom and mock surprise. “I’ll now have to thank you for being so, so kind as to gather information for me, sweet Astarion.”

She saw the barb hit his heart; his pupils widening in a fraction of a second, face falling slack. Astarion looked away, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed heavily. At any other time she thought she’d feel guilty, but the anger roiling through her drowned everything else out. Even the idea that she should feel guilty merely served to enrage her further, driving her next words out without thought.

“Since you want to be so kind, then, my love, tell me: what did you discover?” There wasn’t any reason not to find out, not at this point. She eyed him dispassionately as he shifted uncomfortably under her scrutiny.

“The proprietor is named Roderich Glasscraft,” Astarion said, with forced calmness. “I assume he would be your father.”

The hurt simmering in him had only grown, hidden underneath the now carefully-schooled expression; but even if Ban saw it, she cared little at this moment.

If anything, a not-so-small, irascible part of her wanted to twist the knife even further, the savage desire for petty revenge suffusing her.

“That he is,” Ban nodded. “Still a little bald shit, is he not? And what of my dearest mother?”

Arlette. Mom. Who’d always demanded the respect she thought she was owed, because I birthed you. The memories flowed in, Ban’s lip curling into a snarl in response.

Astarion shifted again. He retreated to settle back into his chair, apparently giving up on his rather futile attempt to offer her comfort. Crossing one leg over the other, he leveled a look at her.

“He mentioned her, but she wasn’t present.” The crossed leg bounced erratically. “There was also talk of your sibling.”

At that, Ban’s anger abated for a moment, a small sigh escaping her. “Yes, my younger brother. The only one in my sorry family whom I actually regret leaving.” She couldn’t help the next question. “How is he?”

Astarion looked uneasy. “Rode-” He ran a hand through his curls, looking exhausted and strung out. “He said your brother hasn’t taken a wife yet.” There was something else at the tip of his tongue, however, and he bit his lip.

“There’s something more, Ban...” A mere hunch, but Astarion had always been good at reading people, a skill honed over two centuries.

“More.” She sneered again. “Just say it then! Why even dither like that? You’ve already done it - don’t act like some sad puppy now. The Vampire Ascendant wouldn’t - I know you’re still in there, prick!”

Astarion recoiled as if slapped; his jaw clenched and his mind reeled, trying to come up with something, anything to placate her. “Love, pl-”

“Shut up!”

She knew she was being unreasonable, cruel, saw that the conversation iwas hurting Astarion more and more, but she found she didn’t care at the moment; there was only indignation, the white-hot mixing of rage and a creeping sense of being violated. She wanted to keep digging in, to see just how much he could take; see if he’d revert to his old ways, and fight fire with fire.

The Ascendant made an appearance, Astarion’s eyes narrowing sharply, his lips contorting into a sneer. He raised an index finger. “I’ll have you know, Ban,” he began, venom lacing every word. But then he paused for the briefest moment. He took a quick breath, and-

…And just like that, the Ascendant was gone. The fight seemed to fizzle out of him as he collected himself. He let his breath out slowly, face rearranging into a neutral, guarded expression, his hands clenched into fists.

“Your father seemed aggrieved by something, whenever he spoke of your brother.” Carefully said, enunciated slowly and without allowing any feelings to show.

“Aggrieved?” Ban laughed, the sound loud and completely without humor. “My father probably disapproved of something trivial he did, like folding clothes in a way that he didn’t find satisfactory.”

“Ban.” Astarion’s eyes locked onto hers. “It wasn’t that. I think-”

“Fuck what you think!” she screamed. “This is what you do, isn’t it? Assume you know better, because - what - you’re the man of the house? Because you can buy anyone?”

He almost lost control at that, lips curling angrily. “I have hurt you, kept you, used you - but I have never bought anyone; you of all people ought to know that.” His chest heaved, jaw working as he attempted to calm down. “And am I not attempting to fix this? Do I not try so hard to atone for my sins?” He sighed, all the fight in him having evaporated at her accusation.

“As wretched as I am, love, I am not that.”

His anger dissolved away - Ban could almost see it leaving his body. His eyes lost their hardness, and he sagged back against the chair. He covered his face with his hands, obviously resigned.

“You have me confused with someone else.”

The tone was quiet, despondent. There was no mistaking the pain.

Ban stared at Astarion for a long moment. He was right - instead of her husband she saw him, a small man by any measure but immeasurably powerful to her back then.

Roderich had never been a physically imposing sort, even as a younger man, but he’d always had an air about him that had made people inclined to respect him.

It was a respect often mercilessly exploited to great success - a ruthless businessman, rising in the ranks of the artisan guild through various machinations and dealings that had pervaded - tainted - Ban’s childhood. He’d passed those lessons along to her in the hopes that she would help her brother take over the business one day, or help her future husband run his own; lessons that had helped her consolidate power at the Ascendant’s behest, in the first months after they’d moved into the palace.

“I don’t have you confused,” she snapped. “You’re not him, but you’re close.” She wasn’t sure if she should elaborate, but did so anyway. “Power-hungry, manipulative, self-centered bastards.”

Astarion lifted his head from his hands to look at her, realizing exactly who Ban saw in him when she shut him out.

She could see him trying to read her again, his eyes darting across her face with their usual thoroughness.

“Exactly why I wished to know about them,” he replied with preternatural composure, hands clasping together on top of the still raised knee. Astarion’s gaze slid away from her as he looked to the side again. “To know them is to know you, and to know you is to know what you require of me.”

“I don’t need your drivel, Astarion.”

She’d had enough, wanted - needed out of this conversation. She didn’t want to let herself acknowledge that he was right, that their relationship would benefit from him knowing exactly what pitfalls to avoid. Didn’t want to acknowledge that she was blaming him for past deeds he was never made aware were painful reminders for her.

“I’m heading out,” Ban continued, when he didn't answer. She grabbed the contract from the table. From the corner of her eye she could see him keeping his eyes fixed upon nothing in particular, avoiding looking at her. He sat stiffly, almost painfully still, chest seemingly not even rising or falling - frozen, as though he was made of marble, except for the erratically bouncing leg.

A small breath escaped him. “Then I’ll see you when you come home,” he said, trying and failing to hide the question in his voice, tone rising at the end of the statement.

Will you come home?

Ban stared at the shop from across the street. It looked like it always had - squat and unpleasant to the eye - but now it also looked worn. The dust on the windows was of particular interest - her father would have never tolerated that back in the day. For a moment she almost started walking; her legs wanted to drag her forwards, through that door, back through memory and to the people she’d sworn she would never see again.

Days spent in the shop, helping out. Logging inventory, deliveries, receipts. She remembered running around the mirrors in the stockroom, delighted to see multiple Bans running alongside her - her only friends, save for her brother, in what little time she had been allowed to be a child.

A few happy years, before her parents decided to begin training her for what they’d said she was meant to be - a businessman’s wife, capable of assisting with the running of his shop as well as being in charge of his household, skilled at all the social niceties needed to help her husband elevate his standing in society - a relatively useful thing, though not her choice, but they were only surface level qualifications to ensure she’d be successful in her real role…

A pawn to be married off. A name on a contract to bind family fortunes together.

She stayed rooted to the spot for a long time.

The moon shone brightly when Ban finally returned to the palace. She walked in to find Astarion lounging on his throne, arms draped over the armrests, his legs spread slightly. The scent of alcohol filled her nose as she approached him; she sighed. That would explain the unbuttoned shirt and the steely, teasing, not-quite-focused gaze that locked onto her.

“You’re drunk,” she said, arms crossing as she came to a halt in front of the dais.

“Slightly inebriated.” He tilted his head at her, expression coy. “I didn’t expect you home so soon.”

In truth, he hadn’t expected her to come home at all. Fingers tapped on the armrests in a rhythmic pattern, and he leaned forward.

“You were asking for the Ascendant,” he crooned, ignoring the lump in his throat. That wasn’t him, not all of him; he knew that now, she’d taught him that. He’s Astarion - always was, is, and will be. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t bring the monster out to play, if that was what she wanted.

Anything she wanted from him, she would receive. Including this.

A look of consternation crossed her face. “That’s not what I meant.” Ascending the dais quickly, she placed herself between his legs; he sighed but shifted them farther apart to accommodate her.

“What did you mean, then?” His gaze hardened and fingers wrapped around her wrist, nails digging in a little tightly. “Isn’t this what you wanted?”

He tugged her abruptly, pulling her down and pressing his lips to hers in a single, well-practiced move. It was rough, his tongue pressing in without much preamble, merely seeking to consume her.

Did she want this? This painful, angry, meaningless sex they used to have? He thought he knew the answer, knew that this was wrong, but the ache of worrying all day at the prospect of losing her again had sharpened his edges significantly.

“Stop,” she gasped against his lips; he immediately stilled, pulling away from her.

Astarion’s bared chest heaved. “Ban, I-”

I’m sorry. Words he’d never learned to utter, and so they got stuck in his throat.

She offered him a sad smile, understanding. “No. I’m sorry. I was, am, still upset, but I should never have lashed out at you like I did. Can we- if you still want this, can we try again?”

“Were you going to leave?” The words came out of him in a desperate rush, spitting them out before he could reconsider.

He said it before he thought, hands gripping the armrests to hide their trembling. His one greatest fear, the one thing he could not endure. He worried it was happening again, that he was bound to lose her again - she was here right now but what if she started slipping away again bit by bit like sand slipping through his fingers like before and he didn’t want to think about it because she won’t leave but what if-

“Please. I need to know,” he choked out, barely managing it around the swirling chaos of his mind. His eyes shut, heart racing, frantic and frightened and trapped inside his ribcage and everything’s too tight-

And then her. He felt strong, muscled arms wrap around him, holding him close. Her scent filled his nostrils and he breathed in deep.

I’ll give you anything you want; just don’t leave, don’t let me be alone again. Never again.

He heard a whimper; he wasn’t even sure if it was him. He heard her shush him, heard her whisper, her breath tickling his sensitive ears.

“I wasn’t leaving, love. I just needed air. I’m never leaving you again. I’m sorry I left without making sure you knew I’d be back.”

The words soothed little of the panic drowning him, but even that felt like a boon. Part of him found this ironic: here he was, in the seat of his power, so utterly powerless against the weight of his feelings for her. Not that he minded. Not that it would ever be any different. Not that anything else ever mattered.

“I…” Another rough intake of breath, and Astarion forced his eyes to open. She was staring at him, arms still around him, eyes full of worry. She’d pulled away from the embrace, but only far enough to see his face.

“Astarion-” Ban began, but he interrupted before she could finish.

“I’m… fine.” he managed to say it, although he knew he wasn’t fooling anyone. He wrapped his hands around Ban’s wrists, gently prying them away from him. He wanted her touch more than anything, but he didn’t deserve it.

Not when he’d lied to her, not when he’d just grabbed her for a kiss he worried she mightn’t have wanted. Not when he was… this.

These vacillating thoughts raced through his mind and he attempted to rise, to push past her and go to ground somewhere - anywhere - else. He didn’t deserve those worried eyes, that kind touch. He never had, what was he thinking, he was a monster, he was never enough.

But before he could stand and escape, Ban’s hand was on his chest, the touch cool yet comforting against his too-hot skin. “Love,” she murmured, and it was softer than he’d ever heard it since the rite; it gave him pause.

“Sit,” she said. “Let me help.”

He was powerless against her, stilling under her touch. Nervous eyes tracked her and he licked his lips, settling back down on his throne. Ban’s hand followed his chest, palm still pressed over his hammering heart.

“May I?” She inclined her head towards his lap and all he could do was nod. Yes, of course, yes. He’d love nothing more than to have her close, to remind himself that he still had her. He watched her lift her skirt and settle over his thigh, her rump a pleasant press of weight on him.

He wrapped one arm around her waist, feeling the cold, smooth skin slide against his fingertips. She was here, she was on his lap - even asked to be there. He didn’t dare feel relieved quite yet, but her mere presence ensured it slowly seeped in regardless. She shivered a little at his touch; his hand paused midway on its path across her back and he waited.

Ban’s hand glided from his chest to his chin, tilting it up so he’d meet her gaze. “Astarion,” she said, her tone still unusually tender. She could tell he needed the gentleness, that he was at the end of his rope, that she had scared him. “I’m sorry. About today. I didn’t think before I said that, or, well. Maybe I did.”

The admission hung in the air, and Ban swallowed.

“You meant to hurt me,” Astarion stated, unsurprised. “It isn’t the first time, nor will it be the last.” He allowed his hand to resume moving, and his fingers curled around her waist, resting around the curve.

I love you. I forgive you. Just don’t go.

“I understand,” he continued, “and will continue to do so. There is nothing to apologize for.”

She shook her head, the hand on his chin falling away to grasp his shoulder, squeezing. “No. That’s not fair. You’ve been putting in so much effort, and while I still resent you for going behind my back and… and even prying in the first place, really… I know what I said was out of line.”

Difficult words for her to utter. She’d never been open, never been outwardly affectionate, but she knew he'd been trusting her with his heart and she had purposefully cut it open.

Astarion let her words sink in, relishing the moment despite himself. A small smile played on his lips, the calm suffusing more and more of him, but nowhere near enough to defeat the lingering fear. “A favor then, love, if you’ll indulge me.”

He took a moment to think it through, then gently linked his free arm with the other, encasing her in an embrace. The smile widened, and his eyes were painfully soft when he spoke.

“Make love to me, will you?” The tone was teasing, the smile playful; the gaze was anything but.

Make me feel loved. I need to be reminded.

If you would like to see more of these two and their story, consider reading my other entries in the series "If I ascend up into heaven, thou art there: if I make my bed in hell, behold, thou art there."

Taglist: @elora-the-slutty-songstress @tragedybunny @spacebarbarianweird @ayselluna @enterthedreams @coltaire @qiific3 @misscrissfemmefatale @vixstarria @eatyourheartoutmylove @linllewellyn @ battisonsgf @micropoe10 @thegoodwitchs-blog @akirahime @velcyrptrr @i-cant-get-into-my-other-account @babblebrain-blog @asterordinary @last-but-not-the-least @artist4theworld @gracemisconduct @decadentcoffeewizard @rootin-tootin-n-kind @pursuitseternal @youngtacobanana @krispeenuggiez @girlygmer-blog @cheezits4lyfe @vinegarjello @the0ldmann @wisteriaofthegraves @girlygmer-blog

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shelbystales · 9 months

Text

Story Time - One Shot

Tommy Shelby x Reader - Masterlist

Word count: 1672

Summary: After a few days being absent in his familly, Tommy arrives late, once again. But to his surprise you and his son are still awake.

Warning: fluff, fluff and more fluff?

A/N: I could EASILY have turned this into a long SMUT, but hey... all my one shots are smut 😂. But if you guys want i can write a part 2.

Oh and please dont forget to comment and interact, tell me what you think! it means a looot to me.

English is my second language so I apologize in advance for the grammar mistakes

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Thomas Shelby trudged wearily through the dimly lit streets of Birmingham, his mind still reeling from the day's events. It had been a long and exhausting day, negotiating business deals, and handling the never-ending challenges that came with running the Peaky Blinders.

The Peaky Blinders' operations had been especially intense lately, and the weight of responsibility rested heavily on his shoulders. All he wanted now was a moment of peace and a good glass of whisky.

As he finally reached his home, a beautiful Victorian house tucked away in a quiet corner of Small Heath, bought especially for you, he let out a sigh of relief.

The familiar sight of his residence offered a small respite from the chaos of the outside world. He pushed open the creaky front door, the familiar scent of his home enveloping him as he stepped inside.

The living room was dimly lit, the fire crackling in the hearth casting a warm glow over the room. Thomas made his way to the worn-out leather couch and sank into it with a grateful sigh.

With a heavy sigh, he poured himself a glass of his favorite drink and took a sip, relishing the familiar burn that washed over him. The warmth of the alcohol began to soothe his frayed nerves, and he allowed himself a rare moment of relaxation.

As he closed his eyes, the sounds of his home enveloped him—the crackling of the fireplace, the ticking of the clock, and the distant creaking of the floorboards. But amidst the background noise, he heard something that brought a small smile to his face, a soft chuckle, unmistakably belonging to his son, Charles.

It was such a joyful and carefree sound that he hadn't heard in a while. He furrowed his brows, wondering why Charlie would be awake at this hour.

Curiosity getting the better of him, Thomas set down his glass and followed the sound. He made his way through the hallway and stopped outside his son's bedroom. The door was slightly ajar, and the flickering light from the hallway revealed a heartwarming scene.

There, on the bed tucked under the covers, was his son Charlie, just three years old, and you, his mother, playing with him. Charlie was giggling uncontrollably as you tickled him, a smile on your face that lit up the room.

Thomas felt a softness in his heart, a tenderness he rarely allowed himself to feel amidst the harsh realities of his world.

"Well, look who it is," you said with a playful grin, noticing Thomas at the door. "Come join the fun, Tommy."

Thomas hesitated for a moment, his mind still clouded with the weight of his responsibilities.

But something about the sight of you and his son together drew him in. He stepped into the room, his eyes locked on the scene before him.

He approached you with his usual confidence, but as he got closer, he found himself momentarily at a loss for words.

You looked up, your eyes meeting his in a moment of unspoken understanding. It was as if you could see the pain and darkness that lay hidden behind his steely exterior.

"Seems like I've walked into a tickle battle. Why are you still awake little one?" he remarked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Aye, you have" you replied, giving him a knowing smile. "Charlie was missing his dad, weren't ya, love?"

The little boy nodded enthusiastically, his eyes shining with adoration as he looked up at his father.

Thomas moved to sit on the edge of the bed, the weariness in his bones momentarily forgotten. He reached out to ruffle Charlie's hair, earning another delighted giggle from the boy.

"I'm sorry, I've been busy all these days" Thomas said, his voice softened by genuine regret. "No need to apologize, Tommy," you said, laying a hand on his. "We know how much you have on your plate."

He sighed, his eyes never leaving the two of you. "It's not an excuse, though. Family should always come first."

"You're right," you said, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. "And you're here now. You can help me put this one to sleep"

“I don’t want to sleep. I want to play with da!” Charlie cried, the crying giving away the little one's tiredness

“How about we play tomorrow, hm?” Tommy asked

“You won’t be here tomorrow,” Charlie spoke in a weeping voice.

You just sat there, with Charlie in your arms. Just watching.

Charlie just missed his dad, but Tommy was needed out there. You could see the pain in Tommy’s eyes, to be an absent parent was not in his plans.

“How about I tell you a story?” Tommy asked “and tomorrow I can take you and your mom out, maybe we can go to that park you like, ey?”

Charlie got agitated in your arms, happy with his dad's promise. But you feared he wouldn’t keep it, again. Making you go silent.

Charlie got out from under the covers and crawled into his father's arms, who received him with a strong hug.

Thomas found himself immersed in the simple joy of being you both, a rare respite from the constant struggles of his life.

“Okay, now lie down" Tommy ordered, pulling the blanket back for Charlie to get inside.

"Lie down here too daddy" charlie called him

Impossible to resist his son’s request, Tommy kicked off his shoes and crawled under the covers, Charlie between the two of you.

"What book are you going to read?" charlie asked

"No books. the story is here" Tommy pointed to his head making Charlie smile “Once upon a time, in the green hills of Birmingham, there lived a magnificent horse named Midnight."

"Like cocoa?" Charlie asked, refering to the brown horse Tommy had bought. Cocoa wasn't his race name, but the one Charlie chose for him.

"No, this was no ordinary horse, my boy. Midnight had a coat as black as the night sky, if you looked close by, you could even se the stars. He was magical and he could run faster than the wind…” Tommy went on telling the story.

As Thomas spun his tale, the room seemed to come alive with his words. He painted vivid pictures of the horse's daring escapades and heroic deeds, capturing his son's imagination with each passing moment.

You watched the scene unfold, your heart swelling with love for the two most important people in your life.

You marveled at how effortlessly Thomas could transport your son to another world with his storytelling, and you couldn't help but feel a renewed sense of admiration for her husband.

As the story reached its end Charlies's eyelids began to droop, his exhaustion finally catching up with him.

Thomas leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to his son's forehead and you gently tucked the covers snugly around him.

Once Charlie was fast asleep, you and Thomas went back to the living room. The fire had died down, so you gave it life again, with a few woods and a single match.

Thomas poured another glass of whisky, and you sat beside him on the couch, streching your legs across his lap.

"I never thought I could have this," Thomas admitted quietly, his gaze fixed on the dancing flames. "A family, a home... it was never part of the plan."

"But here we are," you said, taking his hand in yours. "Life has a way of surprising us, doesn't it?"

"Aye, it does," he murmured, his fingers entwining with yours. "And I wouldn't trade this for anything." he pulled your face gently for a kiss

"Where this is coming from? all this declaration of love for us?" you chuckled lightly "had a hard day?" you asked and he nodded

“Yes" He sighed "you were silent back there” tommy pointed out

“Well, good you noticed. I don't want you promising Charles things you can’t do,” you admitted. “We both know how it’s with you. You can’t stay away from work”

“I have a lot of work to get done, y/n” he said almost in a whisper

“I know. Just, please don’t lie to him. You’re his hero” you asked

“I never plan to” he sighed

“So you're taking him to the park tomorrow?” you asked and he nodded “good. you better, I can’t stand to look at the disappointment at his face again”

“What do you mean again?” he asked frowning

“Oh, come on Tommy. ‘i’ll be home dinner’, ‘i’ll pick you up at school’, ‘i”ll do this or i’ll do that’. you may not remember tiny promises, but he does. Everynight he asks if you are coming home before he sleeps”

“every night?” he asked, sounding defeated

“Yeah, and even though i know the truth i say ‘i don’t know, maybe’”

he went silent

You could see the guilt wash over Tommy's face, and you knew he was grappling with his own emotions. You didn't want to add to his burden, but you also couldn't bear to see Charles disappointed again.

"Tommy, I understand that you have a lot on your plate, i promise i do," you said gently, "but you need to make time for Charles. He's growing up so fast, and he needs his father in his life."

"I know, I know," he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I just... I can't promise to be there all the time. It's not easy, y/n. You know what I do, what I'm involved in."

"I do know, Tommy," you replied softly. "And I know that your work is important, but so is your family. Charles needs you, and so do I. I also miss you. You come home after i am already sleeping and you leave before the sun comes out. I am getting abit tired of this loneliness"

Thomas took a deep breath, his gaze locked with yours. He could see the concern and love in your eyes, and it weighed heavily on his heart. He reached out to cup your cheek tenderly, his thumb caressing your skin.

"I'm sorry, love," he said sincerely "I can't promise you miracles, but i'll try to be home earlier".

You leaned into his touch, savoring the warmth of his hand on your cheek.

He gently kissed you. His lips slowly savoring yours. Tongue gently invading your mouth and sliding on your lips.

“I love you y/n” He said resting his forehead on yours

“I love you too tommy” you smiled

“Let me take care of you now, eh?” he smirked pushing you down to lay on the couch.

“Yes please!” you said smiling in anticipation, making him chuckle as he lifted your nighgown.

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professional-yapper · 3 months

Text

Wordless

Warnings: Aonung taking responsibility for his actions albeit reluctantly, Aonung cannot physically form the word sorry without gagging

It's only when Jake says, "Aonung," in a tight, cold voice that Neteyam realises the chief's son is standing in their doorway, his broad shadow spilling across the floor.

Lo'ak hisses from where he sits in front of Kiri as she redoes a couple of his braids at Neytiri's request, nimble fingers working her usual magic.

The rasp of the cloth against Jake's gun grows louder, almost like a threat as he stares silently at Aonung, awaiting the boy's reason for intruding.

Even Tuk, who has, for some reason, taken a liking to Aonung, turns her little nose up and looks away like she didn't see him.

Neteyam surveys Aonung for a moment, notes the basket tucked under his arm with flax poking out, then huffs, shaking his head and making his braids rattle, turning back to helping Neytiri with dinner, though it isn't for a few hours yet.

"My father has asked that I teach your sons to weave," Aonung announces, but has the good grace to look slightly ashamed of himself as he adjusts his grip on the basket.

"Do you plan to try and kill one of them again afterwards?" Kiri said bitingly, not looking up from her work.

"Hey, babygirl, he's trying to apologise," Jake said firmly, which Neteyam thought was a load of shit, considering Aonung; a) hadn't said sorry or anything of the sort, and b) didn't look apologetic at all. But Jake must've seen something in Aonung's face, because he then barked at Neteyam and Lo'ak to go with Aonung. Something about reconciliation and keeping in the chief's good books.

Neteyam couldn't resist knocking his shoulder against Aonung's as he followed Lo'ak out of the marui, despite Jake calling his name warningly. He pretended not to hear, anyway, as he let Aonung lead him and Lo'ak down to a lower platform of the village, where it was relatively shady, and they could dangle their legs in the water.

Not that Neteyam did. He pulled his knees right up to his chest like a sulking kid, curling his toes into the woven, springy surface beneath. There was something very freeing about being angry. Maybe that's why Lo'ak got angry so much.

Lo'ak wasn't angry now, though. Didn't seem even remotely irritated by the current situation, sitting down on the edge of the platform and kicking at the water, lips curling in a smile as he watched a few fish swim away in fright.

How he wasn't still angry with Aonung was a mystery, Neteyam thought as Aonung knelt and began scooping flax out of the basket in great armfuls, spreading it out on the platform evenly, the ripples on his arms shifting with the movement.

Aonung cleared his throat, deliberately not looking at Neteyam. Good. "Weaving is easy once you get the hang of it," he began, and Neteyam held his breath in anticipation of the biting comment to follow. Even little kids can do it, probably.

But no comment came, and there was simply a brief moment of silence as Lo'ak drew his legs out of the water and turned, mimicking Aonung's position, brushing his fingers against the flax briefly, taking in the foreign texture.

"Flax is durable," Aonung continued, selecting pieces of flax and stripping them in half to make thinner pieces, laying them down flat. "That's why we use it for our homes and the platforms. It's waterproof, and doesn't rot."

Finally, he glanced at Neteyam, and Neteyam scowled back, hugging his knees tighter and dropping his eyes to the flax.

Lo'ak huffed out a little laugh, glancing at Neteyam, stretching an arm out to tug on a few of Neteyam's braids, earning a slap on his hand. "Stop it, skxwang!" Neteyam said warningly.

Aonung ducked his head, hiding a smile, and cleared his throat, redirecting the brothers' attention back to the weaving. "So, you start by lining thin pieces up like this, using something to pin the ends down, like a piece of wood or your leg," he explained, shifting his leg to lay flat across the ends of the flax, holding it down. "Then you just weave more thin pieces from the side, going over and under these pieces." He pats the vertically lying pieces of flax as he weaves the first flax strip through deftly.

Lo'ak looks genuinely interested for once, leaning forward, eyes fixed on Aonung's big, yet surprisingly gentle hands as they work the strips through one by one.

Neteyam stays where he is, but lowers his knees, choosing to cross his legs instead, resting his chin in his hand.

"This is just- one of the simplest types of weaving," Aonung said as the piece began to form beneath his hands, glancing from Lo'ak to Neteyam.

"Let me try," Lo'ak said eagerly, giving Aonung a little push, taking the older, bigger boy's seat.

Neteyam felt his frown deepen. Lo'ak was seriously acting like nothing had happened. Was he mental?!

"Okay, okay," Aonung chuckled, moving aside, smiling a little at Lo'ak as the younger boy took ahold of the flax strips, trying to mimic Aonung's actions. And doing pretty well, Neteyam noticed.

Lo'ak's extra fingers must be a blessing in this situation, Neteyam thought, as his brother employed all of his fingers to tuck the strips through, securely and tightly, as Aonung had.

"That's good," Aonung said, sounding mildly surprised, leaning over Lo'ak's shoulder, squinting at the piece. "That's really good, forest boy."

Lo'ak didn't say anything, didn't even look up from his work, but Neteyam saw a smile flash across his baby brother's face, and his heart warmed, even if his head was telling him Aonung was still a dick. Even if he was apparently trying to make it up to them.

"You want a go?" Aonung offered, looking up at Neteyam.

Neteyam just shook his head. "Maybe another day. I'll just watch for now."

Aonung shrugged and didn't push the matter further, for which Neteyam was grateful, even if he still thought he shouldn't be.

"I'll teach you some other time, then," Aonung said, shrugging again and turning back to Lo'ak.

Neteyam sighed, shifting himself to the edge of the platform so he could dangle his legs in the water, letting the sharp ocean breeze and sigh of the waves blend with the voices of Aonung and Lo'ak, talking quietly behind him, punctuated by the occasional bout of laughter.

He could think now.

If Lo'ak had forgiven Aonung, Neteyam might as well. There was no point in holding a grudge against the chief's son. Nothing good would come of it, even if said son was still probably a massive dick and was only here because his father made him.

But the sincerity of Aonung's actions could be pondered later. For now, Neteyam was content to sit and enjoy the warm weather and the waves lapping against his calves.

@pinknipszz here you go baddie slay queen 🩷👑

Hope you like it! Didn't turn out as well as I was hoping but I did finish this like two minutes before going out 😂

#avatar #avatar x reader #aonung #atwow #avatar 2 #avatar fanfiction #loak #neteyam #aonung avatar #loak avatar #neteyam avatar #jake #neytiri #kiri #tuk

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deliciousangelfestival · 17 days

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In another scenario, if both of them became parents, Bucky would be the one who was excited about everything and allowed their kids to do whatever they wanted. While Y/N shook her head and said, "Oh no, oh no."

Angel, I have an idea based on this 👆👆👆

The story set the same AU with The Gentleman 2024 or not, since I still don't know if Y/N ended up with Eddie or Bucky.

BUT....

If Bucky and Y/N have ended up together, in my brain they have three kids together.

And their kids are mischievous like their dad. Y/N is angry and want to give their kids a punishment. She turned to Bucky and said "Bucky, this is your turn to back me up."

Instead, Bucky said "Eh? What they did is pretty chill compared to what I did when I was a teenager." Their kids laugh when they heard that, while Y/N have another headache "Oh no."

Omooo... This is such a cute story, bestie.

It's not just you. Even for me, I still don't know what to decide Y/N ended with Duke Eddie or Mob! Bucky 😭 Should I make a poll?

Back to the story, the scenario is if Y/N ends up with Bucky and their children.

Mischief Makers

Characters: Mob!Bucky x Female!Reader

"I can't believe all three of you ended up in detention?" You were shocked when the school principal called you.

Your eldest daughter crossed her arms; when she did this, she looked just like her father. "I can't help it that they don't understand my fanfiction. I wrote 3,000 words, a lot more than my classmates who only wrote 1,000 words."

"Oh yeah? The story about post-apocalyptic zombies, and you insert yourself as the main character, and half of the story is about romance with the hero?" You retorted. You knew your eldest was creative, but still, bringing it to school? Not the right place.

"Hey, stories like this made a box office."

You sighed heavily, then turned to your son, the second child. "And you, do you really have to say to your teacher that he has smelly armpits in front of the class?"

Your son replied, "Everyone knows that this teacher has bad body odor. He was standing near my table. I've been holding my breath for 15 minutes!!! I couldn't stand it anymore. That's why I said that, so he would move."

"Ugh, my head." You massaged your temples.

Then, you addressed the last person, your youngest daughter. "And you, what did you do?"

Your youngest child laughed, showing no guilt. "I drew monkey butts on the board. Haha."

"Hahahaha." Finally, the other adult joined the conversation. It was your husband, Bucky.

You glared at him. "Bucky. You're supposed to back me up."

As always, Bucky would never be mad at his children. He said, "Eh? What they did is pretty chill compared to what I did when I was a teenager."

"Hihihi." Their kids giggled when they heard that, while you felt another headache coming on. "Oh no."

The kids thought they could get away with it since their father didn't give them a warning. So it was your turn, as always, to be the strict parent. "No Wi-Fi for a month for the three of you. I will change the password today."

"NO!!" Then all three of them turned to Bucky. "Dad..."

Bucky raised both of his arms. "I'm sorry, kids. Listen to your mother. And none of you have apologized yet."

"We're sorry."

Bucky nodded. "Good. Go back to your room and reflect on what you did."

The three kids lowered their heads and went back to their rooms with low spirits.

You were still angry until you felt a hand wrap around your waist. Bucky hugged you from behind and rested his head on your right shoulder, his way of trying to calm you down.

"This is all because of you. You spoiled them too much," you said.

Bucky chuckled. "Let them be mischievous for a while. I was the same too."

"Yes, it's because of me that you changed."

"That's right, my dear." Bucky kissed your cheek.

Extra Story:

If Y/N ended up with Eddie Horniman, their three kids wouldn't make any trouble. Instead, their kids became role model students at their school.

#mob!bucky #bucky x you #the gentlemen 2024 #eddie horniman x you #bucky x y/n #james bucky buchanan barnes #buckybarnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky fandom #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes #theo james #sebastian stan fluff #bucky fluff

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leggerefiore · 6 months

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Hey, I saw that your requests are open so I wanted to ask how Maxie, Archie, Cyrus and maybe some other characters of your choice would be like as dads, if you want to write about that ^^;

anon don't let me make more pokemen dilfs.

uhhh took this as a /reader thing since that's how my blog is.

cw: afab reader, light mentions of pregnancy and birth, mostly focused on villains being dads, mentions of termination for a second in cyrus's part,

characters: Maxie, Archie, Cyrus, Volo

☀️Maxie🌋

🪨 When you first told the Magma Leader the news, he had nearly fainted. He was certain he had been careful, but his mind instantly drew a few times such a thing could have occurred. Maxie actually needs to be supported by how limp his limbs go. Truly, he did not know how to handle the idea he was going to be a father. For some reason, his brain recalled the child who had opposed his team as he debated his next move. Being a dad did not sound awful to him. He just was completely unsure as to what to do.

🪨 Somehow, he managed to get over his immediate hesitations and considered the positives. The redhead was not getting any younger, after all. He had felt a strange uncle-like care for the child who had stopped him. It was not so bad having a child to look out for, he thought. Plus, he had beaten Archie in something again. He soon found himself pouring countless hours into guides and information related to parenthood and fatherhood. Being well-informed was the first step he felt.

🪨 He had his ups and downs throughout the pregnancy before finally having a full-on breakdown during labour. His practised stern expression gone with his sanity. They had to give him a bag for his frantic breathing, and he had to be removed from the room. He would later apologise for his behaviour, but it was all too surreal for him. But, in the end, he stares in wonder at the newborn. The small boy's weight in his arms was so light, yet so heavy. Tufts of red hair decorated his head as Maxie took in another shaky breath.

🪨 It was a struggle actually adjusting to parenthood. Reading was one thing, a screaming baby at one in the morning was another. Still, he powered through it all. There was something enchanting to watch as the baby grew more and more aware. His son seemed to grow an affinity for grabbing at his hair or trying to take his glasses while making interesting coos and gurgles at him. He was not sure just what kind of person they would grow into, but he was determined to help try to raise them into a person who would be mindful of the environment and kind.

🪨 As they grew, Maxie found himself seeing too much of himself in his son. They could be just as stubborn and unyielding as he was, while being oddly fascinated with geology as he was. He even had to stop his son from eating dirt at one point, which stirred unfortunate youthful memories out of the Magma Leader. Despite how they would butt heads, Maxie felt strangely in tune with him. He loved letting his son read his reports and explaining the different meanings held within.

🪨 He felt especially cocky when he introduced Archie to his boy, smirking at how the pirate seemingly was lost as to how the redhead actually reproduced. Before he could rub his life achievement in his face, Archie knelt down and ruffled the boy's head with a friendly grin. He bit his tongue. The Aqua Leader congratulated his counterpart genuinely and told the boy to keep an eye out for his old man. All Maxie could do was grumble in return.

🪨 He tries to be fair, but he knows boundaries are important and healthy for children. The effects of being too permissive with children often led to the creation of troublesome people, after all. Though he does not want his son to feel rejected and like Maxie does not care for him, he makes sure to have actual discussions with his son about why and how with things. He does feel like his child has a good understanding of these things in the end but feels like he accidentally imposed many of his mannerisms onto his son.

🪨 Team Magma ends up talking about the so-named mini Maxie frequently. The obvious resemblance between their leader and his son is just so fascinating. Even Courtney wishes to coo over an almost perfect clone of her leader. Tabitha just nervously laughs whenever the boy follows his dad in to watch the Magma scientists work. He is very well accepted, no matter his age. Grunts even nervously act as properly as they do when their leader strolls in.

🪨 Overall, Maxie ends up as a slightly overbearing parent who tries to understand his kid and have them understand him back. He goes from being nervous about parenthood to being deeply grateful for the change. His son brought an odd new purpose into his life after everything that had happened with Groudon. He truly enjoys every moment spent with his family.

🌧Archie🌊

💧 When you told Archie about the news, he scooped you up like you weighed nothing and spun you around excitedly. The Aqua Leader had been feeling like something was missing from his life, and he feels like you just answered it. There is no hesitation or doubt from the man — No, this must be his destiny. The little scamp that had been his odd rival while he tried to awaken Kyogre made him realise how nice being a dad could be. He instantly begins to ramble off assorted ideas and plans while you can only stare at him.

💧 Honestly, he probably had been unconsciously trying for a child. Archie thought back on his own youth with both happy and confused feelings. Having a kid could be really difficult, he realised. Shelly came in to save him by gifting him a bunch of parenting books and reminding him that it was a genuinely serious change in his life. He suddenly felt more grounded, for lack of a better word, in his thoughts. Plus, he had beaten Maxie in something! Not that he really thought his rival wanted a kid, though.

💧 He does simply everything for you during your pregnancy. Archie proves just how dedicated he can be to a goal with his attentiveness to you. Even during the birth, he stood at your side with a bright grin and endless support. Though, internally, he would admit he was panicking just a bit. This was still a dangerous process, even if he treated the doctors and whatever else. Though, when everything calmed down and a small infant was laid in your arms, his heart just felt full. A little girl was now the newest and most important member of his crew.

💧 His adjustment to life with a baby is something amazing. It seemed he really took all the advice in those books to heart, as he just accepted his sleep schedule was going to be ruined until the poor girl found a schedule. Archie did not mind, simply happy to see more and more of the little thing. He even found a good nickname for her when she held a small death grip on his beard. His little Clamperl. She was quite fond of laughing and giggling, too, which made his heart feel even warmer. However, sadly, everyone around him stuck down him wanting to try infant swimming classes.

💧 As she grew, Archie was a bit amazed about how she seemed to be just like him. A strong affinity for water and loving to just be around people. Both of them could just spend all day on the beach and in the water playing around, making Archie think back to his own youth. He had loved the ocean then as much as he loved it now and is glad to pass his love on to his daughter. The Aqua Leader adored teaching her all about marine life and the many creatures that lurked in the waiting waves. She seemed to absorb the information like a sponge.

💧 He felt smug when Maxie saw him and his daughter in Slateport. The redhead stood stunned at the little girl holding his rival's hand tightly. The Magma Leader approached with careful steps. The girl just beamed up at him. Maxie actually smiled back at her. He shot a glance at Archie. He carefully listened to the little girl excitedly telling him about the Chinchou she saw. The Aqua Leader's feelings changed. Maxie almost seemed proud of him. Before Maxie departed, he congratulated Archie and told the girl to keep her dad in line. She just grinned up at him.

💧 He is a bit too lenient with his daughter, he knows. The girl simply deserves everything he feels, and he struggles to tell her no. Of course, he does know the importance of setting up boundaries for kids so they do not get all out of control. Though, he absolutely struggles with punishments, sadly. His softness, thankfully, is not taken advantage of because his daughter is just as oddly good-natured as he is.

💧 His team is just eager to have his daughter around. She loves playing around with the grunts, even when it ends with her horribly beating them in a pokemon battle. Everyone just sees her like another Archie, almost. She is just less likely to give out orders. Shelly simply adores the girl and loves dressing her up or just hanging out with her while Archie is too busy to be with her. Matt, on the other hand, is overly protective over her. The poor guy is terrified that his bro's daughter is in danger because of how small she is. Granted, she is very safe because the entirety of Team Aqua would hunt whoever hurt her down.

💧 In the end, he is quite excited to be a father and eager to do everything he possibly can for his child. He struggles a bit when it comes to pushing back on her and is probably too permissive for it to be good, but his example of bring redeeming himself from his past actions and genuinely caring for pokemon and the sea sets a good example for her. She quickly adopts many of his interests in protecting the environment, and he feels certain that his change of heart after Kyogre was all for good with that.

🌌Cyrus🛰

☄️ When you told Cyrus of the news, he froze. His entire world seemingly paused, and the only thing he could hear was the sound of his heart racing. Father… Him? No, he could not. What a terrifying thought. His own childhood creeping up his back as he debated how to most kindly ask for a possible termination. Your immediate refusal shook him even more. Losing you was not something that he believed he could bear in this world, so sickeningly consumed by spirit. Could you not just wait for his perfect world to start a family?

☄️ He relents after his initial panic. Your joy is apparent with how you speak to the unborn child and loving place a hand over where they should be. Was twenty-seven an appropriate age to start a family? He supposed there was little time to consider. Immediately, he found himself drowning in guides upon guides upon books and informational videos until he felt somewhat confident in what being a parent entailed. He absolutely dreaded every coming minute of it, but he refused to make that apparent to his future child. Cyrus would not dare even imitate his parents.

☄️ Amazingly, he managed to stay by your side during the stages of labour. While he almost constantly wanted to leave the room, horrified but what he could only blame on spirit, he remained and forced his feelings down to support you and advocate when you were unable to. You seemed grateful for his unfaltering support in the end, smiling as you held the infant girl in your arms. Cyrus felt amazed by her very existence. Soft blue tufts were on her head, while her face seemed frozen in a familiar expression. You called her a mini Cyrus. He could only feel awestruck.

☄️ He struggled immensely in the shift after bringing her home. Thankfully, it was less due to the constant awakenings (as his insomnia made that easy enough to deal with) but more so how she simply existed in his space. Her cries broke his heart, making him fear he was already falling into the ways of his parents. Yet, he found that she was straightforward to comfort, simply craving to be held and softly spoken to. Her eyes, the same colour as his, adoringly stared up at him, and he suddenly felt warm inside.

☄️ Her growing up was both a relief and torment to him. She proved herself just as reclusive as he could be and not interested in any other kids for the most part. Cyrus felt strange seeing his daughter hidden in her room and burying herself in whatever hobby she had decided to indulge in. It was like staring into a mirror that reflected one's younger days. He found himself being someone she could talk to about her hobbies, happy to listen at any time. Cyrus felt even more stunned whenever she followed him to his office and watched how he worked on his machines. It slowly turned into him explaining everything to her and her wishing to help him.

☄️ He flinched at how Cynthia caught him out at the Veilstone department store with his daughter one day. The champion stared in silence at them for a moment before falling into her unusual polite grin and waving at the small girl. Cyrus knew that the blonde would not do anything to her yet still felt strangely nervous about how she had gazed at him specifically. The babbled quietly to Cynthia about her interests, and she could only smile more at the girl. When the woman finally left, her final glance back at him spoke too many words. “You accepted this world, didn't you?” Had he? Cyrus forced those thoughts away.

☄️ He, truthfully, is quite soft as a parent. What he has been through has made him terrified of ever inflicting such pain onto a child. Cyrus is much too weak when it comes to his daughter and folds into himself for what she asks for. He strangely finds her already perfect. In fact, he dared to even say her spirit was somehow complete. He does make sure she understands social norms and boundaries, still, but she seems to come to understand on her own all the same. The only downside is that he struggles to be affectionate with her, only allowing himself the rare hug and mostly relying on petting her head.

☄️ Team Galactic is oddly obsessed with their boss's mysterious child. How she just showed up one day after Cyrus took an unexpected few weeks off. They all found themselves engaged in watching how she mimicked her father unknowingly. Mars and Jupiter love playing with the little girl, seeing a need for a more feminine touch in her life and finding her fun to dress up. While Saturn seemingly finds himself on babysitting duty whenever Cyrus gets busy. He secretly enjoys these moments and shows her games on his computer. The grunts are constantly getting jumpscared by her accidental glare.

☄️ Overall, he struggles quite a bit with his own childhood, but desperately does not want his beloved child to ever go through what he had. Cyrus leans probably strict in some ways, yet extremely permissive and passive in other ways. At first, the idea of parenthood nearly makes him ill, but he somehow moves past it into deeply enjoying the connection he has with his daughter. While he still has not accepted this painfully incomplete world, he feels his daughter is leading him to another possible answer to his inquiries and wishes to see what she thinks when she is at an age to understand. Perhaps he would even dare let her make the new world herself.

💫Volo📜

⭐️ When you told him the news, he sincerely debated fleeing and hiding again. Being a parent was a terrifying concept to him. He simply was not someone who had much interest in establishing a family line. After all, he had made very obvious his intentions to continue pursuing Hisui's myths to one day finish his goals. While he may have relented to whatever kind of relationship this was, he was not sure a child was something he needed. Then you mentioned that his child would come from one chosen by Arceus, and he suddenly gave in.

⭐️ He supposes that a child from both his blood of the ancient Sinnoh people and yours from that of one chosen by Arceus sounded too good. Besides, he had begun to wonder what should happen if he failed in his endeavours. A descendant could carry on where he left off, even possibly creating the world he so desired and bringing him back should he die. His acceptance is quiet and subtle. He finds himself listening to men and women about their experiences of being parents as he wanders around Hisui. Bravely, he even questions Cogita about what is entailed, intriguing her.

⭐️ He could not be at your side for any process of the delivery since he was very much wanted for his crimes in Jubilife, but he was somewhat doting during the pregnancy. He attempted to get whatever you requested, though he felt like he was going a bit mad when you sent him out hunting for seemingly endless leeks out in the wilds. Volo was mostly following Cogita's instructions here. It was about a week after the birth when you finally managed to sneak out of the village with the infant for him to finally greet the child. He could only stare at the sleeping face of his daughter in mild bewilderment. Soft golden tufts were across her head as she nuzzled into his warmth. His heart felt oddly heavy.

⭐️ When you finally escaped back to his home, he felt distressed by how needy the child was. Crying nearly relentlessly and needing attention more than he expected, yet before he could complain, he realised how he felt about those thoughts. Quickly, he shut them down and took to intently caring for the child. How could he have even thought such a thing about his child? He felt ill. Her confused coos and giggles at lease forced the pain out of his heart. She always seemed so entranced with his hair and desperately tried to grab it. Her grey eyes held pure adoration as she turned her head to find him whenever he was not holding her.

⭐️ As she grew, he became worried. His own youth was extremely difficult and lonely. The only person he felt he could turn to was rarely around, so he always found himself alone and ruminating on his complicated feelings. It all seemed pointless with how easily she spoke with other people. A bit like him, he supposed. Her intrigue with his investigations of ruins and myths drew her in, too. The girl listening to her father go on and on about history and stories of myths. Volo felt oddly eager. It seemed his legacy would inherit his interests. She began joining him to look over ruins and learn the culture of the ancient Sinnoh people.

⭐️ Cogita seemed smitten with his daughter, he had noticed. The older woman had often been there for him in his youth, and now it appeared her intentions remained the same for the girl. If his partner was busy while he was, too, he found her more than willing to babysit. She shared just as many myths to the girl as he had. The girl seemed utterly fascinated with everything, just as he had been. Though, he could feel the slight glare Cogita would give him when he listened in. It seemed she was more than aware of his darker plans.

⭐️ Volo is not really sure how to parent. He tries to be supportive towards his daughter, but struggles to understand if what he is doing is right or wrong. His parents were not exactly around him enough to help him even now by an example. He almost ends up treating her like a pokemon. Firm boundaries and obvious things you do and do not do. She has many moments of frustration towards the blond, which he entirely understands. Though, he does find himself overly protective of her. He feels she is in danger as the hero of Hisui's child alongside being his own, not mentioning the general danger of Hisui alone.

⭐️ From what he hears, the Galaxy Team simply adores her. Laventon cannot stop himself from going on and on about pokemon behaviours to the girl, and even bravely offering her another one of the pokemon he brought from his home region. Cyllene seems to fret over her wellbeing whenever you take her out of the village to his home, claiming she is too young to explore the harsh wilderness even while being monitored. Even Kamado has a strange soft spot for the kid, probably trying to make up for what he did to you. Volo can only sigh at all that.

⭐️ Ultimately, he has many shortcomings as a parent. It is a difficult change for him, but he forces himself to be at least more supportive and caring than his own parents were towards him. He honestly can be a little too harsh with his words, but somehow, his daughter seems to get he is trying his best. Her love for history and mythology makes him feel confident she will pick up where he left off should anything ever happen to him. After all, he plans to take her to the Temple of Sinnoh and explain to her his ultimate goals. She is already being trained in battling as a wielder by him. But, somehow, he wonders if she really will. The look in her eyes is much like his own yet different.

#pokemon x reader #volo x reader #cyrus x reader #maxie x reader #archie x reader #pokemon/reader #volo/reader #cyrus/reader #archie/reader #maxie/reader #pokemon volo x reader #pokemon cyrus x reader #pokemon archie x reader #pokemon maxie x reader

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