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spicerackofblorbos · 3 months

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Chapter 5: March

☾ Pairings ➼ Levi Ackerman x fem!mute!Reader (she/her pronouns), set in a modern semi-fictional world

☾ Summary ➼ Due to childhood trauma, you find yourself an adult without the ability to speak. After years of working on it, you have found ways to live without a voice. Now here in your late 20s, you are 5 months in getting used to a new town. On a fateful day in late November, you and your adopted sister visit a local bookstore-café, unaware of the friendships about to blossom. Throughout the months, one friendship in particular develops into something more.

☾ Content/Warnings ➼ fluff, slowburn, oblivious feelings, romance, angst, mention of minor character deaths, trauma, illness, adoption, mentions of fire, disabilities, alcohol use, very light nsfw mentions, references to child abuse, smoking and alcohol abuse mentions, domestic violence (to be continued as writing is ongoing)

☾ Author's note ➼ Hey guys! So uh, this chapter is a lot. In a lot of ways lol. There's some fluff, there's some slight angst. Overall, there's finally some explanations that I hope ties the whole story together. I hope y'all like it because I've been kicking myself over this chapter ALONE.

☾ Word Count ➼ ~9.1k (please don't hurt me)

While Hange spent many days gathering the things needed for her costume, you opted for something you already had shoved in the back of your closet from a Halloween party a couple years ago. And now, you were about to meet Erwin and Levi in said costume when you didn’t even know if they were into this kind of thing. You pull on your flowing sleeves in anxiety as your sister gets out of the passenger side, fixing their eye patch to sit better on their face.

“We made it!” They shriek in the cool, early spring air. They were donned in a casual pirate get up with a loose brown tricorn resting on their ever-frazzled hair. A fake cutlass hung from their hip as well as other colorful bits and bobbles. They look confident and energized as they look over to you with a wide eye.

Your heart flutters as you're reminded again of the two men waiting for you, of the specific one you were nervous about seeing again. Or was it excitement? You weren’t certain. Yanking on your dress again, you follow on Hange’s heels as they trek to the front gates of the Jinae Renaissance Faire.

Not long after do the admission gates show themselves to you both. As you step up to the line, you start to open your purse to pay when Hange grabs your arm and tugs you out of it, muttering something about it already being taken care of. When you give her a disgruntled look, she’s looking off to the side as she screams.

“There you are! I barely recognized you two!” They start pulling you in that direction as you struggle to zip your bag up through the rough bouncing of your running. When you look up, you see two figures, one tall and one short. Erwin and Levi. Your heart practically stops as you realize why you didn’t recognize them at first.

Erwin is dressed as a knight, his helmet tucked under his arm. You’re not sure if the silver reflecting off the sun is from real metal or not, but it’s quite the look regardless. He’s grinning down at you, and it made him look like a very handsome, well, knight in shining armor.

Levi stands next to him, arms crossed over his chest and he’s staring straight at you with a look you couldn’t discern, you don’t notice the way his eyes widen in recognition for a second. His stark gray eyes are covered by a black mask. He’s also wearing a solid black pirate-esque costume, gloves included. You gasp because you knew this costume. You knew it because you had dressed up as his character’s counterpart.

“Well, well, well. Look at what we have here!” Hange exclaims as they stop short in front of them. You wave to them with a wavering smile and then point to Levi’s get up, flicking your finger up and down his body with a furrowed brow as a way to ask, ‘Did you know?’

“I did not choose this.” Levi states briskly. He curls his right hand around the sword hilt that rests on his hip, the sound of leather squeaking as he does so.

“You can blame me for that,” Erwin’s deep voice cuts in, amused. “He wasn’t going to dress up, or even come for that matter, but I finally talked him into it.”

“Oh yeah? What did it?” Hange’s eye widened in faux surprise, a smirk playing on their lips.

“Are we going or not?” Levi starts walking in the direction of the entrance, not bothering to look behind him to see if anyone was following. Erwin chuckles and goes after him, and you and Hange are quick to follow.

The fair took place in a campsite deep in the forests of Jinae. The afternoon sun peeked its way through a canopy of tall evergreens. Fresh early spring air breezes through the trees as well as your flowing hair and you can’t help but breathe in deeply. What a gorgeous day, you think. Fallen foliage crunches underneath you as you all make your way deeper into the festivities. Plenty of people mill past, many of them dressed up to the nines and chattering away happily. You pick up the pace in excitement as your eyes wander.

You hesitate but take it from her fingers delicately and sign a ‘thank you’ at her with your other hand. Her eyes go wide and enthusiastically signs back ‘You’re welcome.’ You can’t help it, you giggle in delight. She waves goodbye and flounces away, the assorted chains that littered her body twinkling in the sunlight as she does. When you turn back to your group, Hange and Erwin are already far ahead, but Levi has stopped and is staring at you.

You inhale the flower’s scent as you saunter up to where Levi stood; he hadn’t moved an inch as he waited for you to catch up. His eyes are dark as they study your face. His mouth opens like he’s about to say something but then immediately closes it, turning away from you swiftly and starts off in the direction of the rest of the group. You purse your lips as you trail behind him, slightly annoyed.

Ever since Hange’s Valentine’s party last month, Levi has been really strange around you, even through your text messages. It’s not like how it was after the gala, it felt more isolating. Like he wasn’t allowing you into his space. Which granted, is pretty normal for anyone trying to get to know him better. But it didn’t really feel like you were just anyone, at this point. After that night on the patio at his apartment, it really felt like you two were getting along better. But now it felt like he was shutting you out again. It was all so frustrating.

Your group spent the next few hours bouncing around different activities; Everyone took turns deciding. Erwin had chosen a jousting match to kick things off. It wasn’t really your thing, but Erwin was captivated the whole time. Even Levi’s eyes never left the rough sport for a second, but his face didn’t give off a single emotion. It ended when one of the riders got knocked off so hard that they didn’t even get up from the dirt. Considering the lack of urgency to get him off the field, it must have not been a life-threatening injury. Still, you can’t help but feel bad for the guy.

Your favorite part was when the savior got their almost doll-like blonde-haired princess to safety, they took their helmet off to reveal it was actually a lady knight; She has choppy brunette hair that was pulled into a low ponytail and freckles that dotted along her nose. The way the knight and the princess stare toward one another makes you really feel the love that they held for each other, and you had to admit the ending got to you because of it. You applaud loudly as the cast takes a bow, the knight and princess both holding onto each other with wide smiles.

You glance at him with a side eye in hopes he would meet your gaze. However, he keeps it averted from you, appearing to people watch instead. It’s not like he had ever ignored you in the past month, but his abnormal stoicism towards you was really starting to get under your skin. His guard was up, and you didn’t know why. What had changed from that night of the party to now?

“I think we passed a stall back that way that sold pizza. I want that!” You hear Hange say in excitement, pointing down a dirt path to your left.

“You are more than welcome to do so but I think I’ve decided on one down there. I saw something about meat pies, and I’m intrigued.” Erwin stares down at a map of the grounds as he speaks.

“What about you two? Does anything stick out to you?” Hange spins on you and Levi.

“Whatever.”

You just shrug with a small smile.

“Great input, guys.” They roll their eyes at you and go back to looking over Erwin’s shoulder at the map.

“Well, we could all split up for a moment to get our respective lunches and reconvene at the axe throwing and archery area in about an hour or so? I think you wanted to do that for your turn?” Erwin pipes up as he looks behind his shoulder at you. You nod vigorously at it all, mainly at the choice of activity. You’ve always wanted to try both sports and were ecstatic when you saw it on the list of available stations.

“I think that’s a wonderful idea. There are a couple of other booths I wanted to check out earlier, this is a good opportunity.” Hange says as they stare down the path where the supposed pizza stall sat. You wave to get their attention.

‘I’m going to wander around myself then, if that’s cool with you?’ They give you a skeptical look and purse their lips.

“Will you be okay alone?” Levi’s head jerks up to Hange’s question then to you.

“She’s going alone?”

“She asked if she could.” They shrug their shoulders and Levi scoffs but says nothing else.

“Make sure your phones are on you and we’ll meet up in an hour.” Erwin cuts in, nodding to each of you before turning on his heels and disappearing in the crowd. So businesslike, you chuckle to yourself. Your sister grabs your hand then squeezes it before running off down the other way. Then it’s just you and Levi. You both look at each other. You’re about to offer if he would like to walk with you but he turns his back to you before you can get his attention.

“See you in an hour.” He says and walks into the crowd without looking back, leaving you alone. You blink hard at the empty space. Even after spending hours together, he’s still distant with you. You can’t help the hurt from seeping into your chest. You bite your cheek as you turn and start off in a random direction with no idea of where you’re going.

If he put himself in a position to be with you alone, there’s no telling what else might come out of his mouth. Levi was afraid it wouldn’t come out the way he wanted. He needed more time to figure out how he would approach you about the past, your past. And how his guilt was suffocating the life out of him.

That is until something sparkling in the late afternoon sun catches his attention. His good eye snaps to it immediately and he can’t help but take a couple steps closer to get a better look at what it was. There hanging on a small jewelry stand is a delicate gold necklace. It was simple and modest despite its shine.

“Ah, I see this has caught your eye.” A soft voice rings out from behind the counter, belonging to an older lady that he had not noticed before. She has short blonde hair that had started to gray at the roots and light, kind eyes that crinkled in the corners. A warm smile lights up her face.

“No, I was just going.” Levi’s eyes trail back to the necklace before turning around to leave.

“It’s my last one for the day. Since it caught your eye, I’ll let it go at a special price. Who is it that’s on your mind?” Levi’s steps falter then he looks back at the woman with wide eyes.

“I’m sorry?”

“Forgive me, but you seem to have that look on your face that only someone gets when there’s a person on their mind. So, who is it?” The lady leans over on the table she sat behind, propping herself up with her elbow and stares at Levi with earnest.

“I- that’s not any of your business.” He clicks his tongue and starts off in the direction behind him again.

“Whoever it is, they must be causing quite a storm inside you!” She shouts out.

“You don’t know anything about me.” Levi digs his heels in the dirt and stalks back over to the booth where the lady sits, his hands clenched into fists as he stares hard into the accuser’s eyes.

“Oh, no? There isn’t someone in your life right now digging up your past?” Levi reels and opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out.

She continues, “Humor me, son. This old woman is getting bored of the hustle and bustle out there. What’s on your mind? I’ll give you the necklace as payment if I find it entertaining enough.”

“Ma’am, not to be rude but I literally do not know you. And my life story isn’t some story for you to gawk at.”

“Strangers make the best confidants I find. And you look like you’re about to burst at the seams.”

Levi considers this for a moment. He hadn’t been able to talk to anyone about what’s been plaguing him all month. Since that night in your bedroom, seeing those picture frames. It had shaken him to his core and the only person he actually wanted to talk about it with was you, and, well. This woman was indeed a stranger, what could it hurt? He’s never going to see this woman again, he hopes.

“Tch, fine.” Levi sighs heavily and starts from the beginning.

They glimmered off the late afternoon sun as you passed underneath the spotty shaded canopy with a cup of hot liquid in your hand. Even though Levi had brushed you off earlier, you were not going to let that bother you. Maybe he was going through something right now and wasn’t ready to talk to you about it, you hope.

There was something different about his aura now, it didn’t feel as hostile as before. Though you could tell there was something still bothering him. When you’re right in front of him, you offer him the cup. He raises an eyebrow at you before taking a tentative sip. His eyes widened in surprise.

“Is this black tea? Where did you find this?” He takes another drink the way he does with his fingertips. You hold up a finger to him and grab your phone out of your purse.

‘A stall all the way on the other side. I did a lot of walking in the last hour.’

“I couldn’t find a drink stall that had anything I wanted. Thanks.” You give him a nod and drop yourself down next to his side on the bench to wait for the rest of your party. Levi says nothing else, but he does give you a side eye and glances up at the shining headpiece you adorned. You can’t help but smile widely at him and strike a lazy pose to show it off. You really did feel like a real princess even with the itchy dress. He turns his head away quickly and you fold your hands onto your lap, your smile slowly fading. You wish you could read minds.

“Ah, there you two are!!” A voice shrieks out. Hange comes practically skipping over with a grinning Erwin right behind her. “Sorry we’re so late. I have no excuses.” You can’t help but roll your eyes and laugh as you stand up to meet them. You hear Levi shuffling to do the same, the paper bag crinkling in his hand as he grips it tightly.

“I hope you all ate well because it’s time for some axe throwing and arrow nocking.” Erwin says with a slight chuckle. You nod vigorously and start off under the archway leading into your next activity.

Archery was not your forte, you quickly find out. You couldn’t stop holding the bow in a way that would keep the string from snapping back into your forearm. You had to stop after a couple tries because you feared if you tried any more, the bowstring would slice right into your skin. There will most definitely be a bruise there by the end of tonight. Erwin was phenomenal with the bow, and you could not help but stare in awe as he basically achieved a bullseye with every other arrow.

Fortunately, she was actually fairly good at the sport. One of her axes only bounced back once. Levi, of course, was great at both sports, hitting the targets with deadly precision. You shudder at the thought of anyone on the receiving end of Levi’s wrath given the opportunity to use weapons like these.

The sun was just starting to lower in the sky when it was time for Levi’s choice. Like you, he went with something a little more physically exerting. He opted for sword fighting. You could tell that Erwin was just as excited for it as well because his smile had not left his face the entire time you all made your way down to the field. Hange wasn’t exactly thrilled about it because she worried what might happen even with wooden swords, so both of you decided to sit on the sidelines to watch them closely.

They must have been sparring partners in a past life because the way they moved around each other in the field was mesmerizing. Every hit was met with a perfect parry. There were dodge rolls and feint attacks. Even with Levi’s physical limitations, he was still keeping Erwin on his toes, neither one going easy on the other. You had to admit that it was fun to observe them go at each other.

In the blink of an eye, you watch as Erwin twists his body in a way that grants him access to punch Levi in the face with the hilt of his sword. You stand up quickly, about to jump over the guardrail to make sure Levi was okay but he doesn’t even falter. He staggers back for a moment but goes right back into a defensive stance. From here, you can see the left side of Levi’s face has a small dribble of blood running down it. It’s coming from a cut above his left brow, and he’s not even batting an eye.

Levi comes at Erwin so quickly that you’re barely able to keep up with it. In a flash, he’s right behind Erwin and about to kick his legs out from under him but Erwin throws himself into Levi to knock him back. And then they’re at it again. You lean over the rail in anticipation, glancing back and forth between them and the sword instructor in hopes that they would come over and make them stop before things got too rough. But they did nothing, in fact they were staring at them in awe just as you were at their movements.

“Shit!” You hear along with the clattering of a wooden sword against the hard dirt. You stare in panic as you see Erwin holding his right wrist as he grimaces in pain. You and Hange immediately start running to them.

“Oh fuck, Erwin I’m sorry. I didn-“

“No, no. We were both going too hard. I should have seen this coming.” He says through gritted teeth as he holds his hand to his chest.

‘Are you okay? What happened?’ You sign to him quickly, your face no doubt flushed with anxiety. Levi is horror stricken as he stares at his best friend, who as always remains calm. The instructor is nowhere in sight when you need him, of course.

“A simple disarming maneuver. It’s just twisted is all.” Erwin nods down at you in reassurance, adding a warm smile with it. You’re most definitely not reassured.

“Alright boys, let’s take you both to the infirmary.” Hange sighs as she grabs Erwin by his other arm and tugs him along. You take a step forward to follow but Levi just huffs behind you, no sign of movement comes from his direction.

“You all go ahead, I’ll be fine.”

“Levi, you’re literally bleeding from your head.” They snark back.

“I’m fine, just go.” Levi turns and walks back to the benches where your and Hange’s things sat currently. You look over to Hange with bewilderment but they just give you a cheeky grin.

“Stay with him, we’ll be right back.” They shout as they continue to pull Erwin away in what you guess is the direction of the medical tent. You click your tongue, a habit you accidentally picked up from Levi, and spin back around. Levi’s trying to dab at his wound with the bottom of his black costume shirt, his lower abdomen peeking through and you force your eyes back up to his face as you make your way towards him. You grunt to get his attention, cocking your head to the side when he looks up.

“What?”

Sliding your phone back out of your purse, you type quickly, ‘You’re not doing a very good job at that.’

“Tch, I can’t exactly see what I’m doing.” He looks away as he lets go of his shirt. You pull yourself up the stairs to where he sat and straddle the bench so you’re facing him. Grabbing a couple of napkins from Hange’s bag and a water bottle you had purchased at the start of the activity, you then wet them carefully so as not to spill too much. Levi’s staring hard at you.

“What are you doing?” He asks in apprehension.

You then rub at the dried blood that had trickled down his face. When you do so, your eyes flicker over to him and he’s staring at you in such a way that makes you falter. He looks away quickly after you both lock eyes for a second. It was only for a moment, but it was such an intense look. You’re suddenly aware of how close you are to him, so you sit up straight and scoot back.

‘Be right back. I’m going to get ice for your welt.’ You type as you pick yourself up from the bench. He clears his throat and sits back as well, nodding in acknowledgment. Tossing the blood stained napkins into a trashcan on your way out, you pick up your pace as you feel your face warm up. He was so close to you; you could smell his signature fresh laundry and body wash. And it was almost as if his stormy gray eyes were a magnet, drawing you into them. You shake your head at the thought as if to clear them out of your mind.

When you finally find a stall that would give you a cup of ice without charging, you make your way back to where you left Levi. It takes you a minute, but you finally spot him pacing back and forth frantically. When he sees you, he stops in his tracks then sprints over to you. His black mask is all forgotten and you’re able to see his full features; His face is full of fear, eyebrows knit and eyes wide.

“I- we need-” Levi breathes out. Even his voice is wavering with panic. You set the cup down and type faster than you ever have before.

‘Levi, breathe. What happened?’

“I need to get out of here, but I don’t know where Erwin and Hange went. Erwin is my ride. But I need to go.”

‘Go where? What happened?’ You grab onto one of his hands in hopes to ground him. His eyes are darting around wildly. When you squeeze his hand hard to get his attention, they finally land on your face and you take a deep breath, hoping he would follow. He attempts to but it’s fairly shallow.

“Sh-she’s back at the hospital. Something happened and she’s there and I…” Is all he manages to get out. His eyes are frantically looking around for the others. She? You grab all of your belongings as well as the things left behind from Erwin and Hange and tuck everything under one arm. With the other, you pull out your car keys and reach for Levi’s hand. He jolts back, staring at you with alarm. You reach for it again and clasp it with keys tucked in between both of your palms, then you start running for the entrance of where you all came from.

There was no time to let Hange know where you two were going, you would have to do that when you got to where you were heading. Just as there was no time to ask Levi what the hell you two were doing, you would get answers later. All you knew was that he was panicking, and you had the power to help him.

When you eventually find the car, you toss in the things under your arms into the back seat then throw yourself into the driver’s side. Levi does the same on the passenger side and you don’t hesitate to back out before checking to see if he was buckled in. In mere moments, you’re zooming down to the only hospital in town.

Without thinking, you reach over with one of your hands and place it on top of his knee gently. It stops. You spare a glance at him and he’s staring straight ahead, but he makes no move to throw your hand off him. You both stay like this for the rest of the ride.

After what feels like an eternity, you drop Levi off at the front so you can find a place to park. It takes a couple minutes but you’re able to find a spot near the back, though you don’t get out of the car right away. Instead, you take this time to send Hange a quick text about your situation as well as collect yourself. Levi’s panic is not something you’ll soon forget. It hurt you to see him so distraught. Multiple heavy breathing exercises later, you unbuckle yourself and head out into the now cool evening, the Emergency entrance in your sights.

You deal with communication issues at the front desk but finally you’re able to find where Levi headed off too. It was the waiting room of the surgery wing and you felt your heart sink to your stomach. What happened? When you make it through the doors, you find Levi pacing back and forth with his hands tightly knitted in his hair. He looks up to you with hollow eyes but says nothing. He maintains his pacing so you decide to sit in a chair near him, watching him as he does. This continues for a bit until a woman in gray scrubs comes out of the surgery ward, a clipboard in hand and a neutral expression across her face.

“Ackerman?” She calls out. Levi stops dead and he’s quick to bound over to her with you right behind.

“What’s going on?” His voice is gravelly and dripping with anxiety. She eyeballs the two of you and only then do you remember that you both pulled up in matching costumes, now sticking out like a sore thumb in comparison to the white, sterile walls. You wrap your arms around you self-consciously and shoot her a weak grin.

“She’s in stable condition right now. But I’m afraid your mother suffered an extreme heart attack earlier this evening. We had to perform an immediate PCI. The blockage was found and taken care of in time, fortunately.” The nurse states calmly. Mother?

“How did this happen?” His words come through gritted teeth.

“I was not told of the specifics, I’m sorry.”

“Can I see her?”

“You may but she won’t be awake for a while. She just got out of surgery.” She murmurs as she takes a close look at her clipboard.

“I don’t care, I need to see her.”

She looks up from the board to take a look at Levi’s face closely, her eyes trailing up to the cut on his eyebrow before asking, “Would you like us to take a look at that wound while you’re here?”

“No. Can we go now?” Levi clips impatiently.

“Very well. Come with me.” And she starts off to the double doors behind her, pulling her badge out to unlock them. Then she sees you following Levi’s steps and stops to speak to you. “I’m sorry, are you family as well?” You don’t see it, but Levi’s eyes narrow at the nurse.

“She’s with me.” Is all he says but his choice of words makes your stomach flutter. With me. The nurse just sighs and taps her badge to the scanner causing the doors to open with a beep. You’re led down a maze of halls until you get to a room with a big glass window. As you pass it, you’re hit with a fleeting feeling of familiarity at the face that belonged to the woman in the bed. After following Levi into the room, the nurse then closes the door behind you with a click.

Taking a couple steps forward, you eye the beautiful face trying to rack your brain still. Nothing. Levi’s staring at you like he wants to say something but thinks better of it and shifts his gaze back to his mom. Not this again.

You pull your phone out of your purse and type a quick message to him. A notification ping goes off, but he makes no effort to check it. You wave at him to get his attention and when he looks over, you point to your phone and then towards him.

‘I’m glad to know your mom is okay. Are you?’

“I’m fine.” Short and to the point, as always.

‘You looked like you wanted to say something a minute ago. What?’

“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

‘Don’t shut me out. What is it?’

“I’m not shutting you out.” His voice straining.

‘You are. What’s going on with you?’

“There’s nothing going on. Leave it alone.”

‘No. Ever since the party, you’ve been distant with me, and I deserve to know why. What happened that night? Did I do something wrong?’ You stare hard at Levi, but he continues to stare down at the screen. His grip on the phone is tight.

“This is not the time for this right now.” He mumbles coarsely. You huff loudly and slap your hands down to your thighs. His gaze finally cuts over to you, his eyes dark and tired more than usual. Both of you lock eyes for a moment, and you can tell he’s thinking of something else to say to you but then the room is filled with the noises of your stomach growling violently. Your cheeks are quick to flare up and you’re the first to break away from the staring contest.

“Hungry?” Levi quips in a dry tone. You’re quick to frown at him. But you are, you’re severely hungry. In the hour that you were supposed to feed yourself, you ended up window shopping the whole time. Even when you stopped to grab Levi that tea, you didn’t buy yourself food. You were just too engrossed with your surroundings.

“Just go get some food, you’re not useful here.” He’s right, but you can’t keep the hurt look from flashing across your face at his words.

‘Neither are you. Besides, I don’t want to leave you.’ Only after you hit send are you aware of what you just said and you quickly type out, ‘Since I’m your ride, and all.’ Nailed it.

“I can call Erwin.” He could, but you wanted answers and you had him cornered for once.

‘Just come get dinner with me. I’ll take you right back here after. The nurse said she’d be out for a while anyways and that she’s stable. You know they’ll call you if anything happens.’ You glance back over to his mom to study her face again. She was just as beautiful as his son, her features just the same as his. Her familiarity still itched at you. When you don’t hear a response, you look over to Levi and see that he’s eying you with thought. You offer a small smile, and he rolls his eyes.

“Fine. But here right after.” You swear you hear his stomach rumbling as well.

After a brief drive, you both find yourselves sitting in red booths at a diner down the street. The smell of greasy food permeates your senses and you’re drooling already. The multitude of options were too overwhelming, so you went with a simple burger and fries. Levi orders the same without even looking at His menu. His mind was clearly far away at the moment.

‘Spill.’ You shoot at him.

“Really, right here?” He clicks his tongue and looks out to watch the cars passing on the street.

‘Yes, really. Why are you being so distant with me? What did I do?’

“You didn’t do anything.”

‘You could have fooled me.’ You use your straw to stir at your soda mindlessly.

“Tch, it’s nothing you did, okay? I mean it.” He mutters as he takes a sip of his water, eyes still focused on the street.

‘Okay, then what is it?’

There’s a pause.

“How much of your childhood do you remember prior to the fire?” Out of all the things you thought he would say next, this is not one of them. It was so out of left field; it takes him staring you straight in the eyes to be able to respond. You blink down at your phone.

‘Not much. Just warm feelings, an older brother and two parents. Why?’ You can’t help but frown.

“There’s no way to say thi-“ He’s cut off by the waitress coming over to set down your plates of food with a wide grin. You don’t miss the way she looks at Levi. There were practically hearts in her eyes.

“Anything else I can get y’all?” She asks, looking between the two of you.

“No.” Levi remarks dismissively, not even bothering to look up at her.

“Oh, well. Holler if you need me!” She chirps then walks away leaving the two of you to stare at each other. You nervously pick at your fries as you send Levi another text.

‘You were saying?’

“We used to be neighbors when we were kids.” The fry you held in your fingers drops back to the plate as you process what he just said. Neighbors? No, you’re certain you’ve never seen him before. You look up at him and shake your head.

“We were. I used to come over and play with your brother every day. My mother adored you.” Levi mumbles as he pokes at his burger with a fork. You suddenly feel dizzy as you feel that wall from earlier start cracking. Is this why…? A memory of warm cookies and long raven hair zooms through your mind.

“I’m sure all the trauma you’ve endured for years erased many of your memories. I know for certain you don’t remember me, but I guess that would make sense. I’m not the gangly kid you once knew.” He chuckles darkly. You’re still having a hard time processing what he just said but you definitely can’t recall many memories prior to the time you were with the Zoë’s. You continue to blink hard at him, your dinner all but forgotten. After a moment, your fingers start typing again.

‘I’m sorry I don’t remember you.’

“Tch, that’s your takeaway here?” He rolls his eyes and drums his fingers on the hard table impatiently. He was still holding back.

‘Just say it, Levi.’

“I just didn’t know you were alive, is all.” Alive? Did he think… how did he…?

‘How did you find this all out?’

“You know, we moved when I was around nine, so it was strange to hear about something so far away. We assumed the whole family died, no one knew about a survivor. So that’s why I didn’t think anything of it. Also, because, well, you look different now compared to when you were six.” He averts his gaze and takes a drink of his water as he thinks. You’re glad for the pause because this was enough to make your head go reeling. You sit forward and shove your head in your hands to keep yourself from falling over in the seat.

A couple minutes pass before you’re able to form coherent words, ‘Is that why you’ve been so distant? Because you remembered we had a past together?’ You look up at him through eyelashes, his gaze soft on you. He shifts in his seat uncomfortably. There’s more.

“No.” His hands that sat on top of the table are clenched in fists so tight that you wouldn’t be surprised if his nails drew blood from his palms. You reach over with shaking hands to hold on to one of his to get his attention. With pleading eyes, you stare up at him. He doesn’t shake off your touch, in fact he clasps his fingers over yours and holds on tightly. They were soft and warm and very much needed.

“My dad was a drunk, a very mean, abusive drunk. My mother worked hard to keep a roof over our heads and food on the table while he stayed home and drank the day away. I always had to clean up after him since he wouldn’t do it himself, leaving half-drunk liquor bottles and lit cigarettes all over the place. And my poor mom, she was already so tired when she came home that I couldn’t bear to see her do more work.” He grips your hand tighter as he looks away.

"When I came home, I see this fucker slapping my mother in the face so hard that she fell backwards, and I snapped. I threatened him with a knife and everything, telling him if he touched me or my mom ever again I would kill him. The bastard laughed in my face. My mom was afraid I would follow through with that threat so that’s why she made us move. God, you were so sad that day.” He takes a deep breath and fixes his gaze back to you. His expression is pained and so full of guilt.

“I’m the reason your family is dead.” Levi’s voice is so soft, it was almost a whisper. You knew that to be a lie considering everything he told you. He moved away before the fire even happened, so that’s not possible. You scan his face, your eyes searching for anything other than remorse and guilt but that’s all there was. You shake your head at him furiously. It’s a lie, you know that.

“I am. I don’t know how it happened, but the dirty bastard died in the house fire of his own doing. But then it caught onto yours and… I just,” He pauses, thinking about his next words. “I can’t help but think that if I never threatened him then my mother and I would have stayed. And I could have been there to clean up after him. I could have stopped the fire from ever happening. I could have kept your family safe, and you would still be with them.”

There’s a very physical pain in your gut as you slowly understand why he was so distant with you, why he was shutting you out. Levi blamed himself for everything. The speed at which you snatch your phone and type away would have been impressive, had you cared at that moment.

‘Not your fault.’

“Yes, it is.”

‘You did not start the fire. He did. Nothing you could have done.’ You reach over even more to look straight into his stormy gray eyes.

“You don’t understand, I could have stopped it.” Levi repeats.

‘Levi, listen to me. There’s nothing in the world that you could have done to stop it. I know more than most how much I wish it didn’t happen but it did. And knowing that even despite my unfortunate circumstances, you were able to get out of such a shitty situation. And that makes me happy. No one deserves someone like that in their life. Especially not you. I’ve made peace with this. You should too.’ You squeeze his hand tightly and stare up at him with what you hoped looked like a reassuring smile. He doesn’t say anything from behind his phone screen.

‘I don’t blame you for anything and that has to count for something.’ He glances up at you again. It’s like the life had deflated from his body and he looked so small. A part of you wished you could hold him and tell him he was okay.

“Thank you.” His voice is hoarse, causing him to clear his throat. “I should have said something sooner, but I was afraid.”

‘Afraid of what?’

“That you would get mad at me or stop talking to me.” He mumbles. You’re not sure if it was the dark talk or the suffocating tension but you laugh, really hard. It feels foreign to you since you do your best not to laugh out loud usually but you don’t care, his simplicity was so funny to you. He furrows his brows at you and starts to pull his hand away but you grab onto it and don’t let it go.

‘I would never. There’s nothing to be mad about.’ Levi’s shoulder’s slump and you can tell a lot of the stress he held in his tiny frame had finally dissipated.

“That’s not funny.” He complains, but a small smirk twitches at the corners of his scarred lips.

‘Thank you for telling me. Really.’ You squeeze his hand once more before letting go of it, the warmth of his skin lingering on your fingertips. A moment of silence ensues, and you take this moment to take a bite of your surprisingly still warm burger. It was delicious and you’re reminded again of how hungry you really were. Levi hesitates but does the same. It’s like this for a while. Comfortable, yet again.

There was no room in your heart to be mad at Levi, especially for something he was not responsible for in any capacity. You were not lying; you really had made peace with it all years ago. If anything, it was reassuring having answers of what had happened that night. And you were grateful for Levi, even if he didn’t believe it. Something else stirs in your chest but you swat it away.

A couple bites later and you can’t help but ask the most important question yet, ‘What was I like back then?’ His scoff and eye roll intrigues you right away.

“You were such a troublemaker. A little shit, if I might say.” You choke on your soda and stare at him with a dumbfounded expression. “It’s true. You got your brother in trouble a lot. Always having to chase after you. There were a lot of times I had to carry you home kicking and screaming because you didn’t get your way.” He exhales in what almost sounded like content. Something flashes in your mind.

‘Was there a frog?’

“Good god, out of all the things you remember, it’s that incident?” He bites into a fry but there’s a smile behind it. It’s not big or anything but it’s enough to warm you from the inside.

‘Well now you HAVE to tell me.’

“There was a pond down the street that you loved to play in. It had started storming and your brother couldn't coerce you into coming home so I picked you up and flung you over my shoulder while you kicked and screamed. All because you wanted to take a frog home to be your new pet.” A visual of pouring rain and staring down at the wet pavement crosses your mind. You can’t help but smile at the memory.

‘Mr. Froggy.’ You giggle at the memory.

“Yes, I believe that’s what you called him.” Levi wipes his mouth and sits forward to look at you, his mouth open to say something else but he closes it just as fast. You tap your finger on the table and shake your head at him, as if to say tell me.

“Okay, okay. I saw something at the fair that I thought you might like.” You sit up quickly and gawk at him. You then point to yourself to make sure that he meant you. He pulls the small brown bag you saw earlier out of a pocket you didn’t even know existed. Clapping your hands together, you smile brightly at him. He places it in front of you. You waste no time tearing into the bag.

Without even thinking about it, you quickly stand and move to slide into his booth with your back to him, holding the necklace up behind you. You don’t see it, but he is flustered to no end. Though, he understands because he takes it from you and carefully reaches around your neck to clip it on. It sits perfectly and you can't help but turn to him with a wide smile. He's a lot closer than you thought he would be. Silver eyes stare into yours and your smile falters.

“Will this be one check or two?” A chipper voice rings out, making you both jump away quickly. Your face is matching the same flush on Levi’s.

“One, please.” Levi says after clearing his throat. You look back at him with your most offended expression. He just clicks his tongue and pulls out his card from his wallet to hand to the waitress. She runs off to charge it but not before making a face at the proximity of the two of you.

“It’s easier this way.” He mutters quickly. You jump back over to your side, still feeling the heat of your face radiating.

‘Thank you so much, Levi. I love it. How did you know I liked sakuras?’ You cock an eyebrow at him while you fiddled with the small pendant in between two fingers.

“Your bedroom door. It’s a fitting flower for you.” He’s fidgeting with his long sleeves.

‘Something else bothering you?’

“Not really. It’s just, the necklace reminded me of something that’s happening next month and since you love cherry blossoms so much I thought maybe you’d be interested.” He flicks his eyes over to yours quickly before looking down at his phone for your response.

‘Well, what is it?’ It feels like your heart is about to burst out of your chest. Is he asking you what you think he’s asking…?

“It’s a cherry blossom festival. You know, carnival rides, food stalls, rubber duck racing. Would you… like to go w-with me?” He pulls at his collar nervously. You pinch your lips together in hopes it would keep the gigantic grin from forming. You start typing a response but then he quickly cuts in with, “Hange and Erwin are invited of course.” Oh.

‘Yeah, that sounds like fun. Let’s do it.’ You offer him a small smile instead, afraid your disappointment would show.

“Well. Great, that sounds… great.” He sighs.

Yeah, great.

Thankfully Hange had not asked any questions of what had transpired but you notice their not-so-subtle glances at the new accessory adorning your neck. You had spent a couple hours of tossing and turning in your bed as you replayed every word that was said tonight until finally you were lulled asleep into the late hours.

☾ Previous Chapter: February ☾ Next Chapter: April

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chaotic-on-main · 1 year

Text

Chapter 5: March

☾ Pairings ➼ Levi Ackerman x fem!mute!Reader (she/her pronouns), set in a modern semi-fictional world

☾ Word Count ➼ ~9.1k (please don't hurt me

You can’t help but tug at the thin fabric that scratched at your skin as you pull yourself out of the driver’s side of Hange’s car. The red dress trailing down your figure sat pretty loose, but it was not comfortable to you in the slightest. Come to think of it, it wasn’t just the fabric that made you uncomfortable, it was the fact that Hange had talked you into dressing up in the first place. While Hange spent many days gathering the things needed for her costume, you opted for something you already had shoved in the back of your closet from a Halloween party a couple years ago. And now, you were about to meet Erwin and Levi in said costume when you didn’t even know if they were into this kind of thing. You pull on your flowing sleeves in anxiety as your sister gets out of the passenger side, fixing their eye patch to sit better on their face.

“Well, let’s go find them! Erwin just texted me that they’re waiting by the admission booths.” You both close the car doors at the same time and you make sure to lock the car with the keys before shoving them down into your small cross-body purse. Your heart flutters as you're reminded again of the two men waiting for you, of the specific one you were nervous about seeing again. Or was it excitement? You weren’t certain. Yanking on your dress again, you follow on Hange’s heels as they trek to the front gates of the Jinae Renaissance Faire.

“I did not choose this.” Levi states briskly. He curls his right hand around the sword hilt that rests on his hip, the sound of leather squeaking as he does so.

“You can blame me for that,” Erwin’s deep voice cuts in, amused. “He wasn’t going to dress up, or even come for that matter, but I finally talked him into it.”

“Oh yeah? What did it?” Hange’s eye widened in faux surprise, a smirk playing on their lips.

The smells of smoked meat and various vegetables filled the air as you drew closer to the heart. There also lie a variety of stalls selling trinkets, fake weaponry, and leather goods that lined up parallel to the path you walked on. You couldn’t keep the grin off your face as you stare at it all in awe. An elven woman with antlers covered in sparkling gems bounces up next to you with a big smile and holds out a white lily for you to take. You hesitate but take it from her fingers delicately and sign a ‘thank you’ at her with your other hand. Her eyes go wide and enthusiastically signs back ‘You’re welcome.’ You can’t help it, you giggle in delight. She waves goodbye and flounces away, the assorted chains that littered her body twinkling in the sunlight as she does. When you turn back to your group, Hange and Erwin are already far ahead, but Levi has stopped and is staring at you.

After that, it was Hange’s turn and they decided on a play that was showing in the amphitheater. They were doing some sort of homemade play about a princess being held hostage from bandits and a knight that goes on a journey to save her. It wasn’t half bad, you thought. Your favorite part was when the savior got their almost doll-like blonde-haired princess to safety, they took their helmet off to reveal it was actually a lady knight; She has choppy brunette hair that was pulled into a low ponytail and freckles that dotted along her nose. The way the knight and the princess stare toward one another makes you really feel the love that they held for each other, and you had to admit the ending got to you because of it. You applaud loudly as the cast takes a bow, the knight and princess both holding onto each other with wide smiles.

A half hour later, you all find yourselves standing outside of the amphitheater trying to think of what to get for a late lunch. There were so many food stalls that it had started to overwhelm you. You fidget with your sleeves as you watch Hange and Erwin talk, while Levi stays quiet as always. You glance at him with a side eye in hopes he would meet your gaze. However, he keeps it averted from you, appearing to people watch instead. It’s not like he had ever ignored you in the past month, but his abnormal stoicism towards you was really starting to get under your skin. His guard was up, and you didn’t know why. What had changed from that night of the party to now?

“I think we passed a stall back that way that sold pizza. I want that!” You hear Hange say in excitement, pointing down a dirt path to your left.

“You are more than welcome to do so but I think I’ve decided on one down there. I saw something about meat pies, and I’m intrigued.” Erwin stares down at a map of the grounds as he speaks.

“What about you two? Does anything stick out to you?” Hange spins on you and Levi.

“Whatever.”

You just shrug with a small smile.

“Great input, guys.” They roll their eyes at you and go back to looking over Erwin’s shoulder at the map.

‘I’m going to wander around myself then, if that’s cool with you?’ They give you a skeptical look and purse their lips.

“Will you be okay alone?” Levi’s head jerks up to Hange’s question then to you.

“She’s going alone?”

“She asked if she could.” They shrug their shoulders and Levi scoffs but says nothing else.

See you in an hour? Levi couldn’t stop the cold words from sliding out. He almost asked if he could tag along with you but he forced himself to walk away because he couldn’t dare to look you in the eyes. He’d been so careful around you in the last month but it’s like he couldn’t hold back anymore. If he put himself in a position to be with you alone, there’s no telling what else might come out of his mouth. Levi was afraid it wouldn’t come out the way he wanted. He needed more time to figure out how he would approach you about the past, your past. And how his guilt was suffocating the life out of him.

Levi shoves his hands in his pocket as he weaves through the crowd in the direction of their rendezvous spot. There wasn’t anything he needed at this place so he decided he would give his leg a break while he waited for everyone else. That is until something sparkling in the late afternoon sun catches his attention. His good eye snaps to it immediately and he can’t help but take a couple steps closer to get a better look at what it was. There hanging on a small jewelry stand is a delicate gold necklace. It was simple and modest despite its shine.

“No, I was just going.” Levi’s eyes trail back to the necklace before turning around to leave.

“I’m sorry?”

“I- that’s not any of your business.” He clicks his tongue and starts off in the direction behind him again.

“Whoever it is, they must be causing quite a storm inside you!” She shouts out.

“Oh, no? There isn’t someone in your life right now digging up your past?” Levi reels and opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out.

“Ma’am, not to be rude but I literally do not know you. And my life story isn’t some story for you to gawk at.”

“Strangers make the best confidants I find. And you look like you’re about to burst at the seams.”

“Tch, fine.” Levi sighs heavily and starts from the beginning.

It had been about an hour since your group broke up when you found yourself trekking to the rendezvous spot. You had a great time wandering around by yourself, making sure to double back to a couple stalls you had passed earlier in the day. While you focused mainly on window shopping, you couldn’t help but buy yourself a tiara inlaid with the most spectacular fake gemstones. They glimmered off the late afternoon sun as you passed underneath the spotty shaded canopy with a cup of hot liquid in your hand. Even though Levi had brushed you off earlier, you were not going to let that bother you. Maybe he was going through something right now and wasn’t ready to talk to you about it, you hope.

When you make it to the clearing, you smile as you see Levi sitting at one the benches massaging his leg. There’s a small paper bag next to him. As you get closer, his gray eyes look up to meet you and pinches his lips together into a thin line. There was something different about his aura now, it didn’t feel as hostile as before. Though you could tell there was something still bothering him. When you’re right in front of him, you offer him the cup. He raises an eyebrow at you before taking a tentative sip. His eyes widened in surprise.

“Is this black tea? Where did you find this?” He takes another drink the way he does with his fingertips. You hold up a finger to him and grab your phone out of your purse.

‘A stall all the way on the other side. I did a lot of walking in the last hour.’

Axe throwing on the other hand was cathartic in all the best ways. You were not very accurate at it, but you achieved hitting the hard wood and that was an accomplishment all in its own right. Everyone had taken several steps back when it came to Hange’s turn. The wicked gleam in her eyes was enough to warn every one of her potential. Fortunately, she was actually fairly good at the sport. One of her axes only bounced back once. Levi, of course, was great at both sports, hitting the targets with deadly precision. You shudder at the thought of anyone on the receiving end of Levi’s wrath given the opportunity to use weapons like these.

“Oh fuck, Erwin I’m sorry. I didn-“

“No, no. We were both going too hard. I should have seen this coming.” He says through gritted teeth as he holds his hand to his chest.

“A simple disarming maneuver. It’s just twisted is all.” Erwin nods down at you in reassurance, adding a warm smile with it. You’re most definitely not reassured.

“You all go ahead, I’ll be fine.”

“Levi, you’re literally bleeding from your head.” They snark back.

“I’m fine, just go.” Levi turns and walks back to the benches where your and Hange’s things sat currently. You look over to Hange with bewilderment but they just give you a cheeky grin.

“What?”

Sliding your phone back out of your purse, you type quickly, ‘You’re not doing a very good job at that.’

“What are you doing?” He asks in apprehension.

You only stare back at him, softening your gaze as you lift your hand up slowly to his face. He doesn’t flinch back, which you take as a good sign of him trusting you. You use your other hand to pull his hair back a little and start dabbing at the cut carefully with the wet napkin. The gash isn’t bleeding anymore, thankfully. Most of it had already started coagulating. The spot had also started to swell with heat and when you press back down on it gently, you feel him wince with a hiss. You then rub at the dried blood that had trickled down his face. When you do so, your eyes flicker over to him and he’s staring at you in such a way that makes you falter. He looks away quickly after you both lock eyes for a second. It was only for a moment, but it was such an intense look. You’re suddenly aware of how close you are to him, so you sit up straight and scoot back.

“I- we need-” Levi breathes out. Even his voice is wavering with panic. You set the cup down and type faster than you ever have before.

‘Levi, breathe. What happened?’

“I need to get out of here, but I don’t know where Erwin and Hange went. Erwin is my ride. But I need to go.”

With the evening drawing near, there were not nearly as many people here as there was before, but it was still enough to be a nuisance to run through. You gripped onto Levi’s hand so tightly, afraid of losing him in the crowd. You don’t notice but at one point, he starts to hold on with both of his hands for dear life. When you finally break out, you dash down the aisle where your car was. There was no time to let Hange know where you two were going, you would have to do that when you got to where you were heading. Just as there was no time to ask Levi what the hell you two were doing, you would get answers later. All you knew was that he was panicking, and you had the power to help him.

The car ride was filled with Levi’s panicked heavy breathing as you did your best to weave around the end of day rush hour. Every once and a while, you would hear Levi cursing at a red light or a stop sign, his hands gripping the dashboard so tight that his knuckles turned white. One of his knees was shaking up and down so fast you’re surprised the car doesn’t bounce with it. Without thinking, you reach over with one of your hands and place it on top of his knee gently. It stops. You spare a glance at him and he’s staring straight ahead, but he makes no move to throw your hand off him. You both stay like this for the rest of the ride.

“Ackerman?” She calls out. Levi stops dead and he’s quick to bound over to her with you right behind.

“How did this happen?” His words come through gritted teeth.

“I was not told of the specifics, I’m sorry.”

“Can I see her?”

“You may but she won’t be awake for a while. She just got out of surgery.” She murmurs as she takes a close look at her clipboard.

“I don’t care, I need to see her.”

“No. Can we go now?” Levi clips impatiently.

The room is silent all besides the beeping of the monitors next to the bed. Levi is already at the woman’s, his mom’s, side. He’s holding her hand and his expression has already gone from dread to worried relief. Your eyes trail over to the woman’s features, and you gasp audibly because this face was indeed familiar. But your mind feels like it’s hitting a wall because you can’t recall exactly why she was so familiar and it frustrates you. Taking a couple steps forward, you eye the beautiful face trying to rack your brain still. Nothing. Levi’s staring at you like he wants to say something but thinks better of it and shifts his gaze back to his mom. Not this again.

‘I’m glad to know your mom is okay. Are you?’

“I’m fine.” Short and to the point, as always.

‘You looked like you wanted to say something a minute ago. What?’

“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

‘Don’t shut me out. What is it?’

“I’m not shutting you out.” His voice straining.

‘You are. What’s going on with you?’

“There’s nothing going on. Leave it alone.”

“Just go get some food, you’re not useful here.” He’s right, but you can’t keep the hurt look from flashing across your face at his words.

‘Neither are you. Besides, I don’t want to leave you.’ Only after you hit send are you aware of what you just said and you quickly type out, ‘Since I’m your ride, and all.’ Nailed it.

“I can call Erwin.” He could, but you wanted answers and you had him cornered for once.

“Fine. But here right after.” You swear you hear his stomach rumbling as well.

‘Spill.’ You shoot at him.

“Really, right here?” He clicks his tongue and looks out to watch the cars passing on the street.

‘Yes, really. Why are you being so distant with me? What did I do?’

“You didn’t do anything.”

‘You could have fooled me.’ You use your straw to stir at your soda mindlessly.

“Tch, it’s nothing you did, okay? I mean it.” He mutters as he takes a sip of his water, eyes still focused on the street.

‘Okay, then what is it?’

There’s a pause.

‘Not much. Just warm feelings, an older brother and two parents. Why?’ You can’t help but frown.

“Anything else I can get y’all?” She asks, looking between the two of you.

“No.” Levi remarks dismissively, not even bothering to look up at her.

“Oh, well. Holler if you need me!” She chirps then walks away leaving the two of you to stare at each other. You nervously pick at your fries as you send Levi another text.

‘You were saying?’

‘I’m sorry I don’t remember you.’

“Tch, that’s your takeaway here?” He rolls his eyes and drums his fingers on the hard table impatiently. He was still holding back.

‘Just say it, Levi.’

“I just didn’t know you were alive, is all.” Alive? Did he think… how did he…?

‘How did you find this all out?’

“The pictures on your desk. I did some searching when I got home that night and found the articles about your family. Mom and I heard about the fire about a year or two after it happened from a stranger in passing.” He leans back in his seat, eyes now falling on your pallid face. “You know, we moved when I was around nine, so it was strange to hear about something so far away. We assumed the whole family died, no one knew about a survivor. So that’s why I didn’t think anything of it. Also, because, well, you look different now compared to when you were six.” He averts his gaze and takes a drink of his water as he thinks. You’re glad for the pause because this was enough to make your head go reeling. You sit forward and shove your head in your hands to keep yourself from falling over in the seat.

“One day, my mom came home while I was gone. I didn’t clean that day because I was out so late. So he starts yelling at her, screaming that she was lazy and never picked up around the house. When I came home, I see this fucker slapping my mother in the face so hard that she fell backwards, and I snapped. I threatened him with a knife and everything, telling him if he touched me or my mom ever again I would kill him. The bastard laughed in my face. My mom was afraid I would follow through with that threat so that’s why she made us move. God, you were so sad that day.” He takes a deep breath and fixes his gaze back to you. His expression is pained and so full of guilt.

“I am. I don’t know how it happened, but the dirty bastard died in the house fire of his own doing. But then it caught onto yours and… I just,” He swallows hard. “I can’t help but think that if I never threatened him then my mother and I would have stayed. And I could have been there to clean up after him. I could have stopped the fire from ever happening. I could have kept your family safe, and you would still be with them.” There’s a very physical pain in your gut as you slowly understand why he was so distant with you, why he was shutting you out. Levi blamed himself for everything. The speed at which you snatch your phone and type away would have been impressive, had you cared at that moment.

‘Not your fault.’

“Yes, it is.”

‘You did not start the fire. He did. Nothing you could have done.’ You reach over even more to look straight into his stormy gray eyes.

“You don’t understand, I could have stopped it.” Levi repeats.

“Thank you.” His voice is hoarse, causing him to clear his throat. “I should have said something sooner, but I was afraid.”

‘Afraid of what?’

‘I would never. There’s nothing to be mad about.’ Levi’s shoulder’s slump and you can tell a lot of the stress he held in his tiny frame had finally dissipated.

“That’s not funny.” He complains, but a small smirk twitches at the corners of his scarred lips.

A couple bites later and you can’t help but ask the most important question yet, ‘What was I like back then?’ His scoff and eye roll intrigues you right away.

‘Was there a frog?’

‘Well now you HAVE to tell me.’

‘Mr. Froggy.’ You giggle at the memory.

Inside is a thin and dainty gold chain necklace with a small pendant hanging off it. It’s a pink, crystal cherry blossom surrounded by the same gold metal. It was simple and elegant and perfect. You stare up at Levi with wide eyes and he has the brightest pink flush dusting his cheeks. He’s not looking at you. Without even thinking about it, you quickly stand and move to slide into his booth with your back to him, holding the necklace up behind you. You don’t see it, but he is flustered to no end. Though, he understands because he takes it from you and carefully reaches around your neck to clip it on. It sits perfectly and you can't help but turn to him with a wide smile. He's a lot closer than you thought he would be. Silver eyes stare into yours and your smile falters.

“Will this be one check or two?” A chipper voice rings out, making you both jump away quickly. Your face is matching the same flush on Levi’s.

“It’s easier this way.” He mutters quickly. You jump back over to your side, still feeling the heat of your face radiating.

‘Thank you so much, Levi. I love it. How did you know I liked sakuras?’ You cock an eyebrow at him while you fiddled with the small pendant in between two fingers.

“Your bedroom door. It’s a fitting flower for you.” He’s fidgeting with his long sleeves.

‘Something else bothering you?’

‘Well, what is it?’ It feels like your heart is about to burst out of your chest. Is he asking you what you think he’s asking…?

‘Yeah, that sounds like fun. Let’s do it.’ You offer him a small smile instead, afraid your disappointment would show.

“Well. Great, that sounds… great.” He sighs.

Yeah, great.

You spend the rest of the evening recalling the last couple of hours in your head over and over again. Hange and Erwin ended up meeting you both back at the hospital and after a quick overview of what happened, both parties went their separate ways with Erwin and Levi staying at the hospital for a little longer. He said he would update you on news of his mom’s status when he got any. It was a very awkward goodbye, to say the least. Thankfully Hange had not asked any questions of what had transpired but you notice their not-so-subtle glances at the new accessory adorning your neck. You had spent a couple hours of tossing and turning in your bed as you replayed every word that was said tonight until finally you were lulled asleep into the late hours.

☆AN ➼ This chapter was so long that I won't be surprised if I missed anything lol. Anyways, I hope y'all liked it despite it being so long (my b) and I appreciate you taking the time to read my delusions. ALSO We're getting closer to the end. I'm aiming to end it on June but we'll see how it goes. The next chapter is going to be all fluff and I am SO excited. Have a great day/night and as always, please like and reblog so I know I'm doing something right. Love y'all k bye. ☆

☾ Previous Chapter: February

☾ Next Chapter: April

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teaandfiction-28 · 2 years

Note

I'm so excited for this, honestly want to choose all of them but for now, could you please write something with Smut 8?

Can't wait to read it 💙💙

Knew I could count on you for the smut @acdassenza - a girl after my own heart!! 💛 Really hope you enjoy.

—————————

Prompt: “Why don’t you put that mouth to better use?”

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: Plenty of smut, very brief mention of attempted rape [18+ only].

Timeline: For those of you following the stories, this one shot is set between Chapters 14 and 15 of Perfect Storm. For those who haven’t read the books yet (I totally recommend you do!), for a bit of context, Hank and Kate are together but they are yet to tell the rest of the unit.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

Hank simply lifted both eyebrows, his tongue tracing along his teeth just as it always did when he was making an effort to reign in his infamous temper. He could feel both Antonio and Alvin’s eyes boring holes into the side of his head and he knew that both of them were silently wondering how he was going to handle such a blatant show of disrespect.

“You’re just going to let that prick walk?” She seethed, her bright hazel eyes alight with a fiery rage as she stared him down, the air between them crackling with tension.

She knew just as well as he did that, in this job, sometimes you had to do things you didn’t want to do. And, unfortunately, this was one of those times. The order to release the perverted scumbag currently in their custody had come from the very top, all because his father was wealthy and was fortunate enough the have both the Mayor and the Chief of Police on speed dial. It wasn’t like he relished the idea of letting an attempted rapist skate away without a care in the world but his hands were tied.

He held her gaze for a few more beats before turning towards Alvin and Antonio.

“You give us a minute?”

His tone was low with a lethal lilt that rooted Antonio to the spot for a few moments longer than he should have but he eventually succumbed to Alvin’s not-so-gentle prodding and reluctantly left Hank’s office, casting a concerned glance at Kate over his shoulder as he passed. She was still breathing heavy with barely suppressed anger when she heard the door close behind her with a quiet click, indicating that they were now very much alone.

Hank turned his eyes back to her face but, instead of his usually warm russet orbs, they were a deep shade of umber, making it almost impossible to differentiate the pupil from the iris.

That was the very second Kate knew she’d fucked up. Royally.

They’d been sleeping together for a few months and, aside from the gigantic cock-up with Kevin and his CI, they been very much on the same page...until now.

“You think it’s okay to talk to me like that in front of my subordinates?” He said quietly, the muscle in his jaw beginning to twitch with barely suppressed anger.

“I-”

She had barely opened her mouth to respond when he slammed a fist onto his desk, hard enough to topple both his nameplate and the single picture frame and the sudden movement succeeded in startling Kate into silence.

“If the next words out of your mouth are anything but ‘no Sarg’, we’re gonna have a real problem.”

The only silver lining was that it had been Alvin and Antonio bearing witness to the verbal assault she had aimed his way. If she had pulled that stunt in front of any of the others, he wouldn’t have had a choice but to give her yet another written warning which would have resulted in formal disciplinary action. Action that could potentially see her removed from the unit and, as far as he was concerned, that wasn’t a viable option. Not only did it give him peace of mind to have her close, she was a first-class detective and there was no way he was going to give her up to Vice or the Gang Unit without a fight.

“You know...” He muttered, slowly pushing to his feet and rounding his desk. “...one of these days your smart mouth is going to get you into hot water, you know that?”

The sound of the lock sliding into place had Kate swallowing thickly, her eyes trained on the blinds behind his desk. She didn’t need to turn around to know that he was slowly advancing on her like a predator stalking its prey. His scent invaded her senses long before his lips touched the base of her neck, the familiar earthy aroma mixed with a hint of citrus and leather that she had come to associate with him permeating the air around her.

Nuzzling his face into the soft patch of skin behind her ear, he grasped her by the waist and spun her to face him, instantly seizing her lips with his in a hard, savage kiss. Two sets of hands moved at a frenetic pace, touching, grabbing and pulling at whatever they could reach in an effort to draw the other closer.

Not one to be outdone by his aggressive ministrations, Kate sucked his lower lip into her mouth, laving it with her tongue before biting down sharply; not hard enough to draw blood but certainly hard enough to leave the abused flesh swollen and tender. Gripping the fabric of his navy button-up in both fists, Kate pushed him around his desk until she was able to shove him back down into his chair and drop to her knees before him.

“This what you want Sarg?” She murmured, glancing up at him through thick lashes as she ran her palms over his denim-clad thighs. “You want me to obey you, is that it?”

His response died on his tongue when she swiftly unbuckled his belt and, with deft fingers, popped the button on his jeans and tugged the zipper down, immediately dipping a hand into his boxers to draw out his rock hard length.

“Here’s an idea.” He growled, fisting her wavy locks into a makeshift ponytail. “Why don’t you put that mouth to better use, hmm?”

All of her previous anger seemed to dissipate when she peered up the length of his body to find the man she had taken to her bed almost every night for the past few months staring intently back at her, emerging from behind the tough exterior that he presented to the rest of the world.

“Who knew you were full of such good ideas?” She muttered with a saucy wink, grasping his length in her soft palm and, with perfectly pursed lips, she blew a stream of cool air over the tip of his cock, barely containing her smug grin when his hips instinctively jerked towards her in search of sweet friction.

Hank’s eyes almost disappeared into the back of his head when she took the wide crest of him into the molten cavern of her mouth, her tongue tracking over each of the prominent veins in turn. She bought him to the edge embarrassingly quickly and, as he began to throb and pulse in her mouth, she fluttered her tongue just beneath the swollen tip and he spilled himself into her mouth with a quiet grunt of satisfaction, his hips arching into small, jerky thrusts until she had swallowed everything he had to offer.

She eventually drew his slowly-softening length from her mouth, her tongue swiping over her lower lip as she tucked him back into his jeans with a surprising amount of gentleness given how their encounter had started. He reached out and helped her to her feet, tugging her down for a long, passionate kiss, suddenly entirely unwilling to let her go.

“We’ll talk about this again later.” He said quietly, brushing a stray curl away from her face tenderly when they eventually parted.

“Yes sir.”

With a final peck to his lips, she slowly moved towards the door, waiting until Hank was done righting his clothing before she slipped back the lock and moved into the bullpen. All conversations stopped mid-flow and six pairs of eyes darted between her and Hank who was hovering in the doorway, his stern expression a million miles from the look of pure ecstasy he had worn not minutes earlier.

"Everybody back to work. I want all of your reports on my desk before you leave.”

Just as he was about the close the door, he caught Alvin’s quirked eyebrow from across the room and, as he took a large bite of his half-eaten banana with a wry grin, Hank had a sinking feeling that his best friend knew exactly what he had been up to behind closed doors.

#hank voight #hank voight fanfiction #hank voight one shot #hank voight smut #hank voight x ofc #smut #one chicago fanfiction #chicago pd fanfiction

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humanoidalien27 · 1 year

Text

Content warning: talking about death, regret and a nice dash of heart wrenching pain. (This is one of the darker stories I've written. So, I apologize for all the trigger warnings.)

....

Chapter 12

Determination

Starring out the window, Sebastian barely noticed Felix talking to Fig. The faces of his friends haunted his mind as your voice echoed the last thing you said to him.

"I absolutely hate you Sebastian."

His chest twisted as his fists tightened again.

"Sebastian?" Felix asked, resting a hand on his shoulder, only to be smacked off. "I know it hurts-"

"Hurts?" He asked sharply, now glaring at Felix, eyes so close to yours it only added to it. "If I had blocked that spell instead of dodging it, they'd be alive. Their deaths are my fault."

Felix watched his face crumble as he glanced at Fig, who looked helplessly at his former student.

"She died hating me!"

Felix sighed softly, knowing what he was about to say wasn't going to help, but it needed to be said. "It seems the killing curse doesn't kill as painlessly as you thought, does it?"

Sebastian practically fell to the table, his fingers digging into his scalp.

"That is the price of using dark magic. You get hurt, the people you care about get hurt. She and Ominis cared for you-"

"They hated me."

Felix gave a slight smile. "You don't put your back to someone you can't trust. Their backs were to you."

Felix startled as Sebastian began to sob. "I didn't know. I didn't know they were there."

Moving close, he carefully pulled the teenager into an awkward side hug, his own emotions spilling out onto his cheeks.

That night, Sebastian snapped his wand in half. A silent way of telling himself never to touch or defend those spells ever again.

He didn't want to be tied to it or reminded of it.

Sitting still for a moment before his eyes fell onto your bag, the place he stowed yours and Ominis's wands.

He pulled it closer and reached inside, finding more than he bargained for.

He, instead of a wand, pulled out a box that was wrapped in green paper with a silver bow.

Curious, he turned it over, seeing his name written on it was his birthday.

Felix's words about you carrying about him filtered through as he opened it.

Inside was a book filled with painted artwork on enchanted canvases. The first two had you, Anne and Ominis, though it didn't speak. The enchantment was just to make them move.

The next page had Poppy and Natsai. As he continued, it slowly progressed into the teachers and finally random ones of her and Ominis. The last page had him, back in the fifth year.

He glared at the bright smile on his painted self's face.

He shut the book, before reaching in again, finding another present. This time he assumed it was a Christmas present. It was a book of ancient curses, with a page bookmarked, so he opened it, seeing a note slipped inside saying it was Anne's curse cure.

You had found it a few weeks after she had died and forgot about the note when you put it in the box.

The next thing to come out of the bag was a letter written to him.

-I know you'll never see these, but I can't help myself. Being your friend hasn't been easy and loving you, even harder. I think I've just gotten used you not being around, which seems worse in a way. Ominis is helping, though I sense he knows I'm lying half the time and is too polite to point it out. The truth is that it's been months and I can't stop these feelings for you. A part of me wants to wish them away, but they're all I have left of you. The only thing that I feel tethers me to you. I wish I could go back to that day we dueled and change the way everything went afterwards. I wonder if you felt the same or if this is just a silly dream of mine. I'll never be able to tell you to your face, not after everything, but I love you Sebastian. I never stopped and I miss you deeply.-

He quickly wiped the droplets that splashed down, away before it smeared the ink as his eyes moved to the date seeing you wrote this a week before visiting Azkaban.

Breaking down, he had to stop digging and went to bed, or at least pretended to.

Felix accio-ed the wands from the bag, but Fig's and Miriam's came with them.

"Who's are these?" Felix asked.

"She kept my wand?" Fig asked surprised.

Sebastian nodded and showed Miriam's. "Both of yours."

He stared at the wands, each belong to a wizard who died before their time.

Felix watched Sebastian grab your wand and stow it in place of his own.

"What happened to yours?"

"I broke it."

He nodded and moved to grab a box from behind the table. "Here. I'm giving these to you. Do with them what you will. I'm going on a very long trip." He placed it down and grabbed his bag. "I need to get my mind off things."

Before Sebastian could reply, Felix turned into his animagus form and flew out the open window.

Staring at the paper, which read about the Minister's downfall, Sebastian felt more alone than he ever did in his cell.

"I'm sorry," he whispered to nobody as he laid his head down on the table.

By the time he woke up, it was dark out and the house was way too quiet. His eyes moved to the parcel, he pulled it close and carefully opened it seeing a necklace on a letter floating in the middle of the box.

He reached in and grabbed it, his fingers brushing against something soft.

He pinched the air, finding cloth and pulled it free from the box revealing an invisibility cloak.

He draped it over his lap and pulled the letter free from the necklace.

-I know you regret many things that's happened and though I know I shouldn't, I'm giving you that chance to change it all. But remember that worse things can happen as well as it changing for good. Messing around with time is always dangerous. It's your choice.

Do take care of my cloak, it's been in my family for generations. The necklace is a time turner, I'm sure you've read all about them and know how to work them. The turner does not have the ministry restrictions on it, I won't get into why I have it, but do take care not to be seen by your past self unless in disguise.

If you decide to live this life the way it is, simply leave both in the box and it will apperate to me. Good luck Sebastian.-

Blinking, he took to time turner out and inspected it.

He had infact read about these items before, but he was doubting if he was even able to save people. All he's seemed to ever do, was get them killed.

"Living a life of regret isn't easy," Fig said, drawing his eyes. "When I lost Miriam, a part of me died with her. By the look on your face, it was the same with her."

Sebastian nodded slowly, though he missed Anne and Ominis just as much.

"I know that somewhere, they wouldn't want you to do this-"

A smile creeped up on his lips. "When was I ever able turned away by someone not wanting me to do something?"

"That was also your downfall," Fig added quickly.

"But it won't be my younger self's habit. Not if I managed to change certain things."

Picking up the cloak and the necklace, he headed towards the bedroom to grab a few things he may need as determination burned brightly in his eyes.

....

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #fanfiction #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x you #anne sallow #ominis gaunt #eleazar fig

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donutloverxo · 3 years

Text

Good little wife

Note - Inspired by a request I got long ago and written for the happy hoelidays challenge I'm cohosting with my sister hoes @navybrat817 and @stargazingfangirl18 . I used the prompts two idiots in love + Character A loves Christmas. Character B hates it. A melts Bs cold heart Dividers by @firefly-graphics .

Summary - Your husband makes up to you for being a Grinch and a meanie to you throughout your marriage.

Warnings - 18+ only, smut(m/f), dub con, older man/younger woman, arranged marrige, leaking nudes, daddy kink, blood play, virginity/innocence kink, loss of virginity, virgin reader, painful sex, misogyny, mob activities.

Pairing - Mob!Andy Barber x reader

Word count - 8k

“You look beautiful, cookie,” your mother raved, pressing her lips to your cheek, “He’s a lucky man.”

You only hummed. Staring at your refection, seeing someone you didn’t even recognize.

Your white lace dress somewhat conservative, still really pretty, something you would’ve been more than happy to wear if your circumstances weren’t so depressing.

You almost let out a sardonic laugh, you didn’t get to choose your husband but at least you chose your wedding gown.

“It’ll be alright,” your mother picked at your hair, noticing your evident sadness, you’ve never been one to hide how you feel anyway, “you’ll learn to love him. He’s very successful.”

“I always thought ‘money doesn’t make you happy',” something she had said to you so many times over the years.

“That’s just a fairy tale. People fall out of love, run out of things to talk about, men cheat, in the end all that’s left is how well he can provide for you,” she stated.

You checked your phone as soon as you could, going through your messages to see if your boyfriend, or rather your now ex boyfriend, had sent you anything. You still naively hoped that he'd come on a white horse and sweep you off and away, so you wouldn’t have to marry someone you’ve else. So you wouldn’t have to give up your freedom forever and just be someone’s wife.

But you saw nothing. He hadn’t talked to you, not since your father found out about you both. Since he was from a family your daddy hated with a passion, and you were supposed to as well, your father made you cut all times with him. Locked you in your room in a timeout till you came to your senses.

After over three weeks he came to you, telling you how he was ready to forgive you and move on. You were so happy. For a minute you let yourself believe that this was your father, he loved you unconditionally, of course he'd set aside whatever vain feud he has and let you be with your love.

All your hopes were crushed when he told you he had selected a husband for you whom you have to marry in just a month. That you had to drop out of college since you wouldn’t need that degree anyway.

You always did believe that he had your best interests at heart, you wanted to believe it this time as well, but you just couldn’t.

Cringing inwardly when he kissed your cheeks, “You look beautiful,” he told you, cold eyes staring at you, “Don’t try anything stupid. Andrew is a good man,” he looped your arm in with his.

“He’s more than a decade older than me,” you argued, biting your lip as he squeezed your arm to warn you.

You slapped a fake smile on your face, walking down, one step after another as everyone looked at you in awe.

This is supposed to be the happiest day of your life...

But when you looked at Andy waiting for you at the alter you felt nothing but grave anxiety which made your teeth clatter, his palms joined together at his front, he did look handsome with his tux and neat beard. You have had a crush on him for a long time but you’ve never even had a real conversation with him, you didn’t know him. No one did.

Your heart filled with dread as your father handed you over to Andy, patting him on his shoulder, “Take good care of her.”

“I will,” Andy smiled.

You weren’t really there, maybe your body was but your soul had left you to maybe make the whole ordeal less painful. The priest read the vows asking you if you were ready to take him as your husband forever.

“I do,” since you had no other choice.

“I do,” he repeated.

You felt a shiver jolt up your spine when his fingers grazed yours, putting the thin silver band on your finger before lifting your veil to press his lips to yours, giving you a chaste, barely there kiss as everyone cheered you on.

The rest of the evening was a blur, you could barely register what had happened, everyone sweetly calling you ‘Mrs Barber’ only making you more nervous.

Andy however, was cordial and formal as always, shaking their hands and thanking them.

Since you hadn’t really taken any dance lessons you were left to simply wing it with him at your first dance. With your clammy hands in his you tried to match his pace as he lead you, bumping into his feet with yours more than once.

He leaned in to whisper in your ear, “Relax,” making you shudder.

You looked up at him, he had barely said two words to you but your grandmother often said ‘Eyes are the windows to the soul’.

And Andy’s eyes were so... kind, like a blue ocean you could happily drown in. He almost looked at you as if he were fond of you.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad...

You didn’t really expect Andy to carry you over the threshold, that was just a silly little fantasy you’ve always had and you knew he’d never indulge you in it but he didn’t even hold the door open for you.

You looked around his condo, so grey and boring, looked like it was out of a magazine catalogue, you felt so out of place there.

Naturally, you followed him to his bedroom, watching him wake his coat off, followed by his cuffs as he rolled his sleeves up.

You went over what you wanted to say in your head, how do you tell your husband that you’re a virgin, on your wedding night--that was something your grandmother never gave you advice on. You could’ve used her wisdom then.

With your mouth suddenly dry you tried to speak as he poured himself a drink, “Um... I’ve...”

“What?” he looked at you, quirking a brown brow up.

“Nothing,” you shook your head as you took a seat on the edge of the bed. “This is a nice house.”

“You can take the guestroom,” he said bluntly.

“What?”

“You can take the guestroom. I’ve already put all your bags there, you can decorate it however you like but don’t touch anything else.”

“But I...I’ve never heard of husband and wife sleeping in different rooms.”

“That’s true, it is unusual. This is not a normal marriage though, is it?” His tone so frustratingly patronising, as if he was talking to a child.

You’ve never really been appreciated for your mind, women never are--not where you come from, even your love Alex only ever thought of you as a ‘pretty face’. But Andy didn’t need to spell it out for you, “You... don’t want me...” you realised.

He only scoffed. He’d never been one for long term relationships, he had tried but he could never give himself to another person, women often called him emotionally unavailable, his demanding and dangerous job did contribute a lot to that, but more than that it was his unwillingness to change. He was self aware enough to know that but he didn’t need anyone else. He didn’t want to be tied down or to have a nagging immature wife.

“But why...” you wondered. Sure, you weren’t thrilled to marry him, but now you had accepted it and wanted to make the best of your new life. You thought he wanted the same.

“Why would I want you?” he spat. “ You’re nothing but a spoilt rich girl who’s had everything handed to her. Who was ungrateful and stupid enough to fraternize with the enemy.”

You let out a shaky exhale, looking at him with teary eyes, “I loved him...”

“You don’t know the first thing about love,” he rolled his eyes.

“He loved me too! But I’m willing to put that behind me. I made a vow to you.”

“You really don’t know, do you?”

“Know what?” you frowned.

He took his phone out of his pocket, opening his gallery to show you the compromising pictures you had sent to your ex, “He shared that with everyone, it was all just a ploy to humiliate your father.”

You gasped, taking his phone in your trembling hand, your breasts exposed as you shyly looked at the camera. You had flat out refused to send him a nude when he asked for it but then he threatened to break up with you, to go after your best friend, even called you a prude because you hadn’t slept with him. At the moment you felt as if you had no choice but to do it...

“He wouldn’t,” you sobbed.

“And because of your stupidity I had to marry you since no one else would ever want you,” he said. But then regretted it as you just started crying harder. He thought of maybe trying to console you but what would he even say?

He took the phone from you before you could even think of deleting the photos. He used them to pleasure himself almost every night. Maybe he was an idiot, he could have the real thing, yet he was pushing you away, “Go to your room,” he told you which made you sob even moreso.

You looked up at him, begging him for a hug, for some sort of comfort or sympathy but his face was cold and harsh. Finally gathering your wits you went to the other room, ready to cry yourself to sleep.

No matter how beautiful you were, you were still thrusted upon him, you didn’t love him, you never could because you never even had a choice

“Perfect,” you beamed, setting down the chicken pot pie you had just cooked up.

Your grandmama had always told you that a wife should be a cook in the kitchen and a whore in the bedroom. So that her man would never stray.

And while you hadn’t had a chance to be a whore for Andy... something that you were looking forward to, you hoped the fresh home cooked meal, the holiday season and decorations you had spent the past few days working on would put him in the mood. To maybe accept you as his wife.

For the past six months you had tried everything, making him breakfast, packing his lunch, offering him massages, even trying to help him with his work but he was always so cold to you.

You feared that this is how it will be forever. He would never love you, not the way you’ve always loved him. Even when he was so cruel towards you.

But you were nothing if not resilient. So you said chuck it and went all out. Decorating your whole house, with a real tree for the past few days while Andy was out on a work trip for thanksgiving. Maybe you could surprise him and he’d realise just how much he lucked out with you.

You even went with a more risqué outfit than you usually would. Your little emerald green skirt with pleats was a bit too short and impractical for the cold winters but you were going to stay inside anyway. It was topped off with a tight burgundy blouse and a push up bra which made your girls look enticing and some red pumps.

With a pumpkin pie for dessert in the oven, your salads done and the gingerbread flavored candles lit up you were good to go.

So you sat on the couch, watching 'A Christmas story' for the hundredth time to kill time till he gets home and to distract your nervous mind.

After ninety minutes the movie was over but Andy still wasn’t home. You tried calling him but it kept going to voicemail.

Frustrated, but determined to follow through with your ‘Seduce Andy Barber’ plan you put on another movie, chewing your lip till it bled as you impatiently waited for him.

Soon it was midnight, your food got cold and the rumbling in your tummy became more prominent so you decide to eat your dinner, put the leftovers in the freezer and cut your losses.

You were almost done with your dishes when your husband coming into the apartment, turning around you saw him hang his coat on the back of the chair and plomp down on it. He groaned, pulling the sleeves of his shirt up to reveal his bulky forearms.

“You’re home,” you said, taking off your apron so he could see your little get up.

He didn’t smile at you like you expected he would, he didn’t say ‘Good job’ like you thought he would. He certainly didn’t look like he wanted to bend you over the dining table and take you then and there. He simply frowned at you. Looking at you as if your mere existence offended him.

“I told you; you were allowed to decorate your room however you liked. Not the whole apartment,” he growled, rubbing a hand over his face.

“What? I did it for you... I thought you would like it, ” you stood there, dumbfounded, shifting from one foot to another, “You don’t like Christmas.” You realised.

“No, I don’t. Christmas isn’t all fun and jolly for everybody. I’ve never had anyone to celebrate it with,” he did you a once over, his pants tightening uncomfortably as he took in your little ensemble.

He had never had a single good Christmas in his whole life. He’d usually spend it either working or drinking. But now, he had you, his good little wife who had gone out of her way to do all this just for him.

He could kiss your red lips then and there, finally do what he’s been wanting to go for the past few months and make love to you, eat the delicious meal you had made him because he was fucking starving.

But then he realized how easily you could be taken away from him. How this was all so fickle.

“Do you want a divorce?” he crossed his hands over his chest, as if daring you to give a wrong answer, “If you do, I’ll give you one right now.”

“I - ” you strutted, you didn’t really know, “Daddy would never let that happen.” To which he scoffed.

Your father would kill you both if this marriage failed. He knew that, why would he still be willing to risk everything?

“Where are you going?” you asked when he got up from the chair.

“To my room, to sleep,” he sighed.

He knew what you would say, he knew you were daddy’s little girl who’d die before disappointing her father, which was solely why you were with him, and yet he let himself fall for you and get hurt.

You tugged on his shirt, ready to beg him to at least eat the meal you made for him but then you frowned, inhaling the feminine perfume from his shirt, mixed with his own Cologne, you took a step back, your eyes brimming with tears as you realised he might’ve been with another woman.

While you were home slaving away to make everything perfect for him.

Your father had a handful of mistresses, a few of them younger than you. Your mother knew, all wives know and look the other way. That was how it was supposed to be. It was how you make marriages last...

And your poor beaten heart could take his coldness towards you, it absolutely could not bear him being with another woman. Your father had always praised him for being loyal, and it was one of the things you loved about him...

“Where were you?” you sniffled to keep the tears at bay.

“I was out working. So I could pay for your shopping sprees.” He spat.

You gasped, “I haven’t gone shopping in months! I only did now for Christmas!”

“That tree better be down by the time I wake up. You can out all that crap in your bedroom if you like. I do not what to see it.” He said gravelly, before slamming his door shut.

Something was horribly wrong.

Andy came home to an empty, cold house. You weren’t there to greet him like you usually are, in fact you hadn’t been for the past few weeks. He could hear the TV from your room, some kind of musical playing.

He checked the kitchen for some food, you used to make dinner every night, rave about your love for cooking and baking, but now it seemed that you lived on poptarts and McDonald’s.

He knocked on your door, to ask if you wanted some of the alfredo he was cooking up, also to maybe get you to have dinner with him.

Ever since he had married you, he had such a beautiful companion to have dinner with. To watch silly romcoms with, someone who waited for him to come home, called him all worried when he was late, asked him how his day was

It’d break his heart to say good night to you, you’d give him those puppy eyes, fluttering your lashes as if begging him to invite you to bed with him.

He wanted to ask you to come, to feel what it would be like to snuggle up with your soft body, to smell your hair, to finally fuck you, but he’d just go away to sleep in his cold bed with a heavy heart. Making do with his hand as he thought of you, it wouldn’t feel nearly as good as you would but it would have to do.

“Can I come in, honey?” he asked.

Letting himself in when no answer came from you. You were lying on your bed, blankets draped over you, your eyes trained on the television. He looked around your room, he had only been there a couple of times, he had expected to see some kind of winter wonderland since you were such a fan of Christmas.

But it looked just how it usually did... pale pink walls, a queen sized bed, a small closet and a dresser and a vanity. No tree or fairy lights or nut crackers.

He leaned against the door frame. “Did you have dinner?” He wanted to know.

You made some sort of unintelligible noise; which could mean anything. So he asked, “Would you like some pasta? I can’t make it as good as you do but I’ll try.”

“No.” You answered. Still not even looking at him.

“It’s Christmas Eve, do you want to go celebrate with your family?”

You shook your head in response. “No, I think I’ll just stay here.”

He had stolen your brightness and sunshine away, tainting you with his darkness. “Stop it,” he scolded, switching off the TV and standing in front of you to make you listen to him. “Get ready, I’m dropping you off at your fathers. You’re not spending Christmas in bed.”

“What difference does it make?” you huffed.

“Get ready. Right. Now.” He ordered, pulling your blanket away from you.

“No!” you whined. Sitting up, your face heating up with a simmering rage you had harbored for months. “Why do you even care? Do you want to get me out of the house so you could spend Christmas with her?!”

“Who’s her?” he furrowed his brows.

“Your mistress!” you yelled, looking around for something you could hurt him with, you grabbed a hold of your Mrs Bunny, your cute pink stuffie and threw it at his face. “I’m not going anywhere. And you’re not bringing her in to my house!” You said, throwing another stuffie at him which he caught with his hand.

“Honey,” he said, as if he was so disappointed with you, for catching him in his lies and deceit. “I don’t have a mistress. Where would I even find the time for one? All those late nights were spent at the office or in meetings.”

He would be the world’s biggest idiot to get a mistress when he had a wife like you waiting for him at home. A wife he hadn’t even so much as even kissed... given how pouty and tempting your lips looked, he didn’t know how he resisted for so long.

“Don’t call me honey,” you puffed out your cheeks, “And I don’t believe you.”

“Well, what can I do to make you believe me?”

You sighed, laying back down on the bedding, “There’s not much you can do. Except leave me be. I just want to sleep this Christmas away.”

He had to do something to get your spirits up. And since you has thrown away your old decorations he ran to every store in the town, waiting in the queue for hours, calling in as many favors as he could to get some new ones.

While he wasn’t able to get a real Christmas tree, he got a fake one which was a bit smaller than the one you had put up but not all that bad.

You had decorated the apartment with the traditional red, greens and golden he decided to go with a soft pastel pink theme. Hoping that you would like it and forgive him.

He had gotten you couple of gifts, a little babydoll he saw on the internet, it was pink and sexy, he thought of you the moment he saw it. Ordering it for you but he never really gathered enough courage to ask you to wear it. He wrapped it up for you in some festive paper, tying a ribbon around it.

He decided to get as many gifts for you as he could so the tree wouldn’t look so depressing, a Tiffany’s set, an advent calendar from a make up company he knew you liked, a box of cookies and one of chocolates, a new apron with floral patterns and frilly trimmings, some cozy socks, and a surprise gift he had been saving for you.

Looking around the living room, while it wasn’t as good as what you had done with the place he was still proud of what he could pull off in just a couple of hours.

He called out your name before knocking and entering, switching on your bedside lamp he sat next to you, stroking your hair, “Wake up, angel.”

“Seriously, stop it with the petnames,” you said, your voice groggy from sleep and irritated. Because he had only ever said your name with contempt before.

“I’m not going to stop, honey. You’re my wife, I can call you whatever I like.”

“Whatever,” you mumbled, rubbing your sleep away from your eyes.

“I have a surprise for you.” He smiled at you.

And while he had certainly smiled at you before that, when you had said something funny or silly (which you usually did just to see him smile), this one seemed so much brighter and warm.

“What is it?” you sat up. Still a bit crossed with him but excited to see what surprise he had for you.

“You have to come into the living room for that, and promise to stop being a Grinch,” he said, bopping your nose.

You scoffed incredulously, “I’m being a Grinch?! You were the one who made me take everything down in the first place!”

“I know, honey, and I am sorry for that. Hopefully I can make it up to you.” He winked.

You combed your hair, splashing some water on your face and then following him out to see what he had in mind for you.

You all but gasped at the tree in the middle of your living room, so beautiful, the soft glow of the fairy lights illuminated the room, little festive trinklets all over the room.

He had got you a pink stocking with sparkling silver hearts on it. His was a normal red one with ‘Andy' written with a sharpie or a pen. You giggled at that.

“You like it, honey?” he asked.

You nodded, observing the ornaments on your tree, “I do. Thank you so much, Andy. It’s so beautiful, I don’t think anyone’s ever done something so grand for me.”

Your rave gave him the courage to out his hand over your waist, pulling you into him, “I know this doesn’t make up for everything, but it’s start.”

“Yes! I think... I’d like a fresh start,” you beamed up at him

He excused himself to make some hot chocolate for you both, handing you a mug with little heart shaped marshmallows and sprinkles on top of it. You didn’t even realise how you ended up snuggled up next to him on the couch, Elf playing on the TV which he shockingly had never seen before.

“You know... for someone who hates Christmas so much you did a pretty good job saving it!” you giggled, kissing his bearded cheek.

“Well...” he looked down at you, wiping away the mustache the hot chocolate gave you before sucking his thumb off, “I don’t hate it anymore, because I’m not alone,” he said, his thumb pulling on your plump bottom lip.

“Um...” you face heated up as looked away, “You got me gifts!” you screamed a bit overzealous to change the subject, “Can I open one now? Please?! I’m just so excited!”

“Sure,” he murmured, a bit salty that he didn’t get the kiss.

He knelt next to you on the carpet as you pinked one up, shaking it next to your ear, scrunching your nose up so cutely as you tried to decipher what it was.

“Mmm... I can’t tell...”

“Why don’t you just open it?” he asked as his hand caressed your bare thigh, finding himself unable to keep his hands off of you now that he has you.

You ripped at the wrapping paper, opening the box to reveal the skimpy baby pink lingerie he had got you.

You pulled it out of the box and then started stammering, unable to form words once you realised what it was. “Is this... um..”

“Do you like it?”

“Yes, it’s very cute and nice. Do you, want me to wear it for you?”

“If that’s what you want,” he said casually and then shrugged but then regretted it as your face fell and you let. He wasn’t used to half-assing things if he was going to tell you his true feelings, he had to go all out.

Taking a deep breath, “I have to tell you something I’ve been meaning to say for months.”

“What?”

“I... love you,” he looked down at your lap, because he couldn’t bear to look in your eyes if you decided to reject him.

“Oh, Andy!” you beamed, “I love you too! I’ve always loved you,” you crawled on top of him, throwing your arms around his neck you hugged him.

“That’s good then,” he smiled stroking your back, he pulled you back so he could look at your pretty face, cupping your cheek he pressed his lips against yours.

He had only kissed you once, months ago at your wedding, and while it was not bad at all it was too short and formal and distant, nothing compared to how he felt right now. Moulding his lips against yours, kneading the flesh of your ass, you tasted just as sweet as he imagined you would.

You gasped in his mouth when he rutted his erection up into your core. “Andy!” your chest heaving as you felt him pressing against your thigh.

“What do you say you go put that on for me, doll? Hm?” he instructed.

You meekly nodded, grabbing a hold of the lingerie which you just now noticed was so sheer and would not really leave anything to the imagination.

“Come on out quickly now,” his impatience seeping through his voice as he sat on the edge of his, or what would now be both of your marital bed, one leg crossed over the other, his foot tapping against the floor.

His pants already snug, just from imagining what you would look like with the flimsy thing on. It wasn’t as revealing or kinky as some of the other pieces he had seen, but he felt it would match your personality perfectly.

He groaned, calling out your name again, “I’m gonna fucking die of blue balls, if you don’t come out right now, I’m coming in,” he got up to his feet to do just that but then stopped when he heard the knob twist.

One smooth leg peaking out of the bathroom, “Um... promise you wouldn’t make fun of me?” you asked. Your eyes screwed shut, you didn’t really have much of choice but you had never been so vulnerable in front of anyone. You’d hate to not be satisfactory for him.

“I promise,” his face softened, he had to practice some restrain, at least until he breaks you in, “Now come on out.”

You opened the door, your meek eyes fixed on your hardwood floor, your hands hugging your midsection. You blinked when he said nothing for several long, tortuous moments. Peaking a glance up at him you found him staring at you.

“Uh, do you like it?” you asked as your hands played with the helm of the teddy.

He almost scoffed. Like would be an understatement.

He knew pink would be your color. The nightie so short, clinging to your curves, your nipples pebbled against the satiny fabric, you looked like a sweet little doll and a whole fucking meal to devour at the same time. He would burst before he even got to touch you.

“Twirl,” he made the motion with his forefinger to demonstrate it, “Let me look at you better. And hands to your sides.”

You took a deep breath, letting your hands fall, doing as he had asked, your heart hammering in your chest because for the life of you, you couldn’t figure out if he actually liked you.

“Stop there,” he instructed when he got a look at your pert, round butt, the cloth barely covering it, he could see the imprints of the thong you wore.

“What are you thinking?” you asked.

“If I like your front better or your behind.” He almost chuckled at the incredulous gasp you let out. “Alright, look at me again.” Definitely the front, because he could see your beautiful face. Taking his original position on the bedding, “Come here,” he patted his lap.

Like the obedient wife that you aspired to be, you followed, perching yourself up on his lap, your arms around his neck for some support, looking into his lust blown, dark eyes.

You bite your lip when you felt that pressing into your thigh. Unable to bear his intense gaze you hid your face in the crook of his neck.

He hushed you, snuggling your soft body closer to his, his fingers drawing patterns on your hip, “How many men have you been with before?”

It didn’t really matter whatever your answer would be. But he wanted to tell you, that how ever many there were before him won’t matter anymore. From now on you are solely his.

“None,” you whispered so lowly that he almost couldn’t hear you.

“What?” Holding onto your chin so that he could make you look at him, “None? How is that possible?”

“I’ve just been waiting for the right one... I was going to with Alex but then didn’t...” you said as your hands caressed the coarse hair on his jaw.

He hummed, the fact that he would be your one and only, forever, only served to entice him further.

“Have you ever sucked a cock before?” he asked, although he knew the answer.

“No...”

“Don’t worry, I’ll guide you,” he promised, pushing on your shoulders to make you get on your knees.

You hissed at the cold floor, biting into the your calves and knees.

His dainty princess, he grabbed a throw pillow, instructing you to put it under, all the while staring at your cleavage peaking out like a creep.

Your eyes were fixated on his crotch, eager to see what a real penis looks like. You had watched some porn when you were a teen, out of sheer curiosity, but your friends had told you to lower your expectations. That real ones are much smaller and not so aesthetically pleasing.

You all but gasped when he took his cock out of the confines of his sweats, slapping over his abdomen. So big... and thick, with two veins over it, a bright flushed tip leaking with pre-ejaculate, and some soft hair dusted at the base of it.

You tried to stop yourself but then couldn’t help it, your hand shyly touching his tip yanking it down and then releasing it to see what happens. As suspected it flew back over, hard against his tummy, making you giggled.

“Oh gosh...” you slapped a palm over your mouth to stop from laughing.

He scrunched up the hair on the back of your head, yanking your neck back so that he could look at you, “What’s so funny?” he growled.

“Nothing,” you gulped, “It’s all just so strange and new... and exciting...”

He hummed as he took in your words. Grabbing the base of his cock as he rubbed his tip and precum all over your cheeks till your face was positively glowing with his essence.

“You wanna taste it?” he asked, to which you eagerly nodded.

Nudging your pouty lips with his tips before tapping on them when you didn’t get the clue, “Open.”

“Oh,” you said before opening as wide as you could, his length easing into your mouth. You hummed around him, the salty unique taste of him you had never really known before and couldn’t get enough of now.

He was barely halfway through inside you when he touched the back of your throat, he tutted, “Relax your throat,” he told you.

You didn’t really know what he meant but you tried loosening up all your muscles. Choking around him when he pushed in a few more inches.

Most of him was still out but it was as good as it’s gonna get, not that he’d ever complain... no... your mouth was like heaven. He had only known his hand for the past year Or so, and your mouth was almost too much.

Holding onto your face to keep it in place he started thrusting upwards into you, his heart swelling with tears escaped your eyes but you still tried to take more of him, to please him like the good girl that you were.

He stopped his hips, gently slapping your cheek to get your attention, “You always look at me when my dick is in your mouth. Got it?”

Since you couldn’t talk with your mouth full of cock, you just nodded.

You peered up at him innocently, fluttering your lashes, popping him out of your sloppy mouth, “Am I doing it right?” because you truly couldn’t tell.

He chuckled, smoothening a hand down your hair, “More than right... it’s too good but I want to come in your pussy. Maybe I’ll make you swallow my load latter, what do you think?”

“Yes, I’d like that,” you licked your lips to taste more of him.

“Get on the bed,” he ordered.

“Um... can I go fix my face before that,” you rubbed your mouth with the back of your hand, you doubted you looked very pretty to him then.

“No,” he stated, pulling you up by your armpits and all but throwing you on the bed.

You yelped and tried to protest, “I wanna look good for you...”

He pushed your legs apart to make room for him, smirking above you, eyeing you up as if you were a piece of meat, his prey, “This really does look pretty on you...” he rubbed the flimsy spagetti strap between his fingers, “but it’s served it’s purpose.”

You screamed, holding onto his wrists as he ripped the babydoll in two pieces, revealing your breasts to him, he yanked at it, throwing the remains away.

“That’s much better,” he gritted, pinching one of your peaks, capturing it in his mouth and suckling at it to his hearts content.

You pouted as you looked at the torn cloth, a bit upset that he ruined his gift to you. “I really liked that...” you sniffled. But couldn’t really ponder because Andy’s ravenous mouth was sucking hickies all over your breasts.

“I’ll buy you another one. I’ll buy you ten more,” he bit into the side of your breasts, your mewls and whines were like music to his ears.

“Andy...” you heaved, “Don’t leave marks... I have to go to dinner tomorrow to moms...”

He stopped abruptly, propping himself up above you and you were afraid that you had upset him, “You’re my wife now, honey. Your father gave you to me,” his hand snaking down your body, between your legs, he parted your moist lips, the pad of his fingers meeting your little pearl, “I can do whatever I want with you,” he reminded you, pushing a finger into you, “This cunt is mine now, got it?”

“Yess...” you whined as you squirmed under him, the invasion of his finger inside you too alien to your body.

“Which means you ask for permission before you touch yourself, or better yet, don’t touch yourself because that’s my job,” he stated.

“Have you ever made yourself come?” he asked, trailing soft kisses down your body till he settled between your legs, moving the strong of the thing to the side so he could get a better look at your virgin pussy, adding another finger inside you, your snug walls clinging to his digits, “You’re so fucking small. Can barely fit my finger. How will you take my cock,” he teased.

He’d make you take it.

You whimpered at the sting of it, “I’ll try, daddy...” throwing your head back as you massaged your breast.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, looking down at him when he stopped his ministrations, “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” he quirked a brow. “Do you realise what you just called me?”

You simply shook your head because you hadn’t really called him anything, “Andy?”

“No,” he huffed, “You called me daddy, honey.”

You gasped, you didn’t mean to say it out loud! “No...” you shook you head from side to side, trying to pull away from his fingers still knuckle deep inside you, “It can’t be!”

“Oh, but you did,” he laughed, “And you’re gonna say it again. In fact, from now on, when it’s just the two of us that’s the only thing that you will call me. Unless you wanna get punished...”

“Okay...” you said, still a bit unsure of it all.

You had always called him ‘daddy’ in your fantasies. It was maybe a bit expected for it to slip out like that but still so embarrassing. You said it again just to make sure that he actually wanted you to call him that and wasn’t just teasing you.

“Good girl,” he winked, latching his mouth around your clit, fucking you with his fingers as he kept sucking.

“Daddy...” you whined, biting on your hand to muffle some of your noises, a knot building up in the pit of your stomach, “Don’t stop, please!”

You gushed over his mouth, he lapped it all up, making sure nothing went to waste.

“You did good, honey,” he said, your cheeks heating up when you saw his beard glistening with your juices. He rolled your thong down your thick thighs, “You wear this to dinner tomorrow,” he told you. “Since I’m going to be a real husband from now on I pick out what you wear.”

All so he could see you in those pretty flowy dresses you wear sometimes, but you didn’t need to know that.

He hastily pushed his sweats and briefs past his hips, throwing them off the bed before pulling his t-shirt over his head.

You bit your lip at just the sight of him. His shoulders so broad, chest so wide, dark hair dusted all over his chest, you just knew then that all those hours he spent at the gym paid off, you knew he’d be ripped.

But you absolutely did not expect, someone as uptight as him to have numerous tattoos all over his torso.

Something inscribed in Sanskrit on his chest that you didn’t really understand... the logo of your family’s mob on just under his pectoral.

You sat up to get a better look at them, tracing a skull on his bicep that looked much less sophisticated than the others, the lines a bit scribbly, it was already fading.

“That’s the first one,” he interrupted you, “I was a kid back then, got my foster brother to do it.”

You pressed a kiss over it, “I love it.”

His blue eyes beamed at you, he was so beautiful...

“Now for your gift...” he circled your wrist bringing it down to his pelvis.

“Hm?” you looked down, tears brimming up in your eyes as you saw your name written on just beside his hipbone, next to his hard cock, standing tall against his stomach. In a small heart, dark ink against his pale skin, “When did you get it done?” you sniffles, touching his skin to feel the texture of the tattoo.

“A few weeks ago. I just... I’ve never belonged to anyone. Never had a family of my own. But now I have you, and you have me, I’m just as much yours as you’re mine,” he confessed, finally feeling the weight of it lifted off his shoulders. You were a blessing in disguise.

“I love you,” you beamed up at him.

“I love you too, doll, now come on,” he pushed you till you were on your back, “Daddy’s waited long enough. Can’t wiat to fill you up, make you mine.”

He planted a hand on the mattress, so he could see what he was doing to your virgin cunt, look at you and her, as he defiles you and makes you a woman, his thick manhood nudging your glistening lips as he eased into you, he felt you stretching around him, your face twisted in pain as you begged him to go easy on you, he halted when he felt your barrier.

He looked up at your pretty face, sparkling with his spend and your tears, your sweet little whimpers filled the room, he stayed still for a moment to let you get used to him, he knew he should take it easy.

His wife was a delicate, fragile, sweet little girl. He should be more gentle. A better husband and man would be. But he had his whole life to become a good man for you, tonight he just wanted to take what was rightfully his.

Letting out a deep, almost animalistic growl, piercing through your seal, your innocence till you were screeching, your nails drawing blood from the sides of his thighs.

“It hurts!” you screamed.

“It’ll only hurt for a little bit, doll. Just ride through it,” he cooed, stroking your sensitive clit to draw your attention away from the pain, he withdrew his hips before snapping them back till he was deep within your womb.

“You’re so snug, honey,” he grunted, not letting up his pace as he kept fucking into you,

A proud smirk gracing his face as he looked down to see himself covered in blood, a sticky mess of both your bodily fluids where your sexes were joined. His dick somehow grew harder inside you knowing how he took something from you that you’ll never be able to give someone else.

Slowly your crying and whining was subsiding as you got used to have him inside you, but he wanted to hear you scream for him in a different way. “Don’t you want to make your husband, no, your daddy happy, honey?” He asked, each word punctuated with a deep, harsh thrust into you.

You nodded, willing your tears away, cringing when you saw his crotch covered in your blood, “Yes I do, daddy. What do I do?”

“Your cute dumb brain always needs to be told what to do,” he chuckled, moving closer to you he circled his palms around your wrists, pinning them above you, “Wrap your legs around me.”

You followed along, wrapping your legs around his hips and hooking them together on his back. Closing your eyes when you felt your body seizing up, your pussy pulsating around his length when you felt the familiar feeling creep up on you.

“Look at me!” he barked and you immediately opened your eyes, “You look at me when I fuck you.”

You gulped and dared not close your eyes again. Even as you felt your orgasm wash over you, clenching around his length. His face was scrunched up, his neck, face and chest flush as he chased his own release till you felt his warm release coating your walls.

He collapsed above you, panting beside you he kissed your hair, “You liked that, babygirl?”

You let out a meek little yes. Feeling empty and void of his warmth and hardness when he pulled out of you before settling next to you.

“But...” you trailed off. Not finding it in you to bare yourself to him like that just yet.

“But what?” he whipped his head to look at you.

“But I’m sorry if I wasn’t very good!” Since you had simple laid there and took whatever he gave you. You had heard that men don’t like that...

“Don’t worry, honey, you were absolutely perfect,” he sighed. “You’ll get even better with practice, we’re gonna practice a lot from now on.”

You tried to cover your breasts up with the comforter, still awkward about being stark naked right next to a man, a man who looked as good as like Andy, but he swatted at your hands, reprimanding you and telling you to stay still and let him look at you to his hearts content.

Soon you felt your cunt throbbing back up again, still so raw from the loving Andy gave it, you tried rubbing your legs together to ease it a little bit.

“It still hurts?” Andy asked as you nodded.

He snaked a hand between your legs, massaging your little nub and your lips, tutting when you tried to pull away from his touch, “Shh I’m trying to make it hurt less.”

He hummed when he saw his seed leak out of you, pushing a finger in you, much to your displeasure, to keep it inside you, where it belonged.

He would make you go on some form of birth control as soon as he could. While the idea of you all round and plump with his kid was more than appealing, he didn’t want to share you with anyone else just yet. You were young, he had plenty of years to breed you.

“You’d make a good mother,” he wondered out loud.

“Hm?” you blinked at him. Squirming from the torture he was yielding on your overworked sex. His lips curled up in a twisted smile as he pulled his fingers out of you, wiping your blood on your soft nipples, painting them crimson as you shivered.

You looked at his cock, hard again against his stomach. “Does it hurt?” you asked, your hands twitching to touch it again.

“Yes, it does. Do you wanna help me get rid of the pain?”

“Mm... can I use my mouth again? I’m sore...”

“It’s okay, honey, you’ll get used to it,” he promised, grabbing your hips and pulling you on top of him, your palms pressed into his abdomen as you looked so wrecked, “Guide me in,” he ordered.

You shook your head which earned you a harsh slap on your ass so you held onto the base of his cock, parting your intimate lips, before slowly sinking down on him.

You sighed as you settled, sitting on top of him with his cock nestled inside you, so full and strangely satisfied, his warmth soothing your aching walls, he spanked you again to remind you to move, so you started bouncing on top of him the best you could.

His hand groped at your bouncing titts before he wrapped a hand around your throat, applying the slightest bit of pressure as you whimpered and cried, just to remind you who’s in charge, not that you’d forget anytime soon.

His only regret was that he hadn’t done this sooner. He was an idiot to ever resist an angel like you. He’ll have to do a lot to make up for lost time.

Tags will be in the reblog! Click the link in the bio to be join the taglist or shoot me an ask/dm. Comments and reblogs are really appreciated! ❤❤

Please note that my work is not to be reposted or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 account without my permission. Reblogs are most welcome though!

#happyhoelidays2020 #andy barber x oc #andy barber x y/n #steve rogers x reader #andy barber x reader #andy x reader #chris evans x reader #defending jacob fanfic #mob!andy barber

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saintshigaraki · 3 years

Text

HERE, IN THE MORNING LIGHT, IS WHERE WE’LL BARE OUR SOULS

pairing: ushijima wakatoshi x f!reader

words: 3.2k

excerpt: Really, how many times can you blame Ushijima for breaking your heart when you’re the one who can’t seem to stop handing it to him -- on a silver fucking platter no less.

a/n: this is...a bit too similar to my bakugou drabble i’ll admit. but i could see a relationship with ushijima having some of the same problems. he’s not purposely cruel, but god, doesn’t that just make it so much worse?

tags: angst, mentions of alcohol, implied sex, reader is full of rage, ambiguous/open ending

in case you want to read it on ao3!

You greet Toshi at the door, as you’ve made a habit of doing when he manages to come home before you’ve fallen asleep.

(Like a well-trained dog, you think, with only the most bitter sort of amusement.)

When you lift your hand up to cup his face, a sweet hello, love, how was your day? on your lips, he sweeps it aside (gently, of course. He's always so sickeningly gentle when he brushes you aside. You think that might just make the hollow sting of his nonchalant rejection that much worse.)

“Have you made anything for dinner?” he asks, already walking away before you have a chance to pull him down for a kiss. Your arm falls unceremoniously at your side. A deadweight, swinging.

I think I might hate you, you want to say, so, so badly. The words are there, right on the tip of your tongue as you stand frozen in the darkened entryway, his shadow stretches, eclipsing you, as he walks further and further away.

But these moments of sweet burning-hot rage pass as quickly as they come and soon -- too soon, maybe, or not soon enough -- you find yourself turning on your heels and shining a too-bright smile, the one that shows too many teeth and leaves an ache in your cheeks.

“Not yet, love, but I can whip up something real quick.”

The words taste like lead in your mouth.

(Or maybe that's just the blood from biting your tongue.)

Who knows, you muse, bitterly, bitingly. What does it matter anyway?

You make your way towards the kitchen.

Later that night, after he’s finished fucking you into the mattress, he grunts out an I love you, before rolling over and promptly falling asleep.

His cum is sticky and uncomfortable as it cools on your burning thighs.

You stare at the lights sweeping across the ceiling from the passing cars and try to remember days when you didn’t feel as though someone had hollowed out everything that made you and filled in the empty space with barely contained rage.

Rationally, you know you weren’t always so unhappy with Ushijima. You loved him -- you still do -- you have for years. You could barely contain your tears of joy when he asked you to marry him and you didn’t manage to contain them at all the day you officially tied the knot.

You were so happy then. So, so, happy.

What happened?

(You know exactly what happened.)

You’ve made sacrifice after sacrifice for him. Moved from country to country. Left your family and friends behind more times than you can count. Because you love Toshi. Because you love him more than anything. And because he loves you, though you know he doesn’t love you more than anything. It’s a selfish gripe to have. A rather dumb one too. Of course he doesn’t love you more than volleyball. Why should he? He’s dedicated his whole life to the sport. Countless hours, countless injuries, and setbacks, and he’s persevered through it all because that's what he does. Because that sport, that court, that stupid fucking ball, is what he loves above all else.

It’s not as if you jumped into this marriage wholly and totally blind. You’re not dumb. You knew volleyball was going to be a priority in his life, the priority. And you thought you could handle that. You did handle it. For 5 years you’ve handled it, the constant moving, the last minute canceled plans, the weeks of him traveling that have left you all alone for near months at a time in a cold home with a cold bed. You’ve handled it all with a too-wide smile plastered painfully across your face.

But things have -- shifted, recently. Maybe it’s the pressure of what could very well be his last Olympics coming up in these next few years, maybe it’s the fear of someone younger, better, stronger than him taking his place, or maybe, he simply doesn’t give all that much of a fuck about you anymore.

(You know that’s not true. Wakatoshi loves you. You know that. Which is what makes this all so much worse.)

I love you, isn’t that enough? he’d said bluntly, and maybe a bit confused, last time you brought up your concerns after the third canceled date in a row.

His words had made you pause. Was it enough? Why isn’t it enough? Shouldn’t it be enough?

At the time, you’d thought, maybe. Maybe I can make it enough.

A year later and you’ve come to the realization that it simply -- isn’t enough. Maybe if you were a different person, a slightly better person, it’d be enough. But you’re not. You’re you, a strange, toxic concoction of hollow fury and selfish desires (for comfort, for love, for anything more than whatever this is).

You roll over on your side to face your husband. He’s on his back, like he always is when he sleeps, completely dead to the world.

He’s statuesque, unmovable, untouchable, even now.

You gently brush your finger over his brow, sweeping his hair to the side, and tracing his strong jawline. You’ve done this a thousand times. You’ve memorized every curve, every freckle, every scar. You’ve mapped countless constellations across his skin.

You don’t hate him, you realize, in the dark suffocating silence of the night. Not yet, at least. There’s still too much love for him in your heart. Still too many memories of brighter days. Sweeter days. Gentler days.

He’s been good to you. As good as a man like him is capable of being. And you love him so, so dearly for it.

He has tomorrow off, maybe -- maybe you should talk to him. There’s still time to salvage this. There’s still so much love for him in your heart, enough to drive out the hate. You know it.

He has tomorrow off, you repeat to yourself. The first full day he’s taken off in a month.

You’ll talk to him then.

You have to.

The morning light is what wakes you. The gentle rays kiss your cheeks so sweetly.

Without fully opening your eyes, you reach towards Ushi only to be met with -- cool sheets.

Your stomach drops painfully and it's as though he’s taken your heart in his hands and just squeezed.

You open your eyes, wearily, tiredly, and the morning light no longer seems so sweet. It’s mocking. A cruel, bitter reminder of better days and broken promises.

You crawl out of bed, trying to stay optimistic -- maybe he just went for a morning jog -- even though you know that on days he has off he likes to sleep in. You try desperately to give him the benefit of the doubt, because he promised and you want so badly to still be able to believe him, even after everything.

He used to have every Saturday and Sunday free, then around three years ago it turned into every Sunday, then a year and a half ago it turned into every other Sunday, and recently -- well, it’s been a while. A long, long while.

But he promised he’d stay home today.

He promised, you repeat as you stumble around the apartment only to find it painfully silent, empty, and so, so cold.

You collapse on the couch, hunched over, your head hanging pitifully into your hands. You take a deep, pathetically shaky breath.

And then you laugh.

You laugh so hard you nearly heave.

Two years ago, you would’ve cried. A year ago, you would’ve screamed.

But now? Who do you really have to blame, but yourself? How can you not laugh? How can you not laugh at just how stupid and gullible you are?

Really, how many times can you blame Ushijima for breaking your heart when you’re the one who can’t seem to stop handing it to him -- on a silver fucking platter no less.

This is your fault. And it has been for a long while now.

It’s time to move on.

You book a one-way flight home -- you haven’t been back in so long. Too long, you know. You stuff as much as you can into your single suitcase and pitiful carry-on bag. It’s all strangely methodical and robotic. You’re calmer than you’ve been in months.

This is how it was always going to end. Honestly, you don’t think there was really supposed to be another option, any other way out. You don’t think this mess was ever going to be fixed. It was stupid of you to ever believe otherwise.

By the time you’ve managed to compose yourself, get your affairs in order, and meticulously pack away as much as you can, the sun has started to dip below the horizon.

The clock reads 9:18 PM. Your flight is in a few hours. You’ll have to get going soon.

You pick out the nicest, most expensive bottle of red wine in your home. You were going to save it for when Ushi made the national team again but, as you’ve learned rather painfully, sometimes plans change.

You pour yourself a glass, but in the end, can’t bring yourself to take a single sip.

That’s how Ushi finds you, sitting at the kitchen table, toying with a glass of wine. There’s only the lone kitchen light lit in the apartment. The shadows dance around him, dark and monstrous, ready to swallow you both whole.

Wakatoshi has never been particularly skilled at reading social cues but you can tell from the slight tilt of his head that he knows somethings wrong. You wonder if he knows exactly how wrong.

(Not that it would really change anything if he did.)

The thud of his gym bag hitting the floor echoes too loudly in the silent apartment.

He steps into the kitchen like he does all other things -- with purpose, with confidence. It will never not leave you in awe, even now, how sure he always is of himself. He’s a blunt force weapon, he always has been, and you can’t imagine a time where he’ll be anything but.

He stops at the opposite end of the table. It’s the beginning of the same song and dance you two have done time and time again when he breaks his little promises.

His big ones too.

(You think of when he had missed your five-year anniversary dinner for a last-minute practice. He hadn’t forgotten about the reservation, he’d told you after he’d returned home to you sitting alone at the kitchen table, half-drunk and livid, but people were relying on him, is what he’d said, and there’s always next year.)

This routine is comforting, if only in the cruelest way.

We can put on a show, just this last time, you think. For old time’s sake.

Your eyes fall back down to your glass as you speak. “You said you’d stay home today.”

You look back up just in time to see him opening his mouth. No doubt getting ready to cycle through the same set of excuses he’s been using for the past four years.

A teammate called.

I needed the extra practice.

There’s a skill I need to perfect.

The Olympics are 4 years away...3 years away...2 years away....you know that, love.

And, of course, no matter his reason, his excuse, he always makes sure to add, I’ll stay home next Sunday, I promise.

He doesn’t intend for that last part to be cruel, you’re sure of it, but God, if that doesn’t make it so much worse.

You cut him off before he can even start. “You promised.”

His brows furrow at your exhausted, weary tone. “There was a team meeting today, I’m sorry I forgot to mention it to you. It went on longer than I expected it would. We can still go out to dinner if you’d like.”

You give him a sad sort of smile. You’re too tired to give him any other. “I don’t think I’ll have time for that, love.”

Ushijima’s left brow twitches, as it always does when he doesn’t quite understand what’s going on.

He takes a step forward, around the table. “What do you mean? Are you going out tonight?”

You shake your head softly. “No, Toshi.”

You can’t help but wish more than anything, that it didn’t have to come to this, because you have loved him so much, so deeply, and you think that for it to end like this is a disservice to you both.

His jaw clenches, no doubt already trying to contain his frustration. He’s probably tired after his long day. An argument over something like this is probably the last thing he wants. A good wife would care more. A good wife might’ve persevered, smiled through her husband's little lies and shattered promises. A good wife might’ve tried harder. A good wife might’ve dug her heels in, instead of letting go completely.

But you’re not a good wife. Not now, at least. For all you know, you never were. You’ve always been just a bit too bitter, too selfish, too flawed. Not willing enough to throw yourself on the metaphorical altar for him.

He’s close enough now that he can see the suitcase at your side. It stops him dead in his tracks.

“What’s going on?” His tone is hard, demanding, but you know him too well to miss the fear that pulls at the corner of his eyes.

Ushijima Wakatoshi is a lot of things. But he’s certainly not dumb. He has to know what’s going on. He has to have known that, eventually, this was what was going to happen.

You stand up slowly, bracing your palms against the rough wood of the tabletop.

“I-” you let out a harsh, mean breath. You hate that you’re doing this. But you’d hate yourself more if you didn’t. And you know you’d grow to hate him too, eventually, if you stay. You’re burning up here in this home, each broken promise and cold night add fuel to the already raging fire. You’ll be nothing but ashes soon enough. “I can’t do this anymore, Wakatoshi.”

His pretty olive eyes narrow. The look he gives you is practically glacial. His fury has always been so, so cold. A stark contrast to your burning rage.

He takes a deep breath. “I don’t understand.” His words are slow, methodical, and too even.

They crack open something violent inside your chest, something with teeth. Something mean and ugly and so, so sad.

Too many years of biting your tongue have culminated into this moment. It’s time to strip yourself to the bone, to the ugly marrow. No matter how painful or awful.

Don’t you two deserve that, at least? Don’t you two deserve to part ways having seen the worst of each other?

“Of course you don’t understand, Ushijima,” you spit out, caustic and cruel. “How can you?” The laugh you let out is ripped from the very bottom of your heart, mean and poisonous. “Or more accurately, why would you? Why would you even bother understanding? It’s not like my unhappiness has ever really meant anything to you before-”

He cuts in sharply. “You know that’s not true.”

“No,” you hiss. “I don’t. How can I? I’ve been miserable for years now, left to beg for scraps of your attention like a fucking dog. I’ve reduced myself to this pathetic creature. I-” tears cloud your vision, far faster than you can blink them away. “I don’t even recognize myself anymore, Ushijima. I’m so--I’m so angry all the time and if I stay here that’s going to be all that’s left of me.”

It’s silent after your outburst and in the air is something awful and too great. You’re both teetering on the edge of something terrifying.

“If you stay with me, you mean,” he says, finally, and far too soft for a man like him. All signs of his previous fury have fled and in his eyes is a painful sort of vulnerability.

Your anger dissipates with his, mostly because you’re so fucking tired of being angry.

Is it really his fault, anyway? What exactly were you expecting of him, when you took his last name? Were you really wanting him to change something so fundamental, so ingrained in his soul, just for you? How unfair of you, you realize now, how cruel.

“Toshi.” You’re exhausted. And so sick of being second best. “This is more my fault than it is yours. I thought I could handle what being married to you would entail but I was,” -- you laugh, far less biting than before-- “very wrong.” You close your eyes, unable to look at him. “And now I suppose we’re both paying the price for it.”

“I love you,” he says, bluntly. “And you love me.”

You’re finally able to meet his eyes again. You take in the planes of his face, the subtle pain etched into every corner, a brutal, beautiful reflection of the years you’ve spent by his side.

“I do love you, Ushijima. More than anything.”

“Then why are you doing this?”

You swallow hard. “Sometimes, that just isn’t enough, Toshi. Relationships require more than love. They require work, and compromise, and some semblance of care and dedication, and you just-- you just don’t have the time for that right now, and I understand that. But I can’t keep doing this to myself. I deserve-” you stop and give yourself a moment to choose your words carefully, lovingly because you’re desperate for him to just understand. “We deserve better, don’t you think?”

He shakes his head, his hair falls in his eyes. You sweep it aside, a force of habit after all these years, something you’ve done a million and one times. Before you can jerk your arm back he grips it in his large hand. His fingers wrap around your wrist, unyielding.

“I need you,” Toshi says, uncharacteristically desperate. You can feel the heat radiating off his chest. It's a twisted sort of comfort. Knowing this may very well be the last time you’ll be in this position.

You smile, sweetly and a bit sadly. “No, you don’t, Ushi. You need volleyball. You need the thrill of the game and the taste of victory but you don’t need me. You’ve never needed me. And that’s okay.” You lift your other hand up to brush the stray tear that’s fallen from his eye. He nuzzles into your palm before you can move it, clinging to you like some sort of lifeline. “It’ll be okay, Toshi, we’ve just reached the end of our road. That’s all.”

He raises a shaky hand to trace the dried tracks of tears on your cheek, it’s startling to see him so uncomposed. “Please,” he nearly begs, “don’t do this.”

In your heart, there’s an odd brew of grief and rage and pain and love so mean you know you’ll feel the ache of it for years to come.

You think of all the shattered promises he’s left at your feet, you think of the gentle way he’s held you through the years, you think of his string of nonchalant rejection, you think of yourself, bright and burning.

Your mind spins from it and all you can do is rest your head against his chest and close your eyes.

a/n pt 2: there is some untapped potential in the fed up housewife genre and i am determined to unearth it. also i love ushi i promise i think he’d be a great husband under most circumstances

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi #haikyuu angst #hq #hq x reader #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu scenarios #ushijima x y/n #ushijima x you #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x you #vicwrites #vicwriteshq

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hlizr50 · 3 years

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Aggressive Affirmation

My first Elorcan fic, y'all. And it's smut.

It wasn't supposed to be smutty, but things escalated.

I'm not sorry.

Lorcan is sick and tired of Elide not acknowledging the incredible things that she has done. She doesn't give herself enough credit, doesn't see what she has to offer the home she hopes to rebuild. Lorcan encourages her to admit that she is intelligent, brave, and strong.

Read on AO3

Lorcan hadn’t even attempted to hide his wide grin when Elide had agreed to ride with him. It still surprised him that he could feel so carefree with her, so comfortable with letting his emotions dance across his features. But it was only for her. She had torn down every wall, crashed through every locked door, even faced death to earn his vulnerability. And he would pay it back in spades.

The midnight-haired beauty had rolled her eyes, still seemingly unaware of how her proximity to him could spark such an exuberant reaction. Lorcan found it difficult to understand how she didn’t presume she was the most incredible thing to have happened in the many years of his life, a strong woman in possession of near-bottomless bravery, fierce intelligence, and unbreakable dedication to the people and land she loved.

The journey would not be the longest they had together, though it would most certainly be the safest. Lorcan allowed himself to relax, as much as he could, and enjoy the feeling of the woman wrapped in his arms.

His wife.

The last time they had ridden like this he had been at death’s door, Elide urging the mount onward toward the keep at Anielle. What a relief it was to be with her now – to wrap his arms around her. As if to remind himself of what she felt like, his hand widened across her stomach, fingers stretching to feel as much of her as he could. Lorcan was pleased to find that her ribs were no longer so present below the tunic she wore, their time in Orynth slowly erasing the effects of months – perhaps years – of scarce food and near constant fear.

Soft strands, black as his own, brushed over his hands as he held Elide tighter against him. She turned her head, tilting her chin up to cast him a sidelong glance.

“What are you doing?” Her question was reflected in those fathomless eyes that he swore he could drown in. Lorcan grinned, dipping his chin to brush his lips over her forehead.

“Just thinking, wife,” he answered. “Of the last time we were on a horse like this, after you rode out into hell even when the mightiest of soldiers were retreating into that keep.” Elide’s lashes lowered as she looked away, as she often did when confronted with her own strength. “And how you thought up the plan that would defeat Erawan. And how you ran him through to keep him immobile so Yrene could finish him off.”

Silence was his only answer.

Lorcan sighed but let the quiet persist. His thumb traced back and forth over her abdomen, a motion that was meant to be soothing to her, but seemed to bring him comfort, as well. A spring breeze whispered past them, carrying the chirping of birds and the rustle of leaves on the trees lining the road. And echoing louder than any of the sounds of their journey was his wife’s silence.

“Elide.”

She didn’t answer, but she turned her head again and traced her fingers over his forearm.

“What’s wrong?” he prodded.

“Nothing,” she murmured, even as he felt her tense against his chest.

“You lie,” Lorcan crooned. “I know you better than I used to, Elide. You may be the cunning liar that thawed my cold heart, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to let it go. Tell me what’s bothering you.” His wife heaved a sigh, sagging into him.

“I am… anxious. About returning to Perranth,” she mumbled, turning her face forward again. His brows furrowed, lips pursing in confusion. Returning home, finding her queen, and rebuilding the city had been her aim as long as he’d known her – likely far longer.

“Tell me why.”

And just like that her back was straight again, shoulders tense, the small space between their bodies like a chasm. Lorcan’s eyes narrowed.

“Elide.”

Still she didn’t answer.

And judging from her reaction to his praise moments before, knowing her, Lorcan had a sneaking suspicion that he knew why she was hesitant. It grated against him, how little she thought of herself – how she refused to acknowledge her many feats of bravery and strength.

A snarl rumbled through his chest as he swung down from the saddle. He grabbed Elide before she had the chance to give a startled yelp and tossed her, gently, over his shoulder.

“Lorcan! What in the gods names are you doing?!” she shrieked. Ignoring her protest, he turned to their travel companions and dipped his chin.

“We’ll catch up,” he grumbled with a scowl before stalking off toward the tree line. This nonsense needed to end, sooner rather than later.

“Lorcan Lochan, you put me down this instant!”

His lips ticked up at his new surname, and he was glad she couldn’t see his amusement. He found a small clearing, a boulder jutting out of the grass. Schooling his features, he carried the still-grumbling woman to the rock, pulling her back over his shoulder and plopping her gently atop it.

“Why?” he demanded, eyes boring into her midnight pools that darkened with confusion. Lorcan released a frustrated sigh. “Why don’t you see your own worth, Elide?” He studied her with a frown as her eyes widened and her lips parted in a gasp.

“Lorcan?” she breathed. He ran a hand through hair that had become unruly in his less-than-graceful prowl into the woods. Then, taking a deep breath, he cupped her cheeks, allowing callused thumbs to graze over her high cheekbones.

“Do you think you’re strong, Elide?” Her eyes narrowed as she stared back at him, uncertainty painted across her pale features. Her answer, however, came quickly and assuredly – proof to the male that her belief was deep and unyielding.

“No.”

Lorcan flinched.

He lowered his gaze, doing all in his power to keep his breathing even. It was all he could do not to pace across the clearing in anger and frustration. “Elide-“

“I’m a cripple, Lorcan.” Her voice trembled slightly, and his eyes shot back to hers. They were hard. Uncompromising. As if her perceived weakness was just an unfortunate truth that she had come to terms with. Gods, it enraged him so – that she had practically been raised to believe that she had such little value. “I can barely walk, much less fight. I was a prisoner in my own home. For years. And after that I was little more than a slave. For ten years I was only allowed to live because someone else willed it. And in those ten years I did nothing for Perranth, for Terrasen. And what have I to offer now?” Lorcan cursed the shimmer of silver in her lashes as she pulled his hands away from her face and lowered her chin.

“I can’t even read, Lorcan,” she whispered wetly, her delicate hands clutching his. With a growl he pulled his hands away, fisting them in his hair as he, indeed, began stalking back and forth across the clearing. His ire was a living thing, writhing under his skin. What he would give to have her uncle in front of him now, so Lorcan could tear him apart like he deserved.

“Are you angry with me?”

The roaring in his head ceased in an instant, the timid question ringing clear as a bell through the heat boiling in his blood. He practically ran back to her, grabbing her face again.

“I’m not angry with you, love. Never. But it is absolutely infuriating that you believe it. That you have been made to believe it” Lorcan leaned pressed his forehead against hers. “You, Elide Lochan, are one of the strongest people I’ve ever known. I have fought beside fae and humans, men and women, the legendary and the ordinary. You are brave and strong and so incredibly clever.”

The lithe woman in his grasp opened her mouth to argue, but he pushed her chin back up.

“It…” He swallowed, realizing the vulnerability he was about to show. “It hurts me, Elide. When you just dismiss all the amazing things you’ve done. When you speak as if you have nothing to offer your queen, your home. When I found you, you were walking to Terrasen. And I have no doubt you would have made it. You picked up an axe against the Ilken. You rode out into the hell of Anielle in the face of certain death. You concocted the plan that defeated Erawan. Someone who is weak would not have done any of those things.”

Elide’s eyes bore into his, wide and shimmering. He leaned away, trailing his hands down her arms until he could link their fingers. Lorcan didn’t dare break that gaze, didn’t want to.

“Please. Please, try to acknowledge that. For me.”

“Well that’s not fair,” she laughed, tilting her head back. “Not when you put it that way.”

“I never said I would fight fair, wife,” Lorcan chuckled, then leaned in to capture her lips in a kiss, moaning when she immediately opened up to him. He explored her with his tongue – he would never get tired of her mouth on his.

Elide pulled back, breathing ragged. “We should probably get back,” she sighed. “They probably think we’re doing any number of questionable things.”

His large hands found her hips and tugged her to him, earning a startled giggle. “Well I would hate for them to be wrong.” He kissed her again, sliding his fingers below the band of her breeches. She gasped against his lips, and he snickered in response.

“Lorcan,” she hissed as his lips moved to her jaw, planting kisses up the sharp line. A murmured ‘mmmm’ was his only response as his fingers deftly unknotted the ties to her pants. “Lorcan, people will talk!”

“Let them talk.” His voice was like silk against the shell of her ear. “There is nothing wrong with a male wanting to pleasure his wife.” Elide’s hands fisted his hair, and he slid a hand between her legs to dip a finger into her. He felt her soft cry vibrate against his lips at her throat as his finger slid further, finding heat and wetness. “It would seem that your protests aren’t entirely heartfelt, Elide,” he purred against her neck, inserting a second finger.

“Oh Gods!” she panted. With a growl, he lifted his head and crushed his mouth over hers – a possessive, demanding kiss. He pistoned his fingers inside her, bringing the heels of his palm to rub against that sensitive bud. She mewled against his lips, and he pumped his fingers deeper as he swallowed every gasp and moan that lifted from her throat. Lorcan pulled back, watching Elide’s delicate flushed features lift and scrunch, reacting to the pleasure he was giving her. He wrapped his arm around her, supporting the small of her back with a hand that nearly spread the entire width of her body. When he brushed his callused thumb over that bundle of nerves, he felt her body tremor against him.

“How do you feel, wife?” he snickered, fingers never faltering. Her breathing became increasingly erratic, those little noises growing more frantic.

“Godsdammit,” she cried. He plunged his fingers as deep as they could go and held them there, then flicked his thumb across her again. Her hips bucked as she howled.

“If you want to cum, you will do as I say,” Lorcan growled, a feral grin spreading his lips. “Do you want to cum, Elide?” He wiggled his fingers inside her for emphasis.

“Yes! Gods, Lorcan,” she groaned. He started pumping inside her again, slowly and deliberately. He leaned in so his lips brushed right under her ear.

“Tell me that you are brave, Elide,” he crooned, continuing his ministrations.

“Wh-what?” Elide panted, pleasure and arousal clouding her comprehension of his request. He flicked his thumb over her again, her body convulsing.

“Tell. Me,” he demanded. He could feel her body shuddering around him, and he kept his rhythm slow and steady, drawing out her pleasure and forcing her to wait for her release.

“I- I’m brave!” Her voice cracked as her breath sawed in and out of her. “Lorcan!”

“Tell me you’re intelligent,” he murmured, pace increasing ever so slightly. Elide moaned, a guttural sound from her chest.

“I’m intelligent! Gods, please Lorcan,” she begged. Her fingers clung desperately to his shoulders, and he felt her trembling as she rode his hand.

“Tell me that you are strong, Elide.” His mouth dipped to the soft, sensitive skin below her ear, suckling there as he curled his fingers inside her. “Say it, love.”

“I- I… I am strong!” she gasped. Satisfaction rumbled through his chest. Her frantic pants surrounded him as he unleashed himself, long fingers pumping and thumb grinding into her most sensitive spot.

“Yes, you are. Now cum for me,” Lorcan groaned against her before lifting his head, watching his wife as she rode his fingers. A reverent smile graced his features as she finally found her release with a hoarse scream. Pulling her panting form against him he tucked her head under his chin, a hand stroking through her hair and over her back while he pulled his other hand away from between her thighs. “You are strong. You are beautiful. Perranth is lucky to have such a woman to lead them, and the world is fortunate that you saw fit to help save it. Never forget that.” He pressed his lips to her hair as he listened to her breathing return to normal.

“I love you, Lorcan Lochan.” Elide’s contented sigh vibrated against his chest, dainty fingers tracing soft paths over his stomach. How long had he lived, never knowing that happiness like this could exist for him?

“I love hearing that name. Knowing it’s mine.” Lorcan pushed her shoulders, gently pulling them apart so he could press a soft kiss to her lips. “I love you, Elida Lochan.” Reaching down, he tightened the laces to her breeches. He knew the rest of the ride probably wouldn’t be the most comfortable, and he cursed inwardly that he had been so impatient that he hadn’t at least thought that it would be better to just take them off. “We’ll find an inn tonight. Get you a proper bath. Get these clothes washed.”

A dusting of pink colored her cheeks, realization of why she would need those things heating her face. Lorcan chuckled and stood, letting a hand graze her jaw and tuck a lock of onyx silk behind her ear. “Come, wife,” he declared as he swept her up in his arms, cradling Elide against him as he started walking toward the road. She giggled, winding her arms around his neck and craning to plant a kiss on his cheek. Lorcan smiled down at her, grateful for the path that had led him to her. Grateful that their futures were forever intertwined.

“Let’s get you home, Lady of Perranth.”

Tag list: @tealnymph-writes @trashforazriel @secretlovelybeauty @meher-sumedha @imsointobooks @positivewitch @tanvee1231 @imwritingthesewords @camreadsum @vikingmagic33 @shisingh @gwynrielsupremacist @sagureads @katiebellf @deedz-thrillerkilller16 @sv0430

*NOTE* I used the tag list that I have used for all my other fanfic posts, but those have all been ACOTAR. If you would like to not be tagged in Throne of Glass or From Blood and Ash posts, please let me know. Otherwise, I will continue to use the same tag list for all of my fanfic posts!

#throne of glass #throne of glass fanfiction #elorcan #Elorcan fanfiction #Elorcan smut #lorcan salvaterre #elide x lorcan #elide lochan #ao3 #ao3fic #ao3 fanfic #fanfiction

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mothandpidgeon · 3 years

Text

REPUTATION - Chapter 1

Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!reader

Words: 3615

Rating: T

Warnings: slowest of burns, gender swapped characters, TOUCHING HANDS, no us of y/n

Summary: After scandal damages your reputation, you are finished with society. But a mysterious bachelor by the name of Mr. Djarin has a reputation of his own. And you are determined to keep yourself from getting mixed up with him.

A/N: So after THAT LOOK I know we are all working on our Darcy fics. I feel very intimidated to give it a go when so many talented writers are going to be doing it better but I really haven’t been able to think about anything else.

Also please forgive any historical inaccuracies. I hate those even when they’re on purpose so let’s just agree to ignore them.

And thanks @pascalslittlebrat for taking a look at this and listening to all of my feelings.

MASTERLIST

You used to enjoy going to balls. You used to feel excitement when you got dressed in a fine white gown, your hair set elegantly with little silk flowers. Your heart would race when you would arrive and see all of the gentlemen in their finery. And dancing. There was a time when you could stay on your feet all night, drinking in the attention of all the eligible bachelors.

Those days were long gone. Now you felt a rock in the pit of your stomach the entire time. You counted the moments until you could leave. You couldn’t even bother to put on a pleasant expression, spending entire evenings sullen and taciturn. But at least this was the last ball you had to drag yourself to this season.

You had been forced to spend yet another season in town. This time you had the company of your younger cousin Julia, though her older sister Emma was a difficult chaperone. And tonight you were being hosted by Captain Charles Dune and his wife Lady Georgiana Karga. They threw wonderful parties– at least you had enjoyed them when you enjoyed those things. It was a masquerade ball which meant Julia had picked out a dainty little mask for you to wear. You couldn’t be bothered to choose one yourself but Julia had an eye for this sort of thing. And you liked the creamy white bow that she tied into your hair.

Julia was looking forward to tonight. She was very popular despite being related to you, containing all of the traits a man would want in a wife– good looks, excellent conversational skills, and a talent at the piano forte. She had a number of young men constantly calling on her and her dance card was practically full before she had even gotten into the carriage.

“You look so pretty!” she insisted, though she was probably admiring the work she had done to make you presentable.

Emma was looking forward to being finished with you. She had been married for three years and fancied herself an authority on the subject. She spent much of her time lecturing you on the proper way to comport yourself. Tonight she was just trying to get you to quit sulking.

“Would you at least try to be sociable?” Emma requested with a frown.

“I don’t much see the point,” you huffed. “Do you really believe I’ll get a proposal at the last ball of the season?”

“Lady Georgiana has invited an old friend of the captain’s,” Emma encouraged. “Mr. Djarin. She says he’s quite admirable.”

You rolled your eyes. You both knew you were headed for spinsterhood. Emma had lost her mind if she thought that she was going to pawn you off on some aged, paunchy bachelor.

The ball went exactly as you had expected. You watched Julia dance and laugh. You stood by as Emma talked animatedly when she wasn’t giving you sharp looks. Though there were gentlemen without partners, no one asked you to dance aside from Captain Dune and a few of the unlucky young men he could press into service.

Even now at the end of the season, where so many engagements had been made, you could still feel the eyes on you, the whispers behind hands. It was as if they thought the masks covered their looks of derision. You knew what they were saying, why they snickered and turned away.

It was all because of your broken engagement to Mr. Vanth. There was no returning from a situation like that. You had been cast aside and all of the ton could enjoy surmising the reasons. Your reputation was in shambles.

But it wasn’t the fact that he had gone and married some heiress not two months after he’d given you up that made it all so painful. What had really destroyed you was the fact that you’d let yourself love him. He wasn’t the best choice though he was handsome and had enough income to keep you comfortable. But you had given your heart to him and he had crushed it. And you looked like an utter fool for it.

For some reason, tonight it all stung. You’d learned to drown out the comments and ignore the sideways glances. But here you were, closing yet another season, as single as the day you’d come out. You’d begged your poor mother to let you stay at home in the country so that you wouldn’t have to suffer these indignities. It was pathetic that you had even shown up in London. But she had insisted, had assured you that you were still desirable, still attractive and spirited.

You certainly didn’t feel that way now. You snatched up a glass of wine from a nearby valet and drank it down in nearly a single gulp. It did little to soothe your nerves.

You needed air. You took another glass and sped towards the garden. The noise and music floated out here but the fresh air was cool and the garden looked quite empty, the vacant pathways lit by torches.

You’d once been so much fun. You’d laughed and smiled. You’d had no worries about your future. Now, not only were you a laughing stock but you would be lucky if you could rely on your cousin’s generosity for the rest of your days lest you end up in the poor house.

Tears were welling up in your eyes. You tore the mask off of your face to wipe them away. With your vision clouded and in the dim of the garden, you didn’t see the man that was standing in the shadows until you’d run right into his back.

You’d hit him with enough force to knock you back a few paces but he hardly flinched. He was tall and broad shouldered and he turned to look at you with curiosity. He was alone, thank heavens. He wore a black tailcoat and under that a waist coat that looked like silver and shined like silk. You didn’t recognize him but, of course, he was wearing a mask like all of the other guests. His was rendered in the same silver fabric with a slim slit for his eyes. A scalloped piece of fabric fell from the bottom of the mask down to his chin so you couldn’t see anything of his face other than his dark eyes.

Once you’d regained your balance you began to stutter an apology.

“Forgive me, sir,” you stammered. “I must mind my step.”

The stranger didn’t say anything, he just continued to look you up and down, the torch light reflected in his eyes. His hair was a mess of dark curls. His stature was imposing and incredibly still. You were so shaken that you suddenly realized how you looked, your face stained with tears and eyes glassy. You felt your cheeks burn with even more embarrassment.

Just as you opened your mouth to give some explanation, a voice came from behind you.

“Djarin! There you are!” Captain Dune called out, as jovial as ever.

You did your best to wipe the tears from your cheeks while the masked man turned his attention away.

Captain Dune sauntered down the path with his wife on his elbow. He was a dark haired, stocky man who still looked quite dashing in his dress uniform. He had been a hero of the Nile and served with your father before his ship had been lost. His round face was adorned with a black mask.

“Ah! I see you’ve met the young lady I told you about,” Dune said.

Lady Georgiana’s bright eyes looked between the two of you from under her leather mask. She was a beautiful woman with dark skin and a wide smile. She had always been kind to you even after the disastrous affair with Mr. Vanth.

“My dear, allow me to introduce Mr. Djarin,” Lady Georgiana said. “He is a very good friend.”

Mr. Djarin gave a tight bow when she introduced you but barely murmured a, “How do you do?”

“What are you doing hiding out here, Djarin? The dancing is inside!” Dune teased.

Mr. Djarin gave a chuckle but he didn’t sound amused.

“Why don’t you ask this young lady for a dance? I’m sure she would lower herself to stand up with you,” the captain continued with a wink.

“I’d better not. Please, you’ll have to excuse me. I should retire,” Mr. Djarin said, his voice deep and raspy.

Your eyes fell to the ground and you swallowed hard. You hoped in the darkness of the garden, Lady Georgiana didn’t catch your upset. Clearly Captain Dune had told him everything about you. Why else would this man be so impolite?

“Oh come now. It’s early, yet,” the captain protested.

“Forgive me. It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” he bowed and took his leave.

“My dear,” Lady Georgiana tried, “you’ll have to forgive Mr. Djarin. He has lived alone for so long that he sometimes forgets his manners.”

You gave her a smile, clenching your jaw so that you would not cry.

“I just had a splendid idea!” Lady Georgiana exclaimed, clapping her hands together. “You should come stay with us at Nevarro Hall. We leave next week. It would be great fun. I do find that part of the country so diverting.”

“You are too kind but I couldn’t impose,” you said politely. You had a feeling this offer only came because Georgiana felt responsible for her friend’s slight.

“Nonsense! You’re quite right that is a grand idea!” the captain agreed.

It was agreed that Lady Georgiana would write to your mother to inform her of the invitation. You knew she wouldn’t disagree considering how kind the Dunes were and how generous an invitation it was. Once the matter was settled, Captain Dune insisted you return to the party and you reluctantly slunk back inside.

Julia was with a gaggle of some friends when you returned to the ballroom. There was some excitement going on between them.

“Did you see him, Lucy?” one of the girls asked.

“I was introduced,” Lucy squealed. “It is a shame he was not here earlier in the season.”

You realized they were talking about Mr. Djarin and you felt yourself frowning.

“You’re not happy with Mr. Calican?” Julia laughed. Lucy had accepted his proposal just yesterday.

“No, of course!” she scoffed.

“What was he like?” Julia asked.

“I’ve heard he has a fine estate,” Lucy said.

“Oh, he was terribly handsome,” the first girl craned her neck to try and spot Mr. Djarin.

You wanted to laugh. You had also been introduced to Mr. Djarin but there was no way of knowing how handsome he was beneath that mask. You might have even ventured to tell them that but Emma joined the group looking disgruntled.

“I have learned some most unsettling news about Mr. Djarin,” she said. “He is traveling with a child who is in his care.”

“What about that offends you so?” Julia rolled her eyes.

“That is just it, Julia. I am told that this young boy is not merely Mr. Djarin’s ward. He is, in fact, his natural child.” This last part she said in a scandalized whisper.

This raised quite a few eyebrows but you furrowed your own.

“You are told?” You responded. “By whom?”

You knew the rumors that had circulated about yourself and had grown to absolutely despise and distrust gossip.

“I have it on good authority,” Emma said, which meant that some busybody had told her.

You shook your head. You hated that you felt the need to defend Mr. Djarin after he’d been so rude to you. If he had a child out of wedlock, one that he paraded around shamelessly, then what right did he have to rebuff you? You reminded yourself that this was merely hearsay. And no one deserved to be slandered like that.

But when you saw the way the other girls eyed you, you remembered yourself. If you protested too much, it would only speak to your own reputation. So you let them prattle on and as soon as you could slip away, you did, and spent the rest of the evening counting the minutes until you could leave and fall into bed.

After such an excruciating time in town, you were happy to be going anywhere else and, selfishly, you were glad that you didn’t need to spend a long carriage ride hearing Julia go on and on about how much she would miss being in town.

Nevarro Hall was situated on a gorgeous estate in a quiet part of the countryside. Lady Georgiana had given you a well appointed room with a view of the grounds. There was a beautiful garden with a fountain in the middle and, beyond that, a manicured lawn. You could see down to the lake and, past that, the tall trees. You spent a week walking the grounds with Lady Georgiana.

You loved to draw and you could set yourself in some corner of the garden and sketch the flowers for hours on end. It was such a wonderful change from the constant noise and hustle of town– the endless parties and calls, Emma herding you around like a prized cow. When the weather was fair, Lady Georgiana would have tea set outside and she and the captain would ask for a tour through your sketchbook and kindly remark on your talents.

“Perhaps you will create a likeness of the captain, my dear,” Lady Georgiana suggested. “If he will sit still enough for you.”

The captain laughed at that remark as the valet presented him with a letter.

“Very good! It seems Djarin will be joining us tomorrow! His business in town is finished,” he said.

You tried to hide your displeasure. You had no interest in sitting through dinners and excruciating evenings with Mr. Djarin. But you had little choice in the matter. And the captain and Lady Karga had been such generous hosts, you wouldn’t insult them by cutting your visit short.

You decided that you would be as polite as necessary but keep away from him as much as possible. This was wise, you told yourself, because your reputation couldn’t suffer any more difficulties. There were plenty of people that would jump at the chance to make even a passing association with Mr. Djarin into a scandal. But, of course, there was still a part of you that smarted at the way he had dismissed you in your very first encounter. You couldn’t be prevailed upon to be pleasant to a man that was so insulting. And so you would not.

Luckily, the first two days, it was easy to avoid Mr. Djarin entirely. The captain had taken him out riding or shooting or some such activity men enjoyed and they had dined out. Lady Georgiana had become a dear companion to you but she had begun to spend far too much time hinting at how much she liked the new guest. You would merely nod and smile and let your mind wander when she started to tell you how agreeable Mr. Djarin was or how he had been such a kind friend to her father.

On the third day, you had complained of a headache so you could excuse yourself from breakfast. After you had the tea and toast that Lady Georgiana had sent up to your room, you insisted a walk would be good for you and you set out across the grounds with your sketchbook.

You decided the stables were a good place to be left alone. It wasn’t like anyone would be looking for you there and, save the horses, there was nobody there. You found a little wooden chair and sat down to draw the horses and tack.

There was a beautiful black mare with white whiskers around her snout that you were sketching when you heard a noise. It was a funny little squeal. You thought you had imagined it until you heard it again. It had come from the empty horse stall at the very end and when you set down your sketchbook to investigate, you found a little boy sitting in the hay.

“Hello,” you said to him.

He smiled up at you. He looked incredibly sweet with chubby little cheeks. His ears seemed too big for his head and his eyes, too, were big and round. He wore a little brown suit with a delicate ruffle around the neck that was now covered in mud and hay.

“What are you doing in here?” you asked him, though he seemed too small to answer.

He babbled at you and held out something in his hand.

“What’s that?”

The child leaned forward, stretching towards you, and dropped it into your hand. It was a little silver ball that jingled like it had a bell within.

“Thank you,” you chuckled.

You shook it and it made a tinkling sound. He clapped his pudgy hands together, then planted them on the ground, and carefully got to his feet. He continued to yammer on as he tottered towards you, falling on his behind once, but determined to reach you on his own.

“Grogu!” You heard a voice from the path outside that you recognized. “Grogu!”

The boy scampered out of the stable and right up to the boot of Mr. Djarin.

“Where have you been, lad? They’re turning the whole house over looking for you,” he said.

He scooped the little boy up, holding his whole body in the crook of his arm, a wide hand grasping the boy’s calf. Grogu put a dirty hand up to Mr. Djarin’s chin and he laughed softly.

Now that you had the benefit of seeing him without a mask, you realized Mr. Djarin was, indeed, quite handsome. He had full lips and a prominent nose. His skin was a shade of gold that complimented his dark eyes. His starched collar met a square jaw that was dotted with stubble. In the sunlight, you could see that his soft curls and thick sideburns were threaded with grey hairs. The smile that spread over his features was so warm, you wished you could capture it in your sketchbook.

This was the infamous child, then. You saw little resemblance between Mr. Djarin and the lad but he held him so tenderly, it made you wonder if the rumors hadn’t been true.

That’s what you were pondering when the boy turned his attention back to you, pointing with a plump little finger. Mr. Djarin’s whole body stiffened when he saw you, his eyes turning sharp.

“Good morning,” you said with a curtsy.

His jaw clenched and he nodded.

“He was playing,” you tried, tilting your head back towards the stable.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I was drawing the horses,” you explained.

His head tilted just slightly.

“Is that his name? Grogu?” You asked when Mr. Djarin failed to speak.

“Yes,” he said.

You smiled. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Grogu.”

You put out your hand and the lad wrapped his fingers around one of yours.

“Ebba!” he cried.

You laughed. When you glanced at Mr. Djarin he was looking at you with an expression you could only describe as fear. Your smile faltered.

“I take it your business was concluded. In a satisfactory manner, I hope?” you inquired politely.

His brow furrowed momentarily and he opened his mouth and then set Grogu down at his feet.

“Yes. I-” he cleared his throat. “Please, you must forgive me for my behavior at the masquerade. Lady Georgiana said that I offended you. That was not my intention.”

You felt heat in your cheeks once again, embarrassment mixed with anger. You couldn’t believe he had to be told that he had acted like an ass. “Not to worry, sir. My pride has already been damaged so thoroughly, what is but one more slight?”

The look that crossed his face was absolute horror. You would have apologized for speaking so plainly but you frankly didn’t care. What right did he have to judge you? To apologize like you were so pitiful when here he was with his love child. You knew what men like Mr. Djarin were like and you’d learned to keep a wide berth.

“I- I should tell them that I’ve found him,” Mr. Djarin said. “Good day.”

He turned to go back up the path.

“Wait!” you called.

You blushed when you realized how impolite it sounded. Mr. Djarin turned carefully but said nothing. You approached him, painfully aware of the way he stared at you. It was difficult to meet his eye. You swallowed and held out the child’s ball to him. Mr. Djarin put out his hand and you placed it in his palm. As you did, your fingertips brushed his hand and you shivered. His skin felt rough and his palm was so large compared to your own. Your breath caught and, for some reason, you wished he would close his fingers around yours. You quickly withdrew your hand.

The boy reached out for the ball with a coo.

“Much obliged,” Mr Djarin managed. He was still looking at you with intense concentration.

Your chest felt tight.

“I’ll let them know at the house,” you stuttered and after a quick curtsy you were rushing back up the path.

--- Chapter 2

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mackeydoodledoo · 3 years

Text

A Captivating Voice

Pairing: Cassandra Dimitrescu x (Fem!)Reader

Summary: Working as a servant in Castle Dimitrescu is already a workload for you. However, one job has finished early and you take the opportunity to get time to yourself and sing out some vocals, with caution. However, a Dimitrescu daughter has been captivated by your angelic voice.

Warnings: Some Angst(??), blood, Fluff/slight nsfw at the end

A/N: Finally have a story for all three Dimitrescu daughters! Still thinking of some ideas for the Lady Dimitrescu herself so hopefully I’ll have one out soon!

Line Without a Hook | If I Could Tell Her

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

6 months....

That's how long it has been since you've been working in Catsle Dimitrescu. It's been a living hell, hearing the faint screams of fellow maidens from down in the dungeons had freaked you out enough.

"Will that be all milady?" You ask

Bela, being at least more sensible than the other two, had asked for your help with whatever it was. You didn't really question her about it, so you just went with it.

"Nope," she says, "is that all you have to do today?"

You nod, "I managed to finish cleaning the east wing early today. Not until dinner, I have nothing else to do Lady Bela."

"Then that is all y/n," she says

You bow your head and begin heading back to your quarters. If anything, with the much time you had before your next task, you immediately grab your acoustic guitar and begin heading to a secret spot. Secret, because no one else knows about it. Although you could have trusted Bela, you also didn't want to risk getting into unnecessary trouble with Lady Dimitrescu. As you climb the walls of the castle, you close the window so they won't know someone went out. You seat yourself along the rooftop, you tune your guitar. It was a warm afternoon. Perfect for a small one-person jam session.

I don't really give a damn About the way you touch me When we're alone You can hold my hand If no one's home Do you like it When I'm away?

From where you just exited, Cassandra walks past the window and hears a faint singing voice. She stops in her tracks and backtrack to the window.

Oh baby I am a wreck When I'm without you I need you here to stay I broke all my bones that day I found you Crying at the lake Was it something I said To make you feel like You're a burden? Oh, and if I could take it all back I swear that I Would pull you From the tide

Cassandra continues listening to your captivating voice. She wanted to open the window to see your face. However, would lead to certain doom if she had done so.

Singing, she's a she's a lady And I am not a boy Singing, she's a she's a lady And I am just a line without a- Oh baby I am a wreck when I'm without you I need you here to stay I broke all my bones that day I found you Crying at the lake Was it something I said To make you feel like You're a burden? Oh and if I could take it all back I swear that I Will pull you from... The tide....

As you finish the last note, you look out to the village you had come from. To be honest, you were a tourist.... Then someway somehow you unknowingly became a servant to Castle Dimitrescu. Well, it was better than death really. However, you made one request; you'd keep one of your possessions, your acoustic guitar. Somehow Lady Dimitrescu was lenient enough for that request to be approved. However, with the rough tasks, you barely touched it since starting your time there. However, it was rare. You'd find some time to yourself before the next task so you found that specific spot outside along the castle where you could feel free enough to play your guitar. As she heard the window beginning to jimmy, she turns into her usual swarm of bugs and hide in the shadows. You open. The window and quickly hop inside and shut the window before you could be noticed. However, just before you could get back to your quarters, you could feel a bug on the back of your hand.

"Oh...... No...." you sigh

You jerk your hand back into you as the bug leaves a scar along it.

"So it was you huh?" Cassandra appears out of the shadows

"L-lady Cassandra," you say, nervously, "I'm-Im sorry if I made any unessecary noises. I'll-I'll promise I won't do it again."

You try to brush past her however, she catches your bleeding hand and brings you in close to her. You could feel your heart beating harder. She raises your hand and she licks off the seeping blood.

"You should play for me some more," she suggests

"Milady?" You ask

"Don't make me repeat myself," She leans in close to your face, menacingly

You nod your head as she lets go of your hand.

"My quarters after dinner," she says, "Not early, not late. Bring that with you. Got it?"

You nod, not willing to argue with her further. She licks your bleeding hand one last time before letting it go and turning into a swarm of bugs. Your heart was beating at an uncomfortable rate. You couldn't find the courage to sneak back out again, so you decided to sit in your quarters until it was dinner.

You followed every single request as best as it can get. You were considered one of the best servants in the castle, according the Lady Dimitrescu. However, as you were pouring Daniela another glass of wine, your fingers had suddenly turned into butter and the bottle slid out of your hands, crashing onto the floor. In a fit of rage Daniela uses her sickle and your reflexes kicked in, you hold your arms up to your face however, she slashes the palm of your hand.

"Keep your dirty mits off her you idiot!" Cassandra yells, grabbing Daniela by the wrists

Another servant comes over to help you clean up as much as possible. You were dismissed by Lady Dimitrescu, but she didn't seem angered. More like, sorrowful.

As you kept your promise to Lady Cassandra, you took your guitar and walked up to the door to her quarters.

"Lady Cassandra?" You call, knocking on the door

"Come in," she calls, monotonus

You open and close the door and notice that she's already in bed, she was on her side, facing you, awaiting for you to seat yourself.

"My apologies for Daniela," she says

"No no my apologies milady, me and my butter fingers," you try to chuckle it off

"Your palm?" She asks

You raid it for the both of you to see. Unfortunately the palm Daniela had sliced was your left palm, in order for you to play to Cassandra was to use your left hand for the notes.

"Oh don't worry milady, I'll be able to manage," you lie

You didn't not want to play because of some stupid injury you brought on yourself. When you tried to play one note, you draw your hand back.

"Let me see your palm y/n," she says calmly

You unwrap your palm and hand it to her.

"How do you know my name?" You ask her

You've barely interacted with her. You've mostly interacted with Bela as she needs your help with whatever it was she needed.

"Bela tells us about the help you bring her when we talk at dinner," Cassandra says, slightly in a jealous tone

Oh, that's fun, Bela likes to run her mouth. You were worried she would have bitten off one of your fingers but, her touch was gentle and soft. You'd think she'd make a fuss about your injured hand. She takes your palm and her tongue gently running itself along the cut. You felt weird about it.... a sadistic woman gently tending your wound. You didn't realize this but when she moves her tongue, the scar was gone, only a silver lining remained.

"How-how did you do that?" You ask her, surprised

"Guess I'm just full of surprises," she flirts

"Well, that makes two of us," you smile, "Any requests?"

"Sing the one you sang when I heard you earlier today," she says

Oh.... That one.... Alright.

"As you wish milady," you sigh, tuning each string

You wanted to leave Cassandra's room with no scars so you take in a deep breath and begin strumming calmly, you wanted it to be gentle and smooth.

I don't really give a damn About the way you touch me When we're alone You can hold my hand If no one's home Do you like it When I'm away?

As you continued singing, you looked behind you and noticed how Cassandra was still facing you, but she looked peaceful. Her eyes were closed as if she was watching you through your voice. Feeling bold, you turned your body so that you're fully sitting on her bed, singing to her.

Cassandra sits up and reveals that she wasn't wearing any form of clothes other than her under garments. You blush at her fine figure but snap your eyesight back up to her facial features.

You strum out the last chord and look up, Cassandra is captivated. You slightly smile, hoping that eased her senses.

"Why haven't you sang to me sooner?" She smiles

"Oh- I'm not sure," you sigh, "I wasn't sure if you would be the kind to like a servant's vocals."

"Same time tomorrow evening," Cassandra demanded, but in a calm voice

"Yes milady," you blush

You swing the guitar against your back however, before you made your leave, Cassandra pulls you back toward her by your wrist, startling you.

"Maybe, I should keep you too," she whispers seductively

Your heart was racing, you couldn't find the right words to say. Even if you did, they wouldn't come out of your mouth correctly, fearing your demise, should you say something.

"Little Angel has her tongue tied," she lowly giggles, "Same time tomorrow angel."

She finally lets you go. With haste, you make your way out of her quarters and back to your quarters until the next morning.

As Cassandra steps into the dining room for breakfast, her sisters and her mother look up at her.

"Somebody sure slept in," Daniela teases

"Good morning to you too dummy," Cassandra groans

"Did you hear that person singing last night?" Bela asks Cassandra

"She has such a beautiful voice how haven't we had her perform for us before?" Daniela asks

"Because it's such a silly task," Lady Dimitrescu says, "However, you are right about her having a lovely voice."

"Do you know who it is Cass?" Daniela asks

"Hmmmm, perhaps," she smiles

"Who is it????" Daniela pleads

"That's for me to know and for you to find out," Cassandra snarls

As you were cleaning Lady Cassandra's room, a song came into your head. You couldn't help but hum along to the chorus that was playing in your head. Any kind of music helps you get the job done easier. You were just about to organize Cassandra's vanity before you hear the sound of buzzing. Here we go again.... As you looked up from the mirror, there she was. You weren't sure if she was checking something on her dress or if she was admiring you.

"Hi little angel," she smiles, coming closer to you, "Did you miss me?"

"More than you could imagine," you flirt back, feeling bold all of a sudden

She turns you around and snakes her arms on both sides of your waist. Your heart began racing once more and you were sure that Cassandra could feel it too.

"Little angel's heart is racing, is it because of me?" She smiles menacingly, leaning close to your face

You put your hands on her shoulders, and lean in. But, before the both of you could do anything, you hear the voice of Lady Dimitrescu calling for her brunette daughter.

"Do you remember what's tonight?" Cassandra asks

"Here, after dinner. Not early, not late," you remember her words from the evening before

"Good girl," she smiles menacingly once more

She turns into her usual swarm of flies and disappears into the castle halls. Good girl.... She just called me a good girl.. You couldn't help but let out a small giggle before facing her vanity once more to organize it.

When you had finished cleaning Cassandra's room, it was cleaning the dining hall before dinner. Fortunately Lady Dimitrescu didn't assign you to be a servant for dinner tonight however, you wouldn't be able to see Cassandra until her requested time to see you. You end up changing into your sleep wear just in case Cassandra decides to keep you in her chambers for the night.

"Milady Cassandra?" You call from the other side of the door, knocking

"Come in love," she says, calmly

You open the door and close like like you did last night and seat yourself at the edge of her bed.

"Any specific songs you would like to hear milady?" You ask, turning your head to her

"Lets make it your pick tonight," she smiles

You blush, as if you were hoping for her to say that. You tune your guitar like clockwork, and begin plucking your strings.

I said There's nothing like your smile Sort of subtle and perfect and real I said You never knew how wonderful That smile could make someone feel

Those weren't the exact lyrics, you changed them to expressing how you felt about Cassandra. Even though you knew she was the sadistic daughter of Castle Dimitrescu, she's shown you otherwise.

But I kept it all inside my head What I saw, I left unsaid And though I wanted to I couldn't talk to you I couldn't find the way But I would always say: If I could tell her Tell her everything I see If I could tell her How she's everything to me But we're a million worlds apart And I don't know how I would even start If I could tell her If I could tell her

You turn your body so that you're facing Cassandra. You again begin strumming like it was your last.

I thought You looked really pretty, er— It looked pretty cool when you put indigo streaks in your hair And I wondered how you learned to dance Like all the rest of the world isn't there But I kept it all inside my head What I saw, I left unsaid If I could tell her Tell her everything I see If I could tell her How she's everything to me But we're a million worlds apart And I don't know how I would even start If I could tell her If I could tell her But what do you do when there's this great divide? She just seemed so far away And what do you do when the distance is too wide? It's like I don't know anything And how do you say I love you? I love you I love you I love you But we're a million worlds apart And I don't know how I would even start If I could tell her If I could

As you strum the final chord, you look up at Cassandra, who was just in a daze as much as you were. You place your guitar against the wall and climb into her lap.

"Y/n?" She asks

Before you or her could question further, your lips crashed against hers and the both of you began fighting for dominance. You didn't want to be bested in a simple kiss. However, it seemed that Cassandra was still caught off guard by your action. Feeling bold,, you stick your tongue into her mouth, hearing a deep moan coming out of her mouth. Oh, but she did you one better, she puts one palm under your arse and the other beginning to run under your bra. You gasp, making you pull away to breathe, you see Cassandra smiling.

"Stay with me draga mea," she pleas

You nod happily as you let yourself fall onto the soft mattress and follow Cassandra under the crimson sheets.

The word got out fairly quickly that you were now Cassandra's lover. However, everyone was supportive about it, especially her sisters and Lady Dimitrescu. Cassandra persuaded her mother to have you play for the entire family when they would come over. However, when the night comes, when its only the two of you would be alone, you'd sing her a song only she would want to hear for herself.

"You captivated me with your voice draga mea," Cassandra whispers as she cuddles her head into the crook of your neck

“Were you now?” You ask

“What was your life like before you came here?” Cassandra asks

“Well, I used to be a musician,” You say, “I traveled the world, street performing and such. But, I’m here and I’m saying it’s not a bad thing though. I’ve come to love being here. Thanks to you.”

Cassandra lifts her head and the both of you give each other a good night kiss.

#cassandra dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu x reader #female reader #bela dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #resident evil village

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ibis-gt · 3 years

Note

*slides you 37 pennies* how would luther handle trying to go on a public date with cam (movie, restaurant, etc.) with the whole… affection turns height to no.

had two requests for this one so here u go! luther does his best to keep it together for date night. 2750 words, warning for brief mention of violence in a movie and some hanky panky between consenting adults. not explicit, just a little spicy.

~~~

Four months into their relationship, and Luther has more of a handle on things now.

He’s got the size thing totally under control. He hardly ever shrinks just because Cam looked at him anymore. He can take a compliment like a champion. Those soft, sweet, gentle smiles that spread across Cam’s face like molasses? Barely make him lose an inch. Physical contact? He’s… still working on that one.

But at the very least they can have date nights in public now, as long as Cam behaves himself, and Cam is quite willing to behave himself. Most of the time.

It’s a snowy Saturday night in December, and they’ve got a date planned. Cam will pick Luther up at eight, they’ll go have dinner at a local sushi place, watch a late night special feature from the 80s, and then come back home for some wine and light snuggling before bed. An absolutely perfect night, if Luther can make it through enough of it full-size.

He’s still debating his outfit when a gentle knock at his front door heralds his beloved’s arrival. Five minutes early as usual.

“It’s open!” Luther calls. “C’mon in and help me choose, will you?” He’s standing in his bedroom in a pair of black slacks with the horrid green jumpsuit undone and tied around his waist, staring critically at his two choices of top. A lovely turquoise turtleneck, or a stylish electric blue button-up. The floor creaks behind him as Cam ambles in. “Which one do you think is better? I guess it depends on what you’re wear - eep!”

Luther squeaks and jumps as Cam presses his lips to Luther’s neck, big warm hands sliding up his arms to rest on his bare shoulders, sending an involuntary shiver down his spine.

“Both look nice,” Cam murmurs in his ear. “But I think I like the blue one better.”

“C-cam,” Luther whines, his face going pink. “If you keep this up we’re not even going to get out the door.” The hands remove themselves, and Cam pulls back, chuckling.

“Sorry. Couldn’t help myself. All that exposed real estate, you know.” He lets out a perfect wolf whistle. God damn him. Luther glares over his shoulder and folds his arms, letting annoyance take over.

“We’ve been planning this for weeks, and you’re going to ruin it,” he pouts. “Go on, out. Wait in the living room if you’re going to be like this.” Cam puts his hands up in a placating gesture and retreats, but that damn smile doesn’t leave his face. Luther tosses his hair and huffs, secretly proud of himself. He didn’t even lose a half inch. He turns back to consider his options.

Well, if Cam is so focused on his neck tonight, that sweater might be the better option to afford him some protection. But he said he liked the button-up better… It’s lighter than the sweater so it won’t keep him as warm, but that means he can steal Cam’s big coat later on. The turtleneck would completely cover the green jumpsuit, but the blue of the button-up actually compliments it nicely. Luther nods decisively. The button-up will be perfect.

He dresses quickly, gives himself a final once-over in the mirror, unbuttons his top button, and heads out to see Cam. His boyfriend - his boyfriend! The thought still sends a thrill through him - has picked up the cat, Scrunge, and is stroking her head, making little baby noises at her. She purrs in her usual way, fast and loud, like a revving motorcycle. Cam sets her down when he sees Luther and sighs happily.

“You look fantastic,” he says.

“You clean up pretty nice yourself.” Luther crosses the room and fondly brushes a loose strand of hair behind Cam’s ear. Cam’s in a dark grey v-neck shirt and black suit jacket, slightly tarnished silver cufflinks adorning the sleeves. He’s got his big heavy winter coat draped over one arm so he doesn’t overheat in the relative warmth of the apartment. Luther sneaks a covetous little glance at it before grabbing his own shabby coat off a hook near the door.

He bends down to give Scrunge a goodbye scritch behind the ears. “Behave yourself while I’m out,” he tells her. “No tearing around the place and knocking things over.” She meows plaintively. Luther retrieves her bag of treats and gives her two as a bribe, which she accepts happily.

“Okay,” Luther says, straightening and shrugging on his coat. “Ready?”

“Ready,” Cam says, and takes his hand.

They walk to the restaurant. No point in searching for parking, it’d take longer than just hoofing it anyway. It’s been snowing on and off throughout the week and piles of dirty slush cover the sidewalk. It’s cold, but Luther’s coat is keeping him warm enough for now. He and Cam hold hands as they walk to the restaurant, and Luther doesn’t even shrink a little bit. His chest swells with so much pride he thinks his feet might leave the ground.

The place is only a little busy, so they have a short wait before they’re shown to their table. They get their usual orders. Luther prefers simple rolls and nigiri so the taste of the fish is front and center, while Cam likes to get the complicated, loaded rolls for the variety of texture and flavor. While they wait for their food to arrive, Luther fills Cam in on Scrunge’s latest reign of terror in his apartment, and how much it’ll cost to fix the cracked frame of the painting she’d somehow managed to knock off the wall in her frenzy to catch the fabled red laser dot.

The food arrives. Cam offers Luther a taste of his rolls - he’s gotten something deep fried with cream cheese, cucumber, and crab, and another loaded high with four kinds of fish, topped with roe. Luther tries the one with all the fish, but passes on the deep fried one. He trades Cam a piece of mackerel nigiri. Then he continues on talking, telling Cam about his week, how work’s been, the new guy they hired, and the annoying new habit his coworker’s formed of singing along with the music on the jukebox, regardless of whether she knows the lyrics or not.

Luther suddenly catches the look in Cam’s eyes. There’s something… hungry in them. It’s the only way he can describe it. It’s not regular hungry, because he’s practically ignoring his food in favor of listening intently to Luther’s rambling story. He’s leaning forward, arms folded on the table in front of him, drinking in every word Luther has to say. He’s hungry for him. The realization hits Luther like a truck and he stops mid-sentence, jaw dropping, a blush starting to spread across his face.

“What’s wrong?” Cam asks, innocent as ever. How could he even know the effect he has on Luther? How could Luther ever explain?

“N-nothing, um, I… I’ve been talking a lot, why don’t you take over for a bit? What’s keeping you busy at work?” It was delightful to listen to Cam ramble on about his job. Luther barely understood a word of it, but his enthusiasm was adorable and, importantly, not about Luther. He could keep it together and breathe a bit, work on calming down the scramble of emotion in his gut.

Sure enough, he wins himself a good fifteen minutes of calm while Cam talks on about carburetors and mufflers and manifolds. He could be making it up for all Luther knows. It’s not until Cam realizes his deep fried roll has gone cold that he breaks off to eat. They finish their food, decide to pass on dessert, pay, and head for the theater.

It’s only a few blocks away, a fifteen minute walk at most. The night has gotten a little colder and darker, and now stray snowflakes drift and spin through the air, catching the streetlights and twinkling like stars. Cam has a lot of fun pretending he’s a dragon, his warm breath turning to steaming clouds in the freezing air. Luther’s shivering now, his old secondhand coat doing little to protect him from the chill. Cam notices, of course, and whips his own coat off in an instant.

“Oh, please,” Luther demurs, “You’re so chivalrous, but really, I’m fine.”

“You’re shaking like a weathervane in a hurricane, sweetheart. I’ll be fine, I’m my own space heater.” Cam arranges the coat over Luther’s shoulders neatly and slips his arm around Luther’s waist, pulling him in close. It’s so warm and so nice, and so very, very close. Luther’s shivers slacken and cease, and then one more shakes him, different from the rest.

“Oh no,” Luther whispers, “I was doing so well, please…”

Luckily, he only loses about three inches. His clothes are a little looser, and he’s engulfed a little more by Cam’s huge coat, but he’s still a perfectly normal height. He sighs in relief.

“So what’s this movie we’re seeing?” Luther asks, trying to take his mind off of things.

“Oh, so it’s this old sci fi cult classic based on a book no one’s ever read. I saw it the first time when I was like… eight? And it scarred me for life, really, and now I’m obsessed with this shit. The special effects are super gnarly, and they hold up okay, even though you can totally see the tube for the fake blood in the decapitation scene. Don’t worry too much about following the plot, it’s not really the point of the movie, but what you should know ahead of time is…”

Cam rambles on like that, filling the night with fog. Luther snuggles in closer and listens happily, totally at ease. He made it through the most important part of the night, and once they get in the theater, he can relax. It doesn’t matter if he shrinks in the theater - from what Cam’s said, the only people watching this late-night special feature will be die-hard fans who’ll be glued to the screen, and in the darkness they won’t have to worry about anyone catching sight of them.

That also means, of course, that Cam might get a little handsy once the lights dim. If he’s being honest, Luther would be disappointed if he didn’t.

They get a seat in the back row. As the previews start up, Cam reaches over and takes Luther’s chin in his hand, turning it gently so they face each other. For a moment, he just holds them there, staring into Luther’s eyes with an adoring softness that makes Luther’s heart sing. Then he leans in and kisses him, just once, softly on the mouth. Luther shivers and loses another few inches. Cam lets him go, but Luther’s not satisfied. He grabs Cam’s collar and pulls him down for another kiss, this one deeper and hungrier. Cam chuckles against his mouth and nips at his bottom lip, catching it between his teeth for just a moment. Luther sits back heavily in his seat, breath coming in shallow gasps. He grips his armrests tight, trying to pay attention to the trailer for the newest slasher flick as it blares out through the theater. No dice. He’s losing height fast now, shrinking down to four feet tall, his normal clothes hanging off his frame.

They stay apart for all of a minute before Cam’s hand sneaks across the seat and slides into place on Luther’s thigh. He strokes his thumb back and forth in a slow rhythm, humming happily. Luther gasps and shrinks more, staring wide-eyed as Cam’s hand covers more and more of him, soon easily encompassing his entire thigh.

He’s maybe two feet tall now and he can’t see the screen over the seat in front of him. Cam glances down, catching the pouting, grumpy look on Luther’s face, and presses a hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter.

“Here, sweetheart,” Cam murmurs, and picks Luther up with one hand. With the other, he frees him from his clothing so that he’s only clad in the jumpsuit. Cam settles Luther gently on his lap. This has fixed the problem of not being able to see the screen, but only momentarily. Luther goes bright red and dwindles down even further. By the time the previews have finished, he’s only eight inches tall.

As the opening theme blares with discordant trumpets, Cam pinches the back of Luther’s jumpsuit between thumb and forefinger and lifts him up. He dangles Luther in front of his face for a moment, expression torn between adoring and apologetic, then brings him in close for a gentle kiss. He sets Luther on his shoulder and hands him a piece of popcorn.

Luther hides his burning face behind the buttery morsel. He’d been expecting a little hanky panky, but nothing so direct. Stolen kisses, maybe a fake yawn that disguised Cam putting his arm around Luther, a little playing with his hair. Going for the thigh like that… that was entirely unexpected. He’s beginning to suspect Cam was trying to get him tiny.

The movie is just as gory and weird as promised. Luther isn’t super squeamish, but more than once he turns and ducks his face into Cam’s neck, squealing in disgust, his voice quiet enough at this size that he doesn’t have to worry about disturbing anyone else. Every time, he feels Cam shake under him with silent laughter, enjoying Luther’s reactions.

The movie ends before too long, and the other theatergoers file out, chatting animatedly with one another about the flick. Cam holds his hand up to his chest, and Luther pushes himself off Cam’s shoulder, landing gracefully in his palm. Cam sets him down on the armrest while he folds up Luther’s discarded clothing and tucks it in an inner pocket of his big coat. He looks down at Luther and tilts his head to one side, lips pursed in a calculating expression.

“You’re just a little too big to hide comfortably… here, let’s fix that.” Cam puts his elbows on either side of Luther on the armrest and looms over him, completely blocking the dim theater lights overhead. Luther takes a few involuntary steps back and bumps up against Cam’s hands, linked together behind him to form a ring penning him in. “You’re all mine now,” Cam breathes, quiet as a whisper. “So tiny and cute. I’m going to put you in my pocket and carry you home, and then… well, then we’ll see what I’ll do with you, hm?” A crooked, meaningful grin spreads across Cam’s face, and that hungry look comes back into his eyes.

It works like a charm. Luther’s legs shake, his heart pounds, and he shivers. He dwindles down to half his height, a mere four inches.

“There we go,” Cam croons, and scoops him up in one hand. Cam stows him safely in his coat pocket, held in a loose fist to keep him safe from jostling and the cold. He exits the theater and moves through the crowds easily. People tend to make way when they see a man his size coming towards them.

Luther curls up against Cam’s fingers and sighs happily. Cam’s hand is warm, calloused in places but soft in others, and the pocket sways gently with his gait. It’s so safe and cozy, combined with the late hour and the exhaustion of the day, it’s the perfect recipe to knock him out. He fights the heaviness of his eyelids as long as he can, but only makes it a few blocks before he’s fast asleep.

~~~

“Whew, cold one out tonight,” Cam says as he unlocks the door to Luther’s apartment. He can already hear Scrunge wailing on the other side. “I hope you weren’t too frozen in there.” He pushes the door open and addresses the cat. “Yes, we’re home, hello darling, we missed you too.” She winds around his legs and purr-meows at top volume. “Okay, okay, other people are trying to sleep,” Cam hisses. “You’re gonna wake up the whole floor, shitty kitty.” She mrrps in disapproval.

He pulls Luther out of his pocket. “So, babe, do you wanna - oh.” The little dear is asleep, snoring softly. Cam smiles and presses a kiss to his chest. He takes a seat on the couch, sighing as he plops himself down. Scrunge leaps up into his lap immediately and puts her front legs up on his chest, sniffing at Luther in his hand.

“Poor dear’s all tuckered out,” Cam murmurs, giving her a scritch. “Let’s let him rest.”

#asks #writing #cam and luther #gulliver's hanahaki #g/t #giant tiny #hit post before i remembered tags exist oops

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otomes-world · 2 years

Text

Unexpected interaction (part 10)

Wow, it's only been two months, not like the last three... I remind, idea and picture belongs to @twisted-n-thirsty! part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 8 part 9

While LeBlanche dragged you deeper into the academy, you allowed yourself to throw glances in different directions. You certainly wouldn’t remember the way back, but you could catch the general atmosphere of the rival institution. While various shades of gentle lilac flashed before your eyes, you involuntarily thought. What would happen if you got into the Academy? Of course, you couldn't turn back the past, but probably everyone at least once in his life thought about "if". Experience had shown that you ereno exception. However, again, such thoughts would not become something big, so you tried to distract yourself. The chirping of the black-haired young man coped with its task perfectly.

To be honest, you didn't really listen to his words. He talked about everything in the world, you only occasionally snatched out words like, party, preparation or Justin. It didn’t give you an idea of what was going on, but you weren’t interested from the start to feel intrigue or disappointment. You glanced back briefly when you spotted Schoenheit. If there was a better example of 'disappointment' in the world, it was reflected on Vil's face. Although the head of the Pomefiore remained as beautiful as he was before, you still turned your back.

Soon, Neige led your trio into the garden. Recovering your breath after an unscheduled run, along the way, you looked at the meeting place. Now, you understand what he meant. Party plus preparation plus Justin really equaled an open-air ball, as you previously thought. Snow-white ribbons gracefully tied between columns of the same color. Tables with a barely noticeable beige shade of tablecloths were arranged in a semicircle, at each there were three or four chairs. A flower arrangement of white lilies in a ceramic vase in the center complemented the overall picture. However, you could not shake the feeling that it was put there in a hurry. The look of Vil, who was standing next to it, said that he was thinking the same thing. However, it's not for you to argue with someone's design decision.

After that LeBlanche was called by one of the students, to which the young man hastily apologized to you and ran away. Your plan to spend the whole day with him was crumbling before our eyes. Sighing, you looked at one of the distant tables and, pushing back a chair, sat down. From where you were, you saw how Adonis intercepted Schoenheit heading towards you. The sight of him made you shudder. The memories of the studio collision were still fresh. As soon as you thought about how everything was successfully resolved with the namesake of Silver from Diasomnia, a brunette appeared, completely destroying your good mood. Fortunately or unfortunately, he whispered something to Vil, who went with him frowning. You could only hope that Schoenheit was better at holding himself than Grimm, Deuce, and Ace combined, and the Academy wouldn't turn into a sea of fire.

“I wish I could hear their conversation,” a sudden voice made you nearly fall off your chair. Turning abruptly, you saw that the third of the company, Aro, who had collapsed behind a nearby chair. More precisely, he sprawled on the table. How and when he managed to do this remained a mystery to you, the answer to which you did not really want to know. "Aren't you interested? Not once?"

With these words, the blond looked at you. As soon as you managed to safely forget about him, he, in person, decided to remind about himself. Why does everything in your life always go awry?

"No..." you yourself thought it sounded not too confident, so the next moment you tried to speak more firmly. "No, that's their business, and it would be impolite to interfere." The young man did not turn away, continuing to look straight into your eyes. His gaze somehow reminded you of Hunt, the same knowing sparks, except, of course, the veil of sleepiness that hides them. However, contrary to expectations, the blond did not fall asleep, now he seemed more cheerful than usual. This could not help but alert you. "Do you need something, sir.... Prince?.."

It has not been known how much time has passed since their introduction that you managed to forget how ironic his name sounded.

"You can call me just Aro, I doubt you remember my, or Justin's, full name." Despite the fact that the phrase sounded quite ordinary, you could not help but catch a note of resentment. Yes, compared to Justin, his name was three times as short, if not four, but you weren't interested in both of them to remember either.

"If you say so," you threw, turning your attention to the garden. The vase in the center caught your eye again. Apparently, you were not the only one who thought so: in the distance, next to one of the columns, stood a young man who shook his head resignedly. "Who is..." you tried to ask, but immediately stopped.

How exactly were you going to ask the question and about what. Nevertheless, the blond lying on the table understood exactly what you meant. This time he lay more compact: he bent his arms at the elbows and rested his head on his forearms.

“One of the students of the academy,” was his answer. From irritation, you wanted to snort. "He is one friends of LeBlanche, or maybe not, who knows. The question with whom LeBlanche does not get along will be more intriguing, don't you think so?" Without waiting for an answer from you, Aro continued. "He`s a designer or maybe not. I don`t remember." When you were about to find another place, tired of the presence of the blond and his 'maybe yes, maybe no' wording, he continued. "Do you know what was in the place of this vase?" Noticing that he finally managed to interest you, he smiled like a cat who found a plate of cream. "Has any ideas?"

"I'm... not... interested," you said, but your intonation and uncertain tone betrayed you. "Anyway, you don't tell me. Right?"

"What do I get if I tell you?" Now the young man's attention was completely riveted on you. Unwittingly, you felt that he was playing with you, as with a mouse that would be eaten as soon as cat would bored.

"I knew it," now nothing held you back. Rising from your place, you did not even bother to turn around, wanting to go as far as possible.

"You can ask Justin, I'm sure he won't refuse you" came from behind you, but you were too annoyed to stop.

However, this did not mean that you did not take note of his words. Considering how many people hinted at the notorious vase, there was something in it. Intuition tried to convince the opposite, saying that it was not worth it, but curiosity was stronger. In addition, of all the remaining options, Justin was the safest. Rook, as luck would have it, disappeared from sight again.

Moving away from the eccentric blonde, you only hoped to find someone you know before another strange person finds you. Luckily for you, there was almost no one in the garden, which made the search much easier. It looks like you came too early. Soon, you spotted the familiar silver hair in the distance and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Justin!"

This was probably the first time ever when you greeted him with such enthusiasm. So apparently the young man himself thought, on whose face was frozen surprise, which in the next second was replaced by sincere joy.

"The lady of my heart-..!" He began his usual tirade, but when he saw your gloomy expression he immediately pulled away, allowing himself just a radiant smile.

Can this be called progress? Looking at the sincere mixture of relief and joy, you become thoughtful. You were stung by a feeling of guilt, because initially you were not going to go. Now, looking at the first honest reaction, you yourself allowed yourself to rejoice. Too often lately, intrigue has been woven around you. It felt like a game of chess, in which you did not feel like a player, but an ordinary piece, moving around the field in different directions. Frankly, an unpleasant feeling.

While the plan "spend time with Neige" went down the drain, the new plan "spend time with Justin" didn't sound so bad.

Part 11

#rsa! raven #rsa! aro #rsa! quicksilver #twst oneshot #twst fic #twisted wonderland #twst #rook hunt #vil schoenheit #neige leblanche #rsa!mob #female reader #royal sword academy #rsa twst #rsa x reader #rsa oc #rsa mob

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manonblaqkbeak · 3 years

Text

Midnight Cravings

so, i actually wrote most of this in july but never finished it and decided to fix it up for todays prompt bc i was feeling a lil lazy lol. and i think its one of my faves, especially the ending.

2.2k words

cw: none

enjoy!! :)

It was just past two in the morning and Aelin was wide awake. Not due to a mountain of paperwork, or a nightmare or one of her kids needing her. Aelin was wide awake because she was absolutely starving.

The type of starving it felt like she'd never eaten a day in her life. Like her stomach was going to eat itself.

Her stomach growled again, louder than before, and beside her, his voice muffled, Rowan asked, “Is that your stomach or the wind outside?”

“Shut up,” Aelin mumbled, as her stomach continued its song. Gods, why was she so hungry? She practically devoured the fruits in the fruit bowl just before bed, she had a healthy serving of dinner, and a large slice of chocolate torte for dessert.

But here she was, close to eating her damned pillow to sate her starvation.

Aelin glanced over towards her mate, his back to her, and she shuffled closer, resting her chin on his shoulder.

“Rowan,” she started to say, but Rowan cut her off.

“I'm not going to the kitchens.”

She pouted, although he couldn't see her. “Please?” she knew that if she used her manners, then he would do just about anything.

But it didn't work. Not just yet. “There's some fruit in the bowl.”

“I ate them all.” He sighed heavily, knowing that he was losing this conversation. “Please? I am your mate, your wife, the mother of your children.”

Rowan snorted. “Really? I was starting to suspect that the three silver-haired children were Lorcan's.”

Her hunger nearly disappeared at the thought of that. “Don't be gross.” Reaching over, Aelin kissed the tip of his ear, smiling as he shuddered in pleasure as she nibbled on it. “Please?”

Rowan sighed heavily, knowing that he lost, and Aelin barely hid her smile. “I'll go,” he said. “But only if you join me.”

Her smile did disappear at that. “But the bed is so warm.”

“Exactly. If I have to leave it, so do you.”

“Fine,” she mumbled reluctantly, but quickly perked up, realising that she would be getting food. Rowan was a much better cook than her. Aelin used to have basic cooking skills, but with being Queen and then becoming a mother, she never cooked anymore and really had no need to; not with multiple cooks under the palace roof. She did try a few years ago as a treat for her family, but everything turned into a crisp and wasn't even suitable for the dogs in the kennels.

Scrambling out of bed, the Queen and King of Terrasen tied on their robes and put on their slippers. Aelin loved the sight of Rowan looking so domestic, it was ridiculous how much she loved it.

Since Isolde was only six months old and far too young to be left behind, Rowan put her in the wooden carrier to take with them into the kitchens, their movements silent as the grave as they transferred their youngest from her crib and into the crafty carrier—Isolde was the only one of their children that slept soundlessly through the night at such a young age, and loathed to be woken up. As Rowan did that, Aelin checked in on Alder in his room, their son a little over three years old, but he slept like a log and Aelin knew that he wouldn't wake up at any point when they were gone.

As they left their chambers, Aelin nearly ruined all their good work and almost woke up their other children when she bit out a curse at the sudden leg cramp that shot up her right calf. Rowan glanced at her, asking if she was okay, and after a moment she was, although she was left a little dazed at the suddenness of it all.

Aelin's legs had been cramping randomly of late, but she didn't notice anything of concern. If it continued, she would go to Magnolia and see if anything could be done about it. The last thing Aelin needed was to fall ill, she had far too many things to do with winter arriving in a few weeks. She did know that if anything was wrong with her, that she could rely on Rowan completely.

Aelin's stomach growled for the umpteenth time, the sound lasting for a good minute before it settled. Isolde fidgeted in her sleep, but did not wake.

“I think your stomach was just trying to talk to me.”

“It was,” Aelin agreed. “It said that we need to hurry the hell up or it's going to disintegrate.”

“We better do as it says then. It'd be cruel to subject Terrasen to a hungry Queen. No one should suffer as I do when you're starving.”

“You make me sound horrible.”

“You are,” he said, humour dancing in his dark eyes. “And not just when you're hungry.”

Aelin mumbled under her breath. Rowan decided to pretend not to hear her, even as he fought a smile.

After what felt like an eternity, they reached the kitchens, Rowan placing Isolde onto the counter closest to them. Aelin rushed towards the bowls of fruit, grabbing an apple and a pear, eating the fruits simultaneously. She missed the small, private smile Rowan gave her as he went to the pantry, asking her what she was in the mood for, one eye on their child. But still, she slept and Rowan for a moment, wished that all of their children had been like that, but knew that there was no point in complaining when they all slept quietly now.

“Something filling,” was all Aelin could think of to say. But after a moment decided on an omelette, filled with bacon, mushrooms, onion, red bell-peppers and carrot. As she and Rowan prepped the ingredients—with Rowan wanting his own omelette—Aelin contemplated in silence, her brows furrowed as she chopped up the carrots.

“What are you thinking about, Fireheart?” Rowan asked when he noticed his wife's expression.

“Just trying to remember the last time I was this hungry. I've been like this for at least a week and a half.”

“I've noticed. You haven't had this big of an appetite for a good number of years.”

She didn't comment on that, lost in her own world. “And my legs have been cramping lately too. I haven't injured myself. Have I been sleeping in strange positions?”

“No, you're sleeping just fine.”

Her frown deepened. “Maybe I'm just stressed for the winter preparations.”

“Possibly, I know that you worry a lot for the people during winter.” They both did, as the winters in Terrasen were brutal. Each year there was always a small number of people that passed due to the cold for a number of reasons. When those lists made their way in Aelin's hands, it always hit her hard, her guilt a palpable thing, even after Rowan would tell her that it was in no way her fault.

But that wasn't the reasons for her consuming hunger and leg cramps—Rowan had noticed the change in her scent weeks ago and when he noticed, he thought that Aelin would too. But she was completely oblivious and he didn't want to spoil the surprise, although it was getting harder each day not to say something.

However, he couldn't help but count back the weeks to the day of conception. He was fairly certain that it was when Aelin had been reading a particularly steamy novel on the window seat in their sitting room and jumped on him like they had never had sex before when he had come to ask if she was joining him in bed.

It would fit in with list of unusual places they have conceived their children. Elentiya had been in the library (either in the archives or in Aelin and Rowan's private nook, neither were sure), Norrin against an oak tree (which they discovered after they have calmed down that the Little Folk had watched the entire encounter, with Aelin becoming stuck between wanting to laugh or hide under a rock), Alder against one of the many palace chimneys, and Isolde in a linen closet.

Maybe one day they would conceive a child in their bed like most people did.

They got to cooking, with Rowan standing behind Aelin and guiding her with the wooden spoon and plating their midnight meal before it burned into a crisp. Isolde babbled in her sleep as the sounds of cooking reached her, but still slept. It wouldn't be long, however, until she woke up to be fed. Aelin placed their youngest by her feet as they sat down at the small dining table in the far corner of the kitchen where the workers took their breaks.

The smile on Aelin's face as she bit into the fluffy omelette was certainly worth being woken up in the middle of the night.

However, her fork stilled in mid-air when she was halfway done when realisation dawned on her.

Finally.

“I'm pregnant,” was all she said, her Ashryver eyes growing wide. Rowan didn't bother to hide his smile. This was why he didn't say anything. It was always worth it when she revealed those beautiful words to him. “Rowan, I'm pregnant. The last time I was this hungry was when I was pregnant with Alder and the leg cramps are from Norrin's pregnancy. And all the fruit I can't stop eating is just like when I was pregnant with Isolde. How haven't I noticed anything?”

“You've been busy,” Rowan said, reaching over to take her hands in his and kissed her fingers.

“You knew, didn't you?” Aelin asked, her eyes narrowed just slightly.

“I may have noticed.”

“You should have told me.”

“I like it better when you come to the realisation yourself,” he said simply.

Aelin shot out of her seat and sat on his lap, a pretty smile gracing her face as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her fingers playing the the hair at the nape of his neck. Rowan wound his arms around her waist and kissed her on the cheeks, the tips of her nose, the corner of her lips and then her mouth.

Aelin hummed contentedly and kissed him back. When they broke apart, she rested her forehead against his.

“We're insane.”

Rowan laughed deeply at the sudden statement. “What makes you say that?”

“We're having a fifth baby. Lorcan and Elide only have three and I always thought that they'd have at least a dozen, but they don't and we're about to have five. That's insane. We're insane.”

“We are, but I like that about us,” he said, kissing her again. Her face was open and soft, her eyes dancing with happiness, but he still found himself asking, “Are you okay with it?”

“Of course I am, buzzard. More than words can say.” Aelin kissed him to emphasise that fact, his hand reaching down onto her belly and was content to stay like that forever. She couldn’t believe how lucky she was. She always thought that she’d just have one child, maybe two, but to have five was something she never dreamed of.

Isolde finally decided to wake up and scream her displeasure at being hungry. Aelin was off him in an instant, cooing at their daughter as Aelin sat back in her seat and fed not just herself, but Isolde at the same time. His mate was spectacular at multitasking like that.

They couldn't wait to meet their fifth child.

X X X X X X

Rowan was surprised that his children hadn't kicked down the doors to the bedchamber with how excited they were. Even little Isolde was a ball of energy and she was by far their most quiet child. Rowan lead them to their mother, reminding them that they had to be quiet and gentle, because mama had just gone through a long process of bringing in their new sibling into the world.

They entered the bedchamber and Aelin greeted them with a tired but loving smile telling them to come meet their new sister, the kids went onto the bed, surrounding Aelin and the baby, happiness and wonderment in their eyes as they took in the little bundle of joy, her silver hair stark against her lightly tanned skin. She had opened her eyes briefly during her first feeding and Aelin had groaned playfully when she spotted that they were pine-green, muttering how of course I labour for a whole day to give birth to another you. But he knew that she didn't care if she was born with green hair and yellow eyes, Aelin loved her immensely.

“What's her name, mama?” Elentiya asked softly, carefully trailing a finger down her sisters cheek.

“Elowynn-Yrene.” Rowan would never forget the pure joy in Yrene's eyes when Aelin asked if the healer would give them her blessing to grace their child with her name, as a thank you for all the years of coming down and helping Aelin, for eradicating Erawan, and for being a great friend to both of them. It had taken them a few minutes to convince their friend, citing that the honour was far too much, but Yrene eventually said "yes".

“That's pretty,” Alder supplied, a wide smile on his face. Aelin kissed his temple and thanked him for his kind words.

Aelin moved her eyes from Alder to Rowan, smiling as her mate stood there, taking them in.

His family, their family. Never did he think he would be so blessed to have this.

His and Aelin's children; the most beautiful thing Rowan had ever seen.

Rowan went and joined his family on the bed, the smile on his face one of Aelin's favourites.

#rowaelin #rowaelinmonth #my work

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five-rivers · 4 years

Note

imagine if at a christmas truce party the ghosts discover that danny has a second obsession of space

Wrote a fic~ *does a little dance*

"Here's your invitation to the truce party," said Skulker, dropping the letter by Danny's head, "and here's the duty list. Pick something." He shoved a piece of paper into Danny's face.

"You know," said Danny, testing the rope Skulker had tied him with, "you get a lot better at chasing me when you're doing it for non-murder purposes."

Skulker scowled, but Danny knew better than to take his apparent facial expression as a sign of his true emotions. After all, the face Danny could see wasn't really Skulker's. It was a mask. One the tiny green jellybean inside could manipulate as he pleased.

"What do you mean, 'duty list,' anyway?" Danny blew the paper off his nose.

"It's a list. Of duties. For people who want to attend the party. You can't possibly imagine that one ghost does it all on their own, do you?"

"I don't know. Some living people are really into the holidays. Wouldn't surprise me if there was someone over in the GZ Obsessing."

"There are," said Skulker flatly. "But going to those parties is risky."

"Oh. Yeah. I guess that makes sense. So, is this, like, a potluck deal, or white elephant, or do I have to come set up, or what?"

"Read the list, whelp!"

"I would," said Danny, "if you held it far enough away for me to see what was written on it. "My eyes don't focus that close."

Grumbling, Skulker adjusted his position.

A lot of the things on the list were already checked off. The rest looked dangerous (fighting the Krampus), time consuming (holly acquisition, with a stupidly high number of branches listed next to it), expensive (providing new holiday table settings), confusing (Danny didn't know what a 'consoda' was, or why he would fetch offerings from it), or simply extraordinarily unappealing (after party cleanup). Except for one.

One that caught Danny's eye because of a very specific word that was included.

"Why's the star all by itself?" asked Danny.

"Because the star is important," said Skulker. "Adding the star to the tree is what starts off the real celebration. A star needs to be impressive. Dramatic! Not one of those little dinky tinsel things you can find at human stores."

Part of Danny knew he shouldn't- But when had he ever listened to that part of himself?

Actually, that wasn't really fair. He listened, otherwise he'd be fully dead instead of just half.

Still.

(The idea of making a star made his skin feel sparkly and fuzzy, like his whole body was half an inch from the surface of freshly poured soda, but all over.)

"I'll take it," he said.

"Humf," said Skulker. "Don't screw up, or you'll be in for a beating as soon as the truce is over." He made a mark by the name and started to fly off.

"Hey! Aren't you going to untie me?"

"Nah."

"He's late," said Desiree, sharply, glaring at Skulker as if he had any control over what the whelp did or did not do.

She wasn't the only one.

"He's not late yet," defended Skulker.

"You shouldn't have given him the star as a choice," complained Technus, his voice squaking like a poorly connected computer speaker. "You should have just told him what he'd have to do. Something that wouldn't ruin the party. He's a teenager! Teenagers are easily distracted."

"I didn't know you were a teen, techie," drawled Spectra, who really shouldn't have been at the party at all, seeing as she wasn't, and never had been, invited. Skulker was hoping someone would find a way to throw her and her little minion out before midnight.

"It's TECHNUS, MASTER OF TECHNOLOGY, CONTROLLER OF ALL THINGS ELECTRONIC AND BEEPING."

"I am sure Sir Phantom is on his way," said Princess Dora, softly, ignoring Technus's continuing rant with the ease of long practice. She would not be here the whole evening. Her kingdom had its own, separate celebrations, but they wouldn't start for well over half a human day. "He is a very responsible person, and he was speaking to me about stars just earlier this month." She frowned, slightly, swirling the darkly luminous wine in her glass. "That is, I think he was talking about stars. The conversation was somewhat difficult for me to follow."

"Oh, no," said Desiree, putting one hand delicately over a smile.

"What?" growled Skulker.

"It always bothered me a little, you see, but I hadn't realized quite why until just now." She was barely even trying to hide her delight. "The second time I fought him, it was during a meteor shower."

"So?" asked Amorpho.

"He was rather cross with me during the fight. At the time, I thought it was because he was missing that girl's party, or because of the whole memory wiping thing, but in retrospect..."

"Just spit it out already," said Skulker.

"I do believe you gave the task of making the tree star to a ghost Obsessed with outer space."

Inside the suit, Skulker's true hands slip off his controls for just a moment. "Oh, Ancients," he groaned.

"We're not getting a star this year, are we?" asked Ember.

Phantom chose that moment to barrel through the door. "Sorry!" he exclaimed, looking and sounding more like a little kid than Skulker had ever witnessed. "Am I late? No, I'm not. Never mind. I'm not sorry. What do you think?"

He held out the... thing in his hands for the assembled ghosts to view. It was... It was definitely a star. A round blue star. Complete with solar flares and sunspots. Animated flares and sunspots.

"How the hell?" whispered Walker in the background, despite the fact that he and his pink prison really had no room to talk.

"Is it no good?" asked Phantom, managing to shift his weight even though he was floating. "I turned the brightness way down so that everyone could see the details, but I think I could turn it back up again without too much trouble." He blinked up at the other ghosts, and Skulker noticed with some unease that his pupils were currently shaped like crescent moons. "I mean, the other one exploded, but I think I've got it, now."

All of the ghosts slid back, just slightly. Not that they were afraid of explosions, but, well, being cautious didn't hurt.

"Er," said Dora, "what is it, exactly?"

"A star! A blue giant, specifically. Well, a model of one, anyway, but I think it's a good model. I mean, it's a blue giant right now. I've got it set up so that it'll go through the whole life cycle of a massive star. Or, not the whole life cycle, because that would include the nebula, but the life cycle from this point? It'll change color and expand as the night goes on and it uses up its 'hydrogen'- I've scaled the expansion, though, don't worry, it won't take over- and then the core will collapse and the outer layers will be ejected, and- BOOM!- supernova!"

"Ghost child," said Technus, in a more strangled than usual voice, "are you telling us that's a bomb?"

"No, it's a star," said Phantom, blankly. On closer inspection, the crescents in his eyes were not the only modification to Phantom's appearance. He had pale green and silver stars scattered liberally across his nose and cheeks, and similar shapes in the black of his costume.

In the background, Desiree was dying of laughter.

"Don't you think a supernova might be... dangerous?"

"Oh, a real one, sure. But I tested one before I brought this, and all it did to me was singe my eyebrows off, and I was standing really close."

"Whelp," said Skulker, searching for some reason to reject Phantom's 'contribution,' "how is that even supposed to stay on the tree? It's just a ball."

"Oh, it'll float wherever I tell it to, don't worry, I've tested it!"

It perhaps said something about ghostly parties that the sudden detonation of the tree topper several hours later, the subsequent glee of the supposed superhero in attendance when the room was filled with star-shaped glitter and confetti, and the attempted homicide on the part of several glitter-unfriendly ghosts was not the most exciting series of events to occur that night.

#danny phantom #ask #answer #fic

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erosofthepen · 3 years

Text

Letters From Amad pt.2

After about five months of not knowing how to continue it, i have finished part 2!! There will be a third part, not nearly as long, and i already have most of it written, so it should be out a lot sooner lol. BUT, i hope you enjoy it, and thanks for putting up with me lol.

-Part 1

-Words: 4,898

-Warnings: blizzard/storm, injury, hypothermia, some swearing

-Tags: @grunid, @elvish-sky, @sassyscribbler, @whore4fictionalhoes11, @smaugs-guardian, @bitter-sweet-farmgirl, @jotink78, @marvel-ous-hobbit, @anjhope1, (if i forgot you, im sorry, i have trouble keeping track sometimes)

It was moments like this that reflected Thorin’s terrible decision making. In actuality, his decision to not put anymore lives at risk was very wise. But still, it was Fili who was out there. And Kili. And since Thorin would not send a search party out, it was time to take matters into your own hands.

First things first, you went back to your chambers and put on your warmest, fluffiest, most wind-resistant coat. Rabbit fur covered the insides (the hides were hunted and tanned by Fili, a courting gift to you), and thick leather made up the outside, keeping the cold out and the warmth in. Next, you pulled on your winter boots (you had actually just had them made last week, and there were three little pockets perfect for concealing knives in), as well as a hat, gloves, and a scarf, all knitted by Ori, his way to show gratitude after your help in the libraries. You then proceeded to gather up some salted meat and cram, walk down to the entrance of the mountain, and enter the stables.

You choose a faithful companion to keep you company, namely, Daisy. The Mare had a thick wooly mane, and an extreme proclivity towards sweets. This was not to be your first venture with the pony, and now you knew better to bring him anywhere within five leagues of a bakery. You had not been amused when he had eaten an entire box of pastries meant for you and the scholars, though Kili and Fili had thought it to be the most hilarious of stories. However, despite his tendency to devour pastries, Daisy was reliable and resilient, and you hardly rode any other steed.

Several stableboys tried to dissuade you from leaving in the storm, but you brushed off their remarks as you tacked up Daisy. Thankfully, they didn’t try to block your path as you left, though they did warn you to be careful. You weren’t too concerned, for the storm had grown tamer in the day, and the frost was not biting your face. Yet, that is.

You reached Dale in about an hour. It took much longer than expected, with Daisy being nearly up to his belly in the fallen snow. Dale was practically devoid of men and women, most of them having the brains to stay inside during the storm. The only exceptions were some watchmen and one or two passersby.

“Oi, it’s a bit too cold for a morning ride lady, have you lost all sense?” A guard asked as you were leaving the gate on the other side of town.

“No my good fellow, I'm just looking for my friends. Have you seen two dwarrow come this way?”

“Can’t say that I have, but Maurice said he saw a pair last night, a few hours before the snow started.”

“Did Maurice mention where they were headed?”

“To the caravan, where else? It’s about fifteen miles from here, I would guess. You’re not considering going out there, are you?”

“I’m afraid that I must. Good day to you sir,”

“And a very cold day to you, lassie. Best of travels.”

“And to you as well.”

You quickly left and mentally cursed yourself for wishing him best of travels in return. He wasn’t traveling, you idiot!

The embarrassment faded as the wind began to pick up. The blizzard was steadily getting thicker, the puffy snowflakes turning more compact and icy. The city of Dale had long disappeared behind you in the snow, and you could only hope you were headed in the right direction.

However adventurous and bold it sounds, riding bare-back on a pony in the middle of a freezing cold snow storm was not at all an easy task. Your scarf had been moved to cover most of your face, and your hood was tied tightly ‘round your head, yet the flakes still stung your flesh. You were definitely starting to rethink your whole “making sure the brothers were alright in a storm idea.” Especially since it was pointless to look for them in between the caravan and Dale, as you couldn’t even see ten feet in front of you. Your goal now was to simply make it to the caravan without frostbite.

Around noon, you tried eating a bit of the bread you had packed, only to find it frozen. As well as the cheese. And the dried meat. It wouldn’t do good to gnaw on it either, as that would just make your innards cold as well, so you just went with your stomach protesting.

It was starting to get quite dark when you finally saw what seemed to be a glow in the distance. As you drew closer, it grew apparent that it was the caravan, and you sighed in great relief.

The dwarrow on watch were very suspicious. Of course, once you explained your purpose, they grew less so.

“I come from Erebor, in search of the Princes. Prince Fili and Kili left last night with the intention to travel here, have they arrived?”

The guards started to look a bit nervous.

“No my lady, no one’s seen anything of them.”

Your heart dropped to your feet.

“Are you sure?”

“Aye, the whole group would have known.”

You might’ve cried, but your eyes felt nearly frozen. You turned your pony, with full intent to head back out into the blizzard and look for your love, when one of the watchdwarrow stopped you.

“You’ll freeze out there my lady, as will your pony. Stay and get warm.”

“Aye lass” another said, “Besides, if the Prince’s are out there, her Lady Dís should be informed.”

Ah, that’s right. Dís.

One of the guards led Daisy off to get warm with other animals, while the other led you to Her Ladyship’s tent. He announced your presence, awaited approval, and then lifted the flap of the tent, beckoning you inside before letting it fall behind you.

Dís was a truly stunning Dwarrow, even for her age, with long black raven hair and a beard to match. Some strands were turning silver, much like Thorin’s, and her blue eyes were more piercing than an orc’s. She looked incredibly confused when you walked into her tent.

“Good Mahal lass, what the hell were you doing out in that storm? You must be senseless.” She said, looking up from a book she had been reading and furrowing her brows.

“I was looking for the Prince’s. I should introduce myself, my name is (Y/N).”

Dís’s eyes widened and she stood, showing off quite an impressive height.

“Why would you be looking for my sons out in this storm, (Y/N)?”

“They… Fili left a note this morning, he and Kili were coming to the caravan to see you. The watchdwarrow said they hadn’t arrived.”

The Dwarrowdams jaw went slack for a moment, and then she cursed, banging her hand on a small table that held a bottle of whiskey.

“Foolish boys! Have they no sense? I was to be seeing them in only a few more days, but they could not wait, could they? Och, the beasts!” Dís continued her rant for a while longer, before she turned her gaze back on you.

“And you journeyed out here in the storm?”

“Aye. I could not rest well knowing that they were out in this foul weather. I will be going to head back out to look for them as soon as I’ve warmed up a bit,” you replied, very conscious of the Mother’s piercing stare. She was quiet, until she breathed a worried sigh.

“It’s no use to search out in this weather, lass. Especially at night. Rest here with me, we’ll go searching first thing on the morrow. I must talk with the guards for now, make yourself comfortable, I will return soon.”

And, just like that, Dís left the tent. Her talk was brief, and left you standing dumb in the center of the tent. For some time, you debated on whether or not to go out searching anyways, but the fire was surely inviting, and something in you knew Dís wouldn’t take kindly to you leaving against her wishes.

Your travel bag, heavy and frozen from being exposed to the elements for so long, left your shoulders as you set it down by the entrance. Next came your gloves, and then the outer coat, snow and ice caked on it making your fingers fumble whilst trying to unbutton it. Eventually, it joined your bag, as well as your boots (if you had thought the coat was difficult to get off, the frozen buckles on your boots were torture). After you had stripped the burdensome clothing off, you simply stood in the center of the room, close to the fire. There were blankets nearby, piled near a bedroll, but you dared not touch them, seeing as they belonged to Dís. It was rather awkward, simply sitting in a stranger's (of sorts) quarters, and weren’t sure what to do.

Your eyes did some exploring for you, falling first on the book that Dís had been reading. ‘The Heart of Hrund’. Huh. You recognized the title, from the Great Library, but you knew very little about it. You’d have to read it now. Your eyes then fell to the whiskey bottle. ‘Breaker’s’. Ah. Memories you shared with Kili at the beginning of the journey returned, however hazed they were due to your drunken state. Strong stuff, Breaker’s was. Bofur managed to get his hands on a few bottles from a merchant, and you and Kili had stolen one from him, much to Thorin’s disappointment and Fili’s annoyance (he was upset to be left out of the fun). Your eyes then drifted to a leather-fitted box, beautiful khuzdul runes and designs etched into it, however, before you could get a closer look, footsteps crunched through the snow outside the tent.

Dís and a young dwarrow entered, carrying stew, bread, and a plethora of blankets and pillows.

“Mahal,” Dís started, placing the tray of food down on the little table and grabbing a quilt from the other dwarrow, “Have you just been sitting here freezing? You could have taken a blanket, you know.” She said, wrapping the quilt around your shoulders and moving you to sit down.

“I, er, I didn't want to be rude.” You replied, now sitting cross-legged on the floor. Dís screwed her face at you.

“Lass, it is never considered rude to take a blanket in the cold. Only exception is if someone is already using it.”

You didn’t reply, feeling very uncomfortable social-wise, despite finally starting to warm up physically. Dís grabbed the rest of the supplies from the other dwarrow and nodded at him to leave. As he left the tent, Dís set the other blankets down and started making a bedspace for you near the fire.

“I can help with that,” you said, starting to get up to help.

“Nonsense lass, you get yourself warm.” Dis stood and grabbed the food tray once more. “However, I do request that you eat.” she set the tray down in front of you, and you thanked her, feeling a bit guilty as you started on the stew.

“Uh, have you eaten yet, My Lady?”

Dís scoffed, resuming her work on your bed roll. “Don’t call me that child, call me Amad. I can hardly stand to be addressed in that way by servants, let alone my sons One. But yes, I’ve had my fill.”

Her words shocked you, having only ever heard Fili refer to you as his One. You hardly expected Dís to accept you as Fili’s lover, let alone his One.

“Alright.” You replied, once more feeling dumb and without anything to contribute. So you sat in silence, trying hard not to slurp and watching Dís make up your bed. Eventually, She moved up and away, surveying her work.

“Thank you, that was very kind.” you said. Dís sighed and nodded, sitting down on the other side of the fire. You were quiet once more, and were now re-considering going out to search for Fili and Kili, if only to avoid the discomfort of the situation.

“I hope you are only not talking because of the storm. I expected a much more chatty lass, if i’m being honest.” Dís remarked, eyeing you carefully.

Panic flashed through your eyes as you tried to think of something to say, but Dís let out a soft chuckle before you could make a fool of yourself.

“I’m only joking, child. You needn't be nervous here. Tell me, how was your journey from the mountain to here?”

“Cold,” You blurted out, shuddering as you imagined the wind biting your face. Dís smiled at your bluntness.

“Indeed, I imagine it would be, especially if you’ve been out all day. Tell me, was there any sign of them as you came over?”

You shook your head. “Unfortunately no, I could hardly see past my nose once the snow grew thicker.”

“I swear, those boys will be the death of me,” she muttered.

“Just be glad you weren’t Thorin trying to deal with all three of us,” you said without thinking. Dís locked eyes with you, and then started chuckling.

“I do not envy him, based on what I've read of you three. It seems that you made it your entire purpose to create trouble for my brother dear.”

“Well, we tried to. For the first half of the journey, at least. He was much more willing to withstand our meddling before we crossed the Misty Mountains. Then came the orcs, and goblins, and Mirkwood, Laketown, the dragon… and the battle too.” Your face had fallen whilst you spoke, and Dis reached out her hand to comfort you.

“You mustn't dwell on the hardships of the past, child. It does nothing but cause trouble for the mind. Believe me, I know.”

At that moment, Dís seemed to age very quickly, and the wisdom and experience that this dwarrowdam had became clearer. You knew her story well-enough, from nights Fili had needed to find comfort in you, telling you about his childhood and family. Dís had wed Víli Heptifilissøn, and twelve years after Kili had been born, he had fallen ill from the Black Lung*, and had spent months growing weaker and weaker until he perished. Fili was able to remember the wretched coughing, and his Adad’s ragged breaths, as clearly as the day it happened. It was the reason he refused to go deep into coal mines, or else made up excuses. If those memories still hung onto Fili, you could only imagine how horrible it must have been for Dís, who had to watch her husband suffer such a death. Looking at her now, you never felt more in awe of a single person.

“You speak truly, my Lady-”

She looked at you sharply, but with a twinkle in her eyes.

“-I mean, Amad.”

That satisfied her, and she relaxed her hand away. “I do indeed, child. Never has a lie crossed my lips. Except when I told Thorin that he had a mighty spider in his beard.” You chuckled at that, but it quickly turned to a yawn. Dís raised a brow.

“It’s time for sleep then,” she commented, “I’ll leave you in peace to finish eating, and then it’s straight to bed.” Dís stood and went back to her chair, and resumed her book, leaving you to scoop that last of the stew in your mouth. It was not long before you were warm and cozy in your makeshift bed, and Dís bid you goodnight before blowing out the lanterns.

You woke to shouting. In your groggy state, you couldn’t make out the words, and you blinked in the dim light of the fire.

“What new madness arises?” You heard Dís murmur, followed by the sounds of her fumbling about. The shouting grew nearer. “Are you awake, (Y/N)?”

“Only partly,” you replied, trying to untangle the covers from your legs. You shuddered as the extra warmth left, but hurried to your feet, only stumbling slightly. The noise was becoming considerably louder, and your ears could start to make out the words being yelled.

“Get a healer, lads!”

“He looks frozen stiff!”

“SHOVE OFF! WHERE IS AMAD?” Kili’s furious shout snapped you into alertness. At that moment, Dís was able to find a lantern, and finally the tent’s interior was more visible. The flap in front of the tent lifted, and Kili stumbled in, hair frozen with bits of ice and face bright red. With horror, you realized he was supporting another dwarf who was barely conscious. Fili.

You jumped to your feet and rushed towards your betrothed, supporting his other side and lifting his head. Fili’s lips were tinged blue, and his teeth were chattering bitterly, clacking together in a terrible rhythm. Dís was there not a second after you, and she helped guide you all to lay Fili down in the space you had slept just moments before.

“Strip him down,” Dís commanded, starting to work on his boots. You followed her orders without hesitation, helping Kili with Fee’s coat. It didn’t take too long for the three of you to undress him to his underclothes, and you winced when you saw his shoulder looked… definitely not normal. Dís pressed on it gently, and Fili made a weak groan that twisted at your heart.

“He fell off his pony,” Kili said.

“Of course he did. Kili, fetch a healer.” The younger prince sprang up, filled with energy even after being out in a blizzard for nearly an entire day. But he was hardly at the entrance when a grizzled old dwarrow entered, a satchel in hand and a hard look set in his features.

‘‘Hanarr,” Dís welcomed, nodding her head. The old dwarf grunted in acknowledgement before kneeling down by Fili’s shoulder, feeling along the bone. He grunted once more, before looking up at Kili.

“Hold down right here lad,” Hanarr instructed, moving Kili’s hands to rest on Fili’s other shoulder and chest. “Right, hold it firm.”

Hanarr outstretched Fili’s other arm, and began to move it towards his head. A click sounded, and Fili called out, however weakly. His shoulder looked back to normal again, and Hanarr quickly folded his arm against his chest, before searching through his medical pack and pulling out a sling.

“Sit him up, lad.” the healer instructed Kili. He propped Fili up against his side, and this time, Fili held his own head up, his gaze landing on you. Confusion flitted across his nearly-frostbitten features, and he mumbled your name despite of his state.

But Hanarr was upon him again, and soon the sling was fastened to his arm, and the Healer was moving his legs so that they were tucked against his chest. He addressed Kili once more, “Get rid of yer tunic, and stay close to yer brother” and then turned towards you, “do the same, but mind his shoulder lassie.” Without hesitation, you followed his command and soon Fili was sandwiched between yourself and Kili. Dís (with the permission of Hanarr), wrapped several blankets around the three of you, and soon set to work on making some tea. Hanarr presented her with a root of ginger, and, after seeing that all that could be done was done, decided to take his leave.

“He should be fine in a few hours, I'll come back to check on him soon. Keep him awake.” were his final words before departing.

The silence that followed his departure was intense, interrupted only by the sound of the fire, the kettle, and a knife. Dís was the first to speak.

“I would have your hides, if I was not so glad to see you again.” She said in a low voice as she shredded the ginger.

“I’m sorry Amad,” Kili said, eyeing the movement of his Amad’s knife, “Patience has never been my strong suit.” Beside you, Fili shifted and rested his forehead against your temple.

“Indeed not,” Dís replied, her voice heating like the water she was boiling, “How did you convince your brother to join you in this endeavor?” Fili moved again, this time nuzzling his face into your neck and hair, his nose startlingly cold.

“Who said it was my idea?” Kili argued. However, Dís turned her glare on him, and He flushed and murmured, “he wanted to see you too, it didn’t take much to convince him.”

“(Y/N)” Fili said, drawing the attention away from arguing. “ ‘m tired.” He let his head rest heavy against your shoulder, and you (reluctantly) moved him away.

“You must wait to sleep, Kidhuzel,” You said, bringing your hand up to brush his hair away from his face. He opened his eyes wider, in sheer betrayal. You could have smiled, knowing Fili’s tendency to become unreasonably cross when denied sleep, but instead you kissed his cheek.

“Your Amad is making tea for you, and when you drink it, you’ll warm right up.” The blond prince’s eyes dropped once more and he tried moving back to the crook of your neck, only to be refused a second time.

“ I’d prefer Ale,” He muttered bitterly. At this, you did allow yourself to smile.

“Not a chance. Your heart might stop.” He grumbled and detached his uninjured arm from Kili, taking your hand and squeezing it with what feeble strength that had returned to his veins.

“It won’ stop as long as you’re ‘ere.”

Kili snorted, but was silenced as Dís sent him another glare, and you laughed softly, shaking your head and squeezing his hand back.

“If it worked that way, then I would gladly give you the finest Ale, however, I do believe tea would be a better option.”

When the tea was ready, you helped Fili to drink it. At first, the prince had winced at the heat, but soon he drank it gladly, becoming more alive with each sip. You sensed Dís watching you and Fili carefully, but brushed it off, telling yourself she was only concerned for Fili, not observing how you interacted. A small part of you that wouldn’t be silenced said it was both. Soon the mug was empty, and it had apparently helped Fili along much more than you anticipated, and soon he had detached himself completely from his brother and was pulling you closer.

“Careful of your shoulder,” you reminded him.

“ ‘s fine.” He replied, pressing flush against you. His skin had already warmed, thus proving the hardiness and hot blood of dwarrow. Kili scooted away, seeing that he was no longer needed, readjusted the furs covering yourself and his brother, and pulled his tunic back on. Dís immediately walked over and threw another fur across his shoulders, and pulled him into a tight hug, which he returned just as tightly. You averted your eyes when Kili started to sniff and tremble.

“I missed you,” he said.

“And I as well, inùdoy” Mother and son stayed in once another’s embrace, until she drew away and made him drink his fill of ginger tea as well.

A half hour later, you were struggling to keep Fili’s eyes open, and Kili had already crashed on Dís’s bedroll. The dwarrowdam herself grew impatient for Hanarr’s return, and had gone out searching for him. She reentered the tent with him not ten minutes later, and Hanarr (as grumpy and irritable as he was, he was an excellent healer), inspected Fili. Truly, your prince was proof that dwarves were nothing more than portable furnaces, and his temperature was more or less back to normal. He still was a bit out of it, but it was nothing a good night’s sleep wouldn’t fix. Soon Hanarr declared that it was safe for Fili to sleep, and almost immediately, the blond sank into your bedroll and began to snore.

Diís left after Hanarr, telling you to rest and call her if need be. You didn’t question where she was going, and she did not share it with you.

However tired and exhausted you were, sleep would not come. You sat in front of the fire for hours, feeding it and stoking it, keeping your mind entertained with the images dancing in the flames.

You had just finished adding another log to the fire, when a hand lightly gripped your wrist.

“Ghivashel” Fili said faintly. Your head turned towards him, and you smiled despite all things; for while Fili’s face was still red, his hair undone, and his eyes bleary, he was alive and conscious.

“Khuzd allakhul” you scolded, bending down to lean your forehead against his, “What sort of prince are you, to go out in the snow and frighten your lover?” You kissed his lips softly before drawing away just enough to wait for his answer.

“A very foolish prince indeed,” He murmured, his hand on your wrist pulling you back towards him. “But what sort of lover are you, to worry so greatly and come after me in the snow?”

“A very devoted lover, who has half a mind to leave now that you’ve insulted my care of you.” Fili’s eyes widened and he summoned his strength to pull you down, nestled in his side.

“Forgive me, I was not thinking of insulting you, amrâlimê. I just don’t want to see you suffer for my sake. Menu Tessu.” He said, turning his head to press a kiss to your temple. The beads on his mustache braids still felt frozen, but his lips were warm. You smiled and took his hand, entwining your fingers together.

“All is forgiven. So long as you won’t do anything as stupid as that ever again.” you replied. Fili sighed and kissed the side of your mouth.

“I shall try my very hardest not to.”

“That isn’t very reassuring.”

“Then you must forgive me once more, for I cannot make such bold promises whilst Kili remains my brother.”

You both chuckled at this, before settling into comfortable silence. Slowly, your eyes began to drop, the crackling of the fire and the steady rhythm of Fili’s breath making it harder and harder to evade sleep. The fact that the lion prince had begun to rub circles into your shoulder with his thumb wasn’t helping. After the third time you startled yourself awake, Fili’s voice was near your ear.

“You can sleep now, Amralime. I won’t be going anywhere.”

His words were nothing short of a spell, and in less than a minute, your eyes closed and sleep overtook you, a comforting, dreamless sleep, the best kind.

When next you woke, indeed, Fili was still right next to you, awake, but only just. He was blinking the sleep away, and you suspected that his movements had been what had woken yourself. Cold winter light was shining through the tent flaps, cutting like a blade through the warm glow that filled the inside, and a conversation was taking place.

“We left in the wee hours, m’lady, just before dawn. You can imagine the state Thorin was in when he heard that the entire future of Erebor was out in the snow.” The voice of Dwalin more than successfully brought you to awakeness, and you sat up, looking around for the source of his voice.

“Indeed, I imagine he would be weathering the floors with pacing. I expect we’ll be leaving soon, no?” Now Dís spoke, and by this point, you and Fili had turned behind you to see the pair talking over mugs of mulled wine. Kili was also there, however, he was still dreaming on Dís’s previous sleeping roll, limbs sprawled out wide and mouth hung open almost comically.

“Aye, as soon as these three are dressed and ready.” Dwalin said, turning his gaze onto you and Fili, brow raised and the slightest of smiles on his warrior face. “What a lot of worry you and your brother had us in,” he continued, addressing Fili specifically, “I swear to Mahal, you’ve no idea what sort of panic you caused. Course, when yeh come back with your shoulder like that, everyone’ll be doting on yeh. ‘The poor heir who got caught in a blizzard trying to see his Amad’, not ‘the fucking idiot who didn’t have any patience and went out in the night despite knowing there was a storm brewin’.” But all while saying this, there was humor and relief in the warrior's voice, betraying how glad he felt that the boys were not frozen under three feet of ice and snow.

“Both versions are correct,” Fili pointed out, his voice still croaky from sleep.

“Aye, but only the first version will get told.” Dwalin replied, to which you laughed. He turned his focus to you now. “Don’t think you’re innocent lass, Thorin nearly had a heart-attack when we couldn’t find you. Both the heirs missin’ was bad enough, but the lady who’ll be adding to the heirs disappearing made it all worse.”

“Och, Dwalin, she had a noble cause to come out in the snow, you needn’t blame her for anything.” Dís said, coming to your aid.

“Was our cause not noble and justified?” Kili’s voice piped up. The Prince's eyes were hardly opened, but he was more than ready to defend himself from accusations.

“Not when you were to be seeing me in less than a week. If I was able to refrain myself from going out into a blizzard in the late hours, you should have been able to as well.” Dís retorted. A sour expression crossed Kili’s face, but he dared not argue with his Amad.

“Right then,” Dwalin said, “Get yourselves up an’ ready, we’ve not much daylight left to get back to Erebor.”

*Black Lung: Coal miner’s pneumonia.

Kidhuzel: Gold of Gold

Inùdoy: Son

Ghivashel: Treasure of Treasures

Khuzd allakhul: Stupid Dwarf

Menu Tessu: You mean everything to me

(part three will be out soon)

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