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babylooneytoonz · 4 years

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Fear - Tommy Shelby x Fem! Reader

Requested by: Anonymous (Thank you! ❤️)

Summary: Tommy and his second wife, Reader, an independent, successful business woman are living a fairly happy marriage until the reader finds out she's pregnant. Things take a wrong turn when their work life clashes with this news and in the end, the Reader takes a devastating decision. Without consulting her husband.

Warnings: Light angst , mentions of abortion, unplanned pregnancy

A/N: Not my best work, I'm so sorry if it wasn't that good.

Gif credit: @nofckingfighting , @thepeakyfookinblinderss ❤️

By the time you and Mr. Thomas Shelby were celebrating your first wedding anniversary, you were swimming in riches, riches not given to you by your husband in love, but gifted to yourself by you, as a part of self pampering. You had been your parent's only child, a girl, and this is how you had been brought up, extremely loved and pampered, but still carved out in a way to face the hardships like a man. While men and young boys left England to fight the war, which included your father, who never returned, you took it upon yourself to take over his business of running the pub he owned, which automatically fell to you after his death.

Soon, your twenty third birthday was upon you, and you found yourself going to Birmingham city for the first time, with the motive in mind to expand your business and open a pub in Birmingham city as well. But for doing that, you realized you needed a plot, and of course, you needed the Peaky Blinders backing you– because Birmingham City was a city of gangsters, latched to each other's throats, fighting their own internal wars and an independent business run by a woman would hardly grow in a city like this.

So, you'd done what any other person would have done in this city. You had met the leader of the Peaky Blinders, who you had no idea would be your husband just two months after that encounter, with the mind to strike a business deal with him.

Of course, you didn't get the plot you had your eyes on– he was not ready to sell it to you for any price that you named, but you did end up piking the gangster's sudden interest. It was only two days after the meeting you started unknowingly bumping into him at all the odd places– the supermarket, the theater and even outside the railway station when you were travelling to and from London.

Finally, giving in to your own secret temptations– it would have been a lie to say that his icy blue eyes did not haunt you at nights, when you were alone in your cold bed ; or that you didn't think twice about his cheekbones, or imagined his taut chiseled body underneath his ivory shirt– you finally agreed to go out with him. And it was amazing. Tommy Shelby courted you for two months until he finally propped the question of marriage.

You could feel Aunt Polly's piercing gaze on you, but you didn't look up from the file you were going through, doing your math in your head, your glasses pushed over the bridge of your nose.

"Jesus, (Y/N), when was the bloody last time you had anything to eat?"

Polly tapped her manicured fingers against your desk, loud enough to make you snap your head towards her. You almost shrug your shoulders incoherently.

"In the morning? I don't remember."

Polly's lips broke into a weak exhale, her hand reaching out and grabbing your file, pulling it away from you.

"What the fuck?" You protested, trying to take your file back but Polly had it securely held, tucked under her arm.

"Enough, love. I'm not going to bloody sit and watch you starve yourself."

"Pol, I'm really not hungry." You whined but let the older woman drag you along towards the dining room anyway because you really needed to stretch your legs.

You and Polly stepped into the dining room of the Arrowe House, sliding yourselves down on chairs next to each other. While you slowly nibbled on a loaf of bread, Polly sat comfortably, her back resting against the backrest of the chair, a lit cigarette in her hand, her eyes on you. You grabbed the cloth, wiping the remainder of your food from the corner of your lips when a loud gasp escaped your lips. You looked down to see Polly's hand groping at your breast, causing you to wince and slap her hand away.

"For fucks sake, Polly? That hurts!." You snapped at her, only to watch a smirk break out over the corner of her lips.

"Sore you say?"

"Its-Its nothing." You whispered, your face suddenly feeling flushed. It was not a surprise to you, for you had known it since a week. The midwife that lived in back in London, the one your mother often went to, before her death, had confirmed it for you. It had been a week of planning and plotting, worrying endlessly, and you had still not made up your mind whether you wanted to have a baby yet or not.

"Does my nephew know?"

You couldn't help but swallow the bile forming in your throat. You had no answer because you couldn't build up the courage to speak to Thomas about it. You wondered how he would react. Of course, he was just as busy with work as you were. You two had two very similar lives. You were two devoted people, devoted and swimming in work and business. You doubted if there was a place of a baby in either of your lives.

"I peg your silence for a no. Let me ask you this, love. When do you plan on telling him? This is indeed a good news."

You were snapped out of your thoughts when Polly spoke again. You drew a faint forced smile over your lips, a pathetic attempt to mask what you were feeling inside – emotional turmoil. As if on cue, Polly's warm palm took your hand in hers, her fingers clasping shut around yours.

"What's on your mind?"

You parted your lips, unsure of how and what you were going to say to her. How were you supposed to tell her that you didn't think that neither Tommy nor you, were perhaps, ready to be parents yet? Your mind was distracted and your hand unknowingly flew to your almost non existent bump, unconsciously stroking over it. Finally, with a finality in your eyes, you pushed your head up and gave Polly a stare down. You knew what you were thinking was the biggest sin in the eye of God, but somehow, it scared you, thinking how this baby's life would be if you actually decided to have it. You feared how this little life that you had created with Tommy would be subjected to a life neglected by the both of yous. Worst of all, you had this deep, lingering fear coiling deep within the pit of your heart, that maybe Tommy wouldn't want it. So before you could let your own heart shatter, hearing him say how he didn't care for the baby that was growing inside of you, how he would ask you to visit this woman who was an expert to deal with these kind of situations, you will confront him yourself and tell him that before he can say it to you.

"I just – I don't feel so well, Pol." You pursed your lips and lied blatantly to her.

• ───━━━━─ ● ─━━━━─── •

Your eyes were fixed on the massive pendulum of the grandfather clock in the dining room, swinging sidewards, your palms nervously tapping against the surface of the dining table. You were waiting for your husband to return home because you couldn't delay speaking about this anymore to him. A part of you felt guilty for having kept this a secret from him from such a long time, after all, the baby was his as much as it was yours.

He had every right to know, even if you didn't want to keep it.

Your thoughts were disrupted by the sound of the front door opening. You waited a few minutes until a familiar silhouette approached the dining room, the footsteps getting louder and louder, probably owing to the fact that the lights were switched on. Tommy poked his head through the door and when his eyes fell on you, his eyes softened and he walked inside, towards you.

"Why aren't you in bed, love?"

You could see how tired your husband was, his eyes were droopy, dark bags crimson underneath his swollen eyelids, his face a paler shade. He never listened to you – he just worked and worked and worked, pushing beyond his capacities often, pulling in all nighters, mostly when you didn't even have a clue where he was or what he was doing. The truth was, it were all these reasons that made you feel not ready to be a mother, yet. What were you supposed to do alone? You didn't want to raise this child alone. Just having Tommy's name as his father but hardly ever getting to spend time with him, that scared you.

"I wanted to speak to you." There was a deep silence lingering in the room, only to be broken by the sound of your weak voice.

His lips parted in confusion, his usually calm ocean like eyes slightly widened. He gave you a shake of his head.

"Tommy, I –" You swallowed the lump forming inside your throat. Your heart was wildly hammering inside you chest and it felt like it was going to pop out any second. You took a step closer to him, nervously fiddling with your fingers.

"You want a divorce? Is that what this is?" Tommy's words caused you to take a sharp intake of breath.

"No! I – A divorce? No. I just – Tommy, I'm pregnant." You blurted out.

Tommy froze for a split second, only to finally relax in his posture and reach for his box of cigarettes while his eyes were fixed on you.

"Is it true? Are you really?"

His voice was neutral, you couldn't figure out if he was angry or ecstatic.

"I know Tommy, I know we are fucking busy people, and there's no room in our marriage for a baby. Which is why I'm going to go see that woman the next town, to you know–" Your eyes had watered up and your throat suddenly felt parched. You slowly turned to your side, your face now shielded from Tommy's views. You quickly brought up your sleeve to your eyes and wiped your tears.

"You want to go to that woman next town? To get rid of–" It was as though Thomas was repeating your words to himself, his index finger swaying in the air. Suddenly, he took a step closer to you and snatched the lit cigarette from your hand, bringing it up to his lips, casually. He looked so casual, how could you even know that a storm of rage was brewing up inside him.

"Should I not, Thomas? Are you ready for a baby? Are you then?"

A part of you wanted to hear him say yes, a small maternal side of you, that had already started to love that little foetus inside you deeply. That part of you wanted Thomas Fucking Shelby to stop you and tell you that you two could work through it, that he would make this work. A baby. He would love to have one with you.

"I think it would be for good. You should take Polly with you."

It would have been a lie to say that your heart didn't break at his words. Of course, he wasn't ready. You gave him a weak nod of your head and turned around, walking into your bedroom.

Three days passed and the tension between you and Tommy didn't wash away. He barely spoke to you twice in these three days– not that you had wanted him to– you were as mad as he was. With each passing day, your anxiety and your reluctance had grown. But finally, the day was here. Today, Polly was taking you to this woman the next town.

You and Polly sat at the back of the car, a young Blinder boy driving you to the the location. You couldn't bring yourself to meet her eyes at any cost, so you kept your eyes placed on the passing silhouettes of the old, greying buildings.

"Look at me, will you?" Polly's voice beckoned to you, forcing you to sharply turn your head towards you.

Her eyes were soft, you could see pale wrinkles under her eyes. Her warm palm took yours in hers and squeezed it.

"Us fucking women have been always forced to make difficult choices, love. You know I–" Her lips trembled, her eyes started growing moist. "– If I could bloody go back in time, I would stop myself from giving up on my children. I curse myself (Y/N), every night, even though Michael's here with me now, but I missed his childhood. I missed watching him grow. You know you don't have to do this."

You swallowed the lump in your throat and parted your lips, struggling to push words out of your mouth, to vent out how you really felt, so you lied.

"Polly, we are not ready to be parents. The life we live, as long as it's just me and Tommy, it doesn't worry me. But bringing a child into this world of crime, of death, it would be wrong of me to be so fucking selfish."

"And isn't it selfish of you to deny your baby the chance to choose his own life?"

It felt as though someone had wrapped his palms around your neck and blocked out your oxygen supply. Lucky enough, the car came to a halt and the Blinder boy turned towards you, his eyes drawn to Polly as he informed that you were here. Polly nodded and stepped out, you following.

The street was quiet and lonely, with not many souls in view, unlike the bustling streets of Small Heath. The woman's house was the corner most so you and Polly, wrapping your coats tighter against your bodies to shield yourselves of the chilly wind, walked along until you both were standing against an old looking door with a massive lock on it.

"What the fuck?" You cursed, frowning. "Are we at the right address?"

Polly nodded and shrugged, pulling out her box of cigarettes.

"Of course we are, this is where she lived. Wait, I'll ask the neighbours."

You kept standing there, underneath the porch as Polly walked up to the house next door, her heels clicking against the gravelled floor. You saw her talk to a woman with greying hair, their eyes momentarily turning and fixing on you, making you feel uneasy. Soon, the woman had shut the door and Polly was making her way back to you. You could see that there was a faint smirk ploying across her face.

"Well, seems like your husband was here."

"What? Tommy?" Your eyebrows perked up.

She hummed and nodded, her hand mechanically moving up and her cigarette pressed to her lips.

"The woman said that the Peaky Fucking Blinders paid the woman a visit, and ever since, the woman's gone."

It all made sense now. Of course, Thomas Fucking Shelby. You wondered if he had killed the woman, or just threatened her enough to run away.

"Do you know anyone else?"

"Unfortunately not, but I will see what we can do. For now let's just go back love."

• ───━━━━─ ● ─━━━━─── •

You were fuming.

To say the least, your cheeks felt like they were on fire.

Three days.

Tommy hadn't looked you in the eye.

But today you wanted to confront him.

Ask him the reason why he was interfering in women's business.

So you were waiting. Sitting on the loveseat in your shared bedroom with Thomas Shelby, tapping your fingers against your thighs. It was almost midnight when the door to your bedroom finally opened and Thomas walked in, as usual his cigarette held in his fingers. He had probably hoped to find you in bed , sleeping but when he saw the empty bed, his head sharply turned towards you at first before he forced himself to ignore you and move towards the closet to grab his t-shirt and his boxer shorts.

"Where is that woman Tommy?"

You saw him stiffen for a second before turning around and raising his eyes, until his blue eyes were fixed on yours.

"London, Bristol, I don't care where the fuck she went."

You stood up, walking up to him until you were standing in front of him.

"Why Tommy? What the fuck?"

"Why. Why? WHY? If you can decide and fucking come to a conclusion without even letting me know, why can't I eh?" He screamed, causing you to flinch and step back, still furious.

"This isn't fair Thomas, this fucking isn't fair. These are our matters."

Tommy suddenly grabbed you by your arms, his nails almost digging into your flesh as he almost shook you.

"What did you expect me to do? To just let you go and end what we had created?"

Your heart skipped a beat, your eyes filling up with water.

"You said you didn't care." Your words came out a mere whisper and your body felt like jelly, almost ready to melt into his arms.

"Of course, I fucking care. Is that what you fucking think about me? For fucks sake, I - I know I might not be a good father, I might even fucking be like my own father but that doesn't mean I want you to fucking go and end what we created." Tears were brimming in your eyes and when you blinked, they spilled out, warm salty water rolling down your cheek, a faint smile breaking out on your lips. Tommy's expressions softened and he found his palm reaching for your face, his thumb stroking over your cheek, over your tears. "Why did it even cross your mind? The fucking thought of doing what you were going to do."

You closed your eyes for a brief second and fluttered them open again, leaning into his touch.

"How can we be good parents Tommy if we have a life of our own? Where you can't stop risking your life everyday and I'm not even sure if I would fucking see you again?"

Tommy looked like he could kill you. He had a burning red rage lingering in his eyes but yet, he had a soft look on his face, a look that was only reserved for you. He slowly let go off your arms, looking down at your stomach for a quick second and then back up.

"That child deserves to be allowed to live as much as you or I did, (Y/N). I don't care if I have to change my lifestyle. I don't care if I have to give up on some things that I did before this. I want this child, love. I want this. With you."

A small smile broke out against your lips, but as soon as it had broken out, it washed off again, when the realization hit you.

"Tommy, it's not easy. It's a lifetime commitment. From you. From me. It means keeping our baby safe from whatever it is that could potentially harm it."

His warm palms grabbed your cheeks, pulling your face upwards to meet his gaze.

"I promise you love, no one would lay a fucking finger on you or our baby and live."

You knew what he meant was true – every single word of it – and you didn't doubt on what Thomas Fucking Shelby could do for his family. This scared you a little but you closed your eyes, telling yourself to trust on the man that loved you, and who loved the baby growing inside of you, he would never let any harm come to you or your baby.

[ Tagging list : @captivatedbycillianmurphy @theamuz ]

#thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders

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myexplicittarotjournal · 3 years

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🏳️‍🌈 My two long term relationships: when is it time to break one? (Part 2)

So, where did I stop? Oh yeah. I came in like a wrecking ball on our lunch together. Yes, I decided I would tell Charles everything I was feeling. And, of course, I was delusional about him pretending to have a boyfriend to avoid me 😓. The boyfriend was real. And I can't make everything about me.

1️⃣ I'm not (all that) crazy 💣💥

But I was right about everything else. Charles did pretend he did not see my message. And he did ghost me when I most needed him as a friend.

He apologized, but the more he would tell me he was sorry, the more I would get angry at him. And I decided to pay the bill and storm out of the restaurant, determined never to see him again.

2️⃣ Guilty as (not) charged 👩🏻‍⚖️

But not even a few hours later, I regretted it. And I messaged Charles saying I was sorry for treating him like that 👉👈. But this time, he said, he didn't want to see me because even though he apologized, I stormed out of the restaurant angry with him.

Well, I don't want to annoy you, my dear reader, with all that nonsense and drama. Still, after many comings and goings, some more dramatic than others, slowly, with the help of some Buddhist teachings 🕉️, a lot of meditation 🧘, and daily intakes of 100mg of Zoloft 💊, I did come out of my depression. I was able to forgive him, forgive myself, move forward, and forget the past.

3️⃣ Bringing sexy back

One year later after, we slowly started speaking again, and we started having sex too 🍑.

We even had sex without condoms, because as you know, these days, the medication I take is super powerful, and it's impossible for me to transmit even if I was a bad person and wanted it. And I think Charles was also taking the prep, so it was the first time I had sex with someone condomless in a long time, and it was terrific 👌.

4️⃣ To drag or not to drag 🤷🏻‍♂️

To the surprise of no one, his relationship with the bartender twink didn't last long. And he is single again. Today our relationship is not much different from what it was before, but... I don't know. Why do I keep dragging this?

My husband doesn't like Charles, so it's not like I can be a close friend with him. After all, how am I visiting him in Switzerland, as he always invites me, without my husband?

5️⃣ Painful Memories 🧠

And now he's back in Brazil again, he told me through a WhatsApp message. But something happened that triggered those painful memories from when he was a bad friend to me.

Both my parents have got Covid 🦠, and for the last two weeks, I've been driving them up and down hospitals and laboratories for health exams and medical consults.

My dad even had to be hospitalized. But they are both alright now. They've taken both shots of the vaccine, and even though they are elderly, they recovered from this horrible disease apparently with no after-effects 🙏🏻.

6️⃣ People don’t change

Still, when I told him that, he showed absolutely no concern with me. He didn't ask me how I was. How are my parents? He limited himself by sending me pictures of him dining in a fancy restaurant "with plenty social distancing," as he put it.

Why on Earth 🌎 would you talk about yourself when someone just told you he is dealing with Covid on his family?

It's been a week since I've told him, and God forbid, my parents could have died, and he wouldn't know.

7️⃣ Don’t bother me with your problems 💩

So, you know what I mean when I said it triggered me those horrible memories? It seems like he's only interested in having my company when my life is perfect, and I won't bother him with my problems.

I know, I know, the protocol for when you contact people who have Covid is to quarantine for 14 days, but why wouldn't he even ask me how I am?

Maybe he thinks he's too rich to be my close friend. God knows what's in his shallow spoiled mind. And you know what? Why am I even dragging this relationship when it should have ended a long time ago.

8️⃣ Validation Is Not Love ☢️

My best friend Danilo, who I've mentioned before here, blew my mind when he told me:

You don't love him. You want his validation.

And that made so much sense. Yes! I don't love him. I want him because if he accepts me, I'll know that I'm worth as a person even though I'm HIV positive. I need him to confirm that I can be loved even though my status.

And all that needy validation is all in my mind. I don't need Charles's love, his consideration, or anything to know my worth. My sense of worth must come from within me, not from someone else.

And now here I am. I am waiting again for Charles to show me some consideration, or ask me how I feel.

And do I need that? Fuck that self-centered, spoiled bitch 😤. He can give all his attention to his banker friends who are more affluent than him and more worth his time.

9️⃣ What should I do? ❤️‍🔥 HELP!

So now, I ask you, my dear reader, what should I do?

A) Block him from all my social media channels, disappear, and never talk to him again.

B) I'm causing unnecessary drama. Just see him whenever you feel like, have some sex, and that's it. Who cares?

C) Tell him how you feel and "officially" break up with him, explaining how selfish he is.

D) Any other ideas you have (please leave in the comments).

For now, I think I will live my life as if nothing happened. I won't look for him, except if he looks for me, and see what happens if he contacts me. I’ll see how I'll feel about this, and proceed accordingly.

🔟 I'm waiting for your answers, dear readers 🥰.

Oh, and BTW, if you have HIV, depression, relationship problems, and you're looking for someone to talk to, feel free to leave your message here in the comments, and we can chat and sort our problems together. Or make them worse, Lol.

Anyways, I still think that opening up to someone is healing, so feel free to talk to me. I promise I won’t ghost you.

And see you soon 👋.

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mintseesaw · 5 years

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Mad Passion

Pairing: husband!namjoon x reader Genre: smut, fluff, arranged marriage!au Word count: 5.7k Warning: jealousy, possessiveness, mild teasing, unprotected sex

Part 1 | sequel

One of his men said he’s been working in his office at home all day, when you squeezed an information about his location. In some days, he was barely home. Some weeks even spent outside the country for business purposes. So it came a surprise for you to know he’s at home.

Pushing his office door open, you were instantly met by an intense atmosphere, seconded by the booming voice of Namjoon barking instructions to the caller you are unable to identify of. By the sound of his voice and the manner he talks, it could be one of his men. His one hand resting on his hip and his back is facing you, keeping your presence yet unknown to him. Your intention when you came to his office hanging in the air, while calculating your next move. Should you leave and come back later?

Your feet stepping back discretely to create no sound that would make him aware of your presence, or else, he would realize your entrance to his office unannounced. Half scared that he will divert his anger to you.

You were not anticipating his next move. In fact you thought he was too preoccupied from the conversation to even care of moving. Your calculated steps were cut short when he abruptly turns around. He stops mid-sentence at the sight of your presence. His tensed shoulders visibly relaxing. His eyes softening as they lock with your widened ones. His silence didn’t last long, but it was not to speak further with the person on the other end of the line. It was to cut the conversation which seemed to have been going on for longer than you estimated. This time, it was in a much calmer tone, of which his voice still laced with ire with the cause you have no knowledge of.

“Do you need anything, y/n?”

He was curious. You never go to him on your own will, unless if he asks to. When he does, it always comes out as an order. A command that no one will dare say no to. Your attention is always directed to anyone—anything but him. And seeing you here so suddenly piques his curiosity.

“You didnt have to do that, I was about to leave and come back...later.” You spoke, uptight, and your hands fidgeted. His eyes caught it.

Did he make you nervous? You shouldn’t have witnessed him in that state. Among the things about him that he does not want you to see or be aware of, the first on the list is his temper—the untamed beast in him. Now he suddenly finds the need to assure you. That even how angry he can be, never would he lay his hands on you.

Why are you here, again? He recalls you have yet to fill in his curiosity. When was the last time you went to him, again? Was it 2 months ago? When you came to inform him about your decision to go back to the coffee shop you used to work at. Not to mention that it was also the cause of your first serious argument with him. Your decision without consulting him had severely bruised his ego. A wife wants to work at a local coffee shop when your husband could probably be wealthier than all the all the coffee shop owners combined in the city.

He was furious. But his intimidating aura didn’t hinder you to fight back. Of course he has his ways to wring off the reason out of you.

“I just did. Now, do you need anything? Is your card not working?” Concern oddly laced in his voice. You noted.

He gave you the black card, limitless expenses for your needs. If not for his harmless threat which you took in seriously, you wouldn't think of accepting it. Your father gave you one when you went to college. But your will to live independently has you neglecting their financial assistance to your basic needs.

“The black card is not my concern. I didn’t come here just for that.” Your body language— the more he watches it, makes him aggravated the longer you talk in circles, not giving the answer he desires to hear. He took a step forward so that his thighs are pressing against the corner of the desk’s glass surface. He would have gone closer in the absence of it. As your wandering eyes stop at his peering ones, he made sure to leave no trace of emotion in his features, despite having mixed-emotions being with you in the same room.

“Then tell me.” He pressed, growing a little more impatient at your lack of cooperation.

“Your men...the ones who guard me… they harassed my friend.”

That’s it? That’s what made you come to him? A bead of jealousy nurtured through your concern with someone you care about, suddenly enveloping his mind. Your bodyguards are there for the exact same reason. Not only for him to be knowledgeable on your whereabouts, but to protect what solely belongs to him from everyone who threatens to steal you away from him as he’s not always with you to do it himself. The ones closest to you are no exception. They had to keep their distance for their own safety.

“They are protecting you.” Namjoon stated, dangerously calm to believe it is purely casual. He almost wants to shut off the subject and ask you about your day, instead.

When the words went past his lips, slowly comprehending his short statement, your eyes grew wider.

He definitely knew. Everything is reported to him. Every single thing that you do outside under your bodyguards’ watch, he’s full aware of it all. Except when you’re in the vicinity of the mansion.

“Y-You knew?” You stuttered in shock, for you expect the event that occurred just this morning was left unknown to him. You purposely want let him know so you can ask him to change the men in-charge of your security, condemning their inappropriate way of guarding you.

His lips pressed together, if it was to avoid answering your question, you’re not sure. But his silence confirmed it.

“Did y-you tell them to hurt him?”

Violence is not what he ordered for his to do, unless the incident calls for it. What his men did to your friend was not considered violence, he was warned. That you’re not allowed to be touched. Not when you’re legally bind to him. Not ever.

“They are protecting you, y/n.” He insisted, although his composure remains calm and collected, far from what you caught sight of earlier.

“He’s my friend! He’s incapable of hurting me!”

He stood still, his eyes lingers on you, as his lips formed a thin line, having no intention to speak yet. If someone else is treated with his silence and under the scrutiny of his piercing eyes, they would be shaking in fear by now. His thundering voice indicates an imminent adverse, but it is a better option than his silence. Being unable to elicit a reaction from him is the worst kind that can be likened by the calmness of the sky before it devastates the area where a storm lands. By the looks of you now, your head tilted to be able to return his gaze unaffected by his dark stare. He smile inwardly in the guise of the blazing fire of his jealousy, admiring your tough display.

You spoke further amidst his silence, “I didn’t even agree with having bodyguards in the first place.”

“I make the rules here, wife.” He simply reminds you.

His anger is something you wouldn't want to challenge but you have to set your boundaries in this marriage. Although you know, deep in your heart, he’s incapable of violence, him under the influence of his temper is a different story. “Do whatever you want, I don't care. Just...don’t touch my friends, Namjoon.” You stated, mentally shaking away the fear at the thought of being preyed under his fury.

“I cannot promise you that.” A side smirk slowly creeping up in his face, and a shiver ran down your spine from the sight of it.

A captivating man tainted with darkness. Someone you didn't want to get yourself involved with despite the fact that he’s the only man ever elicited a certain emotion within you. If only you were given the option to choose your future, you wouldn’t marry someone like him. Even if you might possibly have unrequited feelings for him.

You swallowed hard.

“Why?” You asked in a breathy whisper.

“I told you, sweetheart, I’m protecting what’s mine.” The endearment left you stunned. He was able to capture it under his scrutiny.

You have no idea how you recovered from your mild flabbergasted state. The next thing you know is you’re opening your mouth to remind him the real score between you and him.

“We both know what kind of marriage we have. There’s no need to stake your claim.” You challenged, feigning bravery with your unwavering stare.

“It doesn’t change the fact that you're my wife.” His smirk didn't falter and it’s severely affecting your agitation.

It was no longer the case when you spoke again. “I may be your wife, but you don’t own me.”

Like a breeze washes over you, you froze as his eyes grew darker piercing through yours, so sharp that you think it could almost hurt you, physically.

“What did you say?” He dangerously drawled, so painfully excruciating. You didnt dare speak again. Too consumed with fear to anger him further.

He strutted slowly, and with his towering height, he was able to close the distance with three long strides. His sudden move surprised you, that it was already too late to step back as he caught both of your arms, making sure to keep you immobile.

“Namjoon...“

You slightly flinched and your head lowering so you wouldn’t meet his dangerous eyes when he dipped his head to whisper right next to your ear marking you through his words alone. “You belong to me.” You didn't know how you gathered the strength to squirm in his captive. To get away from him. Having the obvious advantage, he didn't even budge as you try to push him away.

“You’re not going anywhere.” He stated so casually but in a lingering tone of warning. As if he would do something if you try to disobey him.

Your temporary inability to see his face seems to give you comfort under the severe effect he has from your proximity with him.

Namjoon is too close to your liking. His hand traveled to your cheek, then traces his fingers down your chin to level it up to his gaze. His dark eyes scream danger, but you were left unmoving from his arms. It should have made you fear for your life, for your security, so you should have tried to step back to protect yourself. But his nearness was making you strangely mute.

The sight of him alone activates your senses. He was not your first, but for you to desire someone requires your attraction towards the person. Namjoon is exquisitely attractive, a beautiful man, whom you’ve admire with not only for his physical flawlessness but also for his exceptional intelligence and his soft heart you’ve witnessed with your own eyes.

And right now, the tiny space you have in between is not helping your effort to clear away the wild thoughts running around your head. In fact, it severely adds up to your pooling desire of him. One which has never been satiated after your first and only night with him. The same night you married him in a civil arrangement.

The way his eyes never faltered, raking you all over sensually. He moved his head, burying his face on your neck. Taking in your alluring natural scent. The move alone shoots a sensation right at his length that is hardening the longer you stay this close with him when he can just do anything he wants. Anything. To relieve his long, unsatiated desire inside your deliciously tight core.

Namjoon’s hand loosened its hold on your arm and instead, circled it around your waist which allowed him to pull you further against him. The force of his pull without any kind of resistance from you causes a hard impact on your bodies. His move was fast and calculated, because the moment your chest collided with his, his palms cupped both of your cheeks and crashed his lips to yours. It didn’t prepare you enough, and you were left unresponding for a second before your needle-like strength to repel his deed, to fight your own need, gave in.

Entirely envelope with desire, you remained submissive under his hot kisses. His mouth, sucking and biting and playing with your tongue. It was there. His possessiveness. You can feel it through the manner he takes your mouth, to the way he keeps you close to him.

And your clouded mind is willing to be marked again in any way that he would.

Until you felt something on your stomach. A hard bulge. The proof of his arousal. Suddenly, guilt flicker through you—for what? Namjoon is your husband. Sticking for your conscience, you mustered up all the strength left in you to resist his advances.

“Stop…” It came out a sound of weak muffled against his dominating mouth.

“You don’t want this?” He echoed, tearing his mouth away from your bruised pair of lips just to suck a spot on your neck. The spot he once marked, and bruised it purple on your first night together.

“Why is that so hard to believe...” Namjoon darkly whispered.

Your hand unconsciously went up on his hair, tangling your fingers in between his locks. Your grip was firm but not enough to extract a sensation of pain from his scalp—until he went further down to nuzzle your clothed breast, his other hand squeezing the other that you let out a sound of strangled moan mixture of pain and bliss that your hand aggressively pull his hair.

He left the sensitive mound then went back north to trail kisses on your jaw, chin and on the corner of your lips. His mouth which you crave to touch with your mouth—intentionally avoids your lips.

Your voice croaked breathily as you plea for contact, “Namjoon,”

“You don’t want this, right?” He teased seeing as you’re visibly delirious from his ministrations when he pulled away. Your body feels hot and your limbs—like a jello, that you would have met the marble floor sooner if not only for his firm hold around your waist. His reflex further let your bodies even closer. You didn’t care. But the one thing which you anticipate impatiently is not happening it seems. Namjoon is doing nothing other than keeping you standing on your toes.

“Please,” you couldn't believe you’re hearing yourself beg, barely recognizing your voice.

“Please what, sweetheart?” He murmured against the skin of your throat, nibbling it. You heard him, but his words went past your ear without being comprehended. Too delirious to heed on anything but his kisses. Your eyes are tightly closed, thus, your temporary inability to see made you much more sensitive from your other senses. Especially your sense of touch.

His mere contact reminds you he’s this close to you, trailing hot kisses from your neck and shoulder. Excitement bubbles up in you when his hand traveled down the waistband of your pants, skimming inside so he can palm you through your wet underwear. To feel your arousal. The simple act left you even more desperate than you already are.

You want more of him, and you want him to touch more of you.

“How come you’re soaking, sweetheart?” He taunted sensually.

No reply came out of your mouth, throwing your head back crying instead, as you felt him thumbing your sensitive nub. One of your hands flew to his shoulder over his back to find something to cling on. The other tightening their grip on his hair.

His assault didn't stop as he continued to strum your bare clit and you’re not even sure how long you’ll last before reaching the end from having no sexual activity since you married him.

To your delight, Namjoon inserted two long fingers into your leaking hole which made you cry from the abrupt entrance. Stretching your walls enough to make you writhe in his captive of which is initially to keep you intact on the ground. He didn't give you time to adjust as he fingers started stroking deep inside you.

The sight in front of him is what he’s been fantasizing to do to you. To make you feel good...and more.

When he curled his fingers inside your hole sucking him tight, a particular moan emitted past your beautiful, luscious lips. His name left your mouth repeatedly.

A fucking music to his ears. His dick jerking at the sound alone, suffocating his intensifying arousal that the painful restriction of his slacks is getting too difficult to ignore. He suddenly withdrew his hand.

And then all the sensation stops. You suck a deep breath, surprised and deprived at the lost of contact. A sound of protest came past your throat, too desperate for a proper release. Your eyes snapped open, wanting to know why he briefly stopped. Ready to beg for more.

You couldn't see his face, as he has it buried in your neck.

“Mine.” He claimed. His ragged breathing is doing nothing but amplifies your hunger. He had you all weak and motionless when all he did is kiss you and touch you down there.

He grinded his bulge against your center which you gasped in return. “You want it, my sweet little slut?” He taunted playfully, tormenting you further. His mouth found the shell of your ear, biting it gently.

“Yes,” You responded in a breathy whisper.

“You’re mine.” He went further. A strong arm circled your waist, silently taking you with him as he strutted forward, your feeble strength easily allowed him to push you into the long tuxedo couch far across his furnished table. He spun you around and coaxed you down so that you’re kneeled on the cushion, your arms instinctively planted on top of the inside back for support, anticipating his move. He remains where he stood, right behind you.

“Namjoon.” Whining, disregarding his claim earlier when he seems to have no plan to take you yet.

“Right, sweetheart?” He attempted, fishing for your submission. You felt his fingers hooked on the thin waistband of your panties, then harshly pulled it together with your pajama bottoms. His moves are precise when he nudge your knees up one after the other using his hand to fully remove the material off of your feet while you’re slightly trembling from the prolonged anticipation. His hand went in between your ajar thighs to part them further, caressing the inside of your thighs and teasing you more.

The new position gives you no opportunity to see see him clearly. And even though he is close, by the way he has his hands are rubbing softly on the skin near your center, it was not enough. You want to watch him—observe his features while you two are intimately connected.

”Did you say something, baby?”

What? You were uncertain what he’s referring to.

And then he pressed his hips behind you, grinding his crotch into your bare, leaking core. His hand sneaking past for your stomach, flicking your clit in a circular motion.

“Oh fuck yes yes.” You moaned, not minding how desperate you sound.

“Oh my—“ His thumb rubbing your clit mercilessly. Two long digits from his unused hand once again found its way inside you, “Namjoon!”

You became too sensitive that you’re sure you can come any second, now.

Your high-pitched voice echoed through the room when he withdrew his hand for the second time of the night. Crying out, “No, please… please…” Attempting to peer behind your shoulders to look at him, his hand on your shoulder firmly kept you in place restricting you from doing so.

Then you heard a belt buckling. That was the only your senses allowed you to know and then his hand is back on your skin. This time it was on your waist that he is clasping tight, keeping you securely close to him.

“You want to cum, y/n?” He asked so suddenly. You didn't know why he still needs to wring it out of you when the mere sight of you already provides the answer.

You vigorously nodded. “Yes, please.” If it weren’t for your clouded mind, you wouldn’t be so vocal about your desire towards him.

The cushion beneath your knees dipped a little as he placed his foot up near your right leg. Your core clenched and your head thrown back when he unexpectedly rubbed his hard length into your center. Sliding it painfully slow. Wanting more, wanting it where you ache the most. Please...

“Then who do you belong to?”

“Namjoon, please.” You. The intention to verbalize the word was restricted down your throat. Choking, when you felt the head of his cock at your entrance. He stilled when you left no respond from his question.

“Answer me!” He demanded dangerously.

You gave him what he wants to hear, hoping that he would give in.

“I’m yours, only yours—fuck!” The moment Namjoon heard the magic word, he bucked his hips, ramming his dick inside you in a ruthless pace making you scream from the excruciating intrusion. Your back arching, your eyes rolling from the back of your head from the severe stimulation. Too much of what you can take. His hard and thick length filling you so full, being extremely stretched that the pleasure was overpowered by pain. But you didn’t mind. It has been too long since he last fucked you that you can take anything that he offers. On the other hand, the sounds pouring from your mouth indicates how good you feel despite the pain.

Your thighs trembling from the pressure of keeping you in your position, your body quivering from the endless pleasure as Namjoon brought you to your peak.

“Fuck!” He growled, “You’re gripping me so tight, sweetheart.”

His hands firmly planted on your waist and the faster he thrusts into you the tighter his fingers dig onto your skin that you’re certain they will leave a fingerprint on your skin. Meeting you halfway as his hands on your waist pull you back to him every time he slides off emptying your walls then quickly fill you again, stretching your walls deliciously.

He kept his pace fast and hard.

“Nam— shit! Oh God!” You moaned, loudly.

If there is energy left in your body, it probably lies in your hands and knees trying to keep yourself up as he pounds you relentlessly.

“That good, huh?” He said in between his thrusts, giving your behind a faint slap.

He feels good, knowing where to stroke, and when to go fast making your walls involuntarily convulse around his thick shaft. It hasn’t been long, but you knew you’re already close, you could feel the familiar building up at the pit of your stomach and spreading rapidly to your abdomen.

“Please…I-I’m…” You stammered, feeling too lost for words that you couldn’t find the the strength to finish your statement.

“You’re what, baby?” His tone is controlled, concealing any hint of desire in his voice.

His strokes were fast and deep. You could feel it coming down on you.

“Namjoon, please!” You beg deliriously for him to keep going as you feel it approaching.

The way his palms dug deeper on both of your sides indicates that he knows you’re close. His thrusts went abnormally faster that you stopped breathing, mouth ajar as you suck in oxygen but never releasing a breath out.

Despite feeling too lost from the intense pleasure, his sounds laced with pleasure didn’t escape your senses. His steady strokes on your walls and the grunts coming past his mouth pushing you further in the brink.

“Namjoon!” You whined before a scream ripped out of you as an intense orgasm hits you. The remaining strength you have suddenly evaporating as pleasurable waves wash through you, making your head fall forward on the inside back cushion.

He just fucked you. In his office. Is it a regular thing for him to do it here? It shouldn’t matter, because for you, what you two physically shared gives you something. Another memory to recall of. Especially when you’re yearning for him, wishing that things are different. That he sees you as someone he’s attracted to or someone he has genuine feeling with. And not someone he’s obligated to tend to, someone he can fuck only because it’s his right.

Your clenching insides stutter his strokes impedes him a little to go even deeper than intended, but nonetheless your convulsing muscles has put him on edge. Your walls choking his length tightly is enough to feel himself nearing the end. Few thrusts in and out after your orgasm and he’s already coming undone moaning your name for the first time and spilling his seed deep in your core. Wishing that you’re not on birth control so he could possibly make you conceive.

Feeling him intimately— it’s different. And it doesn’t matter if it’s not the same for him. You’re not asking for his feelings to reciprocate yours. For now, you can be complacent despite having no assurance that your emotions will be secured in the future.

Bearing your last memory, was when he urged you to lie down and wiped you clean, not realizing that darkness is already enveloping your senses. Unaware of what has occured after that.

Unknown to you, Namjoon carried you towards your shared bedroom.

When he came back to you after he disposed the used tissue, he expected anything but your figure sleeping soundly on the couch, with your head lying uncomfortably on its arm. If only the couch is appropriate to be slept on, he would let you sleep on it while he watches you across his desk.

When he has placed you on the mattress, covering your body up until your shoulders with the thick cover, he discarded his work attire which he was unable to do so when he has ravished you earlier.

His hunger has been long overdue that even the sense of unbuttoning his dress shirt was disregarded as he could wait no less than a moment.

He proceeded to the large bed beside you after putting on a sweatpants. To watch you for a while before sleeping.

There was never a night that passes without him watching you while you sleep. It was always you who sleeps first and he makes sure you are when he enters the room late at night. His days and nights are always spent at work, intentionally. He permits no time for himself to see you or talk to you longer than the simple greetings, because your presence —he craves for it, despite showing no emotions every time you’re around. The least he could do is to pretend.

It was four years ago—the first time he saw you. At a coffee shop. He knew there was something extraordinary with you aside from the fact that you seemed unfit to be there despite wearing the same uniform like the rest of the baristas. Out of place. To be behind the counter, taking orders from strangers, customers.

He was infatuated, even though the only thing he knows about you is your name and the coffee shop you work at. He has all the connections and sources to dig information about you, but he restricted himself from touching your life—even as having a glimpse of it. For several months—ten months to be precise he complacently watch you from afar. Stopping by on the cafe for a few minutes on his way to work. Time passes so quickly because when you’re gone, nowhere in sight inside the establishment, months seemed only days. He has the means to search for you, but it would be useless. He wouldn’t have you, anyway. Someone like him does not deserve to have you in his life.

He was only infatuated. That was what he kept reminding himself of whenever an image of you regularly visits his mind. It was nothing but a mere admiration.

None of his wildest dreams of you have prepared him for what was offered to him years after. Merging of companies he does not need, thus, all that attempted to offer him have been turned down without taking a first look on the proposals.

But one among all those stood out.

It was you having his last name— if he accepts your father’s business deal.

The infatuation has gradually nurtured the longer he has you in his life. Yet, until now, he’s not making a move that could, perhaps, get you to like him. Or at least, will make you comfortable around him.

What did he to deserve this life? To have all the things his money could afford, and to have the woman of his dreams. Although the latter holds the much more relevance than the other.

He scooted closer so he could reach for your hair and cheeks. Stroking light caresses as not to wake you up. You look so peaceful, so pure, like an angel, and small compared to his figure. He was rough. There was no he couldn’t have physically hurt you. If there was any indication of any pain you’ve felt while he was ravishing you raw, he’s certain he didn’t see or hear one. You took all of it, responding only with pure bliss.

His heart skipped a beat when you stirred, whispering his name as your brows furrowed like you’re calling for him. Although out of conscious, you have found him through your searching hand and snuggle deeper into him burying your face further in his chest.

He stilled in his position for a second, before hesitantly circling his arms around you.What would you think when you wake up with him cuddling you like this? He has no idea. And he shook his conscience away, embracing the chance to touch you. Twice of which he only got when he initiated an intimacy with you. His lips pressed softly against the top of your head before closing his eyes shut.

You woke up at the unfamiliar sound of a phone ringing. It must be his phone. Your intention to stir, to turn to the other side halted from something hard and warm wrapped on your waist. The object is warm and seems like a human—is it...him?

The blaring noise rings your ears as it was kept unanswered. Your eyes fluttered open, momentarily seeing nothing, as your nose is flushed against his warm neck. Tilting your head, you recognized the familiar room. The master’s bedroom. Your last memory was in his office. How you got here remains a mystery to you, yet. You wiggled a little in an attempt to pry his limbs off of you.

And while you attempted to move, you heard him groaned. Is he awake? Your cheeks heat up when you realized he’s half naked. However, you made no move to push him away. Although your head is now on the pillow next to his, while your body remains locked in his arms..

You crane your neck to see his face. With his eyes closed, he reached out for the device in his bedside table as if he knew where he placed it before he slept last night.

He pressed the phone right on his ear. His eyes traveled to your figure the moment he peeled them open. A flicker of surprise hinted in his eyes before it disappears.

You heard him spoke briefly then put his phone back to where he got it from. It was unclear what it was about and why he seemed to abruptly cut the call short as your mind is still clouded from being forcefully woken up by the loud ringing of his phone.

His bare chest giving you a silent reminder about what happened last night. You’re even scared to discover whether he wears something to cover his bottom or it’s just the duvet doing the job. You hoped it’s the former.

“Good morning.” He greeted softly with his morning voice. Raspy and low.

You didn’t know how to act like you normally used to, especially after what happened last night. The things you did last night—there’s one thing to sum it up. You’re desperate to be fucked. It gets much clearer now, further recalling all the details that occured. The tinted crimson visible on your cheeks never fading. You’re ashamed, does his perception of you change now?

“Good morning, Namjoon.” You replied shyly.

Hesitantly, you spared him a glance and created a little movement to give him a signal that you’re getting up. His arm that’s securely wrapped over your back fell on the bed to give way.

When you have stood up and is on your way towards the bathroom, he spoke not to your expectation, “You have classes today, right?”

“Yeah.” You turn on your shoulders to peer at him. He was already sat up on the edge of bed. A sigh of relief past your lips silently as you notice a fabric poking through the duvet that is covering his lower body.

“I’ll be working all day here in my office.” He casually stated.

Your eyebrows forming a line in confusion. Why is he sharing this information all of a sudden?

“Okay? That’s...good I g-guess.”

He chuckled, “What I mean to say is, maybe, you want to go out tonight?”

Your eyes remains at him, “Like...dinner?” You trailed.

“Yeah, if you’d like that then we’ll have dinner.” He nodded.

“Uh...I’m fine with that, if you’re not busy?”

He gave you a smile one that showed his dimples.

You clearly don’t understand what just happened. He asked you out? He never did that before. What has changed?

Hope you enjoyed reading the first part.

#namjoon x reader #namjoon smut #namjoon fluff #hyunglinenetwork #btsprotectnet #bts smut #bts x reader #namjoon x you #namjoon x y/n #namjoon imagines #namjoon scenarios #namjoon fanfic #namjoon au #bts au #bts fanfic au

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justanotherlifeff · 3 years

Text

Levi Ackerman × reader

Genre: Angst, Hurt/comfort, Fluff, matured themes, slowburn

Warning: There's mentions and descriptions of underage rape and suicidal themes and self harm and other triggering stuff.

No one's POV

Year 845: The day when wall Maria fell

"(Y/N)! Thomas! It's time for breakfast!" Gloria shouted from the dining room. Thomas, (Y/N)'s father, was sitting with (Y/N) in the living room. One of them busy with paperwork and the other with an interesting book borrowed from Erwin. (Y/N) didn't have training sessions with Erwin for a while, as he was on an expedition. He was supposed to return by now, but, he would be going to Wall Rose directly. (Y/N) kept her book down and followed her father out of the room to the dining room. "(Y/N), I cooked potato pancakes for you. Aren't they your favourite?" Gloria, (Y/N)'s mother told (Y/N) with a smile.

"Thank you" (Y/N) said softly, with her usual frown etched up on her face. It pained both Gloria and Thomas (L/N) that their adoptive daughter, no, they saw (Y/N) as nothing less than their own child, couldn't show emotions properly. It started after the incident with Jacob, one that they regretted ever since it happened. Only if they had the faintest idea of what that wretched man was doing to their beloved daughter... They consulted doctors from wall Rose to make sure (Y/N) is back to normal but the doctors only told them to be careful and not let (Y/N) get hold sharp objects.

They assumed (Y/N)'s aggression had something to do with her past in the underground, much like her self harming habits. They didn't know, however, that this would only push (Y/N) away from them. It's true that (Y/N) couldn't show emotions properly, but, that didn't mean the (L/N)s would love her any less. The day passed by normally, and just as Gloria was washing their plates for lunch, with the help of (Y/N), there was the sound of a huge explosion. "Gloria, stay with (Y/N) inside the house. I'll go see what that was" Thomas told the two of them before getting out. They waited for about fifteen minutes before a Garrison soldier knocked at their home.

"The wall of Shiganshina is breached! Gloria-san, your husband is helping with the evacuation. We need you to go to the barracks and gear up." the soldier said hastily. "Okay. Cadet Schultz, take (Y/N) to the evacuation boats. I'll catch up later" Gloria told him calmly. (Y/N) was witnessing everything. She knew enough about titans. She read about them in the books of Erwin's library. "Mom, I want to go with you" she told Gloria. Gloria looked at (Y/N)'s eyes, surprised that her eyes showed more emotions than she ever saw her express. There was fear, concern, love... "Honey, it's dangerous. I promise I'll be back before you know it with your dad." Gloria smiled as she felt (Y/N) hug her tightly. She knew that the chances of making through this was low. Very low. "Go now. We will be fine." she told (Y/N) before sending her off to the boats.

(Y/N) was sitting on the boat, hugging her legs. There were too many people here and she couldn't see any of her parents. There were no other soldiers here on this boat. "Maybe the soldiers are coming on a different boat?" (Y/N) thought. When the boat docked in Wall Rose, (Y/N) saw Erwin Smith standing there on the dockyard. She pushed through the crowd to go to him. When she reached him, she asked, "Are my mom and dad okay? Where are they?". "(Y/N), we don't have news about the soldiers fighting there yet. We will know by the next day. Right now, I need you to come with me. You won't be staying with the refugees as it is not safe. I arranged a home for you. You'll get good food, good clothes and a good place to sleep there." Erwin explained with a smile.

(Y/N) held his hand and went to the place he mentioned. It was a government run orphanage. Erwin mentioned that he had to pay money to let them take an extra child at this time. The matron looked like a kind motherly looking woman to (Y/N). "Be nice to everyone. Okay? I'll bring news about your parents as soon as I can." Erwin told (Y/N) with a kind smile before he left. (Y/N) remembered that something like this happened before.

"Don't be scared. You are safe now. No one will hurt you again." the blonde man told (Y/N) as he used a hairpin to unlock her cuffs. (Y/N) was huddled into a corner, scared that these men will take advantage of her like every other time. "It's okay. Everything will be okay. What's your name dear?" he asked with the same kind smile. "(Y/N)" (Y/N) managed to croak out. "Nice to meet you, (Y/N). I'm Erwin. Everything is going to be okay." he said, smiling. Everything didn't become okay.

"Was it happening again?" (Y/N) thought. "No. It can't be happening. They promised me that they will be back" (Y/N) brushed away the thought.

The next day

It was dawn. (Y/N) was sleeping on the bed assigned to her. The other children didn't talk to her yet as she spent most of her time in the matron's office. The matron was an amazing woman. She was nice to (Y/N), tried to give her as mental support as possible and made food almost as tasty as her mother. "(Y/N) dear? Wake up. Erwin Smith is here..." the matron called (Y/N), her face concerned. The whole orphanage was quiet, none of the other children were awake yet. (Y/N) walked towards the matron's office with the matron, a walk that seemed to go on for eternity. When she reached, (Y/N) saw Erwin sitting there, looking tired. "(Y/N)..." he started but (Y/N) interjected by saying, "They are dead, aren't they?".

There was no visible emotions in (Y/N)'s eyes. After all, she felt dead. Just her body was still functioning. It happened again. "Yes. Your parents died heroically, saving many citizens with their lives" Erwin told her, trying to make her proud. "They broke their promise. They left me too. They are no different from other people. They are just as bad as everyone else." (Y/N) stated, as if she was in a daze. "(Y/N), I'm sorry.." Erwin tried to say but (Y/N) stopped him. "It's not your fault, uncle Erwin. It's them." she told him, before walking to the bathroom. "I need something sharp..." she thought as she searched the bathroom for a blade.

A week later

The matron introduced (Y/N) to the other children as she decided that (Y/N) couldn't curl up in her office with a book forever. After all, (Y/N) was a permanent resident. There were twenty other children in the small orphanage. (Y/N) of course, didn't give any heed to their names at first because, of course, it was all pointless. What was the point of being alive anyway? What did she have left? Except her uncle Erwin? She was sure that he was strong enough to deal with her death anyway. He was the one who made her as strong as she is now.

It's because of him, she's still fighting. After the matron went away, telling (Y/N) to talk to the other kids, (Y/N) simply went to a corner of the room and start reading the book in her hand. It was the books and the agony in her body from the cuts she made on herself that kept her mind at bay from the death of her parents. She, of course, stole bandages from the matron's office to keep the bleeding at bay so that she wouldn't die. The cuts weren't too deep, just deep enough to sting for a whole day and heal up. She just had to make more cuts after it healed up.

"Oi brat, you think a newbie like you can just sit and read shit without working?" a young boy, much bigger than (Y/N) walked towards her, with another girl and a boy with him, all of them bigger than her. (Y/N) merely looked up from the book with a vacant expression. "Don't give me this look, you shit! Go do the dishes!" he shouted. "Isn't the matron supposed to assign chores? I remember doing mine this morning." (Y/N) answered to him calmly. "Listen, newbie, we make the rules here. Go do the dishes!" the leader of the group tried to speak in a menacing voice.

"I refuse to do it unless the matron asks me to" (Y/N) simply answered but just as she did, the boy took the book from her hand and tore it in half. "You two, get her" he ordered the other two kids who started kicking (Y/N). (Y/N) could’ve easily beaten them up but she remembered the advice from Erwin. "Be nice to everyone" he said. (Y/N) didn't flinch even when they hit her in the areas with cuts, she was accustomed to pain. After all, she always had these habits and also went through training with Erwin.

These went on for a week. When those kids, Sean (the leader), Lena (the girl) and Paul (the other boy) found out that (Y/N) doesn't react to beatings, they started picking up on her in different ways. One day, they poured horse shit in her drawer full of clothes. The other day, they burnt all her books. (Y/N) still didn't move from her decision to do their chores for them. After a week, Erwin came to visit. Erwin decided to visit (Y/N) every week, to brush up on her training. Her training was complete before the fall of wall Maria, but, he still decided to spar with her sometimes, so that she wouldn't loose her practice.

Erwin also was fond of the small girl, almost as if she was his own daughter. It's true, Pixis asked him to train her in the first place and also got (Y/N) the place in the orphanage using his power in Trost, however, as Erwin trained her, he realized that she was going to be a deadly weapon if she ever joined the military, or the survey corps. Erwin, however, wasn't keen on her joining the survey corps due to the mortality rate. He didn't want (Y/N) to die as she was almost like the daughter he never had. Erwin was a ruthless person but, (Y/N) seemed to be one of the very few soft spots he had. As he sat in the matron's office, he saw a calm but angry looking (Y/N) enter the room. He figured something was wrong. "(Y/N), is everything okay?" was his first question to her.

"I don't like this place." (Y/N) simply replied. "Why is it? Did someone bother you?" Erwin asked, concerned. (Y/N) explained everything that happened in the past week to Erwin. "Why didn't you fight back then?" Erwin asked, quiet surprised that (Y/N) took a few beatings. (Y/N) wasn't the type of person who would take beatings without counterattacking. At least that was how it was during training. "You told me to be nice to everyone" (Y/N) grumbled. "Well, did you complain to the matron?" Erwin asked. "I did. She scolded them but that only increased the problem" (Y/N) explained.

"I see. Well, I know I told you to be nice to everyone but that doesn't mean you won't use self defence when required." Erwin advised. "So, I can beat them up?" (Y/N) asked, with an evil glint in her eyes. "Yes but stay in your limits. Don't make any permanent injury." Erwin said cautiously. (Y/N) was still a kid and kids couldn't be trusted much when they are angry. "Oh don't worry. I'll just scare them a bit." (Y/N) answered with a sly smile that worried Erwin even more. With that, they went to a nearby field to brush up on the training by sparring.

That night, (Y/N) sneaked into the matron's office to find a stack of newspapers. She saw the stack in the matron's shelf before when she took a book from there when she first arrived. After searching for a while, she found the newspaper she was looking for, the one from 6 years back. The one with the news of the murder of Jacob. After taking the newspaper, (Y/N) sneaked into the kitchen to get a knife.

She walked into the boy's dormitory to find Sean sleeping on his bed. "Oi, Sean" (Y/N) called out. "Huh? What?" Sean got up, still sleepy. "What the hell are you doing here. Are you really itching to get beaten?" he growled after seeing it was (Y/N) who called him. "I don't intend to have a single scratch by you on my body, Sean. However, I can't say the same for you" (Y/N) answered, putting in a psychotic smile on her face as she brought her knife out in the open as it glinted in the moonlight coming from the window in the room. The whole room of boys were awake now. (Y/N) suddenly threw the knife backwards, which stuck to a bed post along with the fabric of the night shirt of Paul near his hand, thus keeping his hand in place.

Paul was white with fear as it happened and (Y/N) simply said, "Paul, don't try to move or come at me with the knife. It's going to get in your stomach in that case". She then threw the Newspaper at the now intimidated Sean's face before saying, " Read the headline.". The whole room of boys were watching, scared by (Y/N)'s sudden change in demeanour. "8 year old brutally kills soldier". Sean read before pausing. "(Y/N) (L/N), an 8 year old child from the Shiganshina district, killed Jacob Meyer, a garrison soldier from Thomas (L/N), (Y/N) (L/N)'s adoptive father's squad. Jacob's eyes were gauged out and throat was slit and his head was almost severed by what seemed like at least 20 stabs. About (Y/N) (L/N)'s past, all that is known is that she was rescued from a whorehouse in the upper class pleasure district in the underground..." Sean continued but his voice faded.

(Y/N)'s picture was drawn on the newspaper. They had no idea who they were messing with. "Well, that's enough. Now answer me, who else wants to end up like that piece of garbage?" (Y/N) asked in a cold voice. No one answered. "That's a good choice. Now," (Y/N) started as she moved towards Paul and pulled the knife out of the bedpost, "all of you, don't mention that I was here tonight. And yes, no one will be listening to these two worthless garbage here anymore or their so called friend. No one will do one extra work than what's assigned to them by the matron. Am I clear?" (Y/N) finished. Some kids were crying as they were intimidated but all of them nodded or muttered yes. "Good. Oh, and, don't bother me when I'm reading. Just leave me alone okay?" (Y/N) told before leaving the room with the newspaper and the knife so that she can keep those in place again without anyone realising.

Year 847:

It had been two years since (Y/N) started living in the orphanage. After that day, no one messed with (Y/N) again, and, no one listened to those three bullies ever again either. However, every good thing always came to an end. "Commander Smith, (Y/N) is already 16 years old. She's an adult now and we usually look for a groom for anyone who is of age in our orphanage. If you gave me the permission, I would've looked for someone suitable" the matron told Erwin. Erwin was called to the orphanage after (Y/N)'s so called 16th birthday according to her birth certificate. "Well, I suppose? I just didn't think that she will get married so soon..." Erwin started but (Y/N), who was also sitting in the room and listening to the conversation, stopped him and said, "Exactly. I am not getting married so soon.".

"But (Y/N), you're of age and it's against orphanage policies..." the matron started but was interrupted by (Y/N) as she said, "I understand that. I'm joining the military.". "(Y/N), you are not joining the military." Erwin simply answered. "Why not? Am I not of age? Am I not allowed to make decisions now? If I'm old enough to get married, why am I not allowed to join the military?" (Y/N) asked casually. "(Y/N), it's dangerous unless if you join the military police." Erwin sighed. He knew where it was going. "You really think I will join the military police, Uncle Erwin? I'm joining the Survey Corps. I'll kill those bastards who took my parents away from me." (Y/N) said as the matron shouted, "Language (Y/N)!".

"Very well. I have to ask you though, (Y/N). Could you die if you're asked to?" Erwin asked (Y/N). "Depends on why you are asking me to die. If the reason is valid enough, then I am ready." (Y/N) answered. "Well, (Y/N), on missions, I can't look out after you. I might have to send you to your death if required because on expeditions, I'm your commander, not your uncle." Erwin told (Y/N) coldly. "I understand." (Y/N) answered. She enlisted to the 104th trainee corps the next day. "I won't let myself be hurt again" she thought as she wore her uniform, leaving the orphanage for good. The (Y/N) from four years back didn't know that it will keep happening again (Jacob) and again (death of parents) and again (death of squad Levi) and... Again...

To be continued...

Taglist: @reality-is-often-disappointing, @kingtamakimurder

#levi aot #shingeki no kyoujin levi #levi x reader #levi attack on titan #levi x fem!reader #levi×reader #levi ackerman #captain levi

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